Dodd merely stretched his sword out just a touch more. “Back away and no one gets hurt.”
“Not until you give us the witch,” snarled one of the attackers. The attacker was average. Average height, average age, average weight. His hair was light brown, as was his skin, though it was from sun exposure and not nature. He was holding a sword on Dodd, and was backed up by six thugs.
“She’s not going anywhere,” Lex said in a low growl.
Stanton hit the last step. “You’re pointing weapons at two of my men. So, no, I don’t believe you are dealing with the situation. Lower your weapons immediately and I will not need to report this to the Chief Justice of Borro, who happens to be a personal friend.”
The fellow sneered. “You ain’t in Borro County anymore. Nat’s Crest is Queen Portia’s town.” He bared his teeth. “Now, get lost, sir.”
Stanton didn’t move. He had lost track of his surroundings travelling in the carriage and had forgotten Nat’s Crest was divided between two nations; they must have been on Cartossa’s side. Ruled by the teenaged Queen Portia, Cartossa was heavily under the influence of General Bonacieux. A man whose hatred and fear of witches made Cartossa the epicenter of brutality against mages, even free ones. Most of the Cathedral believed General Bonacieux would be the spark that would start the war everyone was trying to avoid.
“Queen Portia is still under Cathedral law,” Stanton said. “You will tell me what is going on here or I will report you to Chief Justice Andrewson, who I will make a personal friend of mine.”
“Report?” one of the thugs in the rear said. “We’re on important business for the magistrate, sir. You’ve got no say in this.”
“Shut up, Jenkins,” the beak-nosed man said. “Go back to your room, sir. This doesn’t concern you. I won’t tell you again.”
Lex tightened his grip on his weapons. “They’re saying she’s an illegal mage.”
Stanton took a couple more steps forward. He noticed the servant on the stairs with his sword, but he gave her a small signal to stay put for now.
“She got the tattoos and papers to say she’s free,” Dodd added. “But they won’t leave her be.”
“Witches aren’t free in Cartossa,” the head ruffian said.
“The law disagrees!” Lex snapped back.
Stanton’s heart pumped hard in his chest, but he kept his voice calm and stern. By his estimation, there were forty people total in this room. A brawl in tight quarters such as this could result in several unintentional deaths. He had no wish for innocents to be harmed, and that included the witch.
“If she has her papers, by Cathedral law you cannot arrest her,” Stanton said. “Are you working for a magistrate who is ordering you to break Cathedral law? Or are you lying and simply think you can harass an innocent woman without repercussions?”
“Witches are never innocent!” the beak-nose man said. “A noble’s house was burned to the ground two weeks ago by witch bitches like her.”
“I wasn’t even in Cartossa two weeks ago, you filthy bastard!” the woman shrieked. “Just let me go!”
“You’ll be going to a silver mine drugged out of your mind,” the Jenkins fellow said. “Nowhere else for a witch bitch killer.”
“Is there any evidence she has anything to do with these attacks?” Stanton took another step, veering toward a vacated tables where cards and bottles rested. “Arresting free mages is expressly against Cathedral law.”
In fact, it was one of the edicts the Council of Cardinals put forward almost a year ago in hopes of stemming the harassment of free mages. It had always been an unspoken law, but now it was official. These men were breaking a Holy Writ; they weren’t just breaking a law, they were breaking the laws of the Lord Almighty.
This was why an active Arbiter of Justice was so necessary, Stanton thought bitterly. If the Contessa would simply accept the role she’d been offered, she could step into this situation, render her decision, and all parties would have to honor it.
“What is your name?” Stanton asked the accused mage, taking two steps closer to her.
It had been a long time since Stanton had been in a tavern brawl. Lex and Dodd had the advantage on him if the situation escalated further. Stanton carefully raised his hands out to his sides to show he had no weapons or tricks up his blousy sleeves. In doing so, he was able to turn closer to the table littered with abandoned mugs, plates, and a large metal pitcher. The table’s former occupants were most likely among the men and women pressed up against the far wall under the stairs.
