The Frost Maiden talked about Lord Edmund. “He is no longer subject to our laws, but I do not doubt he has been called to account at a higher court. Were he still with us, he would be called to account here. As had been widely believed and accepted as right, the Water Office will not give a nobleman’s illicit desires precedence over a common woman’s virtue. The penalties imposed on the nobleman will be the same as if he had assaulted a noblewoman.”
Maggie squealed. The building shook as the commoners in the balconies yelled, whistled, hooted, hollered, and pounded their feet. The king seethed. The queen clapped.
We are out of time. Break them now.
A muscle in my back spasmed. I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and heaved. The weight lifted from my shoulder, and fell.
Breakfast with
the Duke
The harsh clang of breaking metal drowned out the other noises. I fell, hitting my head on the Frost Maiden’s empty chair. My chest burned, muscles cramped, arms turned to jelly. Hands grabbed me and pulled me back onto the bench. The Earth Mother laid hands on me and eased the pain in my chest and back. Sweat trickled into my eyes and mouth. I leaned back and looked at the Earth Mother.
“Thank God you lived through that,” she said.
“What did he do?” Several voices demanded.
She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at the king. He was frowning, watching the Frost Maiden. The three water wizards huddled around her. Voices rose and fell. Hands waved. The Frost Maiden’s ring blazed with a steady, bright light, casting weird shadows across the ranks of cawing aristos.
“I cast an illusion spell,” the Air Enchanter said. “No one outside this circle can see or hear us.”
“He used the king’s hammer,” the Earth Mother said. “The one King Stephen forfeited rights to.”
“I got that much,” the Fire Warlock said. He picked up the Frost Maiden’s chair and set it upright. “But—”
“And it would have killed a weaker man. I wouldn’t advise doing it again.”
I mumbled, “You told me to.” My head swam.
“How could he swing the king’s hammer?” Master Jean said. “It is as ringed with spells as the king himself.”
“Hammers are Earth Guild, Jean,” she said. “Your guild isn’t the only one with secrets.”
Master Jean gave her a look that would have scorched a commoner. “So what has he done?”
“He broke the Water Office’s shackles to the king.”
“Ah.” He straightened up and stared at the Frost Maiden’s back. “Marvels and wonders, you said.”
The luscious woman who turned to face us had sparkling eyes and roses in her cheeks. She smiled at me. I gulped, and quivered like a raw apprentice mooning over the master’s daughter.
The water wizards filed back into place. The lead man rubbed his hands and fought down a grin. Master Charles squeezed my shoulder on his way past.
The Frost Maiden faced the muttering crowd and held up her hand for silence. “You have witnessed an event that has not happened in centuries: the breaking of old patterns as the Water Office responds to the weight of public opinion. The Water Office is no longer bound to favour one class at the expense of all others. A commoner with truth on his side need no longer fear to approach the Crystal Palace, and Justice Hall shall regain its proper name.” Her voice rang like a trumpet. The king stared.
“And now,” she said, all business again, “I shall demonstrate the truth of the Water Office’s reform.” The roses in her cheeks faded. “Grandmaster Duncan Archer, I summon you to hear your fate.”
I was on my knees in front of the Frost Maiden. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten there. If Doug hadn’t been standing beside me with a hand on my shoulder, I would have fallen over.
The Frost Maiden looked up at the balconies, holding out her empty hand. “You see, I do not carry the hourglass. No one, today, will die at the behest of the Water Office.”
The balconies got noisy again. She held up her hand. “Save the celebrations for later. We still have much to cover before the day is over.”
She waved her hand at me. “You have seen the qualities of this man. The Water Office understands Frankland needs more men like him, not fewer. To make his life forfeit for an act of self-defence, even one causing a nobleman’s death, does not serve the cause of justice, nor will it benefit Frankland.”
