The Princess in the Tower

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The Princess in the Tower Page 5

by Christopher Nuttall

“Shout a little louder, why don’t you?” Cat’s voice was very dry. “I don’t think the people at the far end of the corridor heard you.”

  Jade scowled at him. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours,” Cat said. “But if you expect unthinking devotion, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  He tapped his chin, meaningfully. “Emily made the best of a set of bad choices,” he added, after a moment. “I don’t blame you for being angry, but I don’t blame Emily for making the choice either. And now, yes we are committed to putting Alassa on the throne. I can’t see her deciding to run off to the other side of the world, can you?”

  “No,” Jade said.

  “Quite,” Cat agreed. “Now, you’re supposed to be the reasonable one of our duo. Start being reasonable again, please. My head is already starting to ache from being too reasonable for my own good.”

  Emily had to smile. “Alassa won’t want to run.”

  “Even if she did,” Jade added, “her father won’t let her go into peaceful exile.”

  “No,” Cat agreed. He leaned forward. “Right now, we simply don’t know enough to make any long-term plans. The only thing we have to go on are a collection of rumors, half of which contradict the other half. We wait until we get into the city, then we gather intelligence and start making proper plans. Until then...we’re just a pair of sellswords who have been hired to serve the king, may the gods bless him.”

  “And me,” Emily said.

  “No one will pay any attention to you,” Cat said. “That’s what we’re counting on.”

  Just in case this is a trap for us, Emily thought. Nanette’s involvement–Nanette’s possible involvement, she reminded herself–suggested that Alassa and Imaiqah might be nothing more than bait in a trap. Randor would certainly want to get his hands on Jade, if not Emily herself. And if Nanette’s involved, she’ll want to get me too.

  She looked down at her hands. King Randor might not take the risk of executing his daughter, before or after she gave birth, but Imaiqah had no such protection. She might already be dead. Hell, executing her at once would be the safest course of action. Imaiqah wasn’t the most powerful sorceress in the world, but she was certainly one of the most capable. Given time, she might break out of captivity and set out to wreak revenge. The thought nagged at Emily’s mind. Imaiqah might already be dead.

  “I still don’t like it,” Jade said. He shot Emily a look that promised trouble, later. “But we have no choice.”

  Emily nodded. She didn’t want to kick Randor off his throne, but the king had been growing increasingly erratic–and paranoid–even before he’d arrested Alassa and Imaiqah. She’d heard reports about his inspectors harassing peasants, merchants, even noblemen...while he’d been building up his army with desperate haste. It was only a matter of time before he had a showdown with the remaining barons, even the ones who supported him. Emily knew who’d bear the brunt of any civil war and it wouldn’t be the nobility. It was the commoners who’d suffer.

  And yet, fixing the kingdom’s problems might take longer than they have, she thought. Alassa might not have enough time to deal with them before the revolution begins.

  “We’ll do whatever we have to do when the time comes.” She made a show of looking at the window. “Shall we get some sleep now?”

  “I’ll take the first watch,” Jade said. “Cat, do you want the second?”

  “Yeah,” Cat said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  Emily leaned back in her bed, pulled the blanket over her head and closed her eyes. Sleeping in her clothes felt uncomfortable, but she had a feeling she’d be a great deal less comfortable if she slept in her nightwear. The bed was uncomfortable and she was certain the blankets hadn’t been washed before the room had been rented out again. Her skin itched unpleasantly as she tried to empty her mind. But the thought of insects crawling over the sheets was one that refused to go away in a hurry.

  There are already signs of trouble, she thought, remembering the dead bodies. The peasants wouldn’t take the risk of killing taxmen and inspectors if they weren’t on the verge of revolt.

  She shuddered at the thought. Peasant revolts rarely succeeded, at least on Earth, but they tended to be savage. The peasants had generations of pent-up hatred that demanded release, while the aristocratic conventions of fair play never applied to peasants who dared to lift a hand against their betters. There would be a bloody slaughter if the peasants lost, but how could they win? Typically, peasant revolutionaries had never had a long-term plan to take power and rule the country themselves. They’d always accepted the aristocracy’s short-term concessions, never realizing that the king and his nobility were just buying time to ready the counteroffensive. And there were no alternate power structures, not on a national scale.

