For the first time, Cole began to feel as though their mission might not be impossible after all. It was something they had needed to work towards, of course, but there had always been a small part of himself that doubted it could be achieved. Some of the obstacles had just loomed too large in his mind, but now one of them was being negotiated with no difficulty at all. That feeling came to an abrupt end.
“Hold!” The shout rang through the air just as he emerged through the inner arch of the gateway. “Hold there I say!”
Startled, Cole brought his mount to a stop. Raven had evidently either not heard the cry, or did not realise that it was directed at them, as the carriage continued to trundle along the street behind her. Cole looked round, and saw a guardsman in shining armour marching towards him. The red plume in his helmet seemed to mark him as an officer of some kind, as Cole had not noticed such on the soldiers standing by the outer arch.
The guard reached him, and stared up at Cole. The man’s eyes took in his face, his shabby clothes and finally came to rest on the wooden shield he still carried. “From where do you hail, soldier?” The guard’s words came out with clipped precision.
“Blackridge,” answered Cole, his heart pounding against his ribcage. “Sir!” he blurted as an afterthought.
The guard nodded. “I thought as much,” he said finally. “I’m from the mining country myself. My cousin serves with the town watch.” He gave Cole’s attire another critical glance. “I see you do not wear their uniform.”
Cole forced a smile onto his face, hoping that it would not betray the terror that gripped his stomach. “We don’t belong to the watch, sir. My friend and I were caravan guards just arrived at Blackridge, when Lady Talgarth hired us to be her escort.”
“Did she now?” The guard stroked his chin. “No doubt all the calls for levies have left the watch undermanned. Not that it’s particularly well-stocked at the best of times. God’s teeth, I swear I even saw Hastings riding with her. I thought the old bastard died years ago.”
“I’m not entirely sure he didn’t,” Cole replied, with a sickly grin.
The guard chuckled. “If she hired you, then I doubt she’s paying you much. You won’t afford any of the uptown brothels on a pittance, if that’s what you’re thinking. I know well what goes through a young lad’s mind once he reaches the big city.”
“As a matter of fact, sir, she isn’t paying us at all.”
The guard stared at him, then roared with laughter. “That sounds like the old buzzard, right enough,” he said. “No doubt she’s promised the viscount will find something for you now that you’re here. I wouldn’t hold your breath, lad, that well ran dry a long time ago.”
Cole made an act of appearing crestfallen. “Perhaps you could tell me where the cheapest...um, places to go... are in that case, sir.”
“Head to the port, lad. There’s doxies there that will spread their legs for less than the price of a mug of gut-rot gin.” The guard jerked a thumb in the direction the carriage had disappeared. “You’d better go make sure your mistress gets where she’s going. Look after her, she’s not a bad old bird. Tight as a nun’s chuff, of course, but her heart is in the right place.”
“Yes sir, thank you sir.” Cole tugged at the lip of his hood, and pressed his heels into the sides of his mount. He did so rather too hurriedly, and it took off faster than he expected, nearly pitching him head-first onto the cobblestones. Feeling rather shame-faced, he got the beast under control as best he could and trotted off after Raven.
His companion was waiting for him a short way up the street, after it had bent round past a row of buildings. She had dismounted and was holding her bay horse by its reins. There was no sign of Lady Talgarth’s carriage. “There you are,” said Raven as she spied Cole. “I know you don’t know your way around the city, but I didn’t expect you to get lost within sight of the gates.”
“Sorry, I just stopped to have a friendly chat with the guards,” Cole replied, leaping down from his saddle. “Nice people.”
Raven gave him a withering look. “In all your lessons at the Crag, they never taught you the meaning of ‘incognito’ then, I take it?”
“You should be pleased,” Cole shot back, grinning. “Your little ruse worked. The captain stopped me to talk because he recognised the crest and was born in Blackridge. I can’t deny my heart stopped a couple of times, but by the end he was practically giving me a tour of the city.”
