The City of Ravens

by Baker, Richard

  “I didn’t lie about the Lady Milyth’s testimony! Or about the sausage vendor’s wife, or the whoremaster’s tale!”

  “Rare exceptions over the course of the last three hours,” the magistrate said. He threw a stern look at the gallery, where Lady Milyth Leorduin sat in a noble’s box with a small retinue. The noblewoman’s face was set in a look of utter serenity, as if she deemed the proceedings completely beneath her notice. “And I will look into these anomalous testimonies. But the fact remains that you are guilty of burglary on at least two accounts, conspiracy, and most seriously of all, high treason by way of your association with the Warlord’s agent in the city. Can you present any evidence or testimony to contradict these findings?”

  Jack nodded vigorously. “Yes, I can, Lord High Magistrate. I require several days of liberty—escorted by city officers, of course!—to build the case for my defense. I can contest each and every one of these very serious charges.”

  The magistrate held up his hand, on which gleamed the ring of truth. “I didn’t think so,” he said in a tired voice. “Bailiff, remove the prisoner. He is to be incarcerated in the fortress of Ill-Water for a period of one tenday, during which time I intend to open an investigation into the affair of the Game of Masks and Lady Milyth’s role therein, as well as the other charges of which the defendant was truly ignorant. Then he is to be hanged by the neck until dead unless the circumstances of the investigation warrant a stay of execution.”

  The courtroom buzzed with excitement over the verdict, including one or two strong remarks suggesting that it would be much better to put Jack to death on the spot and then investigate the other allegations. Jack looked up at the various witnesses who had spoken against him; the Kuldaths glowed with triumph, the Master Crafter Randall Morran seemed disappointed, the commoners ranged from whoops of glee to smug nods of satisfaction. The bailiff and the guards escorted Jack out of the room and back to a holding cell in another part of the castle, hooding him again.

  He found himself sitting on a hard wooden bench in a small wagon, doubtless locked and barred and enchanted against any possible escape, with a pair of guards sharing the cramped space.

  “So it’s back to Ill-Water?” Jack asked through the hood.

  “Silence,” one guard grated.

  Jack shrugged as best he could given his bonds. The wagon trundled off over the cobblestones, rattling and swaying. He listened closely for any signs of business or activity in the city; the roads from Ravendark Castle to the boat landings wound through the busiest parts of Raven’s Bluff, and he strained for the sounds of conversation and commerce from the streets beyond the wagon’s walls. He heard nothing but the creaking of the wheels.

  After a surprisingly short ride, the wagon halted. The door squeaked open, and the two guards climbed out, the wagon shifting with their weight. Someone else climbed in and sat beside him; a soft feminine hand grasped his.

  “Oh, Jack,” said Illyth in a small voice. “I just heard the verdict.”

  “Illyth? What are you doing here?”

  “I arranged a short visit before you’re to be returned to prison. I’ve been trying to see you all week, Jack, but they won’t let anyone go out to Ill-Water.” She laughed softly, a sound that almost ended in a sob. “I bribed the guards to allow me to see you before you reached the landing. Jack … is there anything I can do? There must be some way to reverse the magistrate’s judgment!”

  “I do not know,” he answered. “The only thing I can think of is to call in whatever favors you can to delay the execution for as long as possible. The magistrate said he would order an investigation into Milyth Leorduin’s involvement in the Game (she’s Lady Mantis, apparently) so you might work with the investigators to clear me of that charge, at least.”

  “Done,” said Illyth. “What of the other charges, Jack?”

  He remained silent for a long moment. “I don’t think there is much you can do, Illyth. Most of them are true. I’m pretty much what they say I am.”

  “Oh, Jack,” she whispered. “You helped Myrkyssa Jelan?”

  “I didn’t know that I was helping her at the time,” he said. “I thought it was simply another job. I’m a burglar, a thief, a scoundrel, but I am not a traitor, not wittingly, at least. And I’ve never killed anybody other than Iphegor’s mouse, and that was an accident!”