  Randor saw to that, when he weakened the Assembly, she reminded herself. No wonder Paren chose to revolt.

  Her mind raced. Jade was angry at her, with reason. Alassa wouldn’t be pleased either, when she found out. And Jade wouldn’t keep it from his wife, no matter what happened. She might have lost their friendship, just because she’d wanted to save her friend’s life...

  She pushed the thought out of her head and forced herself to concentrate on the future. They would need an army, if they wanted to take on the king. It wasn’t going to be easy to get one, not when Randor had a head start on everyone else. They didn’t have enough money to hire mercenaries, even if using mercenaries wouldn’t discredit their claims to be acting in the interests of the commoners. And yet, an untrained and inexperienced army would be cut to ribbons if pitted against trained and disciplined opposition. And yet...

  Someone shook her, gently. Emily jerked awake, throwing the blanket aside. It was dark, so dark that it took her several seconds for her eyes to become accustomed to the dim glow from the lantern. Cat was standing beside the bed, looking down at her. Emily hesitated, then forced herself to sit up. She was sure, logically, that she’d been asleep, but...it didn’t feel like it.

  “Wake us if you hear anything,” Cat whispered. “We’ll be up at cock-crow.”

  Emily nodded, silently grateful that he’d taken her side. She hadn’t really expected it. Jade and Cat had known each other for five years before they’d met Emily. Or had it really been that long? Jade was a year older and it was unusual for an older student to socialize with a younger one, outside class. God knew Emily had managed to put her foot in it when she’d stayed friends with Frieda.

  Men normally side with other men, she thought, as she swung her legs over the bedside and stood. It was a backhanded compliment, of sorts. I guess I should be flattered.

  She made her way over to the chair and sat down. She’d managed to sleep for at least five hours, but it didn’t feel anything like enough. She wished, savagely, for some Kava–or something else to help her stay awake. Falling asleep on watch was a capital crime, as far as the sergeants had been concerned. They wouldn’t kill the unlucky watchman, she thought, but they’d certainly make him wish he were dead.

  Cat clambered into bed and vanished under the sheets. Emily smiled, rather thinly, then forced herself to listen. Jade was breathing in and out quietly–she couldn’t hear Cat at all–but there were no other sounds in the room. Outside, she heard someone moving down the corridor just enough to be conspicuous; outside the inn, she heard owls hooting as they glided through the darkness, hunting for mice before the sun rose and they had to return to their nests. She checked her weapons, just in case she needed them, as the footsteps came closer. It was a relief when they hurried past the door and continued down the corridor without stopping.

  That rapist probably wants revenge, she told herself. He’d never forgive her for humiliating him. If she ever saw him again, she might worry...of course, if she was lucky, the next time she saw him again she would be able to use her magic freely. Perhaps a transformation into a slug would teach him a lesson. It would certainly make the air smell nicer.

  Her thoughts ran in ci
rcles, considering everything they might encounter when they reached Alexis. Would the war have started by then? Or would it already be over? Would Randor be expecting them? Or would he assume that Jade didn’t know what had happened to his wife?

  Assume the worst, she told herself. Randor knows we’re coming.

  It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it had to be faced. They’d left Whitehall a week ago. By now, it would have dawned on the wretched gossipmongers that she wasn’t going to be going back. She had an unconditional offer of an apprenticeship and she didn’t need to stick around for the exams. But one didn’t have to be as paranoid as Randor to suspect that Emily might be on her way to Zangaria. The inquest was over. Jade was almost certainly on his way back too. Randor wouldn’t expect him to take the long route home.