She went on, covering the same ground she’d covered at the trial. The aristos were almost within arm’s reach. I could have been back in Blacksburg, in the days before the riot, only now it was the aristos about to boil over. The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
There was death in the air, and it might yet be mine, even if it didn’t come from the Water Office.
The Frost Maiden said I couldn’t strike the first blow in a fight. The aristos didn’t seem to care. The angry mutterings a few feet away kept on. Then she began talking about blood money. The muttering changed to satisfied snickers. The king leaned back in his throne, smiling. The dukes gloated. Doug’s fist beat on my shoulder.
She said, “Earl Eddensford does not need a smith’s support to survive. Therefore, the bulk of the reparations Grandmaster Duncan must pay will go where it may do the most good. For the next ten years, he will give one-fifth of all he earns to Frankland’s neediest widows and orphans.”
I gaped. Doug gaped. I looked at the earl. The earl gaped.
She said, “Nonetheless, the Water Office will not allow a precedence to be established that does not include reparations to the dead man’s family.”
She gave me a long look. Doug’s fingers dug holes in my shoulder. I held my breath.
“The Water Guild Council has determined that in this case, and in this case only, the fair amount due is one gold frank.”
Doug leaned on me. I smacked both hands on the floor or he would have knocked me flat, and he was supposed to be holding me up.
The crowd roared. The king bellowed. A cold breeze blew through the ballroom. The noise died to an angry rumble from the aristos.
“Save the celebrations for later was not a suggestion,” the Frost Maiden said. “Each time I am interrupted the hall will become colder.” She turned to the men on the king’s right hand. “Earl Eddensford, are you satisfied with this judgement?”
The earl licked his lips, eyes moving between the Frost Maiden and the king. “Yes, Your Wisdom, I am.” The angry rumble grew.
She asked me a question. I couldn’t make it out. I owed one frank. I could go home. Someday I’d scrape enough together to buy a horse. I could—
Doug whacked me, hard. “Aye, Your Wisdom. He’s satisfied.”
“Very well. That is all. Return to your seats.”
“Stay there,” the king growled. “You’ve asked the earl and the smith if they’re satisfied. You haven’t asked us.”
The Frost Maiden raised an eyebrow. “If both parties in a dispute are satisfied, Your Majesty, there is no need for you to be involved.”
“But what if we’re not satisfied? We can override the Water Office, if we wish.”
“Please, Your Majesty, I beg you not to.” The earl was on his feet, swaying, like he was the condemned man facing the Frost Maiden. “Please do not heap further dishonour on my house.”
The king said. “But the price of an earl’s son…”
“Edmund was not worth it, Your Majesty. This family has already suffered for his sins. Any blood money you require them to pay me, I will return to them, doubled. I cannot take their misery on my conscience.”
There was not a whisper in the ballroom. When the Air Enchanter cleared his throat, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Perhaps, Your Majesty,” the Enchanter said, “you should wait until we have heard the third case. A few minutes delay won’t hurt, and you can deal with all three cases at once.”
&
nbsp; The king gave the earl another hard stare, then shrugged. “Go on, then.”
My body slid into place on the wooden bench, but my soul danced on a mountaintop. I was king of the world.
Maggie’s face glowed. “One frank,” she breathed. “Duncan, did you do that?”
I threw up my hands and looked at Master Jean. He nodded without taking his eyes off the king. I fell several thousand feet down the side of my mountain. Wherever Master Jean was, it wasn’t the top of the world. He hadn’t relaxed at all.
“And now, Your Majesties, lords and ladies,” The Air Enchanter said, “we shall review the events on the morning of Lord Edmund’s death.”
I twisted my neck to see.
The mirror cleared, showing the White Duke and his guests, making a din over breakfast. A clerk stood by the duke’s chair, reporting on some business. A door at the other end of the room opened, and Jake Higgins came in, leading Reverend Angus.
I snarled. The fire lad was right; I should have escorted that trouble-making preacher to Edinburgh myself. Whatever the Frost Maiden did to him, he’d deserve it.
