The Princess in the Tower (Schooled in Magic Book 15)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Jade buckled his sword into place. “Coming,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “Trouble,” Cat said. He didn’t seem to be looking at Jade either. “It’s not good news.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  EMILY DID HER BEST TO STAY between Jade and Cat as they walked down the street, unsure quite how they felt about each other. Or her, for that matter. Jade didn’t have any right to object if she and Cat started a relationship, but...but she knew he regarded her as a little sister. He’d certainly warned Cat to behave himself when they’d gone on their first date. She wanted to cringe at the thought, even though there was something reassuring about thinking she had an older brother. Jade would be expected to kill anyone who laid hands on his real sister.

  She took a long breath, tasting ash in the air. It was mid-morning, but the streets leading towards the brothel were practically deserted. Small clumps of soldiers stood on random street corners, their eyes flickering as if they expected to be attacked at any moment, while civilians scurried in and out of sight. She thought she was the only young woman within eyeshot, perhaps the only one on the city streets. No one trusted the soldiers to leave women alone any longer.

  The smell grew stronger as they approached the brothel. A nasty thought grew in her mind, slowly turning into certainty. The brothel was no longer there. They rounded the corner and saw a pile of burned-out debris, guarded by a number of heavily armed soldiers. A small collection of bodies hung from makeshift gallows, turning slowly in the morning air. Emily ran her eyes over them quickly, but recognized none. They were nothing more than random strangers.

  There was a morbid feeling in the air, she thought, as Jade led her around the edge of the burned-out shell. The other buildings had been scorched and pitted by the flames, their inhabitants probably forced to run or die in the blaze. A couple sat by the remains of their homes, staring at nothing; others were glancing at the soldiers, cold anger clearly visible on their faces. It wouldn’t be long, Emily thought, before a lone soldier took his life in his hands every time he walked outside the barracks. That would do wonders for morale.

  “They insist they killed everyone in the building,” Cat said, so quietly that Emily had to strain to hear him. “But no one seems to know for sure.”

  Emily scowled. She wasn’t really surprised that the soldiers had taken their anger out on a handful of prisoners. Someone had to pay for their crimes, even if it wasn’t the right person. She’d known it happened, intellectually. But there was a difference between knowing it happened and seeing it in person. The dead bodies were guilty of nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  She turned her gaze towards the palace as the wind shifted, blowing the unmistakable stench of burnt flesh and rotting bodies towards her. What was Randor doing, up there? Did he think that his people had done the right thing? Or was he already plotting to use them as scapegoats if the angry mood on the streets turned into a riot? The cynic in her insisted that Randor was safe, whatever happened. His castle was heavily warded...at worst, he could get into the catacombs and flee the city.

  Perhaps we could get into the catacombs too, she thought. The Tower of Alexis would be connected to the network, she was sure. And then we could try to break down their wards...

  She shook her head. Randor’s people wouldn’t have failed to secure the catacombs as extensively as possible. Even if they could find an entrance to the tunnels, it would be hard to navigate their way to the Tower and start attacking the wards. Worse, there would almost certainly be a living guard down there...

  Jade steered them northwards, heading away from the brothel. The ugly mood on the streets seemed to get worse, the further they moved. Emily half-expected to be attacked at any moment, although there was no visible threat. The bars seemed full, heaving with men even though it was the middle of the day. She doubted that was a good sign. Too many drunken men might decide there was safety in numbers and attack the soldiers.

  “Hey,” a voice called. “Stop right there!”

  Emily froze, then turned slowly. Two men were ambling towards them, wearing leathers and makeshift armor. A band around their wrists proclaimed them to be members of the city militia...she frowned, puzzled. The king hadn’t called out the militia for years, from what Jade and Imaiqah had said. It had been folded into the City Guard long ago.

  Her eyes narrowed as the men approached. One of them was tall and thin, the other short and uncomfortably fat. Their eyes, however, were identical. They were drunk on their power, she thought; they were enjoying the chance to push people around. She wondered, absently, if they were insane or merely stupid. The mood on the streets was nasty. It wouldn’t be long before the two militiamen were caught alone and murdered.

  “Your chits,” the fat man ordered. “Now!”

  Jade produced his chit and held it out, one hand moving just a little too close to his sword belt. Cat did the same, making it clear he was ready to fight. The militiamen eyed them nervously, suddenly aware that they might have stepped into something they couldn’t handle, but took the chits anyway. Emily prayed, silently, that they would stand up to scrutiny. A fight now would bring the soldiers down on their heads.

  The king probably considers these idiots expendable, she thought. If he knows they’re on the streets at all...

  The fat man jabbed a finger at her. “You’re this oaf’s sister?”

  “Yes, My Lord,” Emily said, gritting her teeth at his tone. He sounded as though he believed her guilty of all manner of crimes. “I have that fortune.”

  “Hah,” the fat man said. He made a show of reading Jade’s chit, then nodded to Cat. “And your parents are fine with you walking out with him?”

  “Our parents trust me to handle her courtship,” Jade said, before Emily could answer. “Any further questions may be directed to me.”

  “I’m sure your father will approve,” the fat man said. “What’s her price?”