“Not any further,” the man said in a deadly voice. He didn’t move his sword from Dodd, but he extended his free arm to point at Stanton. “Who in the abyss do you think you are?”
He looked at the witch when he spoke. “I’m Captain Stanton Rainier, of the Holy Father’s Own Consorts. These are my men, Lieutenants Dodd and Lex. I am escorting a very important individual to Orsini Palace to meet with the Holy Father. I am keenly aware of your rights as a…mage.” She gave him a very slight acknowledgment. He looked at the man he supposed led the merry band of idiots. “Name?”
“Matthews. I work for Sir Bertrand, the magistrate for Montfort County. Which is where we are, since we’re all in Cartossa right now and not on the bleeding heart side of Amadore.” He pointed at the woman. “I’m not leaving until I arrest her.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong!” she shouted at them.
“You’re not in a mine,” Matthews said. “That’s crime enough.”
“You’re not taking her,” Lex growled.
“You’ll be coming through us first,” Dodd said. “And good luck with that, Sparky.”
Stanton cautiously lowered his hand until he touched the back of a chair. He curled his fingers between the framing. “Let us discuss this like…”
Stanton was going to say gentlemen, but the man standing next to Jenkins threw a bottle at Dodd. He blocked it with his serving platter, shattering the neck. Glass shards sprayed the air in an arc. The bottle hit the floor and cracked more.
Blood trickled down Dodd’s face where several slivers hit him. “Bastard!”
Dodd lunged at Matthews, just as Matthews came in with a high slash. Dodd managed to parry in time, and then the real fight began.
Stanton looked over at the stairs, but the serving girl was gone. As was his sword she was carrying. He muttered darkly under his breath and picked up the chair he’d been holding. He smashed it over a sword-wielding woman’s back. She was taller than he was, and he wasn’t ever going to be considered a petite man. The chair didn’t break, but the woman let out a groan and fell to the tavern floor.
“Stay down!” Lex shouted at the witch over the fighting. The man working the meat spit in front of the fireplace grabbed the woman by the arm and pulled her back next to him. He picked up the iron poker and stood firm behind Lex.
Dodd was hacking away at Matthews, spinning, pivoting, and turning as needed. Dodd might have been built like an ale barrel, but he was a gentleman’s son. He knew how to use a sword.
Stanton couldn’t help, however, since he had his own troubles. Jenkins rushed him with a club, and Stanton only had a chair. Skilled swordsmen and experienced field soldier he was; tavern brawler he was not.
“Let me piss on those boots!” Jenkins taunted.
Jenkins’ swing was weak, and Stanton deflected the blow easily with the chair. Jenkins grabbed one of the legs, all the while swinging at Stanton’s head. For a little guy, Jerkins had a good reach on him, but Stanton was able to lean back enough to avoid being whacked repeatedly in the head. He jerked the chair. Jerkins stumbled, and Lex helpfully tried to break a bottle over his head. The bottle remained intact, but Jenkins hit the floor with a surprised exhalation. He didn’t get back up. Lex turned back to fighting off anyone who got too close to the mage.
Stanton rushed Matthews, who was holding his own against Dodd still, and hit him square in the ribs with the chair legs. There was a crack, and St
anton assumed it was ribs and not the chair as Matthews crumpled to the floor holding his torso.
Lex and one of the older male servants who’d jumped over the bar were fighting off three men with various weapons. Stanton raised his chair to strike the closest to him when a firm, clear feminine voice cut through the air.
“Enough!”
Chair still raised above his head, Stanton snapped his head around to see the Contessa walking down the stairs. She carried his sword belt clenched in one hand, but it was clear she was only carrying it and not intending to use it.
“Put your weapons down,” she ordered.
Her voice was merciless. Gone was the woman he’d been arguing with earlier, or the laughing woman he’d shared a carriage with. This was the Contessa of Marsina, a woman of power and authority, and when she spoke, she expected the world would listen.