Jake led him to the duke’s side, and started out. The duchess’s head snapped up. Her shrill voice carried over the other noises. “What was that about the Archers?”
The preacher said, “I was informing His Grace that the blacksmith, Duncan Archer, has returned to Abertee after being in the Blacksburg riot. I was about to suggest that the duke take action before the blacksmith causes trouble here.”
The duke looked alarmed. His duchess said, “Excellent suggestion. Thank you for coming to inform us. Rupert, are you paying attention?”
The clerk coughed. “Excuse me, Your Grace, but I don’t believe he means to cause trouble. I had heard he was back in Crossroads, and had ordered out of Abertee a man who had played a part in causing the riot. Mr Archer said he had the authority as the new head of the Blacksmith’s Guild. He was showing off a certificate signed by a swordsmith.”
The duke brightened. “Got it, did he? Good for him.”
The duchess screeched, “Good? Rupert, you are a first-class idiot. Didn’t you hear what the man said? That smith was in the riot.”
“He was,” the preacher said. “He admitted it, himself.”
The clerk said, “But, Your Grace, the story from Crossroads was that he helped someone the rioters attacked.”
She snapped, “Of course that’s the story he’d tell to make himself look good, but he’s a troublemaker. Those Archers are always complaining about something or other, as if they expect us to spend our money on their roads or dams or such. I’d be glad to get rid of the whole lot of them.”
The duchess waved the clerk away, and he bolted. Jake Higgins had backed into a spot by the door where he blended in with the footmen.
The duke said, “But dear—”
“Don’t ‘dear’ me, Rupert. We’ve put up with those Archers for too long. It’s time we evicted them.”
“We can’t evict them, they’re freeholders.”
“Can they prove it? Of course not.” She looked down the table. “Would any of you be willing to ride over to that backwater and tell those Archers to leave?”
“But dear—”
Jake crept close to the table, between Lord Edmund and the duke’s son. He said softly, “The blacksmith’s sister is the best-looking lass in Abertee.”
Maggie whimpered. I punched the back of the Fire Warlock’s chair. He grunted.
Doug grabbed my arm and pushed it down. “You won’t hit him. I will.”
In the mirror, Lord Edmund smirked. “Well, then, it might be worth the trouble.” The duke’s son snickered. Lord Edmund raised his voice. “I’ll go, Your Grace. I don’t mind.”
The duke went white. “No, wait, don’t. I’ll tell them to go the next time they come with a complaint.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the duchess said. “They’ll talk you into letting them stay, just like they’ve talked you around on everything else you’ve argued with them about. No, if Edmund goes, it will get done. He’s not a soft sap like you.”
She swept out of the room, Lord Edmund and Jake Higgins right behind her. The room cleared out until the White Duke was alone at the table, horror on his staring face.
The weight, once again, built up on my shoulders. I should have known that sour hussy was behind it. She had caused no end of trouble for everybody in Abertee, the duke included. Somebody ought to take her down a notch. She glared at me, her nose pinched like she smelled something rotten. Her son looked like a cat that had swallowed a juicy mouse.
The Fire Warlock had promised to deal with the man responsible. Reverend Angus wasn’t in sight. Oh, God, he hadn’t gone after that pissant Jake Higgins, had he? Jake deserved whatever he got, but he was small fry. I wanted that preacher shut up for good.
The mirror clouded over. The Frost Maiden walked to the centre of the stage, and faced the White Duke. “Your Grace, you have been charged with and found guilty of dereliction of duty. I summon you to hear your fate.”
The King’s Sword
A duke, called to account? My jaw dropped. The king bellowed. The ballroom got cold.
“Your Majesty,” the Frost Maiden said, “please do not interrupt until you have heard the sentence.”
The king had lost his hammer, but he still had a sword. The aristos made a din but I couldn’t take my eyes off the king. He slid the sword several inches out of its scabbard. I knew that sword. A year ago Brother Clive had let me swing it.
