The pan holding Lord Edmund dropped. The air whooshed out of me. A few healers cheered.
The Frost Maiden shook her head. “This is as we expected. No one, other than perhaps the king, believed the murder charge justified. There are, however, lesser charges we must consider.” She asked a few more questions, the scales bobbed up and down, and then she said, “The Water Office has determined Master Duncan was justified in acting to protect both his sister and himself. Nevertheless, he did cause Lord Edmund’s death, and even the accidental death of a noble is a serious matter. We must now perform the penalty phase.”
The Water Guild Council gathered around her. When they all had a hand on her shoulders, she said, “Ready? Begin.” The stone in her ring, now on her left hand, throbbed with blue light, no faster at first than the hoofbeats of an old nag at pasture. The witches and wizards looked like ghouls in the flickering light. No one spoke, no one moved. For a long time, nothing else happened, except the throbbing quickened to a trot, then a gallop. Then the beats ran together, and the stone in the ring flashed bright blue, brighter than the sunlight coming in the windows.
With a roar like surf beating on rocks, the sea in the mosaic came alive. Cold water poured out, spread across the floor, and rose to hip-high in seconds. I scrambled to my feet and reached for Maggie. A chest-high wave hit me, and I went under.
The Frost Maiden’s voice cut through the roar of rising water and froze me in place. “Be still. You will not drown, nor be swept away. Let the flood pass over you.”
My bones ached with cold. Then the water drained away, more quickly than it had risen. My teeth chattered. The Fire Warlock sat down, hunched over, and shook so hard his chair rattled. The fire wizards crowded together. Mother Astrid’s freckles stood out against white cheeks. The Air Enchanter floated down from the ceiling. Even up there, somehow, he’d gotten soaked.
Master Jean and the Locksmith were the only ones outside the Water Guild who hadn’t panicked. She hadn’t even moved. She looked pissed off, not scared. Weren’t members of the Fire Guild all supposed to be terrified of drowning?
Master Jean hissed under his breath, “For God’s sake, Lorraine, there are warlocks here.”
The Air Enchanter mumbled, “The rest of us didn’t like it either, you know. What was that?”
Master Jean’s eyebrows rose. “A flood?”
The Enchanter glared at him. “I meant—”
“I beg your pardon. I do not know. They do not seem to know what to make of it, either,” he said, nodding at the coven around the Frost Maiden. They waved their hands and argued with each other, but I couldn’t make out the words. The Frost Maiden sat with her eyes closed, looking even more like a statue, while they chattered around her.
“It was a magic flood, anyway,” I said. “There’s no mud.” There were no drowned mice, either, or scattered leaves, or any of the other usual mess a flood leaves. The walls and floor gleamed like they’d just been scoured.
“A good omen, perhaps,” Master Jean said.
Somebody or something was working magic on us. The water trickled out of my hair and clothes, faster than it should have. My shoes were still awash, but my shoulders were already dry. Master Jean tapped me on the arm, and made me warm for the first time since walking into the Crystal Palace. Soon, even my shoes were dry, and the last of the water disappeared. The water coven stopped arguing, and went back to the bench under the mirror.
The Frost Maiden said, “We have witnessed an event the Great Coven expected would happen frequently, but that has never happened since the Water Office was created. We have been privileged today to see the Water Office correcting itself, washing away the detritus of centuries of bad precedents and unjust decisions. This is as we had hoped. It remains to be seen, however, if the new judgements are more just than the old. The death of a noble is still a serious matter. Penalties must be paid.” She laid her hand on the hourglass.
My heart stopped. One hour to say goodbye. To make my peace—
“But today,” she said, “we have no need of the hourglass.”
Maggie squealed. I can’t recall quite what happened after that. Sparks filled the air. Grinning wizards pumped my hand. Mother Astrid kissed me—I’m sure about that. Healers I’d never met hugged me.