Stanton eyed the mercenaries. They hadn’t put away their weapons, but they had lowered them. They stared at her with a combination of fear and awe. Even if they didn’t know who she was, it was obvious she was important and angering her would bring down no end of trouble upon their heads—sanctioned arrest or not.
She ignored him and walked down the last few steps. She stepped over Jenkins’ moaning form, not even bothering to look down to ensure she was clearing his limbs, and the dazed man yanked his hand back inches before her heeled boot slammed down on fragile bones.
She glanced at Stanton and gave him an emotionless once-over that made him feel rather self-conscious. He was, after all, sweating, panting, and holding a chair at chest-level, ready to use it as a battering ram. The Contessa handed him his sword and then walked to the back of the tavern where the witch hid behind Lex.
Stanton shouted, “Everyone, weapons away! This is…”
“I can speak for myself, Captain.”
****
Allegra had watched the scene unfold from the upper stairs with increased anger. How dare they violate Cathedral law by arresting an innocent mage? How dare they come into this public place and start a brawl, all in the name of justice? This is why there was already a mage rebellion happening, even if no one wanted to admit it. This right here was why. This right here was why peace was impossible now.
As a noble, she’d heard the horrible tales of her peers being attacked. Their fields burned. Animals slaughtered in their barns. Estates burgled and priceless artifacts destroyed or stolen. She never cared about those the way she cared about this stranger. For when her peers were attacked, she always asked herself: and how many slaves did he own? Too often, they deserved whatever the rebelling mages did to them. And likely even more.
Allegra swept through the tavern barely saying a word. Her hands were shaking, though it wasn’t all from the fear of walking into a swordfight. The elemental magic within her blood, her innate desire to create fire, swelled and boiled. She pulled on her earliest secret lessons to control herself, and pushed the fire deep into her soul.
While the magic itself was forbidden, she knew how to harness its raw power in other ways. She used it as fuel for the authority in her voice and the hatred in her eyes.
“Are you well?” Allegra asked the mage.
The woman’s cheeks were streaked with tears, and she could only give the barest of nods.
Allegra turned back to the mercenaries. “I am Allegra, Contessa of Marsina. Who is in charge? You?”
Matthews nodded, wincing with each breath. “Your Ladyship, we’re here to collect the bounty on this witch’s head, as is my right—”
“Stop speaking,” Allegra said coldly.
“She’s a witch,” he spat out the word.
Lex sidled up next to Allegra, sword extended. “The Contessa said to stop speaking.”
“What crime has this woman committed, beyond an accident of birth?” When he didn’t answer immediately, she said, “You will answer my question.”
“Fucking around with demons isn’t no accident, Your Ladyship,” he said sourly.
Allegra’s heart pounded at the slur. How often she’d heard that cursed justification for the persecution of mages throughout her life. She wanted to slap the man for every single slight ever said against her, but instead she intertwined her fingers tightly in front of her.
“I am a mage, and I can assure you I have not fucked around with any demons.” She thrust as much venom into the vulgarity as she could.
Matthews twitched, but had the good sense to remain silent. Even Dodd glanced at her, eyes wide in surprise. No one ever expected a lady of rank to utter vulgarities.
“Since mages are apparently not allowed to be free in Cartossa, contrary to Cathedral law, are you going to arrest me?” She took another step forward. “Shall I, too, be shackled? Which of you will claim me as your prize? The great Contessa of Marsina was captured by your mighty hand. Surely that would garner you a substantial reward. What? No one has anything to say? No one wants to step forward and slap ropes upon my wrists?”
“The magistrate is offering a silver crown for every witch,” Matthews wheezed. “We’re just doing our jobs.”
She held her hands out, palms up. “Then, by all means, do your job.”
Captain Rainier, Dodd, and Lex stepped in front of Allegra, swords all drawn. Rainier, in a low, dangerous voice, said, “Touch her and die.”
It took Allegra a moment to regain her voice after Rainier’s warning. She’d not expected any of them to defend her so willingly. In any other circumstance, she might have smiled.