  Illyth was silent for a long time. He could hear her sobbing quietly. The door at the back of the wagon opened again, and the guards reentered.

  “Sorry, m’lady, but we cannot delay any longer. We’re expected at the landing, and questions will be asked if we’re late.”

  “A moment more,” Illyth said. She returned her attention to Jack. “Jack, there must be something we can do!” she said urgently. “You don’t deserve to be put to death for what you’ve done!”

  He leaned back against the wagon’s wooden interior, his shackles clinking together. Given the fact that he would probably not get a chance to escape, what could be done? He thought hard and fast.

  “The only thing I can think of is this: approach Marcus and Ashwillow, and let them know that I’d be willing to cooperate with them in locating Jelan and her agents. I’ve seen several of them, so I might be able to find them or testify against them, if need be. I might have some value as a means of unmasking the Warlord’s plot.”

  “It’s time to go, my lady,” the guard repeated.

  Jack felt the wagon shift again as Illyth retreated. “I know,” she said to the guard. She paused. “Jack, I’ll do what I can. Everything has been so strange lately. The Game plot, and now these shadow people are showing up all over the city … I know that the authorities want to find out what’s going on. Maybe you can help them.”

  She suddenly leaned forward and kissed his hand, then clambered out of the wagon. She murmured something to the guards, and Jack detected the unmistakable jingle of coinage changing hands. Then the guards closed the door again, and the driver flicked his reins at the horse drawing the prison wagon. They clattered off through the silent streets.

  As far as Jack could tell, the Ravenaar guards returned him to the exact same pitlike cell that he had occupied before. If it was not the same cell, it was identical to the first in every detail that mattered. Freed of the stifling hood, he enjoyed the sense of relative freedom and the ability to stand, sit, or lie down as he pleased. But the enchanted fetters on his wrists and ankles still denied him the ability to access any of his magic, and the dull booming of the surf through the fortress’s seawalls reminded him that he was interred quite securely in a place he would likely never leave alive.

  He quickly became bored with pacing the narrow floor and occupied himself for a time by considering whether he might have influenced the Lord High Magistrate’s decision through a more cogent and eloquent defense. The magistrate’s ring of truth was quite tricky; there ought to be a law requiring him to disclose the fact that he used such a device before defendants said a word to him, Jack reflected. The careful absence of fabrication in his defense would have been quite challenging. On the next occasion, he would work hard to suggest or imply falsehoods he wished to impart to the authorities through half-truths and omission. For example, he might have damaged the value of Zandria’s testimony by stating the terms of the agreement they had reached regarding the reward for recovering the Orb and simply asking the magistrate whether she would gain his cut of the treasure if he should happen to be convicted. No lies spoken, but a damning suggestion that Zandria stood to gain thousands of gold crowns by helping to ensure that he was not available to collect his share of the contract.

  In fact, if he had known that the Magistrate could discern lies, he might have simply told the truth about why he undertook the recovery of the Sarkonagael for Elana. He certainly didn’t know that she was an agent of Myrkyssa Jelan (actually, Myrkyssa Jelan herself!) at the time, and the magistrate must have accepted that as a mitigating circumstance against the crime of treason. The charges of murder and conspiracy were
brought into question by Lady Milyth’s false testimony, so all that would be left were charges of theft and burglary. “And those,” reflected Jack, “are not capital crimes. I should therefore be incarcerated in the Nevin Street Compter for some inconvenient period of time until I arranged my escape, not awaiting death in ten days in the most secure facility available to the city authorities. What a dismal prospect!”

  Jack reexamined his fetters again, hoping that there might be a way to remove them. If he could regain his magical abilities, he could remove himself from the situation in the blink of an eye. Within an hour he’d be aboard a ship bound anywhere else on the Inner Sea, Impiltur or Procampur or Westgate or Marsember or anywhere but Raven’s Bluff. Unfortunately, the manacles still defied his skill.

  “A fiendish device, unnecessarily cruel and entirely uncalled for,” he mumbled. The infernal reverberation of the ceaseless surf held no answers for him, so he closed his eyes and dozed off for a time.

