The Book of Earth Read Online Free

neatened their lines abruptly. The elderly court herald dipped back into the hall with a relieved nod, straightened his green and black tabard, and gestured to the guardsmen. It took two strong men to swing each tall wooden door wide on growling iron hinges. Erde heard the herald cough and clear his rheumy throat, and worried for him. Fricca had told her he was in bad health. She’d also said that the baron thought it was time to replace him with a younger man more in keeping with the style of the new court.
    The herald faced the outer hall. “Gentlemen of the Cloth! To the court of Josef Heinz-Friedrich, fifteenth Baron von Alte, be welcome!” He turned toward the dais, graceful despite the years crooking his spine. “My lord baron! May I present the envoy from the Church of Rome, Brother Guillemo Gotti!”
    Trumpets shrilled from the galleries. Necks craned. At last, a release from boredom and the creeping chill! Through the august columned doorway marched a pair of white-clad, hooded men. Four even paces back, another pair. Another followed, then another. Ten, twenty, thirty tall sturdy men with dark beards deepening the concealing shadows beneath their cowls. The hall filled with their bulk and the wet-wool stench of their robes. Their every step was matched. Their uncanny alikeness made Erde dizzy,suffocated, as if there was no room within their sameness for so much as a breath. On the baron’s right, the young guard captain Rainer came to full alert, shrugged his black ceremonial armor into a less uncomfortable position on his shoulders and signaled his men to move in close and be ready. Erde decided not to try to catch his eye. Not now, while he was working so hard to appear mature and in command.
    When the first pair of robed men reached the foot of the dais, the entire entourage halted as one, as if at an unheard command, then knelt. Silence fell. The court’s attention turned toward the door, awaiting Brother Guillemo’s grand entrance. After a long moment, the old herald peered sidelong into the courtyard, then caught the baron’s attention with a head shake and a subtle shrug.
    The baron pursed his lips darkly. He studied the men kneeling before him. “Welcome to Tor Alte, gallant servants of the Church,” he said finally. “Bring you word of your master, Brother Guillemo?”
    “I do,” a deep voice intoned from among the paired ranks.
    “Step forward then, good brother, and be delivered of it.”
    “That I cannot, my lord. For I am he, and no man’s master.”
    The baron flushed and the court murmured, for as yet no individual rose to officially identify himself. The baron rearranged his robes some more and settled himself more comfortably. “Your pardon then, sir. But may I know your face, to better welcome you in person?”
    Court talk
, thought Erde. She often wondered if her father practiced it in his rooms in secret. Nobody talked like that when they were sitting around at ease with each other.
    With a rustle of sandals on stone, the entourage rose, and one of the second pair in line moved forward to stand before the dais, arms spread wide as if in supplication. “You honor me, my lord baron, with your understanding that we mean no discourtesy. I should explain that our vow of humility asks of us a ritual anonymity.”
    Erde suppressed an instinctive frown. She hated to admit to her father’s brand of paranoia, but surely Tor Alte’s chaplain would have informed the baron ahead of time ofsuch an unusual Church protocol. Besides, how could this priest speak of anonymity, when the name of Brother Guillemo Gotti was already famous in a world where news traveled fitfully if at all? She peered at him more closely. Is that what a famous man looks like, so indistinguishable from his fellows? She stole a quick glance to her right, but her father gave no indication that he noticed anything amiss.
    “The House of von Alte cherishes all dedicated servants of God. Welcome again, noble Brother. If