Around three in the afternoon they brought Orva Ashmiller up. She was a sorry-looking mess in the light of day, with cage muck on her. And she was chained, which was a puzzler. She was so skinny the shackles seemed like to drop from her wrists. If not for the memory of that big knife, I almost pitied her. Then she caught sight of me.
"You bitch!" She threw herself at me. She'd caught the cage Dogs napping. Before the lackwits collected themselves, Orva fell headlong, her ankle chains tripping her. She scrabbled to her hands and knees to shriek, "You took my children from me! You turned my man agin' me, you puttock, you trollop, you trull – " She lunged and fell again. Now I knew why they'd chained her. "I'll cut your liver out, you poxied leech! Why wouldn't you let me go! You ruined my life!"
The crowd who had come for entertainment hooted and whistled. I wanted to vanish. I didn't feel even a little sorry for Orva anymore.
"Steady," whispered Tunstall.
I looked into the air over Sir Tullus's shoulder. What a splendid omen for my very first day in the court. A drunkard who blamed me for the mess she'd gotten herself into was making a spectacle of me.
The dozy Dogs who'd let her escape ambled up to her, grabbing her arms to haul her to her feet. I just kept telling myself that with no coin and no advocate, the best she could hope for was a couple of years on a farm for striking a Dog. She'd be gone a long time, and maybe she'd get the hotblood wine out of her veins.
"Mama!"
I closed my eyes then, wishing I could trickle through the cracks in the floor. Why had the children come? I glanced back, where the crowd was. Of course her man had brought them, all three. Master Ashmiller wouldn't look at me as he carried the little lad up to the bars. What had he been thinking? Why would he want them to see their mama like this? She was still screaming, spittle flying from her lips, calling me every vile name there was, not once looking at the little ones calling for her.
The herald banged his staff on the floor without it doing any good. At last Sir Tullus ordered the cage Dogs to gag Orva and the court Dogs to take the screaming children out of the room. I finally drew a breath. Folk were yelling at the court and cage Dogs, their attention taken away from me at last. The two loobies who'd lost control of Orva in the first place silenced her.
I began to relax.
"The case of Mistress Orva Ashmiller, resident of Mulberry Way." The herald had a fine, ringing voice that bounced from the worn, smooth wood of the floor and walls. "Charges – striking Provost's Guardswoman Clara Goodwin while Guardswoman Goodwin acted to uphold the King's law together with fellow Guard Matthias Tunstall and trainee Guard Rebakah Cooper."
Sir Tullus scowled. "Struck a Guard? Report."
Tunstall nudged me with his elbow. "Cooper."
I must have stared up at him like a snared rabbit. "None of the other trainees had to." I think I whined.
"Cooper, he hates Dogs that waste time," Goodwin said. "Report. The Dog that was there for the whole thing does the report. That would be you."
Ersken actually tried to push me to my feet. "You can do it, Beka!"
Some nightmares do not end. I peered at the Magistrate through my bangs and dug my feet in against Ersken's push. To my scrambling brain Sir Tullus seemed very like the smoked boar face the butchers hang before their shops to advertise. His face was that beet-like red, his jowls dark with beard-shadow. I believe he had but one very long eyebrow.
His mouth gave the oddest of twitches. By then I was in a complete, blind panic. I couldn't speak before all these people. I didn't care if most were behind the onlookers' bars!
"This day comes to all trainee Guards, Rebakah Cooper," Sir Tullus said. "Your day has only come earlier than most. Speak up. The sooner you begin the telling, the sooner you may go."
"We were walking the rounds when we heard the sound of violence," Tunstall said quietly. It was one of the beginnings we committed to memory in training. Now Goodwin had a grip on my other arm, far more painful than Ersken's.
"Stand up or I'll poke your wound," she muttered. "Do not embarrass Tunstall and me in front of the Magistrate."
I stumbled to my feet with that, but my knees wobbled. "I – We were w-walking the – the rounds when we, um, we heard violence. Milord."
"Look up, Guardswoman, and speak up." For a man supposed to be peppery, he sounded almost kind. "Just tell it. What happened?"
