"You ... you forced me into bed with Pelmore," Lavenci growled at Riellen.
"You raped me."
"Second-remove rape carries the death penalty, even when by a woman," I said firmly. "Pelmore did not know, so it's probably not conspiracy. I'll have to check in the law book. Meantime, please do not interrupt proceedings, Lady Lavenci."
"Thank you, Inspector," Lavenci said in a level voice. "I am profoundly relieved to learn that I had no choice in the matter, and that Revolutionaty Sister Riellen caused my body to be violated by Pelmore Haftbrace." Riellen's head jerked as if she had been given a slap to the face.
"Lady Lavenci, this is your first warning against speaking out of turn," I sighed. "One more such interruption will result in a fine of two florins. Now then, Constable Riellen, I put it to you that for three years you fed me with migraine-inducing powder whenever I was of a mood to celebrate any venture ended, and at any other time that I might pay court to some wench. Do you deny that?"
"No sir."
"Did you burn all my letters to Lady Lavenci instead of posting them?" "Yes sir."
"Cor!" exclaimed Solonor, who had hoisted open the book of poetry again.
'There's a lady gnome ridin' on this satyr's—"
"Solonor!" I shouted. "Get away from that bloody book or it goes into the river! Wallas, sit on him if he goes near it again. Now what in all hells was I up to in the transcript? Oh yes, burned all my letters."
"Constable Riellen, it takes a lot of talent to look worse than Pelmore, but you have done it," Lavenci muttered.
"Lady Lavenci, you are fined two more florins," I decreed, but she just smiled broadly.
"Sir, you have every right to hate me, it's true—" began Riellen.
"Hate you, no. Despise you, yes. You are no true revolutionary, Riellen, you have one set of standards for yourself and another for the rest of the world."
"I love you, sir!"
"What an upper-class notion," laughed Lavenci.
"Ladyship, you are fined a further two florins." I stood up. "Constable Riellen, put your hands together behind your back."
I bound Riellen's thin wrists, then returned to the bow. Before scribing up an account of proceedings from my dash-hand notes, I asked one last question.
"Ladyship, if you don't wish to testify against Constable Riellen, all references to your encounter with Pelmore will be struck from my proceedings. Do you wish to have Riellen executed for rape, and have the entire matter on public record, or will you grant her mercy and thus also preserve your honor?"
"What? Miss out on a chance to have Riellen knowing that she lives only because I granted her the mercy that the little rapist did not show me? Of course I choose mercy, Inspector, by my very soul!"
"But I was raped too—" began Pelmore.
"You are under sentence of death, Pelmore," I interjected, "and should I petition the ratifying magistrate that will become death by torture. Would you like to know what death by torture involves?"
"Mercy," muttered Pelmore sullenly.
"I am going to sum up, then recommend sentence," I announced. "In my three years as a Wayfarer, I have never, never seen such a jumble of twisted emotions, petty hatreds, deceit, lies, vindictive bitchery, pious hypocrisy, and venal agendas. Pelmore Haftbrace of Gatrov, you are still charged with murder, and provisionally sentenced to death, but appear to be guilty of nothing further. Do you have anything to say?"
"Constable Riellen is right, the establishment protects its own," muttered Pelmore.
"Is that all? Splendid. Your original sentence is to be ratified when we reach Alberin."
I let everyone think about that for a few moments while I checked a fine point of law in Laws of Greater Alberin for Field Magistrates.
"Constable Riellen Tallier, you are charged with repeated assaults on your immediate superior in the Wayfarers— namely myself."
I checked my book of laws again. Everyone remained silent.
"Knowingly causing harm to an immediate superior below the rank of marshal, fifty lashes recommended, should the superior press charges. Multiply that by the number of migraines I have experienced, but allowing for my changes in rank, and it probably exceeds five thousand lashes. That is merely a recommendation, though. I sentence you to dishonorable discharge and lifetime exile, with the option of a flogging to be decided by the ratifying magistrate in Alberin. Constable Riellen, consider yourself suspended from duty, as of this moment. Do you have anything to say for the record?"
