Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12)

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Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 11

by Christopher Nuttall


  “No,” Emily agreed. Baron Holyoake had been beheaded, after taking part in the coup against King Randor. His lands had even been renamed when Emily had been ennobled, just to make sure that no trace of their former master remained. “She won’t.”

  Jack looked at Caleb. “Tell your father to do something about that man, if he can. He’s going to drag a lot of others down with him.”

  “I will,” Caleb promised. “And I won’t mention your name.”

  “Very good,” Jack said. He laughed, again. “Maybe your father can do something. But I doubt it. That man is unstoppable.”

  He jerked as another engine whistled loudly. “I have grown to hate that sound,” he growled, lifting his bottle to his lips and taking a swig. “I’m not the only one.”

  “No,” Caleb agreed.

  Jack rose. “They say that Justice is walking the streets. But he hasn’t punished the worst sinner of all.” He turned and strode off, rather unsteadily.

  Emily watched him go, feeling cold. She’d assumed that the investors would be the only ones who lost out, if – when – the scheme collapsed, but it might be much worse. She made a mental note to visit Markus again and discuss it with him, although she wasn’t sure if he could do anything. They didn’t even know, not for sure, just how bad things really were.

  Her thoughts mocked her. And how much of this is your fault?

  It wasn’t a pleasant thought. She’d been the one to introduce railways, and banking, and even microloans. She’d seen them as nothing more than a way to galvanize small businesses and encourage innovation, but Vesperian had taken the concept and run with it. And he’d had just enough success to make further expansion seem desirable. And yet…

  I also destroyed the Accounting Guild, she reminded herself. She hadn’t regretted it at the time – everyone she’d met had distrusted and disliked the Accountants – but it had had an unexpected side effect. No one was watching as the bubble started to grow.

  She forced herself to think, yet nothing came to mind. Vesperian wouldn’t give her a look at his books – if what she suspected was true, he wouldn’t let anyone see them. Only a complete lunatic would loan someone money after discovering that costs were skyrocketing and profits were nowhere in sight. No wonder he had abandoned his attempts to convince her after she’d insisted on seeing the books.

  “Poor man,” Frieda said. Her words broke into Emily’s thoughts. “A blacksmith can normally find work anywhere.”

  “I know.” Caleb sat next to Emily, just close enough to be comfortable. She leaned against him, ignoring Frieda’s disapproving look. “But if he can’t get the raw materials, what can he do?”

  “Nothing,” Emily said.

  She shook her head. It would be easy to write Jack a letter of recommendation for Imaiqah. Her word would be more than enough to get Jack a place at Cockatrice. But he was one person, with a small family. How could she help everyone who would be affected, directly or indirectly, by Vesperian? She couldn’t find them all jobs. Even trying might set off the crash.

  If I loaned him money, she thought, the best that will happen is the crash will be put off for a few months.

  “He’s bit off far more than he can chew,” she said. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t see the line being profitable for years, perhaps decades. “And it’s going to blow up in his face.”

  She looked back at the station. More crowds gathered as another steam engine crossed the bridges and made its slow way towards the platform. A third locomotive? How many locomotives did Vesperian have? And how much were they worth? She couldn’t imagine them being that useful outside the railway, although she supposed one of them could be turned into a steamboat engine.

  Or someone could melt them down, she mused. The thought was horrific, but she could imagine someone deciding to do just that. That would solve the iron shortage, wouldn’t it?

  Caleb rose. “Frieda, we’ll see you at sunset,” he said. His tone was firm. “If we meet you by the horse statue I showed you two days ago…?”

  “Far enough from your mother’s wards to be safe.” Frieda smiled. “Be careful, all right? Lady Barb will kill me if you get Emily into trouble.”

  “I don’t think she’ll kill you,” Caleb said. He put on a pedantic tone. “I think she’d merely thrash you to within an inch of your life.”

  “That isn’t an improvement,” Frieda said, tartly.

  “You’d still be alive,” Caleb pointed out. “Sore for weeks, perhaps, but alive.”

