A Clasp for Heirs

by Morgan Rice

  Sebastian looked as if he might say something, stopped himself, and took the pouch containing the stone from Emeline.

  “You… I don’t know what to say, Emeline. Thank you. Thank you for protecting my daughter.”

  Emeline turned to Cora. This would be the hardest of the goodbyes.

  “I just wanted to say-”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Cora said.

  “I do,” Emeline insisted. “In the time that I’ve known you-”

  “You don’t have to say anything, because I’m coming with you.”

  “What? No!” Emeline said, caught unprepared by the shock of it. How could Cora think that was the right thing to do. “You can’t.”

  “You can, so I can,” Cora said. “Or did you think I was going to let you go off alone to do this?”

  “But I have to go,” Emeline said. “I’m the one who can pretend to be Violet for long enough, but you don’t have to have a part in this. You can be safe in Monthys.”

  “I’ve already lost the man I loved,” Cora said, tears in her eyes. “I’m not going to lose my closest friend as well.”

  “But if you come with me-” Emeline began.

  “Then I can help you,” Cora said. “We’ve escaped plenty of things together before, so why not this? You’re shining like a beacon, right? So we use that to lead them away, and then we turn it off. We disappear into some woods or something, and we make our way to Monthys, or Ishjemme, or somewhere else that’s safe.”

  Emeline appreciated the offer more than she could say, but she also knew that if she agreed to it, Cora would be in more danger than she needed to be. Emeline could do all the things that Cora had just suggested without her friend having to be there. That way, the only person who would be in danger would be her.

  “Cora, I-”

  “Just remember what you told Sebastian,” Cora said. “This beacon of yours is already there for the Master of Crows to see. Every moment you spend arguing with me is a moment where he could be getting closer.”

  Emeline tried to think of a good argument to counter that, and swore when she couldn’t.

  “All right,” she said. “All right, we’ll do this together. You’re going to have to give the baby back to her father then, Cora. Keep her basket though, and cover it. That way, if a crow looks down, it will still fool its master.”

  Cora nodded, and gingerly reached out, holding Violet out to Sebastian.

  “I’m going to miss you, little princess,” she said. “You be a good girl for your father. I know he will protect you no matter what happens.”

  It sounded too much like a final goodbye to Emeline. Even though they were both talking about coming back afterwards, they both knew what this might mean. Having the whole of the New Army chasing them was not a scenario that they could guarantee turning out well.

  Emeline waited for Cora to finish handing over Violet, then nodded her own goodbye to Sebastian.

  “This is it,” she said.

  “Good luck, both of you,” Sebastian replied. “And thank you. Thank you for more than I can say.”

  Emeline wished that there was more time. She wished that they had an opportunity to say goodbye properly, or think of a better plan, but there was no time. The New Army was coming.

  Heeling her and Cora’s horse into a run to one side of the road, she set out to draw it to them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  The Master of Crows leaned low over the head of his horse as he forced it to gallop forward, not caring if it meant the creature’s death from exhaustion. He didn’t care about the men who followed him on their own horses either. All things died. All that mattered now was finding the child.

  The horse he rode was a large black thing that seemed half terrified by the Master of Crows’ presence on his back, although maybe at least a part of that was due to the crows that perched on it, their claws digging into its flesh. That just made the beast run faster though, its hooves sounding out a staccato rhythm on the forest path beneath.

  “I want them found,” the Master of Crows called out, and not for the first time. “A reward for the man who brings me the child!”

  He charged on through the forest, hoping to outpace Sebastian and the others as they ran. With a child, there was only so fast that they would be able to move, while he was prepared to ride horses to death and push men until they were all but dropping.

  “We will find them,” he whispered to his crows. “We have to.”

  He reached out with his magic, seeing through the eyes of his pets. The trees obscured a lot, but he still saw the house set back in them, well away from the road. He stretched out his magic, searching for the bright shine of the child’s power, but there was nothing to be seen right then.

  “She is being hidden,” he muttered to himself.

  “What’s that, my lord?” a soldier not far from him asked.

  The Master of Crows was so intent upon the hunt that he even ignored the impertinence.

  “There is a farm house in this direction. I want it searched, and the inhabitants questioned. I want to know if the child was here.”

  “Yes my lord.”

  The Master of Crows thought about leaving the search to his men, but the truth was that he wanted to make sure of things. He didn’t want to leave anything else to an underling that might result in the loss of something so precious.

  He rode with them to the cottage, obviously the home of a forester and his family. The man did not come out immediately, and the Master of Crows had no time for pleasantries.

  “Set fire to it. They’ll come out soon enough,” he ordered, loud enough that anyone inside would hear.

  His men moved to obey, and quickly, a family hurried from the house: a man with a bow slung over his back, a woman, a cluster of children ranging from the very young to the nearly grown. Idly, he wondered how many of them truly understood the danger that they were in.

  “Tell me where the child is,” he asked.

  “What child?” the man called back.

  The Master of Crows flicked a finger, and one of his crows darted forward. Its claws raked at the man, drawing a cry of pain and leaving gashes down the side of his face.