"Sir, I shall accept whatever sentence is ratified," Riellen replied shakily.
"And if there is anything that I can do to make you forgive me, please say it."
"Forgiveness is not at issue here. Your professional integrity is. That is why you are no longer Constable Riellen. I declare these proceedings at an end." Silence greeted these words. I banged the butt of my ax on the deck. The silence continued. I could see Lavenci's eyes displaying that ominous bulge that precedes an outburst of the most hysterical variety.
"I notice that you care nothing for me being trapped by a glamour for the next seven years," said Lavenci, glaring at Riellen. "Why is this? Are members of the nobility without rights in your brave new electrocracy—where all are supposed to be equal?"
"Ladyship, I apologize now," answered Riellen without raising her eyes. "I was too ashamed to speak to you—"
"Raise the glamour."
"I don't know how to."
"What?" shrieked Lavenci.
"Er, well, the counter-glamours were all in the second volume, which was not in the market stall in Clovesser where I found Volume One. All the other times, I... I just left the girls bound to their beaus."
"All the other times?" I exclaimed
"Forgive me!" squealed Riellen, squeezing her eyes shut and cringing. "How many?" "Five, sir."
"Five? I shall want names, dates, and locations."
"I shall set it all straight, indeed I shall."
"Words, words that cost nothing and mean less," said Lavenci with a sharp sneer. "So, precisely seven years from the hour that Pelmore hangs dead, I shall again have the freedom to caress any man that I choose. Congratulations, Riellen, you held me down and you had your way with me. I did not even get to vote on my fate."
At the word vote Riellen gasped as if stabbed, and tears spilled from her eyes. I put a hand over my own eyes for a moment.
"Now then, everyone except the prisoners will return to the task of reaching Alberin without being vaporized by the Lupanians," I ordered. I heard the sound of Lavenci's boots on the deck. Suddenly there was a scuffle and a cry from Riellen, followed by splashing and bubbling. I lowered my hand from my eyes, to see Lavenci straddling Riellen and holding her head under the water with both hands. The barge rode so low in the water that this was not at all hard. I got up, walked over, and looked down at them.
"Inspector, would you be surprised to learn that I am fighting the temptation to cut Riellen's throat and push her overboard?" Lavenci asked.
"Not really."
"Supposing I were to declare myself defeated?" "Well, Riellen would be in a little more trouble than she is currently."
Riellen wriggled frantically, but Lavenci just tightened her grip on my former constable's hair. Riellen blew some bubbles.
"Tell me, Riellen, who were all those lamplight girls for?" shouted Lavenci. Riellen tried to buck Lavenci off, but the albino shifted her weight back a little and tightened the grip of her knees on Riellen's ribs.
"Maybe Riellen has somewhat more exotic amorous tendencies than we ever suspected," suggested Wallas from behind me.
"No, I think we are currently witnessing Riellen's first experience of being mounted by a woman," I replied.
We stood watching for a few moments more. Riellen was now convulsing occasionally rather than struggling.
"Er, might I point out that Riellen will soon drown?" asked Solonor.
"Ever had a migraine?" I asked.
"Ever had an allurement glamour?"
asked Lavenci.
"Ever had over a hundred migraines?" I asked.
"Ever had a constancy glamour?" asked Lavenci.
"So, Riellen dies then?" asked Wallas, although with a tinge of real concern in his tone.
"Up to Ladyship," I replied.
"Give me one good reason why I should not continue to hold her face under the water for the length of time I spent under Pelmore?" demanded Lavenci.
"Admittedly I would not do it," I said slowly. "But it's the sort of thing that Riellen might do."
Lavenci immediately wrenched Riellen's head out of the water. With a remarkably well placed kneeling kick, Lavenci
doubled Pelmore over, then heaved him onto Riellen and jammed his face against hers.
"You want my forgiveness, Riellen? Well your glamours once allured me into kissing this. Try kissing him now, if you can stand it."
"Look, er, perhaps we should leave you three alone to work out your differences," I suggested.
