She frowned, looking towards the distant mountains. They’d always seemed slightly ominous, even though she’d roamed the foothills with Jade and Cat. She knew what lurked on the far side... no, what had lurked on the far side. The necromancers were gone. Now, Cat was carving out a kingdom for himself and hundreds - perhaps thousands - of people who wanted to build a new way of life. Frieda’s last letter had stated that dozens of caravans had driven past the school in the last few months, heading north. That would have been suicide only a few short months ago. And now, new trade routes were already opening. Emily had heard all kinds of stories about wonders and glories and entire lost cities within the formerly Blighted Lands. Who knew how many were true?
Silent coughed, nervously. Emily glanced at the maid, feeling a flicker of guilt. She was responsible for Silent and yet... she wasn’t comfortable being responsible for anyone. It was like having a child, yet Silent was a grown woman. She hadn’t been forthcoming about her age, or anything really, but there couldn’t be more than a year or two between them. The idea of her being effectively property was... Emily shook her head. Right now, she couldn’t do anything about it. Time was not on her side.
“This way,” she said, casting a lightening charm on the bags. She’d spent an hour packing everything she thought she’d need, although the tower was only a teleport away. “Let’s go.”
Silent hefted the bags without complaint and followed Emily as she walked towards the inn. It existed in a curious legal limbo, one of the local arrangements between Whitehall, Dragon’s Den and Alluvia that no one ever looked at too closely. The inn was neutral ground, not quite under anyone’s control. Emily suspected that would change once the rebels realized Prince Hedrick was staying at the inn. It would be easy enough to surround the building without doing anything that would attract attention from Whitehall. Gordian was hardly the type of person to stick his neck out. He’d probably ignore the issue until it went away.
She felt a flash of resentment as she stepped into the courtyard. Gordian and she had hardly been friends, but... she’d expected better of him. Why had he wanted her gone? Did he really think she posed a threat? Or had Master Lucknow rushed him into supporting his bid to have Emily arrested and tried, perhaps even executed? She was tempted to turn and march up to the school, to demand answers, but she knew it would be pointless. Gordian would hem and haw and tell her nothing, all the while measuring her back for the blade. And he’d bury it in her the moment she turned her back.
Never humiliate a small man, she reminded herself. You’ll make an enemy for life.
Up close, the inn smelt of far too many people in close proximity. The wards were stronger than she recalled, suggesting that someone had reinforced them in a hurry. Prince Hedrick wasn’t a skilled magician, unless he’d deliberately concealed much of his talent, but he probably had bodyguards with him who were. Alassa might have sent someone with him, just to ensure he stayed alive until Emily arrived. She frowned as they rounded the building and spotted the tents in the fields beyond. It looked like a refugee camp from hell.
Lady Barb stepped out of the shadows. “Emily,” she said. She was wearing charmed armor, ill-concealed under a cloak. “Welcome back.”
Emily stepped forward and embraced the older woman. “It’s good to be back,” she said. “I... it’s good to see you again.”
“And you,” Lady Barb said. She glanced at Silent. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a coach. Put the bags there, then wait for us.”
Silent glanced at Emily, who nodded. “As Your Ladyship pleases...”
“Odd girl, that one,” Lady Barb commented, as Silent hurried away. “Is she any warmer in private?”
“No.” Emily turned back to the older woman. “She’s very professional.”
“You must be losing your touch.” Lady Barb took her arm and led her into the inn. “I have a room upstairs, if you want to freshen up. Or have something to eat.”
Emily kept her thoughts to herself as they made their way through the lobby. The lobby was crammed with people, all looking as though they’d fled with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. She saw men holding swords - they weren’t peace-bonded - and women clutching their children, fearful eyes glancing from side to side. They looked upper middle class, she thought; their clothes were fine without ever quite breaking the Sumptuary Laws. A couple might even be aristocrats. They talked to each other in low voices, too quietly for her to make out the words without magic, or sat in silence as they waited for... for what? Emily doubted the inn could house them for long. Where could they go?
