Beyond that, I had studied the runes worked into them, but I couldn’t see any obvious reason why someone wearing them couldn’t be teleported. Gareth’s confidence wasn’t a show, though. I knew the red-bearded archmage well enough to know that he didn’t bluff. If he thought that an attempt to teleport me away would fail, then it probably would.
This just keeps getting better, I thought to myself. I was still lost in thought when the judge returned to the room.
Lady Rose took her place beside me as he stood behind the bench. “I have decided to allow Lady Hightower’s final witness to testify. Lady Hightower, please seat your witness.”
Karen led Millie forward, and moments later she was in her place, looking shy and very uncomfortable with so many eyes on her. She was dressed in one of Irene’s old dresses, a pretty yellow outfit that covered up most of her scars. I wondered for a moment if that was wise, since it might help for everyone to see just what the Prince had done to her, but I felt ashamed of myself immediately afterward. She had suffered enough.
Since Rose had called her, she was the first to examine Millie. She stepped confidently onto the floor and faced the girl. “Please state your name for the court.”
“Millie, milady.”
“And your surname?”
Millie stared at her feet. “I don’t know it, milady. I was taken into the Prince’s service when I was very young.”
“But you originally came from Lord Airedale’s estate, is that correct?” asked Rose.
Her answer was almost too quiet to hear. “Yes, milady.”
“How old are you now, Millie?”
“Twelve I think, milady,” said the girl.
“And how long have you been in the Prince’s service?” continued Rose.
Millie hesitated. “I’m not sure. Five or six years, maybe.”
Rose asked her next question with visible reluctance. “I know this is hard for you Millie, but it’s important for the court to hear. How old were you when the Prince began to abuse you?”
Millie shook her head. “He didn’t abuse me, milady. I was his property. He could do as he pleased with me.”
The crowd in the gallery broke out in angry whispers. They weren’t loud enough for Judge Watson to bother with, however, so Rose went on. “And what did it please Prince Leomund to do, Millie? Did he hit you?”
The next ten minutes were painful and awkward, as Rose forced Millie to detail some of Prince Leomund’s favorite punishments, which frequently involved whips. Millie also admitted that the Prince used her for more intimate pleasures, though Rose kept her questions in that regard vague. It was enough that the court knew the truth, without embarrassing the girl with specific descriptions of his depraved acts.
Once Rose had established the extent of Prince Leomund’s perverse entertainment, Rose directed her questions to Millie’s relationships with her fellow servants. “Did the chief servant, Vander Brimmon, know about what the Prince did to you, Millie?”
The girl became visibly distraught, more so even than she had been during the previous questions. “Vander is a nice man,” she said loudly. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He was always kind to me.”
“Millie, please answer the question. Did Vander know about the Prince’s treatment of you?” Rose pressed.
Millie’s eyes were desperate. “Will he get in trouble for being kind to me?”
Ever patient, Rose shook her head. “No, dear. Kindness is never a crime. Will you answer my question? Did Vander know about the Prince’s treatment of you?”
In a voice so low it was practically a mumble, Millie answered, “He took care of my cuts, after the Prince was done. Sometimes, if I was told I couldn’t eat, he would sneak bread to me in my room.”
“Do you think Vander hated the Prince for the things he did, Millie?” asked Rose.
The girl shook her head.
“You have to answer out loud, Millie, so the court can hear,” Rose explained.
“Yes, milady. But he never would have done anything to him. Vander wasn’t like that,” insisted the girl.
Rose’s face grew sad. “Sometimes good men do violent things, Millie, to protect those they love.” Then she addressed Judge Watson. “I submit to the court my theory that Vander was the man who drove the blade into Prince Leomund’s heart. He had more than one reason to hate his lord, both the abuse he witnessed daily, and the threat that his own daughter might soon fall victim to it.”
Millie’s face turned pale at Rose’s words, and she began to tremble. Judge Watson remained more practical. “Lady Hightower, please finish your questions.”
She nodded. “Millie, after Lord Cameron came in and struck the Prince, he fell unconscious, correct?”
The girl nodded, tears running down her face. “Yes, milady.”
“Please tell the court what you saw after that. Did Lord Cameron treat your wounds and take you away?” asked Rose. “Was Prince Leomund still alive when you left?”
Millie was visibly shaking, and it took more than a minute before she could answer. When she did, it came in the form of a shout. “No!”
Astonished, Rose stared at her. “Please explain, Millie. Do you mean Lord Cameron didn’t hurt the Prince before leaving?”
“No!” shouted Millie once more. “H—he was so angry. It scared me. He made my back feel better, and then I saw him take a dagger and stab the Prince. It wasn’t Vander, I swear! Lord Cameron did it right in front of me.”
Rose flinched as though she had just been slapped, but she didn’t give up. “Please tell the truth, Millie, what happened?”
Millie jumped to her feet, screaming, “I am telling the truth. He stabbed the Prince!” Her finger was pointing straight at me.