How could I say I could not speak before this whole hooting chamber? I stumbled and stammered and got no more along than explaining the mess Orva's man was when Sir Tullus took pity on me. "Enough. Tunstall, continue."
I dropped onto the bench and put my face in my hands, feeling the heat of my shame against my palms. Why must I be unable to speak before strangers? It is my biggest fault as a Dog, and I must find a way to fix it, but how? They were all laughing at me. Who could blame them? From fish guts to drooling cracknob, I'd had a glorious week.
Nor was it done. I heard Tunstall say, "Orva escaped through the open window." He stopped then and cleared his throat.
"She knew there were stairs without? Go on," Sir Tullus urged Tunstall. "I assume you captured her outside."
"No, Sir Knight," Tunstall replied. He cleared his throat again. I saw where this was headed. My tripes clenched. For a moment I thought I might throw up.
"But you have said that Goodwin was unable to give chase," Sir Tullus reminded Tunstall.
"I did, Sir Knight." Tunstall started to rub his beard, as he often did when he wasn't sure what to say.
"Ah." To my sorrow, Sir Tullus was a quick-witted man. "Stand up and try again, Cooper."
I actually heard a moan from the onlookers.
I stood.
I was dizzily trying to remember my own name when someone walked between my trembling legs.
Pounce.
He curled up on the toes of my boots. I could feel his purr rumble through the leather.
"Sir Knight, I went after her," I told the floor.
"Louder," Ersken whispered.
"Sir Knight, I went after her," I repeated, as loud as I could manage. "She would not halt when I bade her to, so I gave chase. I caught her."
"Where, Cooper?" The Magistrate sounded very patient.
I swallowed. "At the Sheepmire Tavern, Sir Knight."
"He won't know where that is!" Ersken whispered. So eager he was to help me that his voice was just a bit too loud. Folk heard and laughed.
Goodwin took out her baton, went back to the bars, and walked along, banging them hard. The ones hanging on to the bars had to jump away to keep from getting their fingers smacked. Of course they hit those crowding behind them. Some went down in a heap.
"Silence!" she cried in her crowd voice. "I don't know what manner of Players' jollity you thought you came here for, you scuts, but you were dead wrong! This is a court of the realm's law. Shut your gobs or I'll come back there and crack skulls!"
Goddess, how I want to be Clary Goodwin when I get to be a proper Dog, I thought with envy.
The court Dogs, them as were supposed to keep order, stirred. It had dawned on them that they ought to do some work. They moved out into the crowd, hands on their own batons. Goodwin thrust hers back into its straps and came to sit next to Tunstall and me.
"Thank you, Guardswoman Goodwin." Sir Tullus's voice was as dry as Crookshank's heart. "It is a pleasure to watch you restore quiet in my court. Continue, Guardswoman Cooper. The Sheepmire Tavern...?"
For a moment I'd forgotten my own pain. I ground my teeth and tried to remember where the curst place was. "Spindle Lane, Sir Knight," I said at last.
"I have no idea where that is," the Magistrate said.
Tunstall stood. "It's but a short walk from the North Gate, Sir Knight." He sat down, giving me a pat on the shoulder as he did so.
I tried to forgive him for handing me to Sir Tullus. I knew nearly as well as he did that it was the Dog who stayed with the Rat who did the report. It was only because I was so curst tongue-tied before folk that he'd had to spea
k at all.
Sir Tullus's eyebrow shot toward his forehead. "From Mulberry Way to the North Gate?"
My tongue felt too big for my mouth. Ersken kicked me to make me speak. "I – I – Forgive me, milord, sorry, Sir Knight, but we went by back ways and through a few..." I clenched my fists and kept on going. "There was alleys and between houses and she went through a couple of drinking dens and I caught her by going around one, Sir Knight, then I hobbled her and we got a cart ride back to the kennel and I know I wasn't s'posed to arrest her but I had her and so I told her she was arrested and then my Dogs – 'scuze me, my Guards – they done it proper when I got her to the guardhouse." My mouth kept going as I said, "I'm sorry for her children and her man, but they're cracknobs for wanting someone who breaks crockery on their faces and tries to cut them with a dreadful big knife, with apologies, Sir Knight." Then I clapped my hands over my traitor mouth. It was a heady thing, reporting like that, with my heart pounding and my cheeks burning like one of Crookshank's houses. I think I went a little mad for just a moment.