Dragon’s Den probably couldn’t house them either, she thought. The town was fairly large, but it didn’t have that much room for expansion. She’d heard the town council was pretty tough on vagrants. It would probably take much the same attitude to refugees, particularly ones who couldn’t pay their way. Where will they go?
“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” she said, when they had gone up the stairs to Lady Barb’s room. It was a tiny cubbyhole, with barely enough room for two adults. “I didn’t expect him to demand your presence.”
“He has a point.” Lady Barb’s lips thinned. “You probably do need a bodyguard.”
Emily nodded, stiffly. She loved the older woman, but... right now, Lady Barb had other problems. Emily would almost have preferred Cat. He would have made dumb jokes about Emily having a body he would have liked to guard, or something that would anger and amuse her at the same time, but he didn’t have someone who needed him more. And yet... she winced, inwardly. Void had created one hell of a mess for her.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “How is Sergeant Miles?”
“There are times when he’s close to normal,” Lady Barb said. “And times when he just... loses it. His moods are just unpredictable. There’s no way he can return to teaching when he might flip out and attack the students, on the assumption they’re orcs bent on murder. I had to stun him two weeks ago, just to stop him from tearing the postman to bloody chunks. It’s just...”
Emily gritted her teeth. “Do you want to go back to him? Now? We’ll tell Void you came with me and...”
“He won’t thank you for lying to him,” Lady Barb said, flatly. “And I gave my word.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, once again. “I didn’t realize...”
“You need to stop apologizing,” Lady Barb told her. “It isn’t your fault. For the moment, Miles is fairly safe. I’ve got him in Dragon’s Den, with a couple of friends keeping watch on him. I’ll just need to come back every so often.”
“You can,” Emily assured her. “You can always take him to Heart’s Eye, long-term.”
“In principle, that’s a good idea,” Lady Barb said. “In practice, no one wants a half-mad instructor. Mistress Irene will object, strongly, to his presence. So will everyone else.”
Emily looked down. “I know,” she mumbled. “But he doesn’t have to teach.”
Lady Barb shrugged. “We don’t know what we’re going to do,” she said. “Right now, we’re taking each day as it comes.”
She straightened up. “Prince Hedrick and his bodyguards have been camped in the inn for the last two days. Queen Alassa paid the innkeeper to ensure they stayed out of sight, although rumors have already started to spread. I’ve spoken to the prince and he’s agreed to accept our assurances of his safety for the duration of the talks. If the rebels are insistent he be handled over, we’ll take him straight back here and he can do what he wants from there.”
“Good,” Emily said. “Did you send a message to the rebels?”
“Yes,” Lady Barb said. “They sent messengers to Dragon’s Den and Whitehall. I caught one of them and asked him to take a message to Jorlem. So far, there’s been no reply, let alone a promise of safe conduct. No two people appear to agree on who’s in charge over there” - she pointed north - “so it’s quite possible the messenger never reached someone who could actually make a decision.”
“Or simply
never got through at all,” Emily said. Messengers - and postmen - were supposed to have complete freedom of movement, untouchable even in wartime, but the rules had been breaking down for years. The rebels - or the royalists - might impede messengers as they went about their duties. “How long should it take to get a reply?”
“I don’t know,” Lady Barb said. “Normally, the messengers would be able to change their horses every so often. Fresh horses were permanently kept in readiness along the royal roads. Now... I don’t know. It shouldn’t take longer than a day for him to gallop to the capital, but there’s no way to be sure. We might want to wait a day or two for a response before we move.”
“Which will also give more time for attitudes to harden,” Emily said. The reports of atrocities and horrors right out of the last set of wars were terrifying. She was fairly sure most of the stories were made up, but it would only take a handful of atrocities for both sides to decide the other had to be destroyed at all costs. “If we can at least get them talking...”
Lady Barb snorted. “Do you think this is anything other than a fool’s errand?”