Maggie tugged my sleeve. The pinched look on her face brought me back to earth. I couldn’t hear what she said for the noise, but I followed her eyes. She was watching Master Jean. He wasn’t celebrating with the other fire wizards. He seemed carved from the same marble as the Frost Maiden. He watched her. She watched me. Our eyes met. Ever so slightly, she shook her head.
My skin crawled. I slid down onto the bench beside Master Jean. The gong sounded, and sounded again before the healers stopped chattering and returned to their seats.
The Frost Maiden said, “I understand your desire to celebrate. We are no longer bound by the barbarism of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, where the eye and the tooth matter only if they belong to a nobleman. Nevertheless, the Water Office is still constrained, more tightly than we had understood, by the privileges of rank afforded the nobility by the other Offices, in particular the Fire Office.”
Master Jean made a noise like she’d hit him. She said, “Yes, Jean?”
He gripped the edge of the bench with white knuckles. “I beg your pardon, Your Wisdom. Please, continue.”
“The death of a dishonourable noble still matters more to the Offices than the death of an honourable commoner, and the penalties for killing a noble are not light.”
The hall went dead quiet. I shivered.
“Master Duncan, I will not call you, today, to step forth and hear your fate. The judgements will not take effect until I do so at the meeting tomorrow in Paris, but I will tell you today what is in store for you.
“There are three aspects to all Water Guild judgments: deterrence, recompense, and retribution. That is, preventing the crime from happening again, making things right, as far as is possible, for the wronged parties, and, if need be, further punishments as befits the gravity of the situation.
“First is the matter of deterrence. The Water Office will not take away from you the ability to kill another person. It cannot do so without also depriving you of your livelihood, and your right to defend yourself. However, I warn you, if ever you strike the first blow, you shall suffer the same injury you deal to your opponent. If you kill again, you shall die at your own hand.”
I flexed my hand. Men had lost arms for lesser crimes, and starting a fight was nearly always a bad idea. I wouldn’t mind getting a shove away. “That’s fair, Your Wisdom.”
“Second, there is the matter of recompense. A man’s death may leave a family struggling to survive, and the Water Guild will not establish a new precedence that does not include this.”
Drown me. I should have expected blood money, but the Water Office didn’t demand money from a cold corpse. Maybe I hadn’t really believed they could fix the Water Office.
“To ensure the debt is paid promptly, you may not return to the Upper Tee Valley until the full amount is paid.”
She’d sucker punched me. Of all the bad things the Water Office could do, I’d never considered this. Could I pay it off before I died of homesickness? Oh, God, what was an earl’s son worth?
Doug hissed, “We’ll help you pay it.”
I wanted to tell Doug my nephews shouldn’t go without, but the words stuck in my throat.
“Mr Archer,” the Frost Maiden said, “your generous offer to help your brother is predicated on the assumption you have a choice. You do not. The king will require the debt be paid, if not by Master Duncan, then by the entire Archer family. Everything you, your brother, your sister, your spouses, and your children own or earn will be forfeit until the debt is paid, nor may you leave Frankland to escape the debt.”
Maggie choked. Doug’s hobnails scraped on s
tone. I couldn’t bring himself to look at them.
“The king determines a nobleman’s worth,” the Frost Maiden said. “Lord Edmund was an earl’s son. For his death, you must pay Earl Eddensford one thousand gold franks.”
One thousand. This must be her idea of a joke. I stared, waiting for a real number, and jumped when the Fire Warlock bellowed.
“One thousand. Goddamn bloody Hell. They can’t pay that. Nobody short of another earl can pay that.”
“Of course they cannot,” she said. “The Water Office does not approve—”
“I thought you were going to fix the damned thing.” The Warlock was on his feet, and putting out heat like a forge. He shook off the Earth Mother’s hand. The healers on the bench behind slid away. The Frost Maiden shielded her face with her hand and leaned back.
“Come clean,” he roared, “and call this the Hall of Injustice yourselves.”