Someone poked me from behind. It was Verene. She gave me a flask. I sniffed, but it was just warm raspberry twilsey, naught that would make me giddy. The tartness washed the dry coat from my mouth and made it tingle. I reminded myself to do something nice for Verene one day soon.
I looked at Sir Tullus through my bangs. His mouth was twitching, more this time than it had before. Then it steadied out. He scratched his head. "Better, Guardswoman?"
I nodded. This time it was Tunstall who kicked me. "Yes, sir, thank you, Sir Knight," I said, thinking that between Tunstall and Ersken, my legs would look like eggplants in the morning.
"Perhaps you would be so good as to explain why you went to such trouble, if you please," Sir Tullus said. "You show a degree of...enthusiasm that is unusual, even for a trainee Guard."
"Sir?" I asked. Now that the worst of it was done, I could meet his eyes, as long as he didn't want to be chattering until midnight.
"Why did you not let her go? You could have returned for her another day," Sir Tullus explained.
Perhaps it was Sir Tullus who'd run mad, not me. Except he seemed to be the same as when the day had started. Still, it was a crackbrained question, though I could not say as much to him.
"Sir Knight, she struck Guardswoman Goodwin," I said, wondering if I should talk slow, like a person did with the simple and the young. "With a knife. Not the sharp end, but it might've been. Orva couldn't be let get away with it, sir."
"And why not?" he asked, prodding again.
I wished I could scratch my head or sew or whittle to help myself think. Trying to explain with my hands hanging useless was like being schooled by the law masters in training or my teachers in Lord Gershom's home. Surely any Dog in this room could explain this to him better than me.
"Sir Knight, striking a Dog with a knife – it's a serious thing. A Dog is the face – we're the face of..." My thoughts scattered. I found them again. "The Dogs are the face of the law. We're so few. Nobody wants the work. So the realm says, We value Dogs. We set the price high for them as turn a blade on a Dog." I'd had about enough explaining. I looked at the floor again. "If the realm values us enough to make the law and the penalties like we have, I must value us Dogs enough to catch them as breaks the law. Mustn't I, Sir Knight?"
No one said anything, or laughed, or hooted. I think they were trying to work out what I'd said and if it made sense. I wasn't even certain of the sense of what I'd said.
At last Sir Tullus told me, "Guardswoman Cooper, Corporal Guardswoman Goodwin is a true hero in the Provost's Guard. She has recovered large amounts of property, brought hundreds to justice, and saved countless lives. You are right. Her life and work are valuable to this court. You may be seated."
As I gratefully planted my bum on the bench, I heard Goodwin mutter, "Don't even think this makes me sweet on you, Cooper."
Hiding behind my bangs, I grinned.
"Orva Ashmiller, have you an advocate to speak for you?" asked the Magistrate.
"She does not," said the Provost's Advocate. "Her husband, Jack Ashmiller, begs the mercy of this court. He asks that his wife be granted a fine or work and imprisonment within the city. I have also gathered the complaints of Mistress Ashmiller's neighbors. They state that she has repeatedly given her husband and children bleeding injuries, bruises, and broken bones. They ask for the peace of their homes that Mistress Ashmiller receive a sentence to prison or to exile from the city of Corus." He walked up to the Magistrate and presented him with a paper.
Sir Tullus read the paper over. He looked at Orva. Did I see disgust on his face? I disliked anyone who mauled children so, but most folk thought that children grew up unruly, even wrong, without some touch of the strap or the slap. As for Jack Ashmiller, why had he not fought her when she got to breaking things on his head? Usually Lower City men gave as good as they got, or worse.
"Your neighbors should have come to this court long ago, Mistress Ashmiller," Sir Tullus said. Orva started to fight the cage Dogs' grip on her arms again. She knew she would not like what came next. Sir Tullus continued, "Orva Ashmiller, it is the judgment of this court that you go to the royal work farm in the town of Whitethorn. You will labor there for five years for disturbing your neighbors' peace, for violence to your family, and for the crime of wielding a blade against a representative of the King's peace. Should you try to escape the farm and return to Corus, you will be branded and sold into slavery."