“Stop this farce,” the king said. “He is a duke; his behaviour is our concern, not yours. He may do as he pleases, as long as he does not usurp our position.”
“No, Your Majesty. A duke may not do as he pleases. He is as bound by the requirements of his position as Grandmaster Duncan is by his. However, it is true this case should not have come to the attention of the Water Office. The Water Office is the court of last resort, only to be used if a nobleman is not called to account by his superior.”
“What you don’t see,” the Fire Warlock growled, “is that Sorceress Lorraine and the Water Office are trying to protect the nobility from the Fire Office.”
“Explain yourself,” the king said. He watched the Fire Warlock with narrowed eyes, his hand busy with his sword. Brother Clive’s swords were the best, Brother Randall had said—he beat the spell in with every stroke.
“Abertee went straight from being the one corner of Frankland I was least worried about, to one about to boil over, and it was his doing.” The Fire Warlock jabbed a finger at the cowering duke. “Or, rather, his not doing what he should’ve, and letting his wife kick a hornet’s nest. Things have quieted down since the end of June—no more riots, mostly because the nobles were on their way here, and the Water Guild blocked all trials. But it can, and will, heat up again, and when the next riot happens—that’s when, not if—things are going to be different.”
The Fire Warlock was on his feet, walking along the line of dukes, glaring down at them. “The next time there’s a riot, the nobleman who caused it, or let it happen, will burn, just like the rioters.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I can, and will. The Fire Office has come to see you shielded good-for-nothings as being as much of a threat to Frankland as the rioters are. It’s been a long time getting there, but it’s there now, and he’s the one”—another stab of the finger at the White Duke—“that got it there, by letting his bonehead duchess push out the man most responsible for keeping the peace in Abertee.”
The Fire Warlock rounded on the king. “And your only hope for saving your ignoble cousins is to let the Water Office have first dibs on them. If the Water Office convinces the Fire Office they’ll be held responsible, it won’t make me burn them. Which is it going to be, Your Majesty? It’s up to you.”
From several yards away, I felt t
he heat pouring off the angry wizard. Master Jean was half out of his chair, straining at the bit like a horse before the start of a race.
Don’t lose your temper, he’d said. Don’t give the Fire Office free rein, he’d meant. The burnt circle from the last Scorching Time where York had been was a mile wide. Big enough to wipe out everybody in Paris, packed into this ballroom and the streets and parks nearby.
My mouth went dry; my hands shook. No wonder Master Jean was scared silly.
The weight on my shoulders grew. I cursed under my breath.
The queen whispered in the king’s ear. He nodded, white-lipped. “Go on.”
Master Jean settled down, but didn’t relax. The aristos were boiling. Too stupid to be scared.
Maggie nudged me and nodded towards the White Duke’s son. She whispered, “He was friends with Lord Edmund. When he’s duke…”
Hard to imagine even an aristo gullible or wicked enough to be friends with that rotten scum, but gossip said the lad took after his mum, not his dad. The lad smirked as the duke shuffled forward to kneel at the Frost Maiden’s feet. If she took his title away and made his son duke, God help us.
“Your Grace,” the Frost Maiden said, “you should not be here alone. Have you no one to stand with you? Your son? Your wife? A friend?”
The White Duke shook his head and mumbled.
“That’s not right,” Maggie said. Doug and I looked at each other.
The Frost Maiden raked the line of dukes with her eyes. “Will not one of you, his kinsmen and peers, come to his aid?” They all looked away.
Doug took a deep breath and shifted his weight forward. I stood up. “I’ll stand with him, Your Wisdom.”
Heads turned to stare. The Frost Maiden said, “I beg your pardon?”
“He’s one of ours. From Abertee, I mean, and I’d do it for anybody in Abertee.” Besides, it was only fair; I got him into this mess.
The Blacksmith Page 28