Emily concealed her alarm behind a smile. “Void said the same thing.”
“Even a stopped timepiece is right twice a day,” Lady Barb conceded, with ill grace. “I don’t see any way this mess can be resolved, short of a bloody slaughter.”
“I have to try,” Emily said. “Have you...?”
She glanced up, sharply, as someone tapped on the door. Lady Barb stood, one hand dropping to the pommel of her sword as she opened the door and peered out. A young girl stood there, looking terrified. She couldn’t be any older than eight. The innkeeper’s daughter, Emily guessed. Common-born families couldn’t allow their kids to sit around doing nothing, not when there was work to be done. The poor girl was lucky, in some ways. Farm boys and girls went to work almost as soon as they could walk.
Lady Barb softened her voice, just a little. “Yes?”
“My Lady, Prince Hedrick requests your presence,” the girl said. Her face reddened as she looked at Emily. “He also requests your friend’s presence.”
“Does he now?” Lady Barb’s voice was calm. “Inform him we will be along in a moment or two.”
The girl turned and practically fled down the corridor. Lady Barb closed the door and sighed in irritation. “The secret is out.”
“It looks that way,” Emily agreed. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting Prince Hedrick, again, but it looked as though she had no choice. “If she knows, how many other people know?”
“I’d be surprised if it remains a secret for much longer,” Lady Barb said. She checked her weapons, then opened the door. “Come on.”
Emily nodded, making a mental note to discuss the amulet later, as she followed Lady Barb into the corridor. The air smelt faintly of something sour, despite a steady flow of air from the open windows at each end of the corridor. The doors were closed, locked and heavily warded, some warded so thoroughly that magic snapped at them as they walked past the doors without trying to get inside. Emily frowned. The inn wasn’t designed for permanent residency. Dragon’s Den was right next door. A magician could rent a room in an inn far closer to the town, if he wanted.
“Remember, you’re technically equals,” Lady Barb commented, as they stopped outside another door. “Shake hands. Don’t curtsey and don’t expect him to bow.”
Emily nodded. It would be difficult to determine which of them was truly socially superior to the other. A Prince of the Realm was ranked high, just below a monarch, but Emily had so many titles she couldn’t keep track of them. And Prince Hedrick no longer had any real power. The bodyguards he’d brought with him were all he had.
The door opened. Emily allowed Lady Barb to lead her inside. Prince Hedrick was sitting in a simple wooden chair, staring at a map. There was something crude about his features, as if he hadn’t grown into full maturity. He was actually a couple of years older than she was, if Emily recalled correctly. Perhaps his family had encouraged him not to grow up too quickly. A mature prince, one who could only inherit over his brother’s dead body, might start thinking about ways to ensure his brother didn’t live long enough to take the throne.
“Lady Emily.” Prince Hedrick rose and held out a hand. There was a hint of hostility in his tone. “My kingdom is in chaos, thanks to your... innovations.”
Emily kept her face impassive as they shook hands. The prince didn’t try to squeeze tightly, as if he wanted to crush her hand, but she had the feeling he wanted to. She’d seen enough insecure men, mostly low-ranking aristocrats, try to establish the pecking order by bone-crushing handshakes. She’d always thought it was stupid and thoroughly pointless.
“I have instructions to try to bring you and your enemies to the negotiation table,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “Are you prepared to work with me to bring about a mutually acceptable end to the chaos?”
Prince Hedrick let go of her arm and sat back in his chair. Emily shrugged inwardly and found a chair for herself, without waiting for an invite she was sure wouldn’t be forthcoming. Lady Barb leaned against the wall, her presence reassuring even though she wouldn’t intervene unless the meeting turned dangerous. The prince smiled, rather wanly, and rested his arms on his lap. Emily had the feeling he wanted to be doing something, even if it was futile. Patience didn’t come easily to the young man.
“My father and my stepmother, along with my half-sisters, remain in rebel hands,” Prince Hedrick said. “My brother wishes you to join him in his camp and...”