  Jade stiffened. “Would you care to repeat that?”

  Emily moved her hands behind her back, ready to draw the dagger in her sleeve. Cat moved up beside Jade, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword. There was a long moment where it could have gone in either direction, then the militiamen returned their chits and walked off. Emily let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Jade and Cat could have taken the two men–she thought she could have taken the two men–but it would have risked everything.

  “Well,” Jade said. “I’ve heard that some families are supposed to sell their daughters, but really...”

  “They probably thought we were haggling over the terms,” Cat said. He kept his hand on his sword. “And we’d better get off the streets before those assholes summon help.”

  Emily said nothing as they hurried down the street and ducked into a diner for breakfast. It was crammed with people, but the waitress had no trouble finding them seats at a communal table. The prices seemed to have doubled overnight. A fish and potato dinner now cost more than she thought most people could pay.

  “That’s not a good sign,” Jade said, when she pointed it out. “We don’t want to seem too flush.”

  “That’s not the only problem,” Emily said. “What does it mean if food prices keep going up?”

  She studied the wooden table for a long moment, thinking hard. Basic economics were...well, basic, resting on the twin factors of supply and demand. If supply went down and demand went up, prices went up too; if supply went up and demand went down, prices went down too. None of the city’s merchantmen needed to study economics to grasp that simple truth. A rise in food prices meant a fall in food supply...and that meant trouble.

  Maybe it’s just a blip, she thought. There shouldn’t be any reason for the food supply to fail–it wasn’t as though someone was burning the farms or sinking fishing boats–unless someone was buying up all the food in the hopes of making a fat profit. It was possible, she supposed, but risky. A starving mob would attack the soldiers on sight if it was the o
nly way to get food. Someone saw the riot and panicked.

  She sat back in her chair as the food arrived and ate quietly, listening to the ebb and flow of the conversation around her. The other diners ignored her, allowing her to listen without being noticed. They seemed to be convinced that the soldiers were on the verge of burning the docklands to the ground, along with a number of other rumors of varying degrees of credibility. Emily suspected that none of them had any real credibility. Other rumors–concerning food prices–were closer to home. Merchants and speculators seemed to be getting most of the blame.

  We might have picked a bad cover story, she thought. Their chits insisted they came from merchant families, after all. We might wind up getting lynched.

  Jade seemed to have the same thought. As soon as they were finished, he paid the waitress and led them out of the diner. Emily kept glancing behind her, warily, as they hurried into the alleyways, half-convinced that they were being followed. She felt as though unseen eyes were watching her, even though her senses picked up nothing. If they were being watched, it wasn’t with magic.

  “Master Abrams said he’d be in,” Jade said, as they stopped outside his house. “I don’t think he’d risk leaving.”

  “We really need to come up with a plan,” Cat said, bluntly. His voice was utterly emotionless. “Perhaps we could round up enough old friends to have a serious crack at the Tower.”

  “We’d be in trouble for breaking the Compact,” Jade reminded him. “I don’t want to take the risk of getting everyone else in trouble.”

  The door opened before Cat could think of a rejoinder. Mouse stood there, looking tired and worn. Emily guessed she’d been up all night, ready to flee for her life if the riot came in their direction. Master Abrams had wards, but Emily had no idea if they’d keep out a bunch of rioters. Or if the mere existence of his wards would be enough to attract attention from the king’s sorcerers.

  “Come in,” she said. “We have someone here who wants to meet you.”

  Emily tensed, readying her magic as Mouse led them into the next room. Someone wanted to meet them? A spy? A traitor? She let out a sigh of relief as she saw Tam, sitting on the chair, sipping a mug of Kava. He rose as they entered, lifting a hand in salute. He wouldn’t have bothered to meet with them in person, she thought, if he hadn’t been interested in making a deal. It might have proved life-threatening.

  “Lord Jade,” Tam said, after a moment. “That is your title, isn’t it?”

  “Technically, it’s Prince Consort Jade,” Jade said. His voice betrayed no irritation at a title that was, as far as most noblemen were concerned, laughable. “But it is also Baron Jade too, if one wishes to be formal.”

  Tam bowed his head. “Titles mean very little to us,” he said, quietly. “I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

  Master Abrams clapped his hands. “Mouse, drinks for our guests,” he ordered, motioning for them to be seated. “This will be a long conversation.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” Tam said, as Mouse hurried to obey. “But we do have a lot to cover.”

  He took another sip from his mug. “One thing is certain, someone within my inner circle is a traitor. Those guards believed they were hunting me, a Leveller. They received a fairly precise tip-off too, but none of our sources within the army were able to tell me who tipped off the Black Daggers.”

  Emily leaned forward. “How many people knew where you were going and when?”

  “Counting me, seven,” Tam said. His hand shook. He put the mug down hastily. “And I would have trusted my life to all of them. I did trust my life to all of them. One of them is a weasel.”

  “There are ways to turn someone into an unwitting spy,” Emily said, as Mouse passed her a mug of Kava. “Someone could have been enchanted to betray you.”

  Cat nodded. “They might not even know what they’re doing,” he added. “If the right sort of spells were used, they’d think themselves loyal–they would be loyal. They’d pass truth potions and spells with ease. But they’d be secretly communicating with their masters every time the enchantment took hold.”