I cannot say whether Riellen did in fact kiss Pelmore, but after some moments she certainly vomited up a considerable amount of river water in his face. Now Lavenci heaved Pel-more upright, took a knife, sliced his tunic open, then seized him by the hair and jerked his head back.
"I am a biter when aroused," Lavenci declared. "I can provide a list of names of those who are qualified to testify as much. How many bite marks do you see on Pelmore's neck?"
Pelmore's neck was without blemish.
"For your information, Constable Riellen, bite marks last a lot longer than four and one-half days," I explained coldly.
'The allurement glamour lasts only until the very moment intimacy begins, Riellen!" shouted Lavenci for all to hear. "I can tell you that from direct experience. I got no pleasure from him, and here is your proof. I suddenly found myself lying beneath this thing, wondering what foul whim had put me there. That's what you did to me, you vile, hypocritical, little upper-middle-class bitch!"
That was actually as bad as it got. Lavenci released Pel-more, then pointedly washed her hands in the river. Finally she strode over to join us at the bow. Wallas rubbed against her leg as she sat hugging her knees.
"Here's one male who can touch you, ladyship," he suggested.
"Greatly appreciated, Wallas, but you're not my type," she replied, scratching his ears.
It was now that Riellen, her hands still bound behind her back and her hair still dripping, got to her knees, then struggled to her feet.
"Ladyship, I dedicate my life to your service," she announced softly in an oddly cold and level voice.
"I already have all the servants I need," said Lavenci. "Like you, I come from a rich family."
"Tell me what you want," insisted Riellen.
"What I want? I want the glamours lifted." "There is only one glamour upon you now, ladyship." "I meant every glamour you ever cast on any girl." Riellen swallowed. "Agreed," she said, less confidently. "What else?"
"I want you to lose your accursed and hateful virginity within the week."
"Agreed," replied Riellen, hanging her head and blushing. "To a nobleman."
"Agreed," managed Riellen, although with obvious difficulty. "What else?"
"Why should I be greedy? Inspector Danolarian, would you like Riellen's promise never to speak to you, write to you, or lay a hand upon you until the day she dies?"
"It would be a gift to treasure, ladyship."
"Then do it, Mistress Riellen," rasped Lavenci. "Not a word, not a touch, not ever again."
"Agreed," whispered Riellen.
"Mmd, she will fail," said Lavenci. "Not a single glamour will ever be lifted, she will tie her legs together at the knees until the week is out, and she will certainly trail after you, Inspector. She has no backbone. Spite, malice, and bile are all that holds her up straight."
Chapter Fourteen
THE DEATHS OF THE SORCERERS
Alberin came into view as the River Alber passed between the foothills of the Ridgeback Mountains and the Westcrag Ranges. All we could see at first was a heavy smudge of smoke on the horizon, then the palace towers became visible in the distance. By now we were only about five miles from the city walls. There were no
forests or woodlands surrounding the city, only farmlands dotted with hamlets. People on the banks waved occasionally as we drifted past, and we could see groups of peasants at work taking in the early harvests. Horses plodded along the tow paths on both sides of the river, hauling barges upstream, but, rather ominously, we were on the only barge headed downstream. What really filled me with dread was the fact that nobody seemed at all alarmed.
Alberin is on a coastal plain, where the Alber River meets the Placidian Ocean. As we were approaching on that fifth day of the Lupanian invasion, the usual haze had been augmented by the smoke from a large and serious fire. My first thought was that the Lupanian fighting towers were there already, but once I got a clear view across the farmland with my farsight, I realized that only a single building was burning. It was somewhere near the palace, but not the palace itself. At that stage the sun was setting behind us, and the city was still miles away. By the time we were approaching the walls, darkness had long descended.
It was an hour after sunset when we docked at the customs landing by Riverside Gate. I was greeted by a customs guard, and taken to the assessor at a barred window in the Bureau of Coinage and Precious Metals. In the darkness it probably seemed that we had merely arrived on a pair of long, low barges.
"Wayfarer, eh?" the assessor drawled as he scribbled on his slate. "Missed some excitement this afternoon."
"You mean that fire?" I said, waving at the column of smoke that was still outlined by the pale, green light of Miral.