“I’m afraid not,” Emily said. Someone had been spreading rumors about Crown Prince Dater and herself. The rumors made it sound as though they were engaged to be married, or that she’d asked him to marry her and he’d declined. It was absurd, but... she shook her head in annoyance. He’d asked her to marry him and she’d said no. “It is important we proceed directly to the city.”
“My brother wishes to brief you personally,” Prince Hedrick said. “And he thinks...”
“I have to be neutral,” Emily said. The prince was starting to grate on her. “We’ll wait for the reply from the rebels, then head directly to the city. You can accompany me as your brother’s representative. Your bodyguards will have to remain here or make their own way to the camp.”
Prince Hedrick smiled. “Very well, Lady Emily,” he said. “I’m sure you will make an interesting traveling companion.”
Emily considered, briefly, leaving the prince behind. It wasn’t as if anyone who’d actually met the prince would blame her. She could go to the city, convince the rebels to accept her and then invite Hedrick to join her. But the White Council would not be amused. They’d see it as.... whatever they wanted to. Master Lucknow was currently licking his wounds, but he’d be back soon enough. He’d be on the watch for an excuse to try to arrest her again.
“I assume you’ve been in touch with your brother,” she said, instead. Dater had struck her as a reasonable man, during wartime, but that had been before his father had been captured and imprisoned by his own people, leaving the Crown Prince far too close to the throne. “What powers do you have to negotiate? And what sort of concessions are you prepared to make?”
“We want to return to our capital and resume our positions,” Prince Hedrick said. “The prisoners, including the remainder of the royal family, are to be released immediately. We will grant the rebels amnesty if they stand down and return to their former positions...”
“None, in other words,” Emily said. Her heart sank. She wouldn’t accept such concessions. Hell, they weren’t concessions in any real sense. “You’re asking them to surrender.”
“We are the legitimate rulers of our kingdom,” Prince Hedrick said. He tapped the map with one finger. “We will not surrender our rights to anyone, certainly not rebels and traitors and foreigners.”
“And why,” Emily asked, “do you expect them to agree?”
“We have the army,” Prince Hedrick said. “And if they don’t agre
e, we will purge the land with fire and blood.”
Emily groaned, inwardly. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter Ten
IT WAS HARD, EMILY DECIDED OVER the next hour, to get a proper read on Prince Hedrick. He was smart - she’d met aristocrats who could barely count past ten - and yet, at the same time, he was stubborn when he really shouldn’t be. It didn’t seem to occur to him that he didn’t have the force to convince the rebels to bare their throats for him, let alone place their lives in his hands. He veered between condescending nonsense that tested Emily’s patience and a mindless optimism that was almost worse. She was convinced, by the time the messenger finally returned, that the rebels would be doing King Jorlem a favor if they executed his youngest son.
“We have already granted you safe conduct,” Prince Hedrick insisted, as Emily scanned the message. “You don’t need it from them, too.”
Emily snorted. Prince Hedrick could grant her all the safe conduct he liked, but he could no more guarantee her safety than Emily could declare herself Empress of Earth. It would be easy enough to proclaim herself, just as Emperor Norton had proclaimed himself Emperor of America, yet no one would feel obliged to actually take her seriously. It was the rebels, not the royalists, who controlled much of the countryside. And even they didn’t have the power to guarantee her safety. The reports had started that banditry, a common response to famine and excessive taxes, had been on the rise for years.
“Grab your bag,” she ordered, curtly. “Just one. We’ll meet you outside.”
She smiled as she stood, brushed down her dress and headed for the door. Prince Hedrick had fled Jorlem City in a hurry. It was unlikely he’d had time to pack before running for his life. Alassa would have supplied him, Emily was sure, but she wouldn’t have given him anything more than the bare minimum. If the rebels won, and held their position against the neighboring kingdoms, Alassa would have to enter into discussions with them. They’d hold it against her if she gave the prince more than token help.
The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22) Page 10