  “I hope you two weren’t bickering all the way to the city,” Emily said, rising. Caleb and Frieda would have taken the portals, she thought, but they would still have had to cross the bridges to reach his home. It would have seemed a very long trip. “We won’t get into trouble.”

  “You attract trouble.” Frieda pointed a finger at Caleb. “See?”

  Emily snorted, then spoke before Caleb could fire back with a devastating insult of his own. “Remind me which one of you two started an in-school rebellion that nearly got the instigator sentenced to death?”

  “Well…that wouldn’t have happened without you,” Frieda countered. She looked down at the paving stones. “Emily…I’ll…I’ll try and get a tour at the station, then have a wander around the city, see what I can pick up.”

  “You’re good at that,” Emily agreed. Frieda was much better at reading people than Emily was, let alone coaxing them to talk. “See what everyone is saying.”

  “And try not to get into trouble,” Caleb added. He sounded amused. “Emily would kill me.”

  Frieda gave him a rude gesture, then hurried off towards the station. Emily watched her go as another whistle blew, echoing through the air. Another locomotive was moving into view, larger than the others she’d seen. Cylinders flexed as the engine picked up speed, heading towards the bridges. It pulled a long line of muddy-looking trucks. She couldn’t help thinking that they looked ominous.

  Caleb touched her hand. “We have a few hours,” he said, glancing at the sun to note its position. He suddenly looked hopeful. “Do you want to find a hotel room?”

  Emily hesitated, briefly. Sienna hadn’t told them not to make love, merely not to do it in her house. And it had been a long time…she cast a glamour around her, then gave him a tight hug. As long as they weren’t recognized, everything would be fine.

  She leaned forward and kissed him. “Why not?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “PRICES ARE GOING UP HERE TOO,” Caleb said, afterwards. He lay next to her, his body moist with sweat. “I had to pay twice as much as normal for three hours in a room.”

  Emily shot him a sidelong glance. “Have you done this before?”

  Caleb flushed. “No, but I had to organize hotel rooms for some of our guests last year. They got a much better deal for an entire week in a room.”

  “We’re not going to be here for a week,” Emily pointed out. “And while we’re in the room, they can’t rent it to anyone else.”

  She leaned back and looked around the tiny room. It was cramped, barely large enough for two grown adults. The bed was hard and uncomfortable, the window nothing more than a tiny lattice, and the bathroom thoroughly unpleasant. Technically the bathroom had a shower, but she had a feeling that they’d get cleaner if they stood on the roof during a rainstorm. She’d cast a number of privacy wards before she’d felt comfortable enough to start undressing. She had slept in worse places, to be fair, but she hadn’t had to pay for them.

  But it didn’t matter. It was the first time they’d been alone for months, and she intended to make the most of it.

  She snuggled closer to Caleb. “We haven’t had a chance to talk properly,” she said, allowing him to wrap an arm around her. “Are you all right? I mean, after Casper…”

  “He was my brother,” Caleb said, reflectively. “Casper…could be a terrible prat, at times. He didn’t think much of me – I think he thought I was an embarrassment. But he was still my older brother. I never thought h
e’d die.”

  His face softened, slightly. “But it was how he wanted to go,” he added. “He died a hero, and that’s how he will be remembered.”

  “I would have died without him,” Emily pointed out, mildly.

  Caleb grimaced. “I know.”

  His voice was curiously flat. But then, she knew his culture didn’t regard manly tears as appropriate. She couldn’t recall seeing any men cry on the Nameless World, not even when Grandmaster Hasdrubal had been laid to rest. General Pollack hadn’t cried when he’d heard the news, certainly not in public. His military subordinates would have thought less of him if he had. He’d chosen to celebrate his son’s heroism instead.

  I would have owed Casper my life, if he’d survived, Emily thought. Would it have balanced out, or would I have owed him a permanent debt?

  “He did well,” she said. There were truths she’d already decided not to mention. Casper’s drinking, the possibility of suicide…it would only hurt Caleb and his family if that ever came out. “That’s something to remember, isn’t it?”

