by Paul Kidd
“The barge?” Escalla suddenly looked a little blank. With herface falling, she gazed up at the sky with a saddened stare. “Let’s just saythat for some of us, being a lovable icon of forest fun is… unfulfilling.It’s only when you try to be different that you realize just how vicious nicepeople can really be.”
Beneath Escalla’s bottom, Cinders wagged his tail. Cinderslikes faerie.
“Thank you, Cinders.” Escalla patted the hell hound’s fur.“You’re a weird guy, and I like you too.”
The Justicar deliberately kept from meeting Escalla’s eye. Hepatted Cinders’ skull, then reached into his backpack and unwrapped a littlegift for the faerie.
“Faerie cake. I found it at a stall.” The big man drew in asigh. “And I bought you a silk scarf and some rabbit skins to turn intoclothes.”
“Thanks, man,” Escalla said. She seemed very pleased but abit embarrassed at the ranger’s sudden kindness.
Down in the water a small brown frog floated with its toes splayed and a look of lazy pleasure in its golden eyes. Around the jetty pilings, water weeds bloomed and damselflies flew. It was obviously a fine place just to be a frog. The Justicar joined Escalla in sprawling at the water’s edgeand watching the frog, the plants, and even the flies. When Escalla sat very, very still, a damselfly landed quietly on her hair. She sat straight and tried to see it from the corner of her eye, careful not to scare the pretty little thing away.
“Hey, Jus?”
“Hmmm?”
“You know a lot about the north.” Escalla carefully bit intoher faerie cake. “I mean Iuz, abyssal bats, and everything.”
“Yes.” The Justicar watched the frog floating dreamily in theshallows. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“So are you going to tell me why?”
The Justicar remained silent. He sat and stared at the frog floating in peace and quiet down below. Ripples spread as the frog made a lazy turn. All around him, a city flowed past, distant and forgotten.
“You don’t remember it much.” The Justicar had eyes only forthe river shallows. “It was a green country up there before the war. The farnorth of the river was all bandit kingdoms, but Urnst was fairly calm, a pretty place-cattle country up by the river, manor holdings all through the hills.” Hisstubbled face quirked up in a rare smile. “I went south to study inCeladon-learned the sword from the elves, then learned to fight from thedwarves. I came back north, though. It was the kind of place that seemed worth coming back to. Lost all of it in the war, of course. Lost pretty much all of everything. Just ashes… one end of it to the other. Even the corpses weregone.”
The Justicar’s hand rested upon Cinders’ fur.
“I killed a lot of Iuz’s minions then, hunted them like pigs.You lived alone, you trained alone… and then you hunted them alone. Thatwas just what you did. Then one day, they stopped coming.”
Escalla looked at Jus quietly, her face propped up by her hand and the brilliant red damselfly still preening in her hair.
“So after the war, you joined up with the law?”
“No. Too much has happened to worry about law.”
The man rested his sheathed sword across his folded legs, his long fingers tracing the stark shape of the wolf-skull pommel.
“You think more when you’re alone. You take a lookaround, and you see that the law is there only to protect power, to make things run. The common people just get ground down. When the wars were done, no one helped the little folk. They just looked at them and demanded taxes or told them they were serving the state and rounded them up like slaves. They keep rebuilding shattered kingdoms. You’ll see plenty of law, but what you won’t seeis any justice.”
Escalla looked at him and seemed to finally begin to understand.
“So for Justice, you need a Justicar?”
“Yes. You need a Justicar.”
Jus had invented himself and created a name for his new role. Monastically simple, incorruptible, and grim, he was the perfect instrument. Escalla felt the damselfly whirr away into the air then gave the man a kiss upon the ear.
“We’ll get ’em, big guy. We’ll get ’em.”
On the road up above, the sounds of morning traffic had increased. Escalla rose and dusted the faerie cake crumbs from her lap, ready to face the rest of her day.
“Well, Justicar, let’s go catch this two-toned sorcerer.”
“Call me Jus.” The big man rose to his feet and threw Cindersabout his shoulders. “Let’s go.”
