The Demons We See

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The Demons We See Page 6

by Krista D. Ball


  “Good job. I’ll have the servants bring you out something.”

  “Dodd’s handling it,” Martin said. He gave Allegra a tight nod and said, “Your Ladyship.”

  When Martin disappeared back into the shadows of the stable, Allegra said, “You get along well with your men.”

  Rainier motioned for her to join him and together they walked toward the inn’s door. “We’ve worked together a number of years now. Lex and Dodd, especially. When Francois asked me to form his personal guard, those two were the first names out of my mouth. I couldn’t ask for better.” A hint of a smile tugged his mouth when he amended, “Well, most days.”

  The inn was of solid quality, which was no surprise considering the clientele that frequented the place. No back alley bawdy house was this. No, this was where respectable men brought their respectable wives; drunkards, gamblers, and whoremongers need not inquire within. The Prancing Alehouse was just around the corner for them.

  Lex and Dodd were busy making arrangements when Allegra walked inside. Allegra was to get one of the best rooms, once the title “Contessa” had been dropped in lowered whispers. Offers of a bath were made, but declined. She was too tired to wait for servants to carry the water up for her. Besides, the last time she’d ordered a bath here, the water was straight out of the well—in the middle of winter.

  Rainier was given an adjoining room to hers, with Lex and Dodd doubled up in a lower floor room. Additional rooms were taken for servants and the coachmen, all of lesser quality, of course, on the lower level.

  “Your Ladyship, would you like supper brought to your room?” Dodd asked.

  “Please,” she said, and Dodd turned back to the innkeeper. Allegra turned to Rainier and asked, “Would you like to take supper with me, Captain?”

  He accepted and all departed up the stairs to their rooms. Dodd chattered on about the food he’d ordered.

  “She’s out of hot food for the evening, but she’s sending up a plate of cold meats, bread, and the like. Oh, and she’s going to send up some spiced wine and tea, to make up for not having hot food. Not bad, huh?”

  “Did she have any meat pies, did she say?” Lex asked. “I could murder for a meat pie.”

  In unison, Lex and Dodd said, “Gammon pie.”

  Rainier leaned in and whispered, “Whatever you do, do not ask about the gammon pie.”

  “Why not?” she whispered back.

  “Trust me.”

  This only made Allegra more curious about this mysterious pie story, but they reached Lex and Dodd’s room before she could stir the fires. She and Rainier also parted ways on the next floor, with promises to eat together once the food arrived.

  Allegra’s room was typical of a side road inn. A tiny window with a cracked frame: the perfect home for bugs and spiders. The bed’s hay was lumpy and there was no hint of dried lavender or mint when she sniffed the air. At least the ropes were pulled tight and didn’t feel as though they were going to snap or sag when she sat down on the bed’s edge.

  There was a pitcher of water in front of the fire, and a wash basin on the modest dresser across from the bed; she’d take advantage of them in a moment. For now, she unbuttoned her pelisse and pulled off her lace scarf and rejoiced in the air flow against her dusty, sweaty skin.

  Allegra eventually peeled out of her various layers meant to signify her station in life and enjoyed bustling about her room in just her linen shift and corset. Nadira wasn’t arriving until later into the night; she and some of the other servants were held up by Father Michael wanting to send additional whatevers to Orsini. And deciding at the last moment, as ever.

  The quick wash in the fire-warmed water did her morale a world of good. A stray thought suggested she could ask one of her travelling companions to help her out of her corset for a more thorough wash. Perhaps Rainier would enjoy the job. Allegra laughed aloud at that. Clearly, she’d been without male company in her bed for far too long. Maybe she could invite all three up to help remove her corset. Why shouldn’t a lady have a little orgy in a back alley inn?

  She laughed heartily at her thoughts, and the various images of coordinating such an undertaking, and tugged herself into the dress she’d packed for the evenings. It was a stripped pink and brown dress, better at hiding the stains of travel. It was thin linen, however, and it was a cool evening, so she tugged her pelisse back on over it. After shaking out her travelling clothes, she draped them over her bed to air out.

  Soon enough, the expected knock sounded. A serving girl, perhaps eight or nine, stood at the door, carrying a wooden tray of food. She curtsied awkwardly.

  “Come in,” Allegra said, opening the door wide enough for the girl to enter. She noticed the two brands on the side of the girl’s neck instantly. One stating she was a mage; the other that she was free. “How old are you?”

  “Eleven, Your Ladyship,” the girl said in a meek voice. “I’m tiny for my age.”

  “That you are. You’re a free mage?”

  “Aye,” she said.

  Allegra stared at the brand and wondered if it was a real one. “Where did you go to school?”

  “Grayson Magical Theory Institute for the Poor in Cumberland,” she said instantly in a well-practiced voice.

  Allegra smirked. Cumberland was far enough away that no one would bother checking up on this girl. But, Cumberland was also close enough that, in theory, this girl could have travelled here with her family.

  “You should work on your Cumberland accent, my dear, to be more convincing,” Allegra said. “Some might question your free status.”

  The girl turned ashen. Her eyes narrowed, though, and she didn’t have a hot defense on her tongue. This wasn’t her first encounter with prying eyes.