It got colder. Mist rolled out of the fake sea and billowed around the Water Guild Council. They crowded around their mistress. Her voice knifed through fog. “Silence, fool. You—”
“Beorn, sit down and be quiet.” Master Jean’s order cracked across hers. The Fire Warlock dropped into his chair. A leg snapped. He listed, teetered, and came to rest, glaring, on the other three.
“You forget yourself, my friend,” Master Jean said. “You are not master here. I beg your pardon, Your Wisdom, for my interruption.”
Jagged flashes from the stone in the Frost Maiden’s ring turned the angry water witches and wizards into fogbound ghosts. With a snap of her wrist, she sent them back to their seats. With her hand still raised, she scowled at the Fire Warlock. They were both breathing hard.
The fog turned to frost. I strained not to shiver, not to let my teeth chatter. The healers huddled close to the still-burning Warlock.
The hall got colder. I turned my collar up and tucked my hands in my armpits. The Water Office hadn’t iced me, but the Fire Warlock was trying to. That was a fine state of affairs.
The Frost Maiden closed her eyes. Gradually, she stopped breathing so hard. The lines in her face faded, returning to smooth marble.
Be careful what you wish for, Dad had said, for you will surely get it. I should have known better than to wish to see some feeling in her face. Master Jean had been right, back in that ruined pea field. If she had meant to kill me, I’d be dead.
“Lorraine, dear,” the Earth Mother said. “Er, Your Wisdom. My nose hairs are crackling. Must it be so cold in here?”
“I will chill the hall no further,” the Frost Maiden said, “but I cannot return the warmth. Perhaps the Fire Guild will oblige.”
The hall warmed. The Frost Maiden opened her eyes. “You did not need to apologise, Jean. I thank you for your intervention. A test of strength today between fire and ice would be disastrous. Would you please explain? He will listen to you.”
“Certainly, Your Wisdom,” he said, without looking away from her. “The Water Office has attempted to correct a perceived injustice, and would have done so, but the magnitude of the payment demanded is not under its control. The payment required has been established by the authority of the line of kings with the Fire Office’s support, and is the amount due on the accidental death of an earl’s son at the hands of another noble. The Water Office is not to blame. Is that correct, Your Wisdom?”
“Quite so, Jean. The Water Office does not approve of the sum required. The original purpose of blood money was to ensure a family would not starve after their breadwinner’s death. It did not measure the worth of a human life, although the nobles have come to view it that way. Nor was it intended to beggar others as they struggled to pay off a debt to a wealthy family not needing their support.
“Lord Edmund Bradford left no wife, and, as far as we know, no children to support. His brother, Earl Eddensford, does not need a smith’s assistance to survive, and taking away Master Duncan’s ability to support a family of his own ill-serves the country. The Water Office does require a penalty commensurate with the offender’s ability to pay, to remind everyone involved of the seriousness of taking another person’s life, and to prevent the needs of dependents from ever being forgotten, but strictly speaking, no payment to the earl is necessary. If the Water Office were capable of emotion, I would say it is furious. It does not want to re-establish the precedence of requiring onerous payments where they are not needed.”
The Fire Warlock said, “That settles it then. We’re fucked.”
The Frost Maiden speared him with a cold blue eye. “Your language is appalling, but the sentiment is accurate.”
He ducked his head and stared at the floor. “Sorry. And I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you.”
“Apology accepted. Your reaction was understandable. You are a commoner as well as a wizard, and understand how the commoners will see it.” She turned and raked the line of water witches and wizards on the bench behind her with her eyes. “Those of you who took offence at the Fire Warlock’s derogatory term for this place must forgive him; he spoke the truth. This has become Injustice Hall.”
She rose from her bench and sailed out the door. She disappeared while we were still scrambling to our feet.
Maggie said, “Is it over?” I flinched at the tears in her voice.
The Air Enchanter said, “Yes, Miss Archer. You and your brother should go home and rest, if you can. Tomorrow will be a gruelling day.”
The members of the Water Guild slid out of Doug’s way as he marched out, Maggie on his heels. Neither one looked back.