"Oh aye, the Great Cedar Hall. Gotta hand it to the regent, no flies on him. Be outa bed afore first light to be ahead of the regent."
"You mean he directed the city militia to contain the fire before it spread?" I asked.
"Nah, he set the hall afire. Now, what goods d'ye carry?"
"What? Hold a moment. Why did the regent burn the hall?"
"Because it were full of sorcerers."
"You mean he had them burned alive?"
"Aye, he lured 'em out of hiding from miles around with talk of endin' the Inquisition against sorcery so that an alliance could be formed ter fight this Lupanian invasion nonsense. Soon as they were in the hall and talkin', the guards locked the doors and whooshl Lost a few of our own ministers and diplomats, mind, but the cause was noble. Alberin is now a sorcery-free city."
For a moment I reeled, both with fatigue and with the sheer stupidity of my ruler.
"But the Lupanians are real," I insisted. "They have terrible magical weapons."
"You seen 'em?" drawled the assessor with a total lack of interest.
"Yes! They took two minutes to level Gatrov and char everyone in it."
"Bollix. River pirates done it, wearin' costumes. Lupan's another moonworld. How'd they get here?"
"Come, I'll show you how," I said as I snatched the lantern from the guard. Striding away down the stone wharf, I noted with satisfaction that both the assessor and the guard were following. I held the lamp up, illuminating the vast and very, very alien bulk of the voidship.
"In one of those!" I shouted, pointing.
'm
I was not surprised that our arrival caused a sensation, but what did leave me gasping was the speed of the regent's political footwork. Having killed the three hundred most valuable people in the fight against the Lupanians and their magical might, he now arrested the only other people who knew how to fight back: us.
We managed to reach the shipyards near the mouth of the river and moor the barge and voidship before we were all arrested by Aquilin, the captain of the regent's personal guard. Wallas was, of course, overlooked for one quite obvious reason, and Solonor decided to stay within my pocket. We were marched up to Palace Hill, and down into the dungeons. This was not as bad as it sounds, however. Some monarch in the distant past had
apparently decided that the chances of one day being sent down to his own dungeons were annoyingly good. Thus the walls, doors, and bars were solid, but the cells were well drained and ventilated, and neither damp nor smelly. We were all crowded into a single cell, however, where our names were taken, along with our papers, passes, seals, rings, and purses.
Taking both of Lavenci's hands and pressing them between his, Azorian continued his fabrication spell, as he called it. In the gloom of the cell, I could see just a hint of a corona around their hands, and I hoped that he could restore her hand as if it had never been smashed. Taking out my writing kit, I noted in my private journal that Lavenci could stand the touch of a male Lupanian, a male human cat, a male grass gnome, her constancy-glamour partner, and of course other women. I also speculated that Azorian might be using the same magical fabrication technique on Lavenci as was used to build the fighting towers. Had he done that with me as well? If so, what was his template?
Presendy I heard a voice from a nearby cell.
"Inspector Danolarian, is that you?"
"Commander Halland, you're here too?"
"Indeed I am, sir, with Roval. Standard reaction of any ruler. When news arrives that you don't understand, arrest the bearer."
"So you were not believed?"
"Not entirely. Not at all, really."
Halland briefed me on the version of events that the regent was having voiced and posted throughout Alberin. I resisted the temptation to fall about laughing, then spent the next few hours thinking carefully about our situation. About midnight we were paid a visit by a palace official. He introduced himself as Wallengtor, the grand liaisory of the regent to the Guild of Town Criers and Brotherhood of Public Noticeboard Scribes.
"We have checked with the Wayfarers," he began. "Kavelen Lavenci, Constable Riellen, and yourself, Inspector, do appear to have legitimate identities and papers of passage. The rest of you have no official business in the capital, and that could go badly for you. Inspector, as the most senior servant of the regent in this group, what can you tell me of them?"
"Pelmore is my prisoner, and under provisional sentence of death," I said flatly. "Azorian is a Torean refugee, and has been assisting me. I enlisted the help of the morris dancers at Mallow Landing, when I had the opportunity to capture a Lupanian voidship."
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