They climbed the wood-boarded walkways that overhung the riverbanks. The Justicar tromped his way past boat owners and troupes of dancing girls alighting upon a pleasure barge and walked out into Trigol City’s mainmarketplace.
The wide square was lined upon three sides by buildings and lay open to the river at the south. Overshadowing each end of the marketplace stood huge, frowning temple gates, and behind the wrought iron were two temples, one decorated with symbols of water and fish and the other with images of hammers, flame, and steel. It was architecture imported from the Duchy of Tenh: gaudy, bright, and indolent. Escalla made vomiting sounds as she took a long, hard look at the decor.
The stalls in this busy place were rather strange. Half were tricked out in blue-green ribbons and the other in red and iron gray. Coded ribbons, hats, or feathers similarly marked people on the streets, and both opposing mobs eyed each other with hostility.
Now invisible and sitting upon the Justicar’s left shoulder,Escalla drew up her feet to avoid touching the crowds. Spying the Justicar’slack of ribbons, followers of both temple factions tried to block his way as he approached, but the big man simply shoved them out of his path. His silent stare froze a dozen others in place. Several glances at the ranger’s massive sworddecided it for them, and suddenly it became much easier to walk through the crowds.
Escalla frowned. “These are seriously rude people!”The faerie spat and sneezed as a passing lady swung her feathered hat into her face. “What are all these damned ribbons for?”
Jus thrust through the crowds by sheer force of ill temper.
“Worshipers from two competing temples: Geshtai andBlah-something.” The ranger strode forward through the street, pushing thehostile crowds apart. “Refugees from the Duchy of Tenh brought their cults withthem when they moved in about five years ago. Now the wars are over, and they’reboth flexing muscle and trying to get their claws into the city. It really puts the polish on the place.”
“Yeah, real homey.” Perched upon Jus’ shoulders,Escalla cracked her knuckles and wriggled her posterior in glee. “Hey, I can doan illusion spell. Do you think they’d clear the streets if it suddenly rainedpus?”
“Don’t.”
“Hey, just a suggestion. I’m trying to offer positive worksolutions here!” The faerie planted her hands on either side of the Justicar’sface and steered his view to a midpoint between the two temples. “Hey, look. Alibrary! That’s pretty smooth.”
The library spread its squat shape along the northern edge of the markets, frowning like a toad at all the noise and bustle outside its doors. Immediately intrigued, the Justicar marched inside, paid a stiff entry fee, and walked into an echoing hall that smelled of beeswax, candleflame, and dust. Shelves thirty feet tall reached up to the ceiling, each one filled with leather- or wood-bound books or with pigeonholes for countless scrolls. Scholars in dust-streaked robes rode long ladders that rolled on tracks, travelling soundlessly about the rim.
Perched happily atop his friend’s head, Cinders began to waghis tail in glee.
Paper!
“Keep a lid on it, flame boy.” Escalla swatted the hellhound’s ears. “We are rapidly running out of places to stay.”
A rampart of desks, each of them covered with maps and scrolls, surrounded a central dais. In deep conference behind the barriers were three librarians, each wearing immaculate gray robes. The two junior men were paying devoted attention to the orders of their senior, and all three men ignored their visitor. Thus freed from exchanging pleas
antries, the Justicar walked heavily over to a reference desk, fished a vast ledger up from its hiding place, and made space for the huge book by simply shoving scrolls and pamphlets off the desk onto the floor.
The ledger held confused notes upon the scrolls owned by the library. The Justicar searched for “Keraptis,” “Sorcery,” and “History” andfound that the appropriate entries had been cut from the pages. Annoyed, he slammed the book shut, making enough noise to attract the attention of one the librarians upon the dais.
The senior librarian turned. He was a tall man with an expression dominated by a superior gaze. His long hair streamed down behind a balding pate, rippling like the mane of a manticore.
He raked a cold, disgusted glance across the Justicar, then simply turned away and announced for all to hear. “This is not a public library.It is the library of the Black Newt Sorcerers’ guild. Remove yourself from thebuilding at once.”