“You see,” Allegra said, eyeing the three men protecting her, “we, all of us, know this is illegal. You’ve gotten away with it until now because you harass anonymous women travelling alone at night, but we both know I’m not just some woman. I am a contessa, childhood friend to His Radiance the Holy Father himself. I am travelling with an armed guard. There’s more outside, with the baggage. Did you realize that? You see, no one bothered to call for the rest of my help since these three were more than capable of handling a bunch of back alley rats looking for a quick meal on the back of an innocent woman.” Allegra’s voice turned to a growl when she said, “I will not permit it.”
Matthews glared at Allegra, but remained silent.
“This is Montfort County, isn’t it? My cousin is the Duke of Montfort’s mistress. I believe I shall write her a letter, detailing the abominable treatment I’ve received at the hands of thugs hired by a nothing magistrate, who suggested I consorted with demons from the abyss.” Allegra returned his glare. “Would you like me to do that?”
Matthews shook his head. “That’s not needed, Your Ladyship.”
“Good.” Allegra straightened. “Go back to your little master and tell him I will report him to the authorities as soon as I arrive at Orsini Palace. Pray he escapes their long reach. Now leave my sight.”
The man looked like he was about to protest, but Dodd’s protective sword and Lex’s firm stance shielding the mage was enough to announce there was no negotiating out of this situation. There were a few “you’ll pay for this” and “she’s going to regret that” but they were empty words. The thugs tossed their chairs down, kicked tables, and smashed bottles on the floor before leaving, but they left.
Allegra released her breath only when the door slammed behind them. She had never, in her entire life, ever behaved with such reckless abandon to her personal safety. There were blades out everywhere. Those men could have arrested her and she’d be dead in a gutter before the dawn sun rose. They could have killed Rainier, or Lex, or Dodd, and then she’d be alone. The other guards outside? Maybe they were at the brothel. Maybe they were dead. She didn’t know and she’d put herself in danger.
She pressed a hand against her corseted torso and took even, steady breaths to calm herself. She could have lost control of herself. Then what? Then she would have been arrested lawfully. What was she thinking? Was she even thinking?
“Contessa?” Rainier asked very gently. He didn’t touch her. Just stood clo
se, sword still in hand. “Are you well?”
Allegra ignored his question for fear she’d start crying in the middle of the tavern. She turned to the woman at the center of all this and asked in a whisper, “Where are you headed?”
“Jennings, Your Ladyship.”
Allegra wished to ask more, but her courage was failing. As she gathered herself to finish the conversation, Rainier stepped in to help.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
“My maidservant is asleep upstairs and my two footmen are with the carriage.”
“What is your name?” Dodd asked.
“Mrs. Patricia Ansley, sir. Thank you so much for your heroic assistance. I am…” She began to weep. “Thank you.”
Lex awkwardly patted her shoulder. “There, there.”
Allegra drew in a deep breath and said, “I extend our protection for the remainder of your journey. We are travelling to Orsini, so we can escort you back across the border in the morning.”
“Thank you,” she whispered through her sobs.
Allegra’s vision blurred and she struggled to breathe past the lump in her throat. Beads of sweat formed along the length of her spine. The fear and the anxiety had finally caught up.
“Your Ladyship, are you all right?” Lex asked, concern lacing his voice.
Allegra gasped for air. She had never been this afraid in her life. What if they had arrested her? She could never have allowed them to take her, and then she’d have to show her magic. Allegra had fine control over her abilities, but she had never used them against anyone in her life. Would she accidentally kill them? If she had, she would have been a murderer.
“Contessa?”
Allegra looked up at Rainier and wondered how the Captain would have reacted. Would he have arrested her immediately? Would his sword now be covered in her blood?
He reached out to touch her arm gently, but she flinched away. She managed to squeak out, “Please ensure Mrs. Ansley’s safety. Excuse me.”
Allegra had made more graceful exits, but she prided herself for not having rushed up the stairs in a flurry of petticoats and screams. She reached her bedchamber and shut the door behind her. She flipped the latch lock and leaned against the door, panting from the relief of being alone.
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