  He was awakened by the approach of someone in the hallway above. Anticipating his crust of bread and flagon of water, he groped around in the darkness for his flask and stood up with a rattle of chains. But the light seemed dimmer than that carried by the guard on his rounds, and the motion above somewhat more furtive. Quietly the bolt securing the trapdoor was drawn back, and the cover to his cell opened stealthily.

  A woman’s voice whispered, “Jack Ravenwild?”

  “Yes! Yes! I am he!” Jack replied.

  “Good.” She stood up and moved away. Jack suddenly feared that, having gone to some trouble to locate him, his mysterious guest now intended to leave him exactly where she had found him, but then she whispered, “Bring a light,” to another person or persons above.

  A moment later, she returned holding a small lantern to look in on Jack. He squinted up at her, shielding his dark-adapted eyes against the light. The Lady Mayor Amber Lynn Thoden crouched at the top of the cell.

  “Hello, Jack,” she said. “We have some things to talk about.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Storm Gull glided silently past the quiet wharves of the city, lanterns lighting the way at bow and stern. The hour was late; the docks, so crowded and busy during the day, were virtually abandoned. Not a single person could be seen in the halos of streetlights glowing through the soft rain. Jack wrapped a borrowed cloak closer to his body and considered whether it might not be better to leap into the water and swim for it. Icy eel-infested waters seemed a better proposition than continuing on his current course.

  He looked around, furtively studying his captors. The Lady Mayor—no, Myrkyssa Jelan—stood at the helm of her sloop, guiding the boat confidently up the Fire River. Jelan had abandoned her pose of Lady Thoden as soon as she’d escorted Jack from the depths of Ill-Water and boarded her dark cutter. Beside her, the Shou mage Yu Wei stood stock still, engaged in some inner meditation that left his face even more expressionless and serene than usual. A half-dozen very capable-looking people rounded out the crew—Hathmar Blademark, a drow swordsman; a cold woman called Amarana, who wore the emblem of the night goddess Shar; and a short, powerful Tuigan in leather and iron, who introduced himself to Jack.

  “I am called Tenghar,” he had said. “I will kill you if the Warlord wishes it done.”

  Several others worked the boat’s sails and sounded the waters as the sloop glided upstream.

  “Kel Kelek! Take the helm!” Jelan waited while one of the other men, a tall and rangy Nar with a frightening pattern of facial tattoos, clambered back to take the ship’s wheel. She tapped Yu Wei on the shoulder and then addressed Jack. “Master Ravenwild, if you would be so kind as to join me in my cabin?”

  “I would be delighted, my dear,” the rogue replied with false joviality.

  No point in allowing her to see how nervous he was with this development. When Jelan had abducted him from prison in the guise of the Lady Mayor, he’d been anxious to leave regardless of the circumstances. Certainly, anything was better than death row. Now he suspected that the Warlord would make the cost of her generosity known to him.

  “At least she is unlikely to simply silence me in some permanent means,” he muttered. “That she could have done without removing me from my cell.”

  He followed the warrior and her sorcerous advisor down the narrow companionway and into the sloop’s rear cabin. The Shou (no, Wa, Jack reminded himself) decor was unchanged, a delicate and spare arrangement of white screens and paper lanterns with a wide dark table of gleaming wood set at knee height so that one could sit on the floor and eat or work comfortably.

  Illyth Fleetwood sat dejectedly on the floor. The girl looked up sharply as Jelan, Yu Wei, and Jack entered the room. “Oh, Jack!” she cried. “They’ve got you too!”

  “You might say that,” Jelan said with a small laugh. “Do not worry, Illyth. No harm will come to either Jack or yourself as long as Jack improves his behavior.”

  She was still dressed in the handsome dress and fillet of the Lady Mayor, but as she talked she undressed to reveal dark leather armor and steel beneath her robes. Jack recalled his brief flirtation with the Lady Mayor on the first night of the Game, amazed that he hadn’t spotted the resemblance then, but the disguise was so skillfully done, including mannerisms and posture and voice, that it seemed that Elana—Jelan—the Lady Mayor were really three different women altogether.