With no time for scholars and their airs, the Justicar simply approached the man upon his dais and said, “I’m looking for a book.”
His audience could not have cared less. The three librarians carefully watched the marketplace through a window. Greatly angered, the Justicar sealed their attention by banging his sheathed sword down upon the desk. The echo boomed like drums of doom all through the library hall.
The senior librarian flicked a sign at his assistants, who glanced coldly at the Justicar and faded swiftly off into the maze of shelves. Left facing the Justicar and Cinders, the senior librarian glowered at his guests.
“Be swift. The library is closing in five minutes.”
The Justicar had no intention of leaving. Ignoring a sudden raise in volume of the market crowds, he leaned forward onto the cluttered desk.
“I want to find a book describing the life of the wizardKeraptis.”
“Keraptis!” The librarian’s huge beak of a nose liftedloftily into the air. “What would a warrior need with tales of Keraptis? Go aska storyteller or a puppeteer!”
The Justicar glowered. “You teach your children about evil?”
“It is a sad fact that time reduces even the greatest of mento mere abstractions.” The librarian drew in a long, cold breath of pride.“Keraptis was a visionary. He realized that the only true nobility is thenobility of the intellect. A true sorcerer is therefore liberated from the moral codes invented to restrict lesser men.”
The librarian clicked his fingers, and the lights within the library doused themselves one by one. Marching from between the shelves came three very large, very heavily armored men who glared at the Justicar.
The librarian indicated the door. “I have other work to do.The library is closed. You will leave now.”
High above the floor, Escalla was in her own little world.Minding her own business and fluttering about the shelves, she had been poking through the scrolls and finding interesting tidbits here and there. Sitting atop a bookshelf, she found an old lamp shield made of blown glass rolling about in the dust. The faerie blew it roughly clean and looked through the smoke-stained glass to peer at her two companions down below.
Jus had given up the argument and was preparing to leave. Cinders grinned like a mad thing above the man’s head, red eyes twinkling.Escalla lifted up the glass tube and looked through its sides at the room, childishly pleased at the way it dimmed her view of the window light.
She turned her toy upon the librarian and gazed at him, shading half of his face black with the lantern sleeve. She stared at the two-colored face, with its long, limp hair and hatchet nose, then let the glass tube sink quietly to her side.
“Oh, no.”
Escalla backed frenziedly away, trying to hide herself behind a shelf. A scroll rolled free behind her and fell onto the floor below. The librarian turned to scowl. Escalla blurred low over the floor. Jus was leaving through the door, and he almost fell as Escalla shot between his legs and out the door. The faerie swooped up to flatten herself against the library wall and saw the librarian suddenly running to the window to scowl across the square.
The librarian stared for a long, hard moment, then sniffed and turned away. He had the air of a man interrupted in the middle of business. Escalla felt her little heart racing as she tugged at Jus’ belt and dragged himout of sight of the library door.
“Jus! Jus, it’s him!” The faerie flapped like a madmoth in fright. “It’s him, two-tone, the black and white guy!”
“What?” The Justicar whirled. He stood on the library steps,staring at the door in cold calculation. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure! Hey have I ever steered you wrong?”
Jus and Cinders both swivelled their eyes sideways toward the invisible faerie, their gazes speaking volumes. Escalla waved invisible hands in annoyance. “Oh, fine! Well, you two guys just kick the door down and marchstraight in there. You can ask him yourself!”
“All right, we believe you.” The Justicar tapped his fingersthoughtfully against the pommel of his sword. “So our man is here?”
Burn! Cinders flapped his tail madly up and down.Burn! Bum!
“No… not yet, anyway.” Jus stood in grim thought,Escalla settling onto his shoulders. The big man scratched at his stubbled chin. “The two-toned man is either the top of the chain, or he’s a link to the top. Idon’t want to kill him until I know which.” He drew a long, hard breath. “We’llcome back when it’s dark and take a careful look for clues.”
“Hoopy!” Escalla leaned to look closer at the library. “Hey,do magic scrolls have significant resale value?”
“They’re not ours to take.”