  Tam bit down a curse. “Is there any way to stop it?”

  “Several,” Jade said. “The easiest would be to test each of them, thoroughly. If they were willing traitors, we could make them spill the beans; if unwilling, it would be a little harder.”

  We might have to use Soul Magic, Emily thought. She shuddered, helplessly. I’m not going to be reading their minds just to check they’re not under an enchantment.

  “Right,” Tam said. “We will discuss that, later. For the moment...”

  He sucked in his breath. “I’ve discussed your proposals, as vague as they are, with some of the other cell leaders. I’m sure you can understand that, as we were bitten once, we are unwilling to commit ourselves again. If you”–he nodded to Emily–“were not involved, we would not have taken the risk of linking up with Lord Jade. We don’t know him.”

  There was a pause. “Let me be absolutely blunt,” Tam added. “We will not be fooled again. If we are to commit ourselves to you, we want ironclad guarantees, backed by magic.”

  Jade looked grim. “Ironclad guarantees of what?”

  “We want the Assembly back, with real power,” Tam said. “We want the Cockatrice Charter to apply to the entire country, without exception; we want an end to serfdom, an end to excessive taxes, universal law applicable to all...”

  “You want a lot,” Jade observed.

  “We want to be sure that neither the king nor the nobility will ever be in a position to betray us again,” Tam said. “That is our price for assisting you, Lord Jade. It makes very little difference to us who is on the throne, as long as they swear to uphold the charter.”

  He looked at Emily. “Will you support us?”

  Emily forced herself to think. “What else do you want?”

  Tam raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re thinking in the short term,” Emily said. “What about the little details? Who gets to vote? Everyone? Or merely the people who own property? What about women? Or former serfs? Who gets to vote? And what happens to the former aristocrats? And their lands?”

  Tam scowled. “We can work out the details later. But we are not going to put our lives at risk, again, without ironclad guarantees.”

  “So you said,” Cat said, without heat.

  Emily ignored him. “What do you want to happen to the former noblemen? What about their children? Or their lands? It seems to me that you have a long way to go if you want to keep the country stable.”

  “We do not trust the king,” Tam said. “But we insist on guarantees before we fight for any of his rivals.”

  “I see,” Emily said.

  She had to fight to keep her face under control. Tam was asking for everything, more or less...and demanding that Jade swear an oath to uphold the deal. Cold anger washed through her as the implications became clear. Jade would have to force Alassa to keep the deal or die...leaving his child without a father. Jade would die, she was sure. He wouldn’t try to force Alassa into doing anything. Unless the oath was designed to compel him to do just that...

  “Your movement would become a nightmare,” she said, finally. “I would suggest, for the moment, that you concentrate on the Cockatrice Charter.”

  “It doesn’t have enough clauses to protect the weak and powerless,” Tam said, flatly. “And it doesn’t include anything like enough guarantees...”

  “It was designed as an evolving document,” Emily said. She’d written it herself, with a great deal of effort. “Look, here’s your problem. You’ve been burnt before, quite right, and you’re trying to close every loophole. But your efforts will lead to a rigid social system or utter madness. Not everyone is a merchant and not everyone’s conception of the Levellers includes leaving the merchants in control of the economy. You need something that will evolve over time.”

  “But not one that permits the nobility to regain power or the ki
ng to crush us,” Tam said, firmly. “We would sooner tear down the entire country than let that happen again.”

  “Think of it as a balancing act,” Emily said, with the private thought that Randor felt pretty much the same way. “The commons, the aristocracy...and the king.”

  “Queen,” Jade said. There was a certainty in his voice that could not be gainsaid. “Randor is not going to accept the Cockatrice Charter, is he?”

  “No,” Emily said. “He’d sooner die than accept any limitations on his power.”

  Tam took a long breath. “Very well. Let’s talk.”

  Emily sighed. It was going to be a long day. A very long day.

  But at least we’re making progress, she thought. If only we could figure out a way through the wards...

  Chapter Twenty

  EMILY LIFTED HER EYEBROWS AS A young woman–she couldn’t be more than a year or two older than Emily– stepped into the room. She wore a simple brown dress, her hair wrapped up in a headscarf; she could have passed for a fishwife if her fingers hadn’t suggested a gentler life. Emily thought she would have known the woman for a merchant even if she hadn’t had the same general attitude as Imaiqah, a subservient nature masking a calculating mind. The merchants had always given their daughters as full an education as possible, almost as much as they gave their sons. Their girls couldn’t be allowed to sit around and look pretty.

  “Hello,” the woman said. Her eyes flickered to Cat, then back to Emily. “I understand you wanted to see me?”

  Emily nodded, bracing herself. Two days of careful arrangements, two days of vetting potential suspects...it was tiring, even without the edge of danger. Lady Barb had taught her some things, but she was grimly aware that an unwitting traitor might slip through her wards and report straight back to the king. Or whoever had cast the compulsion spell in the first place. The Black Daggers had no compunctions about turning a commoner into a puppet. It wasn’t as if the commoners were noblemen.