He struck the bronze sun disk on his desk with his polished granite ball, the sign that judgment had been made. The Dogs carried Orva off to the cages to wait for transport. She had a long journey ahead.
I thought I would feel better about it. More victorious. Instead I just felt sad.
"Next case," Sir Tullus told the herald.
They'd lit the court's lamps well before all of those hobbled that week on the Evening Watch came before the Magistrate. Despite the food all the Dogs had known to bring, things like sausage rolls that they shared with the Puppies, my belly was growling like a four-footed dog by the end of it. I could hear everyone else's belly making the same complaints. Finally Sir Tullus struck the sun disk on the day's last judgment.
And thus went my first Court Day.
I think I am going to puke.
Tuesday, April 7, 246
At day's end.
I think even if I'd come home late last night, I'd have been up with the dawn, but I'd been to bed at a good hour. Today was my free day. I was going to see my family at Provost's House. I took my blue dress from my clothespress yesterday and let it air out, along with my underdress and a veil for my hair. Lord Gershom would only laugh if I wore lads' garb as I did most days, but Lady Teodorie would smile in that thin, ice on the puddles at dawn way. I would give her no extra cause to level that smile at me. The bruises that had gone purple-green on my face would be more than enough problem in that regard.
Each time I walk up Gold Street to Provost's House, I remember coming this way with Mama that first time. She rode in the cart with our few things, trying not to cough. I remember the roses bloomed on her cheeks. My lord's healer said later those were a cruel joke of the sickness. The sun struck red lights in Mama's brown curls, too, making them shine. She was so happy. "Had I prayed the Goddess, I would never have dreamed such a chance for us, Beka." She knew I was angry that my lord had tracked me home and waited until I was out to persuade Mama. "You cannot spit on the lady's gift, you mule-headed gixie! This is not only for you, but your sisters and brothers. You'll never grow old in the Cesspool – you're meant for better things!"
The servants' gate was open and Jakorn was on duty today, as he was then. There had been more black in his long hair then, which was almost all gray now. This morning he grinned, showing the gaps where he'd lost teeth over the years. "Beka. Not wearin' yer uniform?" Jakorn came from the north. When he was angry, his burr was so thick it was that hard to understand his speech at all.
"I don't want to w
ear the same thing every day," I said, and kissed his cheek.
From the glint in Jakorn's eye, he knew very well I'd worn a dress to stay on my lady's good side. "And yer face, mistress?"
I hung my head before my first teacher in fighting. "You was a street Dog once, Jakorn."
He clapped me on the shoulder. "Di'n't I tell ye, th' idea be, yer foe walks away lookin' mauled?" he asked, but it was all teasing. "Run on in t' Cook. She's been worritin' about ye leavin' yer insides in some privy from the dreadful food down in th' Lower City."
I grinned at him and passed on through the gate. The servants were already at their work, of course. They smiled and called greetings but did no more. They had their duties, and my lady expected those to come before all else. My sisters, Diona and Lorine, just about worship my lady, and I dare say no word against her before them. I feel sometimes like my lady means more to Diona than I do. My sisters are turning into proper young mots, neat in their appearance and correct in their speaking. The days when we giggled together over Pounce's kitten antics seem to fade with every month since Mama's death.
I want them to do well in life. My lady is seeing to that. She is training Diona as a lady's maid, which had been the dream of Mama's heart. She has promised to find Diona a very good place when she thinks Diona is ready, and my lady keeps her promises. Lorine, though only twelve, bids fair to be an excellent seamstress one day. Already she does much of my lady's fine sewing, which suits my lady's personal seamstress well. She's getting old, and her eyes are not what they once were. She looks on Lorine as a daughter and teaches her those tricks of good stitchery my lady does not know.
Two of the dairymaids passed me in giggles. I wished just once that I could say, "You don't snicker when the lads come home for their day off!" Plenty of servants' sons have gone to be Dogs. It was only the girls who are given the raised brow.
Beka Cooper 1 - Terrier Page 15