  “Search the house,” he ordered. His men stormed in, the crashes as they worked saying that they were being thorough about their jobs. While they were in there, the Master of Crows gestured to another of his birds. It moved to sit on the shoulder of the oldest looking child, a girl who trembled as she tried for bravery.

  “This is very simple,” he said. “I will ask questions, and you will answer them. I will know if you lie, and if you do so, my bird will take one of your daughter’s eyes. When she has run out of eyes, we will move to the next oldest child, and so on. When you run out of children, I will move to you. Do you understand?”

  “Y-yes, my lord,” the man managed.

  “Very well,” the Master of Crows continued. “I believe that a group of individuals came this way, carrying a child. Did you see them? Think carefully before you answer.”

  The forester said nothing for several seconds. In that silence, a small voice piped up.

  “I saw them,” a young girl said. She ignored a nudge from one of her brothers. “I did. I was out playing in the trees, and I did.”

  “Tell me what you saw,” the Master of Crows said. The child was very small, although it had been a long time since he had cared enough to be able to judge exactly how old it might be. Not the youngest of them, perhaps, but young enough not to be scared,

  “I think you’re a bad person,” the little girl said.

  “Such things do not matter. Only the crows matter. Now, tell me what you saw, or I’ll have one eat your sister’s eyeball.”

  The little girl looked horrified for a moment, glancing across to her mother and father.

  “Tell me the truth, now,” the Master of Crows snapped.

  “There were people,” the little girl said in between sobs. “Just people, on horses. There were
some men, and two women, and a baby, all on horses. They rode past, and I tried waving to them, but they didn’t see me.”

  “Which way?” the Master of Crows demanded, and the girl pointed. “Thank you. As a reward, I’ll let you do something that none of the rest of your family will.” He smiled at the girl’s hopeful expression. “You get to live. Kill the rest, quickly. Then mount up.”

  For his part, he sent his attention back into his crows as the screams started. The deaths of a few peasants weren’t interesting enough to bother watching, and right then even the most exquisite execution wouldn’t have torn him from his task. He had to find the child.

  He sent his birds along the line of the road, searching as they went, his attention moving faster than any horse could run. He kept his senses wide open, looking for that giveaway brightness that marked the child’s magic. On the road ahead, he thought that he could make out riders…

  …then his attention was pulled away to the left as he caught sight of the one thing he’d been hoping he would see: pure white light, blazing so brightly that it might have been the sun. He got his crow to fly closer, and he saw two figures on horseback, a basinet between them. White light surrounded them, bright enough to obscure almost anything else as they made their way along the edge of the forest.

  He took a moment, savouring it and trying to work out where they were in relation to the place where they currently stood. As soon as he was sure that he had it, he brought his awareness back to himself, running for his horse.

  “This way!” he yelled as he ran. “Leave the family. They don’t matter anymore!”

  He reached his horse, leaping up into the saddle and kicking the beast into a run. When it wasn’t fast enough, he whipped it to try to get extra speed from it, ignoring its snorts of exertion.

  When it wasn’t making good enough time on the road, he plunged into the trees, ignoring the way that they whipped around him. He dodged and ducked them with the speed of a bird flitting through the branches, although a glance behind told him that not all of his men were being so lucky. One hit a branch with a sickening crunch, before collapsing to the ground.

  The Master of Crows continued on, a part of him tracking that bright white glow of power using the circling of his crows. He followed across ditches and small streams, his horse leaping them effortlessly while he clung to its back. He followed through tangled thickets, barely even feeling them as they tore at his skin.

  He felt his horse start to collapse from exhaustion, and leapt down with all the grace of a landing rook. He didn’t let it slow him, continuing to race on with the kind of speed that only magic could provide. If he spent some more of what he’d gained, what did it matter so long as he gained the child at the end of it?

  He ran to the edge of the forest, to the spot where he should have intercepted the riders with their burden. He looked around for the white hot glow of power, wanting to be sure that he had found the right spot.

  It winked out as surely as a blown candle.

  “No,” the Master of Crows said as he saw the bassinet abandoned in the road, so casually that it could never have contained a child. “No!”

  He’d been tricked. He’d been lured into going this way. He’d been slowed down to buy others time to escape. But there was one advantage to that: if the ones here had been working to protect the child, then they must know where it was.

  “There are people nearby who did this!” he shrieked as his soldiers started to arrive. “Find them! Find them and bring them to me!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Sebastian hated leaving Cora and Emeline behind. In any other situation, he would have stopped them from doing it; he wouldn’t have let them sacrifice themselves like this. More than enough people had died for him already. Hans, Will, even Asha…

  Only the presence of Violet in his arms prevented him from turning back to try to save his friends. He couldn’t risk his daughter; he had to protect her. Besides, he told himself, Emeline’s plan relied on distance between her and Violet, so that when she turned off her false aura of power, the Master of Crows would not just be able to track them through Violet. Staying away from them actually kept them safer.

  Sebastian tried to tell himself that, but it was hard to truly believe it.