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” Allegra pulled out several pennies from her purse and handed them to the girl. “Do you have to show your tips?”

  She nodded.

  “Then the pennies are for them to see.” Allegra pulled out a quarter-crown coin. “And this is for you to hide in your shoe.”

  The little girl finally brightened. She shoved the shiny coin into her slouched stocking and wiggled her foot until it was in a safe and comfortable location. Then she pocketed the pennies and said, “Thanks, Your Ladyship.” She attempted, and failed, to curtsy properly.

  When the girl left, Allegra wondered how she got the brands. There was no faking them. How did a girl in her position get a mage brand, but escape slavery? Either she really did attend the Cumberland school, or someone rescued that little girl. Maybe it was a scheme to extort money from lily-livered contessas with too much money and pity to spare. Probably that one.

  A rap at the door interrupted her considerations. “Contessa?”

  She smiled and opened the door. Captain Rainier was there, looking refreshed and buttoned down without his green uniform jacket. His white sleeves billowed around him, but were kept from causing too much trouble by the tight cuffs at his wrists. He was carrying his own serving tray of food and drink.

  “Good evening, Contessa,” he said with a wide smile.

  “Good evening, Captain. Look at you, out of uniform. Not even a cravat or necktie. You look practically undressed. How scandalous. What will the people say?”

  He snorted and put the tray down on the small table in the corner of her room. “I suspect they’ll say nothing, since no one actually cares about me enough to gossip.”

  “Or perhaps they’ll say look at him, finally settling down.” Allegra laughed merrily. “We should dine together whenever possible at the Cathedral. Give the old gossips something to write about.”

  “Letters keep empires afloat,” the Captain said in agreement. “The postage taxes alone.”

  Allegra took her seat and motioned for him to join her. The chair legs were uneven and rocked a few times before she found the right position. “Did you get the same as me?”

  Rainier lifted the wooden cover over his
plate. “Hmm. Cold ham. That’s goose pie, I think.” He took a bite. “Duck? This one…meat pie some kind. Beef, maybe?” He took another bite. “Definitely beef. Lex will be happy with that, at least.”

  Allegra scraped the crusted old food from her fork with her nail before taking a bite from the stew-like center of the pie. “A bit dry, but well-seasoned. So Lex will be pleased with this, will he?”

  “Ha! Those two, Lex and Dodd, would eat the Cathedral out of house and home if they were allowed. I don’t know how they do it, especially Lex. Skinny as a bannister’s railing, that one.”

  “Dodd, at least, is broad enough that he has room to hide extra dessert.”

  Rainier laughed and idle chat soon settled between them about their travel plans for the morning, time they’d be leaving, and the arrival of Allegra’s servants. Allegra tried to keep up the courtly manner of speech, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was tired from the long journey, and tired just thinking that this was only the first night. She has days, if not weeks, of courtly manners ahead of her.

  Captain Rainier didn’t seem to mind. He teased her about being changeable, and she defended herself by saying she was simply out of practice.

  “Manners are an easy skill to forget when you’re used to speaking your mind,” she’d said.

  “On the contrary, I don’t think you rude at all. Passionate, opinionated, wrong, but never rude.”

  “Wrong! How am I wrong?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow in the carriage.”

  “Why wait?” she challenged, though she was smiling when she said it. She had eaten all of her food, plus one of Rainier’s slices of pound cake. He offered her the final piece and she took it. “I love pound cake. I don’t let Nadira serve it to me whenever I take my meals in my room.”

  “Why not?”

  “The summer my mother died, the servants did everything they could think of to cheer me up. I ate a lot of pound cake that summer.”

  “Did it help?’

  Allegra snorted. “It helped make me too big to fit into any of my dresses, that’s about it. But I always think of that summer, and…I suppose in its own way, the cake helped. Although, it most likely wasn’t good for me, eating only that and not much else.”

  “Maybe not,” Rainier said. “Even I have to be careful now with the cake I eat. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  “Perhaps you need more practice rescuing princesses from dragons.”

  Rainier scoffed. “Those damned princesses in stories should have been taught how to hold a sword, then they’d never have needed the princes to rescue them.”

  “Tut,” she said. “How dare you deny young women their passions? Even I, as a young girl, dreamt of being kidnapped by a mythical beast and rescued by the man of my dreams.”

  “I suspect any dragon who kidnapped you would return you with a gold apology.”

  Allegra slumped back in her chair and sighed dreamily. “Too bad dragons aren’t real, then. I could always use the funds to free more slaves.”

  “Speaking of, did you notice that little serving girl was a free witch?” Rainier asked between bites.

  “Mage,” Allegra corrected him. There wasn’t any heat in her voice; it was nearly automatic these days. She did flash him a quick smile to say she wasn’t angry at his verbal slip. At least, he’d tried on other occasions.

  “Mage, right. But did you notice her?”

  “Of course I noticed her. I gave her a tip for the inn, and a tip to go in her shoe.”

  “Oh, that was good of you.”

  Allegra gave him a steady look. “Tell me you gave her coins, at least, so she could divide them up.” He cleared his throat. “Oh, Captain! You know better than that, surely.”