  She rose and walked over to the window. Cat had left it open, allowing the night air to blow through the room. Emily had to smile, recalling some of the superstitions she’d seen in the Cairngorms about leaving windows open at night. There were stories of creatures that saw open windows as invitations and came inside, creatures that did unspeakable things to their victims...her lips quirked. Their deeds might be unspeakable, but that didn’t stop everyone from knowing what they were. Or from keeping their windows securely covered at night.

  A faint glimmer of light could be seen in the distance, marking the slow shift from night to dawn. It wouldn’t be that long before the sun appeared, driving the night creatures back into the shadows. This close to a town, it was unlikely that there was anything genuinely supernatural lurking in the darkness, but she understood just how scared people were of the shadows. The really dangerous creatures only came out at night.

  And they may still come close to the town, she thought. Supernatural creatures were supposed to respect walls and closed doors, even unlocked doors, but they were also supposed to watch carefully for opportunities to enter a house without explicit permission. The stories about vampires being unable to enter without an invitation had some basis in truth. A farmer who leaves a door open might as well have invited every creature in the neighborhood to lunch.

  Emily yawned as she stood by the window, her body telling her she needed to go back to sleep. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood in order to keep from falling asleep. The boys wouldn’t respect her if she allowed herself to fall asleep while she was on watch, even if they never said a word to her about it. Sergeant Miles had taught her enough about how young men thought–particularly on campaign–to know that respect was hard to win, but very easy to lose. No matter what she was–no matter what she’d done–she could still lose it in a moment.

  She heard someone moving down below and frowned, peering into the semi-darkness. A fox? A cat? Someone going out to relieve himself? Or...someone intent on trouble. She reached for her dagger and held it gently, ready to move. If someone was coming up the wall...she’d taken a look at it, earlier. It wouldn’t be easy to climb, but it wouldn’t be impossible...

  The sound faded back into nothingness. Emily listened for a long moment, hearing nothing but the beating of her heart. She leaned forward carefully as the light slowly brightened, hoping to see something...there was nothing. She might easily have imagined it.

  She jumped, one hand reaching for the dagger, as the cockerel started to crow. Others joined in a moment later, telling the guests that it was time to get up. Emily turned as she heard Cat sitting upright, his eyes flickering from side to side. He looked grumpy, unsurprisingly. She doubted he’d had more than two or three hours of sleep on each side of his watch.

  “Time to get up,” she said, dryly. “Did you sleep well?”

  “No.” Jade sounded annoyed. “I slept very poorly.”

  He stumbled out of bed, knelt down beside the headboard and pulled the chamberpot out from under the mattress. Emily turned away as he did his business, brightening the lantern and then hunting for her shoes. Jade would want to leave as soon as they could. They probably wouldn’t be coming back after breakfast.

  “It could have been worse,” Cat said. He sounded revoltingly cheerful for someone who’d been grumpy a minute or two ago. “We could have been murdered in our beds.”

  “Yeah,” Jade said. “That could still happen, you know.”

  Chapter Five

  BREAKFAST, TO EMILY’S PLEASANT SURPRISE, WAS held in a single large dining room, where a handful of men and women mingled as they ate. One table was lined with everything from poached eggs to sliced meat, while another held bread, water, beer and Kava. She took a mug of Kava, then filled her plate with food. She knew just how long it might be before they had a chance to eat again. The food was plain and simple, but it tasted good.

  “Half the men are probably nursing hangovers,” Jade commented, as they ate. “Or they’ve left without waiting for breakfast.”

  Cat shrugged. “They’re probably used to drinking themselves silly every night. I think they’re already heading to their next destination.”

  “It probably doesn’t matter, as long as they’re not paying any attention to us,” Emily said, quietly. She looked around, checking for listening ears. “Did any of them seem a little too interested in us?”

  “No, apart from the recruiting officer,” Jade said. “And he just wants us to fight for his lord.”

  “Pity he wasn’t working for the king,” Cat commented. “It would have made our trip north a great deal easier.”