  “We’re almost there, Your Majesty,” Edmore said. Sebastian could see that the man was sweating. It was obviously an effort for him to block out the Master of Crows. It made the way Emeline had done it all the more impressive.

  “Once we’re in the inn, we’ll be able to rest,” Sebastian reassured him. He could see Valins looking around warily. “We’ll be safe.”

  “Will we?” the soldier asked. “The whole of the New Army is coming. Will the few of us be able to stay safe against that?”

  “At Monthys we will,” Sebastian said. He had to believe it. He had to believe that there would be somewhere that was safe.

  They continued their ride to the inn, and the closer they got to it, the more worrying it looked to Sebastian. The place was obviously uncared for, with ivy climbing up the walls disguising holes in them, and a yard before it whose cobbles were almost worn through. If there hadn’t been people there around the courtyard, Sebastian might have believed the place to be abandoned.

  A track led from it down in the direction of a river perhaps a mile distant, and on the water there, Sebastian could see drab boats and barges, punctuated by the occasional flash of color.

  “We could make for the river and take a boat,” Valin suggested.

  Sebastian nodded, maybe that would be a good idea. The rivers would connect to others, and might get them anywhere, from Monthys all the way to the coast.

  “We’ll decide tomorrow,” he said. “For now, we need to stop. It’s starting to get dark, and I don’t want to be outside with Violet.”

  The need to keep Violet safe made everything else secondary. No matter how odd this place felt to Sebastian, they had to stop here, so he rode in with her and the others, one hand holding her, the other resting on his sword.

  The people in the coaching yard stared in silence as they came into it. The look wasn’t unfriendly, exactly, more uncomprehending, as if they couldn’t understand why any stranger would dare to come to their inn.

  “Is there stabling for the horses?” Sebastian called out.

  No one moved to help, so he dismounted and led the horse around to a hitching post.

  “I’ll see to them and join you inside,” Valin said.

  “Thanks,” Sebastian replied. “I’ll try to find us rooms.”

  He went in with Violet in his arms and Edmore by his side. As they entered the inn, it fell so completely silent that it was impossible not to see the eyes upon him from every corner. There were men and women there, some in brightly colored clothes, some in dull grey that reminded Sebastian a little of a priest’s robes.

  The interior of the inn was an odd place. The ceilings were low and cramped feeling, with the only light provided by tallow candles hanging in sconces and a fire burning halfheartedly in a grate. The result was a dim orange light that only made the people around the inn look shiftier and more dangerous. Sebastian found himself wondering what would happen if he announced who he was, and decided that he didn’t want to know. He pulled his cloak around himself and his daughter, keeping his face turned from the light to make it harder for anyone to recognize him.

  “Oh, you don’t have to bundle the little one up like that,” a woman behind the bar said. She was a round woman in her forties, with elaborate earrings in both ears and a curling tattoo on one side of her face. “They’ll be warm enough with the warmth of the fire. I’m Kasai. Me and my husband, this is our inn.”

  “My friends and I are passing through,” Sebastian said. “We were hoping for food and rooms for the night. We’re on our way to-”

  “I find it’s best not to tell people where you’re going or why you’re out here,” Kasai said. “One of the rules of my inn: you don’t tell people which side you�
�re on, or which one you ran from.”

  “You think I’m a deserter?” Sebastian said, caught by surprise.

  “Oh, my boy, I think all kinds of things about you, but none of it’s important. So long as you stick to the rules, there are no problems here. You mind your own business. You don’t bring up your side, or your cause, or what you think is right or legal. You don’t pick fights with my patrons. You pay for your drinks. Do all that, and everything’s fine.”

  Sebastian nodded. “We’ll need rooms. There are three of us, plus my daughter.”

  “There’s a crib in one of the cupboards,” Kasai said. “I’ll put it in the top room for you. I’ll bring her some goat’s milk and you can put her down to sleep there while you have something to eat.”

  A part of Sebastian didn’t like the idea of leaving his daughter alone, and the innkeeper must have noticed it.

  “It’s all right. I’ll have one of the girls watch her. She’ll call out if anything happens.”

  “There’s no need,” Valin said. “I’ll watch her while you eat, then you come up to watch her while I do.”

  Sebastian nodded. It wasn’t ideal, but the truth was that he and the others all needed to rest. Kasai showed him to a room that was at the very top of the inn, where patches of the ivy covered up holes in the walls, with beds set around the edges. She brought out a crib, which was, in truth, just a basket on a stand. Valin took Violet, with surprising gentleness for a former soldier. He and Edmore settled down at a table, eating stew from a great pot that at least made it unlikely that anyone was going to try to poison them. Kasai brought wine, and Sebastian drank sparingly.

  Once he’d eaten, Sebastian headed upstairs. Edmore made to go with him, but Sebastian shook his head.

  “You and Valin enjoy yourself for a while. I’ll look after my daughter.”

  He said that partly because he knew that the man needed as much time to recuperate as possible, and partly because Sebastian wanted at least a little time alone with his daughter on this journey. He went upstairs and nodded to Valin, who was sitting by the crib Kasai had found.