Raven shook her head bemusedly. “Well, we made it here safely, at least. Come, there’s a stable not far from here where we can leave the duke’s horses.”
“Can we afford it?” Cole asked, following Raven as she led her horse along the main street.
“If I said no, what would your plan be?” Raven smiled. “Would you ride your mount into a tavern, or up the Spire? Would you confront the Archon from horseback?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it might lend a bit more weight to my words,” Cole mused. “‘Stop your nonsense, blackguard, or else Bobbin here will nibble your cassock’. I think I’d have him eating out of my palm instantly.”
“It would almost be worth seeing that.” Raven replied. “But in answer to your original question, no, but it shouldn’t matter. At the stables of Ehrenburg you pay when you collect your steed. There’s little risk to the stable-master, as if you can’t pay he still gets a horse from it.”
“So what will we do when we need to retrieve our horses?”
Raven shrugged. “Bearing in mind our business here, it’s something we’ll either have to worry about it, or we won’t. I say we just see what our future holds.”
It made sense to Cole, who nodded thoughtfully. “What happened to Lady Talgarth?”
“Gone to her family’s townhouse,” Raven replied. “She seemed anxious to part ways as soon as possible. Perhaps she thought I’d try to get payment from her once we reached the city. She didn’t even seem particularly worried about getting back the equipment she loaned us; whether through haste to get away or guilt about receiving a free escort, I’m not certain.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? It’ll mean people think we’re part of her household, won’t they?”
Raven chewed her lip uncertainly. “Possibly,” she said. “I think we should get rid of both, though. The disguise shouldn’t be necessary in the city, and if we run into others of their house it might lead to some awkward questions.”
They reached the stable and deposited their mounts with a lanky young groom, who led them inside. Cole felt a tug of sadness as he watched the animal disappear from view, knowing it may well be the last time he would see it. It had proven to be a doughty steed, and over the past few days he had become quite attached to it. Afterwards, Raven ducked briefly down a small alley to remove her Blackridge tabard. At her suggestion, Cole hid the shield behind a pile of old sacks.
“So, was what you said to Lady Talgarth true?” Cole asked, after they had emerged from the alley. The question had been playing on his mind for much of that day. “Did your father really make a breastplate for her son?”
“He did.” A fond smile came to her lips as she remembered. “I stayed up for four nights watching him labour over it at the forge. I learned a lot of new words, most not fit for polite company. It was hard, but when it was done he seemed proud of it. When the viscount’s man came to collect it, papa wouldn’t accept any payment. I think he was just pleased to work on something so fine. He had great skill, but was rarely called upon to use it in our village.”
“Your village then... it is not far from here?”
“Far enough.” They walked in silence for a few moments. “Blackridge was the nearest big town, but I never saw it until... well, until I left. There’s nothing left there now.”
Cole felt suddenly uncomfortable. “So, now we’re here, what’s the plan? What do we do next?”
Raven stopped, eyeing the streets around them. They were walking along a row of houses; built from stone but small, with no obvious outward sign of w
ealth. There were a couple of shops: a chandlery and tailor-shop. On the corner was a larger building, from which the sound of bawdy laughter and raised voices drifted. Raven seemed to reach a decision. “I don’t know about you,” she said. “But I could really use a drink.”
It had been hard to discern from the street, but when they pushed open the heavy tavern door, any concerns that Cole may have had regarding his safety disappeared. What had sounded like rowdiness was in fact, when standing upon the establishment’s threshold, mere good spirits. Everywhere that he looked, Cole saw people laughing and talking companionably in large groups. The place was packed almost to the rafters, and yet even the landlord, who might have been expected to appear harried by the sheer volume of patrons, went about his business with a broad smile on his face.