Escalla sat prim and erect on Jus’ shoulders and announced,“If he’s an enemy of the public, then the public deserves a little compensationfor troubles caused.” The faerie fanned invisible wings. “Since I am a member ofthe public, I consider myself qualified as a representative.”
The argument wasn’t working this time. As Jus stalked his waydown the library steps, Escalla tried again.
“Hey, look. If this guy steals, then he’s taken money out ofpublic circulation, right? By reselling his stolen goods, I’m actually injectingall that cash back into the economy. It’s like giving it back, onlybetter because it generates trade at the same time! Granted as an unfortunate side benefit, I may be forced to outfit myself with a pure spidersilk dress and a few new hats, but think of the benefits to the lingerie trade alone!”
Escalla kept speaking as they reached the halfway point down the stairs. She stopped just in time to see a priest of Bleredd run through the markets, make a massive swing of his warhammer at a priestess of Geshtai, and smash the helpless woman to the ground.
9
The murder took place right in the middle of the square. TheGeshtai priestess fell without a sound, her blood spraying out across the market stalls as her murderer laughed and disappeared, running toward Bleredd’s templeat the far end of the square.
For a few seconds, a crowd of a thousand simply stood and stared, dumbstruck. Then Geshtai worshipers suddenly looked at Bleredd supporters and gave a wild scream. The Bleredd worshipers put a hand to their weapons, and an instant later the whole marketplace shook beneath a tidal wave of hate and rage.
Street merchants threw themselves at their neighbors while shoppers grappled one another, hammering daggers into one another’s guts. Fromeach temple, gate guards and soldiers began to run into the battle. Maces and halberds smashed into unarmored civilians, clawing bloody swathes through the crowds until both private armies met each other face to face. Priests joined the soldiers, and the blast of spells began to gouge into the rioting mob.
Behind it all, Escalla and Jus stood on the steps of the library, overlooking the churning chaos of the melee.
The Justicar shoved through a pair of brawling fishwives, cracking their heads together and letting them fall. Shoving battling merchants aside, he tried to catch sight of the murderer of the Geshtai priestess.
“Damn! Cinders, where did the killer go?”
The hell hound snif
fed, using senses born on a far-distant plane. No killer. Killer is illusion!
“Just the killer, or the victim too?”
Victim real, but not dead. Blood is illusion.
Escalla dodged a jam jar thrown by someone in the melee.
“An illusory murder? Great! Someone’s inciting a riot!”
It was more than a riot. It was a war. A thousand citizens battled in the marketplace, with temple priests and temple guards thickening the fray. Striding from both temples came their high priests with chosen warriors who had been issued weapons from the temples’ vaults. From the Geshtai templecame a long silver trident and from Bleredd’s halls, a magic hammer. Thewielders of the weapons launched themselves into the crowds. Backed by high priests and warriors, they began to wreak pure carnage as they hacked their way into the unarmored mobs.
Magic. Strong!
“I see it!” The Justicar kicked a charging ironmonger off thelibrary steps. “Escalla, the murdered priestess must still be alive! We have tofind her!”
“Gotcha! I’ll cover you.” The faerie whirred up into the air.
The Justicar surged down the library steps, heading for the center of the melee. With his sword sheathed, he strode into the brawl, wrenching men aside. Just overhead, Escalla tried to peer into the chaos to catch a glimpse of their prey.
A swarm of men decided to attack the Justicar. His response certainly wasn’t art, but it was beautiful to behold. A huge blacksmith threw apunch straight at Jus’ face, and the ranger parried with a forward-steppingmove. He stepped aside, dodging the blow, caught the blacksmith under the chin, spun him about, and slammed the man to the ground with one of his arms held in a lock.
The man’s apprentices came racing up to save their master.The Justicar took a look at the new onrush of attackers, briskly dislocated the blacksmiths shoulder, and then strode forward to meet the charge.
All three apprentices screamed for blood. The Justicar ducked a wild swing, flicked a hand to his sheath, and rammed the hilt of his sword into one man’s solar plexus. The apprentice folded, stumbling back into hiscompanions.