The Road to
the Palace
The iron railing glowed red, turned yellow, then eye-blistering white. The Fire Warlock tore chunks out with his hands and with a wordless roar, hurled one after the other at the mountainside.
The younger mage, the fire lad, and I stood shoulder to shoulder, flat against the wall, glad he was throwing them at Storm King—like it would even notice—rather than at us. The fire lad chewed his nails. The Locksmith watched, frowning, from the centre of the balcony. Her husband paced tight circles with their winter coats over his arm.
When the Fire Warlock finally stopped, leaving only a few glowing support columns, bending under their own weight, the Locksmith said, “Feeling better now?”
“No. I feel like a two-year-old, and that pisses me off, too.”
“At least you’ve calmed down enough to talk.”
“Maybe.”
“You must,” Master Jean said. “We have much to do, and little room to manoeuvre. Master Sven, you and Warlock Snorri worked wonders in August disseminating the truth about the injustice of rape trials. Can you perform another miracle and reach the members of all four magic guilds before the demonstration tomorrow?”
The two wizards frowned at each other. “Most,” Master Sven said. “We can’t find them all in one day.”
“Do what you can. Concentrate on the Water Guild.”
“What’s the message?”
“All talented not needed for riot control must seek a safe place: the Fortress, the Warren, or the Crystal Palace. Not the Hall of the Winds. If they cannot reach one of those three, go to earth. Leave Paris. The Water Guild Council will supply those safe havens with magic mirrors for watching the proceedings. No commoner in any magic guild is to attend tomorrow’s audience with the king without their guild head’s approval. On the Fire Warlock’s orders… That is, of course, if you concur, Your Wisdom.”
The Fire Warlock saluted, with a weak grin. “Not used to being second in command, are you? As he says.”
“We’re on it.” The mage and the fire lad dove for the stairs.
“Mother Celeste will talk to the queen,” Master Jean said. “Lucinda and I will pay a familial visit to the Eddensfords. As soon as you are able, offer the Water Guild a thorough apology. We must be in accord at this afternoon’s trial, and tomorrow.”
I pushed away from the wall. “Aren’t you going to take the Water Office apart again?”
Master Jean frowned. “Why?”
“You promised you’d do that if it wasn’t fixed the first time.”
“It has been fixed. You are still with us.”
I leaned over him with fists on my hips and elbows out wide. “Like hell it’s been fixed. It still looks broken to me.” I tried to stare him down, and failed.
“It won’t look fixed to other commoners, either,” the Locksmith said, “but it is. The king and the Fire Office are conspiring to make it appear still broken. That’s why the Fire Warlock is so angry.”
“Reforging the Water Office without the justice magic will not help,” Master Jean said. “We cannot let the king take the judiciary out of the Water Guild’s hands and turn it over to the nobles. Aside from problems of flagrant bias in sentencing, the nobility do not have the Water Guild’s magic for ferreting out the truth of guilt or innocence, or their scruples to do so.”
I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes. “When you asked me to be the test case, I thought it was about me living or dying. Being a debt slave for the rest of my life isn’t much better than dying, and if I’d thought it could ruin Doug and Maggie’s lives, too, I wouldn’t have agreed to it, ever. I won’t say I’d be better off if she—it, I mean, the Water Office—wanted me dead, but at least it would have been quick.”
The Fire Warlock said, “God knows I’m sorry, Duncan. You would have been better off. It wouldn’t have gotten the chance to kill you.”
“Eh?”
“If it had ordered you dead, it would have given you an hour’s grace. I would have taken you to the border with Espana and thrown you out. You would’ve been on your way to New London by now.”
“You son of a bitch.”
He grabbed my fist a foot from his face. “Whoa. Remember what she—”
“You could have told me so. She scared the devil out of me. You—”
“Peace, friend.” The Fire Warlock hadn’t forced my arm down; Master Jean did. “We did not dare tell you. The magic in your favour was stronger if you believed your life at risk. The Water Office would have been wroth had it suspected you disdained its authority.”
The Blacksmith Page 26