“Well, this is pleasant,” Cole said, as they picked their way through the revelry. Surprisingly, they found a free table in a dim corner. Cole stood by it while Raven disappeared through the throng in the direction of the bar. Table was a rather grand description for the surface he found himself leaning upon, Cole reflected. In reality it was little more than a barrel stood on its end with a flat lid, but at least it offered some protection against jostling backs and elbows, as good-humoured as any such contact was received by those around him.
While he waited for Raven to return, Cole glanced around the room again, taking in more detail this time. To the untrained eye, it would appear as if all was well, yet before long he felt the prickle of hairs standing up on the nape of his neck. He saw one man tread heavily upon the toes of another, and another barge accidentally into a stranger to send the man’s drink flying across his jacket in a splash of foam. In both cases, the injured party merely smiled and laughed off the incident before resuming their conversations. At a bench nearby, four men sat playing cards. As he watched, one of them lost a large pile of coins, and guffawed as he pushed them across the tabletop to his opponent. Nobody is that happy, he thought.
A moment later, Raven reappeared with two flagons, which she placed down on the barrel lid. Cole could tell immediately that something was bothering her, and wondered if she had noticed the strange atmosphere as well.
“Seems like there’s a fun crowd in today,” he said, before quaffing a mouthful of the watery ale.
Raven glanced surreptitiously around the room. “Does it remind you of anywhere?”
Cole knew the answer. “Faerloren,” he said. “The tavern there in particular. People here aren’t as... run-down as the villagers we found in the Spiritwood, but their manner is similar.”
“Give them half a century of isolation and their appearance would likely be just as similar,” Raven replied. “Drink up, I do not think we should tarry here.”
Cole took another draught of ale. Then, as he wiped the foam from his lip, he felt a curious trembling sensation at his waist. “Grume?” he whispered. “Are you all right?” He glanced around, but nobody seemed to be paying him attention, so he risked lifting the flap of the boggit’s pouch a fraction. Inside, the little creature’s eyes were wide, the hair on his head standing to attention as if in shock. “Just like in Strathearn,” he told Raven. “I think we can take a guess as to what’s behind the unusual good cheer.” This time, when Cole looked around the tavern, he saw that everyone wore at least one item of jewellery; necklaces, bracelets, rings. Those he could see all bore a familiar green gem.
They drank as quickly as they could without raising suspicions. Even taking into account the unreal atmosphere inside the tavern, Raven seemed distracted. “What do we do now?” he asked, hoping to break her silence.
Raven blinked, then focused on him. She had been staring into space, lost in her own thoughts. “There is an inn not too far from here, on the way to the Spire. We should scrape together all our remaining coin and get a room, if we can. Then, after sundown, I’ll take to the streets and learn what I can about the tower and see if a way in can be found, while you talk to people at the inn to the same end.”
“Not that I’m complaining about warming my toes beside a fire all evening while you roam around in the cold, but why not stay here?” Cole frowned. “Why would the inn be any different?”
Raven shook her head. “There are no rooms here. When I was getting the drinks, the landlord mentioned a city-wide curfew. When evening comes, the taverns will empty, but hopefully an inn will not.”
“A curfew?” Cole was alarmed. “Why?”
“I... am not sure.” Raven appeared distracted again, her fingers toying absently with her flagon. “Finish your drink,” she said, with sudden determination. “It’s getting late.”
They left the tavern just a few minutes later. Cole half-expected the crowd to try to stop them, to take them captive as the villagers of Faerloren had done. But people barely turned in their direction as they squeezed through the tightly packed bodies onto the street outside.
Raven led the way, striding purposefully past the stone buildings. Her mind was apparently still occupied by whatever was bothering her, and Cole had to jog to keep pace with her. Outside, Ehrenburg was quieter than he had expected, no doubt due to the curfew; even now, the sun was fast approaching the rooftops to their right.
The Spire was clearly visible in front of them, and Cole’s gaze wandered up its length to the gathering storm clouds above. The unearthly green glow was even more pronounced inside the city, and he feared its purpose. It was surely too much of a coincidence to be unrelated to their mission.