“Millie, don’t lie,” said Rose desperately. “Did…”
But Judge Watson had heard enough. “Please don’t torment the witness, Lady Hightower. If you have no more questions, please step aside so Lord Oswald can examine your witness.”
Rose looked up at him with pleading eyes. “But, Your Honor.”
“Sit down, Lady Hightower. Lord Oswald, the witness is yours,” said the judge.
Lord Oswald stood, then with a flourish he bowed in the direction of the bench. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
The room was dead silent as I watched Rose. She was still standing in the middle of the floor, but before my eyes I saw her square her shoulders and lift her chin. She stared proudly at the judge before turning to look at the rest of the room. Her gaze was an accusation, or perhaps a statement of defiance, but when she sat down beside me once more, she seemed utterly calm.
After that the judge called for final statements, but I barely heard what was said. Lord Oswald got up and blathered on for a moment, already sure of his victory. I had a sense that Rose’s remarks were more poetic, but I wasn’t really listening as she made her final, impassioned plea. When she sat back down, I could tell by the look on her face that even she didn’t believe it had been enough.
Judge Watson stood and struck his gavel once more. I had a feeling the pompous bastard got a kick out of that. Then he began to speak. “Given the circumstances I don’t feel a long deliberation is necessary. Lord Cameron, I find you guilty of all charges. The punishment for the murder of a prince of the realm is death. I order that you be taken from this room and hanged without delay.” Then he banged his wooden hammer again, the twat.
Rose was up again immediately, protesting. “Your Honor, please allow some time. Lord Cameron hasn’t even been allowed to see his family.”
Lord Watson wasn’t moved. “Murderers do not merit the court’s sympathy, Lady Hightower. Keeping a wizard imprisoned is no easy task and has been an undue hardship on Lords Illeniel and Gaelyn. The sentence will be carried out immediately.”
I stared up at him as he said it, tempted to give him a piece of my mind. B
ut I had no idea what would happen next, so I restrained myself, cursing him silently, Fuck you too.
Chapter 36
Chad Grayson stared down at the steps leading from the Justice Building across the street. He stood atop the palace wall, and according to his calculations his targets would be at less than thirty meters when he eventually began to loose his arrows. Of course, shooting down from elevation, he didn’t have to worry nearly as much about drop. The wind was his only real concern, but the breeze was relatively mild.
The part he couldn’t quite get used to was the fact that he didn’t have to worry about the other guards. His original plan had been to steal uniforms and wait until it was nearly time before pretending to patrol the wall. It had been a good plan, though its main flaw had been the fact that the palace guards weren’t equipped with longbows—they carried crossbows. He hadn’t worried much about it, though. Most people weren’t particularly observant. As long as they waited until just before time, it would have been fine.
But with Elaine, none of that was necessary. He and Cyhan stood in the middle of the wall, peering between the merlons without a care in the world. He had thought she would make them invisible at first, but Elaine had explained the impracticality of that proposition. If they had been invisible, they wouldn’t have been able to see, making observation difficult.
Instead she had covered them in a double-layered illusion, disguising their clothes and faces. Even their weapons appeared normal, although she cautioned them that when they actually nocked arrows and made a full draw, it would probably look strange unless she was close by to adjust their illusion. She had been confident that her efforts would fool the krytek, as well as the other mages who would soon be exiting the building across the street.
The only thing that made him nervous was that Elaine wasn’t with them now. She had left thirty minutes earlier to prepare for their escape. She had picked out a spot within the walls that didn’t seem to be frequented by the patrols. It was in the corner where two walls met, and it was there that she was making a circle to teleport them out once their job was done. Like their personal disguises, she planned to cloak the circle in a double-layered illusion as well.
She had promised to return as soon as she was done, but that was half an hour ago, and Chad worried that the trial would finish before she got back. He looked over at his companion, wondering if he was nervous.
Cyhan stood still, imitating a statue.
Nah, the ugly bastard wouldn’t know how to be nervous, thought Chad.
They’d had one close call a few minutes before, when a patrolling guard had stopped to ask what they were doing, but Cyhan had run the man off. His uniform was marked by a sergeant’s stripes. “We’re not on duty, guardsman. We’re just here to watch the show.” That had been all he’d had to say.
The big man hadn’t really had to act, either. He was used to commanding men. His usual looming menace combined with his obvious experience meant he probably could have said almost anything and the guard would have left them alone.
Let’s just hope he doesn’t talk to his buddies, though. Chad rubbed his brow and turned his attention back on the street below. He wanted a drink. His nerves were strung tighter than his bow, but it was something he was used to from past experiences. Never killed an archmage before, though. That’s something new.
Rose’s instructions had explicitly stated he should kill his targets if possible, but that only showed her inexperience in these matters. No fucking way I’m going to wing one of the bastards. That’s just askin’ for a horrible death.
A murmur began in the crowd below, and he knew it was almost time. People were beginning to emerge from the building. The first ones out were unimportant. Reflexively, Chad checked his arrows again, arranging them in front of himself. Ten shots, he reminded himself. There were more in the quiver at his waist, but by the time he got to those, he and Cyhan should already be running.