  Caleb lifted himself up so he could look at her. “You don’t have any siblings, do you?”

  “No,” Emily said, flatly. It was possible, she supposed, that her long-gone father had sired other children. But she hadn’t seen him since she was a baby. If he had, she didn’t know about them. She certainly hadn’t met them. “Why?”

  “You can pick and choose your friends,” Caleb said. “Family…you don’t get to choose them.”

  He sighed. “Casper was my brother.” There was a hint of pain in his voice, combined with something Emily didn’t care to identify. “And I will miss him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said, quietly.

  “He got what he wanted,” Caleb said. His voice hardened, although she wasn’t sure it was directed at her. “We need to remember that too.”

  Emily nodded and changed the subject. “What did your mother say to you?”

  “She promised dire retribution if she caught us doing anything under her roof,” Caleb said. “I wouldn’t dare sneak into your room.”

  “Probably for the best,” Emily pointed out. “This isn’t Whitehall.”

  Caleb laughed. “Mother would make a good teacher,” he said. He sounded more like his usual self. “No one would misbehave in her class.”

  “I suppose not,” Emily said. Being taught by one’s mother, particularly in a packed classroom…it would be embarrassing. “Is she planning to teach?”

  “I hope not,” Caleb said. “But Marian is going to school soon. Mother wouldn’t have to stay in the city, after that. She could take up a job somewhere else if she wanted.”

  Emily lifted her eyebrows. “What does your mother do? Now, I mean.”

  “She does some consulting work for the City Guard, I believe,” Caleb said. He didn’t sound particularly interested. “Mother is a trained Mediator with an unblemished record. But she chose to spend the last twenty years raising us.”

  Emily nodded, slowly. Sienna had become a mother relatively young. She’d have time to go back to work for decades, or forge a whole new career, before she began her second retirement. It was fairly common among sorceresses, Emily had been told. Lady Barb was one of the very few exceptions.

  Except she’s dating Sergeant Miles, she mused. And they could have children.

  The thought cost her a pang. Lady Barb was the closest thing to a mother – a real mother – she had. And yet, it was selfish to expect her mentor to always be there. She couldn’t rely on the older woman indefinitely. Sooner or later, she’d have to sink or swim on her own.

  “You’re a long way away,” Caleb said, reaching out to touch her chin. He sounded as though he was only half-joking. “Come back to me?”

  Emily had to smile, then sobered. “Your mother told me that you were now the Heir. What did she tell you?”

  Caleb looked…pained, as if he was reluctant to talk. Emily waited, patiently. Lady Barb had told her that trying to drag answers out of men, particularly young men, only caused bad feelings. It might work, she’d warned, but it tended to weaken relationships. It was better to wait until the man was ready to talk.

  “That I’d inherit the house and much of the family fortune,” Caleb said. “But we don’t have much of a fortune, so it may not matter that much.”

  “The house would be worth a few hundred crowns,” Emily pointed out. “It’s in a good location, isn’t it?”

  “If you happen to be a sorcerer,” Caleb said. “But you’re right – I wouldn’t have any trouble finding a buyer. The house isn’t really attuned to a specific bloodline.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. “There’s a bit more to it than that.” He sounded as though he didn’t want to think about it. “If my parents die – if my mother dies, for anything magical – I’ll be in charge. I’ll have to supervise my siblings, make sure they marry well…”

  Emily tensed. “You’d choose their husbands?”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” Caleb said. His lips twitched. “Have you ever seen Karan try to hex someone?”

  “No,” Emily said.

  “She’s good.” He smiled. “I once saw her put a hex right through Casper’s wards. He was sprouting boils for days afterwards.”

  He sobered. “I wouldn’t choose her husband, but I would have to make sure she chose well. And if she picked badly…I’d have to give her the choice between giving him up, or being disowned.”

  “That’s horrible,” Emily said, quietly.

  “It’s for the family,” Caleb said. “That’s what Mother said. It’s for the family.”

