Saint Fire (Secret Books of Venus Series) by Tanith Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

a cloth. She looked harmless, and unimportant. And yet, thin as a pin, white as sullied snow, she drew his eyes back, and back again.
    Her own were downcast. She seemed not to know the outcry concerned her. Containment—guilt—also madness?
    “Quiet,” said one of the Eyes and Ears to the madman. “What are you saying?”
    “I say she’s a minion of Hell.”
    “Be aware of your accusation.
Who
is?”
    “That one, there.”
    “What has she done?”
    To his disgust, Cristiano detected a spice of interest in the priest’s nasal voice.
    The Soldier of God moved forward, and became the center of the scene.
    At once the deranged man attempted to kneel to him (the third one this morning) and hung from the priests’ grip, They glared, not liking to be, conceivably, usurped.
    And Luchita spoke up hurriedly.
    “Holy brothers—she’s only a beggar. She wanders about. I feed her crusts and the scrapings of the rice kettle, from charity. I gave hera cloth to cover her hair. She does no one hurt. She’s addled. And Berbo, too.”
    Berbo was kneeling, despite the priests, who unwillingly let him go, only looming over him, like black shadows cast up from his turmoil.
    “Bellatoro—warrior of God—
you’ll
listen. Let me speak.”
    “Very well.”
    Cristiano pulled his eyes away from the girl. He was almost glad to, and did not know why.
    The kneeling Berbo, no longer shouting, now apparently in control, offered his words with the skill of an actor.
    The crowd which had gathered, attended breathlessly. But Cristiano, resistant to such fantasies, set himself on guard.
    “It was the night—over a month back—when there was a fire on the Canal of the Keys. Oh, protect me, blessed brothers. A fiend comes and torments me when I speak of it. I shout and stammer and no one believes—”
    None uttered a sentence.
    Mad Berbo, if he was, glanced round, then, averting his gaze from the beggar girl, continued without a break.
    He lived over by the next canal, but came through the alleys to watch the fire. Men were drawing up buckets of water, but he saw no need to assist; as he put it, he did not wish to impede their work. Instead he went through another alley to the back of the houses, only one of which was then alight. It was the Red House of Ghaio Wood-Seller, who was said to have a hoard of money.
    The purpose of Berbo was plain to most of those who heard. He had hoped to be able to locate some outer stash of coins and make off with them.
    Reaching the back yard, where thesmoke was less, he found all neighbors had seemingly fled in fear of the fire’s spreading. Some refuse by the yard wall enabled him to climb it, and look over.
    In the yard, the timber, in stacks and bundles, shone with the red light of the fire, and sparks spun everywhere, but had not yet caught anything but a tree by the cistern.
    Berbo thought time was short for investigation, and besides it would be chancy. As he hesitated, he beheld a very frightening thing. In the upper story of the house was one narrow window, and this was filled by the fire.
    Until all at once the fire came out of the window, not in flames or sparks or smoke, but in an upright leaping shape.
    This, flying into the air, dropped straight down again to the yard, and landed there.
    Berbo, who had let out a yelp, discerned next instant that this apparition was only the figure of some hapless person, caught alight in the burning room, and jumping frenziedly forth. He expected it to roll shrieking on the ground. It did not.
    Rather, it stood up.
    At this very moment, a gust of flame shot through the house top, and rained spangles in the yard. (Sounds of alarm rose from the front of the house.)
    Just then too, Berbo was aware of a golden liquid ribbon which ran out from the window. Was this Ghaio’s gold, melting?
    Something made him forget the gold.
    The figure which had sprung down in the yard, and which he had expected by now to be dead, was still standing. Indeed, it