  “Extraordinary,” Jack breathed. “The Hawk Knights comb the city for any sign of you, yet you stand in the very center of the city and direct their search.”

  “Who could expect it?” Jelan said. “But tonight the deception ends.”

  She unbuckled her sword belt, leaned the weapon against one wall, then knelt behind the table. Jelan indicated the opposite place with a tilt of her head. Jack sat down a little awkwardly, while Yu Wei took up station somewhere behind him, standing silently by the door. Illyth moved over to sit beside Jack.

  “You are probably considering your escape already,” Jelan began without preamble. “No matter. I only require your services for the next few hours, and if you do what I need you to do, I’ll gladly let you go.”

  “I fail to understand why I am so important to you, my lady.”

  “For one thing, you agreed to hear her out, after you were warned that you should not do so unless you were prepared to accept what must follow,” Yu Wei said. “We are not forgiving of broken promises.”

  “You retrieved me from Ill-Water to make me abide by my word?” Jack asked in amazement. “I didn’t tell anyone that I had learned your identity. It was in my own best interests to keep your confidence.”

  Jelan smiled in a predatory manner. “I am not so forgetful of my obligations as you are, Jack.” She began to let down the braids in her hair, shaking the rain from her dark tresses. She kept her gaze on Jack’s eyes, refusing to allow him to look away. “Where I come from, that would be reason enough to justify the trouble I went to this evening, but, as it so happens, I do have a specific purpose in mind for you.”

  “You desire something else stolen, my lady?” Jack asked.

  “Jack, have you ever studied to be a wizard?”

  Jack leaned back, his brow furrowed. Illyth shifted uncomfortably beside him, but held her tongue. He could not see where this was going.

  “No, not really. Anyone can work magic, simply through an act of will and a little practice. All those who purport to study wizardry have been pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. None of that mummery is required!”

  Jelan looked up past Jack to Yu Wei. Jack craned his head to glance at the Warlord’s wizard; the mage simply stood impassive, but his eyes were deep and thoughtful. He tugged at his white wisp of a beard and spoke.

  “Consider this possibility, Ravenwild: for the great majority of people who seek to use magic, all that ‘mummery’ as you call it is required. But for certain special individuals—you, for instance—magic is something else entirely. Is that not every bit as likely as your assumption that there is a universal conspiracy su
bscribed to by every wizard on the face of the world?”

  “Perhaps,” Jack admitted, “but that would imply that I am something special or unique, and any theory that begins with such an assumption is usually a poor one.”

  “A wiser statement than I would have expected from you,” the Shou said. He smiled in satisfaction.

  “Jack, have you ever heard any tales of wildfire?” Jelan asked.

  “My lady, I confess that I am at a complete loss as to the goal of this interrogation,” Jack began. Jelan raised her hand, forestalling his argument, and simply waited for him to answer her question. He sighed and shrugged. “Well, of course I have. Some people say that once in a while a Ravenaar born and bred may exhibit the unusual reaction of lashing out with magic when threatened. It’s always a person who has never wielded magic in his life, and it’s said that the wildfire-wielder cannot control or summon his powers at will. It is an involuntary reaction to danger, noted no more than once or twice a year in the entire city.”

  Jack suddenly smiled and wagged his finger. “Ah, now I understand! You and your wizard here believe that my powers constitute a manifestation of wildfire! Well, I am sorry to say that you must be mistaken. I have full and voluntary control over my magic.”

  “Perhaps you are able to control your ability to an unprecedented degree,” Yu Wei said. “Where do you think wildfire comes from, boy?”

  Jack glared at him. “Who knows? Maybe it is something that only one person in a thousand anywhere can do.”

  “The phenomena has been observed only in Raven’s Bluff, Jack,” said Jelan. “Why here? Why is it that a small number of people living in this city are simply blessed with inexplicable magic? Something about Raven’s Bluff instills magic in a small number of its citizens, apparently at random. And, in your case, the magic is quite versatile and strong.”