The inn Raven had mentioned was not far, but close enough to the tower that it seemed to loom threateningly above them. Cole shivered, and it was only in part due to the winter chill in the air. He could also hear the distant cries of seabirds and smell salt on the breeze; clearly they were also not a great distance from the imperial city’s harbour. He found himself remembering the guard’s advice to him at the gates, and smiled. He could not have been further from their true intent.
He stood behind Raven while she spoke to the innkeeper. Whatever price they agreed for a small room for the night was apparently within their meagre budget, as the handful of copper Raven pressed into his palm seemed to satisfy him.
“Stay here tonight, Cole,” she told him once the transaction was concluded. She handed him a small iron key. “Try not to be too conspicuous, but listen to what people are saying. Subtly try to steer conversation towards the Order and their tower to see if anyone knows anything of interest to us.” She removed her pack and left it by his feet. Obviously, whatever her plans were they did not involve staying away for long.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I will investigate the tower itself and try to think of a way we can gain entrance to it and reach the top unmolested. Whatever the Archon has planned, my guess is it will take place there.”
“When will you return?”
“When I can.” Raven suddenly pulled him into an embrace, and he was too surprised to react. “Listen... Cole,” she murmured in his ear. “If... anything happens, do what you can to stop him. I have faith that you’ll make the right decision when the time comes. I believe in you.” She kissed his cheek. Then, with that, she swept from the inn and disappeared into the fading light.
Cole stood rubbing his face foolishly for a few moments, his eyes on the door. Slowly, he came to himself and ventured into the inn’s common room. He had been right about the fire; at the far end the hearth was burning merrily. While not large, the room was still a good size. Half a dozen benches sat upon a clean stone floor, but only one was occupied. A solitary patron sat with their back to Cole, huddled over their drink. Despite the warmth from the fire, they wore a cloak with the hood pulled up to hide their features. Whoever it was clearly valued their privacy, and Cole didn’t fancy his chances of striking up a worthwhile conversation.
He wondered why it was so empty compared to the tavern. Perhaps it would fill up in the next hour as evening approached and other establishments emptied by order of the emperor.
Whatever the c
ase, it didn’t appear as if he could act on Raven’s instructions just yet, so he approached the fire. He glanced at the lone stranger out of the corner of one eye as he passed, but just as he suspected was unable to see his face beneath the hood.
Cole settled himself in a chair before the hearth, and stared into the crackling flames. The seat was wooden and hard, but after days in the saddle it was a relief to be sitting on something that wasn’t moving. Idly, he wondered whether he should order a drink and try to somehow get talking to the room’s only other occupant, when the decision was made for him.
“Cole?”
He swivelled in his chair. The stranger was looking in his direction. As he watched, thin hands pulled back his hood to reveal a familiar face. One he had thought long dead. “Cas?” He jumped from the seat and hurried to the bench. He clasped his friend’s hand, grinning. “I don’t believe it, it is you! What are you doing here? I had thought that everyone...” The smile faded from his face. “Are there others? Did more survive?”
Caspian’s eyes fell to the tabletop. “No, just me.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but lapsed into silence.
Cole sat opposite his old friend, and patted his shoulder. “I understand,” he said gently. “If you survived that night then I understand what might bring you here, but how?” He thought about his own journey. “You can’t have travelled all the way across the Empire by yourself.”
“I had some help,” Caspian met his eyes again. “An acquaintance of yours, actually.”
Cole’s face was blank for a few moments, then realisation dawned. He grinned again. “Captain Brandt found you? I wonder which one of you was more surprised.”
“Definitely me.” Caspian shuddered at the memory.
“I had an inkling the captain might want to confirm my tale, he seemed the curious sort,” Cole mused. “But however did you convince him to sail so far from home?”
Dawn of the Dreamsmith (The Raven's Tale Book 1) Page 63