“Where is that fuckin’ girl?” muttered the hunter.
“There they are,” cautioned Cyhan, lifting his bow and rolling his shoulders to loosen the muscles.
Four guards were on the stairs now, spreading out to keep the crowd back. Behind them, Mordecai emerged into the sunshine with Tyrion on one side and Gareth on his other. Lady Rose followed close behind them. Wait for the signal, Chad reminded himself silently. We don’t know what happened.
He fervently hoped she wouldn’t raise her arm. The best possible ending would be for him and Cyhan to simply leave quietly.
Rose was glancing up at the sky, and she started to move, but Gareth Gaelyn turned suddenly and grabbed her arm, shaking his head and saying something. Did he just stop her from signaling?
Then one of the guardsmen said something to the crowd, and a roar went up. “Hang him!”
Good enough for me, decided Chad. “On the count of three,” he announced to his companion. Lifting his hundred-and-twenty-weight bow, the hunter began to pull, drawing it to its full extension. “One, two…” Lining his arrow up with Tyrion Illeniel, he said his usual silent prayer, Fuck you, asshole.
***
The sun was blinding as I stepped outside, held tightly by my two captors. I could feel Rose’s presence behind me, which for some reason terrified me. I didn’t know exactly what she had planned, but with all the guards, two archmages, and countless people around, I couldn’t help but feel she was standing naked in a sea of predators. If anything happened now, there was no telling who might die.
Then Gareth released my arm and leaned back, grabbing Rose’s wrist. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
Had she been about to signal something? I wondered. My eyes scanned the crowd and then went to the palace wall across the street from us. There were quite a few guards there at various places. Most of them appeared to be watching the commotion in the street as much as guarding anything. Two of them in the center seemed a little odd, though, holding their crossbows at an odd angle.
Tyrion and Gareth both had simple shields around them—nothing special, but enough to stop an arrow. It didn’t do them any good, though. Tyrion’s body jerked as a massive war arrow ripped through his chest with such force that it completely exited the backside of his body and nearly impaled my knee. A similar arrow hit Gareth, burying itself in his left shoulder and ripping through his shoulder blade.
Absently, I noted that the bodkin points on the two arrows were ones I had enchanted and given to Chad Grayson before our first trip into Lancaster. I also realized that two more arrows were already standing out from Tyrion’s chest, just as a second arrow found Gareth.
Both men were reeling, not just from the shock of the arrows, but from the feedback that destroying their shields had caused. Even so, Tyrion’s aythar flared and his tattoos came to life, creating a much more powerful enchanted shield around his body. Three more arrows shattered against it as he fell to his knees.
Gareth was not so fortunate, though his assassin seemed a bit slower. A third arrow passed through his belly as he fell.
Nine arrows had been fired in the span of less than three seconds, and each of my captors had at least three feathered shafts sticking out from their respective bodies. It was at that point that the crowd finally took notice, and people began screaming.
The guards on the steps finally drew their swords, seeming to move in slow motion, then began to fall as arrows took them in their legs. Apparently, whoever was shooting wasn’t as worried about killing them, and he had the skill to attempt it. I knew enough about archery to know hitting their legs was much harder than the much larger target of their chests. Someone was tugging on my arm, and I looked up to see Rose’s anxious eyes on me. “Step back!” she urged.
Karen appeared from nowhere and placed her hands on each of us. Her face took on a look of concentration for a moment, and then—nothing happened. Holding up my hands, I shook my manacles in front of her. “They dr
ain away aythar, including yours when you try to teleport me. Take Rose and go!” At last I understood what Gareth had meant, and I felt stupid for not realizing it earlier.
Karen nodded, looking torn, but Rose slapped her hand away. “No! Get the manacles off of him!” she yelled.
I felt aythar moving, from several sources, one of which was completely unexpected. Elaine was somewhere nearby, and it was her power that raised a mist, shrouding the street and limiting our vision to no more than five or six feet.
The other sources were more frightening. Tyrion was moving, and I felt him using his power to stop the bleeding within his body. His action was impressive, for he was using regular wizardry to stop several major arteries from causing him to bleed to death. He was still fatally wounded, but he had bought himself a lot more time, and he had done it while already being in a lot of pain.
Gareth, on the other hand, was a more horrifying sight as his flesh began to melt and flow. What he was doing was a mixture of ordinary magic and metamagic, as he simultaneously healed and transformed his body into something else.
I observed all that as I hurriedly tried to explain to Karen what to do. “You have to touch both manacles at the same time, here and here.” I pointed to the correct position on each manacle as I spoke. “Channel a small amount of power through those points, and when you feel it connect, say ‘Estus.’”
“What does that mean?” she asked, nervous.
“It means ‘off,’” I explained.
“Not much of a password,” she muttered.
“It isn’t meant to be,” I nearly shouted. “Just hurry up and do it.”
Several guards came out of the court building, stumbling toward us through the fog. Karen noticed them and threw up one hand, creating an impressive wall of flame.
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