have already tried the love potion, thought Hildegard, and discovered that it does not work for them.
As she moved away she noticed the mage glance into the crowd and catch sight of the men. He was an expert actor. Maybe few others had noticed the slight stiffening of his gestures as he handed another phial to a customer. But straightaway he raised his hands to address his audience.
“And now, my dear friends, for something you have never witnessed before. May I request a volunteer from the audience?… Anyone?”
One and all fell silent.
“A lad capable of holding up a velvet curtain? Is there one strong enough in York or are all your men weaklings?”
A youth at the front half scrambled and was half pushed by his companions onto the stage to defend the honour of his city. He stood there, looking back at the audience with a dumb expression, like a sheep to the slaughter.
The mage’s eyes were sharp as he gazed as if randomly over the crowd, but Hildegard thought he took especial notice of Baldwin and his companions. They were unarmed as was the law within the walls. Even so.
She watched him raise his hands for silence making the silver spangles glitter in the sunlight.
“I shall now endeavour to do a most dangerous act. If it should go wrong I am a dead man.”
Baldwin narrowed his glance with contempt.
“I shall, with all the arts I have acquired in Outremer, make myself become as incorporeal as the very air itself!”
There were catcalls. The mage ignored them. He first positioned the boy centre stage with a curtain held out, then, after repositioning him several times as if the merest inch was vital, he took a small copper dish from among the paraphernalia in a bag at his feet, put a candle underneath it and set light to the wick.
The flame burned almost invisibly in the bright sunlight. All eyes were upon it. The boy who had been asked to hold up a piece of cheap purple cloth was craning to see over the top of it with as much interest as everyone else. The tension increased. No one knew what to expect. Someone gave a nervous laugh. The flame flickered but remained alight.
The mage too had fallen silent and shut his eyes. He seemed to have fallen into a trance. Suddenly there was a spurt of fire from the copper dish.
Thick black smoke funnelled into the air and spread rapidly among the crowd. People at the front started to cough. There was a scramble to get away from the stage.
When the smoke cleared the mage had gone.
Chapter Nine
The boy was still standing there with the purple curtain held in front of him, but in a moment Baldwin had clambered onto the stage and pushed him to one side.
A gasp went up from those who were not too blinded by the smoke to see. Contrary to what they expected, there was no mage hiding behind it. Baldwin yanked aside the canvas flap at the back of the stage and jumped down. He could be heard cursing as he fell among some barrels. By now his cronies were barging onto the stage as well. There were confused murmurs from the crowd.
From her position on the edge it was easy for Hildegard to slip between the booths. She came out into a passage between the back of the row and some tenements in time to see Baldwin and his men searching with baffled expressions among a miscellany of rubbish. Of the mage there was no sign. There was little space among the barrels and sacks for a man to hide himself.
Some way farther down, a cart was being unloaded by a brawny, bareheaded fellow in a woollen tunic. Hildegard heard him give a derisory laugh when one of the group asked if a man in a spangled cloak had been seen running his way. The driver of the cart, a grey-bearded old man with an old sack over his shoulders jiggled the reins of the stock pony between the shafts as if impatient to be on his way.
Baldwin went up to him. Hildegard could hear him demanding to know whether anyone had come out of one of the booths. The old fellow, like his companion, shook his head.
She saw him
As she moved away she noticed the mage glance into the crowd and catch sight of the men. He was an expert actor. Maybe few others had noticed the slight stiffening of his gestures as he handed another phial to a customer. But straightaway he raised his hands to address his audience.
“And now, my dear friends, for something you have never witnessed before. May I request a volunteer from the audience?… Anyone?”
One and all fell silent.
“A lad capable of holding up a velvet curtain? Is there one strong enough in York or are all your men weaklings?”
A youth at the front half scrambled and was half pushed by his companions onto the stage to defend the honour of his city. He stood there, looking back at the audience with a dumb expression, like a sheep to the slaughter.
The mage’s eyes were sharp as he gazed as if randomly over the crowd, but Hildegard thought he took especial notice of Baldwin and his companions. They were unarmed as was the law within the walls. Even so.
She watched him raise his hands for silence making the silver spangles glitter in the sunlight.
“I shall now endeavour to do a most dangerous act. If it should go wrong I am a dead man.”
Baldwin narrowed his glance with contempt.
“I shall, with all the arts I have acquired in Outremer, make myself become as incorporeal as the very air itself!”
There were catcalls. The mage ignored them. He first positioned the boy centre stage with a curtain held out, then, after repositioning him several times as if the merest inch was vital, he took a small copper dish from among the paraphernalia in a bag at his feet, put a candle underneath it and set light to the wick.
The flame burned almost invisibly in the bright sunlight. All eyes were upon it. The boy who had been asked to hold up a piece of cheap purple cloth was craning to see over the top of it with as much interest as everyone else. The tension increased. No one knew what to expect. Someone gave a nervous laugh. The flame flickered but remained alight.
The mage too had fallen silent and shut his eyes. He seemed to have fallen into a trance. Suddenly there was a spurt of fire from the copper dish.
Thick black smoke funnelled into the air and spread rapidly among the crowd. People at the front started to cough. There was a scramble to get away from the stage.
When the smoke cleared the mage had gone.
Chapter Nine
The boy was still standing there with the purple curtain held in front of him, but in a moment Baldwin had clambered onto the stage and pushed him to one side.
A gasp went up from those who were not too blinded by the smoke to see. Contrary to what they expected, there was no mage hiding behind it. Baldwin yanked aside the canvas flap at the back of the stage and jumped down. He could be heard cursing as he fell among some barrels. By now his cronies were barging onto the stage as well. There were confused murmurs from the crowd.
From her position on the edge it was easy for Hildegard to slip between the booths. She came out into a passage between the back of the row and some tenements in time to see Baldwin and his men searching with baffled expressions among a miscellany of rubbish. Of the mage there was no sign. There was little space among the barrels and sacks for a man to hide himself.
Some way farther down, a cart was being unloaded by a brawny, bareheaded fellow in a woollen tunic. Hildegard heard him give a derisory laugh when one of the group asked if a man in a spangled cloak had been seen running his way. The driver of the cart, a grey-bearded old man with an old sack over his shoulders jiggled the reins of the stock pony between the shafts as if impatient to be on his way.
Baldwin went up to him. Hildegard could hear him demanding to know whether anyone had come out of one of the booths. The old fellow, like his companion, shook his head.
She saw him
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