  Emily shook her head in disbelief. “Would a poor choice really affect the whole family?”

  “It could,” Caleb said. “And then, there’s House Waterfall. I’d have to steer a course between their demands, which will intensify when Mother dies, and my siblings.”

  “Ouch,” Emily said.

  She shuddered. Fulvia had treated her granddaughter as a pawn in her schemes. If Caleb’s uncle was anything like her, Karan and Marian would be seen as assets on the marriage market. Coming to think of it, Caleb and Croce would be in the same place. Caleb wouldn’t find it easy to assert his family’s independence against an older, wiser and probably more powerful magician. They might be threatened with complete disownment if they didn’t fall in line.

  Which might not be so bad, she mused.

  “And there’s another problem,” Caleb said. He looked…he looked as though he didn’t want to say anything. And yet, it was clear he knew he had no choice. “I’ll be expected to marry as soon as I gain my mastery.”

  Emily froze. Caleb had been a second son when they’d begun their courtship. Sienna had made that very clear, but she hadn’t bothered to spell out the implications. Perhaps she’d assumed that Emily had known them. Casper’s marriage would probably have been arranged as soon as he completed his training…for all she knew, it had already been arranged and both sets of parents were only waiting for him to graduate before formalizing the arrangement. It wasn’t as if Casper would have felt any inclination to discuss it with her…

  A thought struck her. If there was an arranged marriage, one that had been planned before Casper’s death, would Caleb be expected to stand in Casper’s place?

  She swallowed. She didn’t want to know. But she had to ask. “Did…did Casper have a planned match?”

  Caleb looked relieved. “I don’t think so. There would have been interest, of course, but Mother wouldn’t have finalized anything until Casper gained his mastery.”

  He looked down at the rough bedding, seemingly unwilling to meet her eyes. “Would you marry me after I gain my mastery?”

  Emily hesitated. She didn’t know.

  “You wouldn’t have to stay here,” Caleb said. He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself, not Emily. “You could complete your own mastery before we have children. You’d…”

  His voice trailed off. “I don’t know…”
r />   Emily forced herself not to look away. She still didn’t know. She liked Caleb a lot. He was nothing like her stepfather, nothing like the boys at school she’d feared…nothing like Hodge or Robin. He lacked the sheer energy of Jade or Cat – or Casper, for that matter – but he was intelligent, stable and decent. She’d chosen to sleep with him, to give him her virginity…she didn’t regret it, not really.

  And yet…marriage?

  It would change her life. She would be tied down by laws and customs that weren’t hers, that probably never would be hers. And, given her position, there would be hundreds of minor conflicts. Caleb was no longer a free agent, no longer someone who could walk away from his family to marry a baroness. There would be consequences if he stayed with his family and other, different, consequences if he left. Or if they disowned him.

  “I don’t know,” she said, again.

  She felt a pang of bitter regret, mixed with frustration. They’d talked of hopes and dreams, of plans for the future…plans they’d implement, once they left school. Those plans were gone now…perhaps. Caleb might be called back at any moment to succeed his mother. And she, as his wife, would have to go with him…or people would talk. She understood, now, precisely why Sienna had chosen General Pollack for a husband. He brought no new obligations to the match.

  “You’ll have to choose soon,” Caleb said. He sounded haunted. He’d had dreams too. “I will respect your choice, but…”

  Emily gritted her teeth in anger. Yes, he would respect her choice. She knew he’d respect her choice. And yet, what was the choice? To marry him as soon as he gained his mastery, or leave him, knowing they were both poor choices? Or to watch as he was introduced to a succession of eligible beauties by his mother, who would pressure him to get married and start working on the next generation as soon as possible?

  And if I say no now, she asked herself, what then?

  “I’ll choose soon,” she said. She knew she was only putting off the moment when she would have to make a choice, but it was the only thing she could do. She needed to talk to Lady Barb or someone else who could give her proper advice, not make a decision on the spur of the moment. “And I wish…”

 

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