  “I am out of small coins!” he protested. “All I had was a gold crown.”

  “You gave her a gold crown and nothing else?”

  “Do you want me to give her a gold sovereign? Because all I have on me is gold coins, not even silver.”

  “This is why men should never be allowed to control their money.”

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “You mother sounds like a wise woman that I could learn much from.”

  “She’d likely adopt you,” Rainier complained. “Or marry you herself.”

  Allegra smiled at the idea of Rainier’s mother adopting her. She missed her own mother sometimes, but there were benefits to being an orphan on occasion. Still, it would be nice to have an older woman to write who wasn’t there to patronize her like the Grand Duchess.

  Still, there was a question to answer and anything was better than thinking about her dead mother. “To answer your question, yes, I did notice her. Poor thing.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Most likely, she was sold off to some government official because her mother couldn’t afford her. Then ran away, paid for her free brand with I don’t even wish to consider, and now she’s here, serving food. I suppose there are worse fates out there, so…” Allegra shrugged. “As long as they treat her well.”

  Rainier frowned. “You don’t actually believe that happens often.”

  “Which part?” Allegra asked, confused.

  “All of it. Any of it.”

  Allegra pulled an embroidered cloth from the hidden pocket within her voluminous skirts to wipe her fingers. “Of course it happens. A poor mother with too many mouths to feed and a husband who won’t keep his hands off her is common enough. She can barely feed the ones she has, and even the little ones are off earning a penny or two a day to keep the family solvent.”

  “I…”

  “She’s not had her cycle in months because she’s starving, and then realizes too late she’s actually quickened with a new child. So now she can’t even cease her pregnancy because all options will most likely kill her at this stage. So, what does she do, Captain?”

  “I…”

  “I’ll tell you what she does. She takes the youngest one who could conceivably be tainted with magic abilities to a local magistrate. Says the babe caught the curtains on fire the previous night. Hands her over. A silver crown graces the mother’s palm for bringing such a dangerous case to their attention. Well, that silver coin will pay for her birthing, and the early days when she will be too weak to work. Her husband might not even notice he’s missing a daughter. Females all look the same to men, do we not, Captain?”

  “What foolishness. I don’t think that way about women. I doubt anyone of sense does.”

  “Then you’re an idiot with his head buried in the trees because that is how the world sees poor women.”

  Rainier produced his own handkerchief to wipe the grease off his fingers. “You can’t actually believe any of that. Very few parents willingly give up their children.”

  “You were born into wealth and privilege. How would you know?”

  “I could say the same for you, Contessa of Marsina, perhaps the richest woman in all of Serna who isn’t a member of a royal family!”

  “What rot!” Allegra said, throwing her handkerchief on the table. “I have made it my life’s business to learn about how the other side lives. Surely you could have done the same!”

  It was his turn to throw down his handkerchief. “Of course! Yours is the only interpretation of events! For your next lecture, shall you teach us how we are all fools to believe in the teachings of the Cathedral?”

  She threw up her hands. “Well, you are a fool if you believe the nonsense about the origins of mages!”

  “Then I am a fool because I believe the teachings.”

  Shouting from beyond the room interrupted their argument. Rainier stood just as someone pounded on the door. He opened it to find the servant girl they’d been arguing about.

  “Captain Rainier?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “You need to come, sir. There’s men down below trying to arrest a witch and…just come and help, sir. Please.”


  Chapter 5

  “Stay here,” Stanton ordered the Contessa, and hoped she’d actually obey the instruction. He followed the young servant down the narrow, wooden stairs to the tavern below. “What happened?”

  “Magistrate’s men,” she said in a quavering voice. Even in the dim candlelight of the stairwell, she was visibly trembling.

  “This happen often?”

  “More these days,” she said. They rounded the turn in the stairs and she pointed down at the scene. “They’re after her.”

  Her was a frightened-looking woman of about forty. She wore tan trousers and black boots, along with an embroidered white tunic and a gray greatcoat. Her narrow, close-set eyes darted their gaze back and forth about the room, though she didn’t move from her position pinned up against the wall behind a vacated table.

  In front of the woman stood Lex with his sword drawn in one hand and a bottle in the other. Lex’s jacket was flung over a nearby chair, but it was still obvious he was a part of the Cathedral’s military to anyone with a clue.

  Flanking Lex was Dodd, sword also drawn. He held a wooden serving platter in his other hand as a shield. He was still wearing his jacket, clearly showing his rank.

  Stanton wasn’t wearing his jacket that identified his rank or position within the Cathedral’s military, but Dodd and Lex’s were on display. He hoped that would be enough to stop further escalation.

  In a quiet voice, Stanton said, “Girl, go back to my room and get my sword belt. It’s on the bed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Stanton didn’t like charging into a fight with no uniform, no weapon, and nothing but good trousers and boots to identify him as a gentlemen. Stanton squared his shoulders and thudded more heavily than was strictly necessary down the stairs and bellowed, “What is the problem here?”

  The beaked-nosed fellow didn’t turn to look at Stanton. “None of your business, sir. Back to your room. We’re dealing with this.”

 

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