  Emily shook her head. Randor would have to be absolutely insane to allow a sizable contingent of mercenaries inside the walls. There was very little else that would guarantee turning the city’s population against him. Besides, mercenaries were expendable. They’d be sent out to crush opposition across the country, not ordered to garrison the capital city. That was a job for the king’s loyal men. Jade and Cat would find themselves further away from their destination than ever before.

  Although they’d probably never be suspected, she told herself, wryly. Who’d expect the Prince Consort to sign up with a mercenary band?

  “We’d better be on our way,” Jade said, as he cleaned his plate. “We have a long way to go before nightfall.”

  “True,” Emily agreed. Her body ached, after five days in the wagon, but there was no help for it. She would just have to endure a few days longer. They were barely crawling along, compared to the distances she’d traveled on Earth...but there was no help for that either. It would be a long time before the locals invented the car. “I think that...”

  She heard someone approaching and looked up, sharply. The girl she’d saved was walking towards them, her pale face clearly nervous. Up close, it was easier to see through the masculine disguise...although, given she already knew it was a disguise, it was possible that casual observers wouldn’t notice. The girl’s face showed no hint of stubble, but she was young enough for that not to seem strange.

  “Ah...My Lady,” the girl said. “I...”

  Emily tensed, half-forming a spell in her mind. Did the girl know who they were? Or was she simply trying to flatter her? Emily had saved her virtue, after all.

  “My mother would like to speak to the three of you,” the girl stuttered. She seemed to be having problems looking at Jade and Cat. “Please, would you come with me?”

  Emily exchanged glances with Jade. A trap? Or...or what? The girl could have told her mother anything. Did the mother want to thank them personally? Or...?

  Jade stood. “We would be honored,” he said, smoothly. “Cat?”

  “Of course,” Cat said. Emily noted that he kept one hand close to his sword as he stood. “Shall we go?”

  She let the boys take the lead as the girl led them out of the dining room and down a long wooden corridor into the lobby. A handful of guests were lining up in front of the desk, settling their accounts with the clerks; a pair of guards, carrying staffs, were standing by the doors, ready to evict anyone who quarrelled over the bill. Emily wasn’t particularly surprised to see them. Zangaria didn’t have much in the way of contract law. The o
nly contracts that were honored, outside the merchant communities, were the contracts that were enforced. No one would make a fuss if an inn’s guardsmen threw a debtor in the local stocks.

  The girl led them into a back office, bare save for a single table and a set of hard wooden chairs. Emily braced herself as she noted that there was only one way in or out of the room, although the walls wouldn’t stand up to a single blasting spell. The innkeeper–the older woman they’d seen the previous day–sat in one of the chairs, a broadsheet open in front of her. Emily felt a twinge of pride, despite her nervousness. The broadsheets wouldn’t have come into existence if she hadn’t introduced the printing press, cheap paper and a far simpler alphabet. It was a sign that she had changed an entire world.

  For better or worse, she thought. The locals seemed to practically revere the written word, if only because it had once been incredibly costly to produce a book, but it hadn’t taken long for broadsheet editors to figure out that they could write lies into their newspapers. Who knows how it will end?

  The innkeeper rose, slowly. She looked to be around sixty, too old to have a young daughter, although that was meaningless. People aged quickly in the Nameless World. The innkeeper might well be in her early forties, if not younger. She might not have grown up on a farm, unlike Frieda’s parents, but she would still have had a hard life. Even the highest-ranking aristocrats had hard lives.

  “You saved my daughter,” she said, looking directly at Emily. “I...I thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Emily said. She wondered, grimly, just what was going through the older woman’s mind. It wasn’t common for someone to risk their life to save a commoner girl from a mercenary. And Emily was very definitely a young woman. Women who could fight were rare. “It was my pleasure.”

  Jade shifted beside her. Emily wondered what he was thinking, too. He would have saved the girl–she was sure he would have saved the girl–but he would have caused much less comment. A fighting woman, on the other hand...fighting women tended to get noticed, if only because they went against the grain. They were almost always combat sorcerers. It would be the height of irony if they were discovered because Emily had risked her life to save a young girl...

 

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