“Princess, I thought not to trouble you with such a mundane thing as moving the prisoner.”
“You might not think I have an interest in that, Magistrate, but where my husband goes, so go I.”
Mably’s red eyes all but bugged from his mask. “What?”
Even Crow’s head came up. “Princess, don’t.” He clearly wanted to offer more of a protest, but lacked the energy. He’d been set in the saddle and tied there; his wrists were also heavily bound. A threadbare grey blanket had been thrown over him, but fell only to mid-thigh, letting everyone see his bare, bruised legs.
Mably raised his head. “You claim this man is your husband?”
Alexia nodded. “He is.”
“She’s lying.”
Mably smiled. “He denies it, Princess.”
“He’s delirious, and no wonder, after the treatment he’s had at your hands.” Alexia smiled warmly. “As well you know, Oriosan custom does allow a wife to travel with her husband while he is being taken for judgment.”
“Judgment has been rendered, he is bound for punishment. The custom does not apply.” Mably snorted. “Besides, he denies you are married.”
“And you have maintained he is Hawkins, the Traitor, who is a notorious liar, so how can you believe him?” She held up her left hand and thumbed a gold ring around her fourth finger. “We are wedded. We were wedded in a ceremony in Kedyn’s Temple at Fortress Draconis. Prince Erlestoke was a witness.”
Crow growled. “Mably, you are not so much a fool as to believe this, are you?”
“Hush, beloved.” The princess looked from Crow back up to Mably. “Look at his hand, Magistrate; you’ll see his ring. Even the most simple of magickers could tell you our rings are linked as they should be after such a ceremony.”
The bureaucrat snarled. “He had no ring when we took him into custody.”
“Your search of his person failed to find it.”
“You had no ring on last night.”
“You simply failed to see it.” Alyx snorted. “A consequence of being blind drunk, it would seem.”
Mably shook his head once, hard, then hissed in pain. “Princess, you know the only magicker worth the name here in Tolsin is Adept Reese, and I would trust what he says about those rings. You are lying.”
“She’s not lying.”
Alexia turned and saw a slender, dark-haired woman emerge from the crowd. Anger flashed through her, and above the gate Perrine’s wings unfurled. That is Sephi, the woman who betrayed Crow to Scrainwood. What is her game?
Mably’s head came up. “What are you prattling on about, girl?”
Sephi’s eyes blazed. “I said she is not lying. They are wed.”
“More nonsense.”
“Is it?” Sephi’s voice took on an edge. “You know well who I am, Call Mably. I am the king’s eyes and ears. I was sent here to confirm the Traitor’s identity. I know all about him, and I know they are wed.”
The magistrate shifted his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Magistrate, you are only meant to know that which the king wishes you to know. Are you smarter than he is? The king’s answer to that question would differ from yours, I am certain.” Sephi shook her head. “I reveal this knowledge to prevent you from doing something stupid, like parading a Prince of Okrannel through Oriosa naked. I will not have you embarrassing our nation.”
The magistrate slumped in his saddle. “This is not right. There was no ring on his finger.”
“That’s because the princess is lying.”
“Shut up!” Mably’s shout silenced Crow, but clearly cost him mightily. He breathed hard for several seconds, then glared down at Alexia. “This is trickery, I know it. I will not be made a fool.”
The princess stepped back and opened her hands. “If you choose to call me a liar, I will demand satisfaction of you. You may choose between that and believing the king’s spy here and letting me accompany my husband to Meredo.”
“Just you, Princess.”
“Of course, just me. And my bodyguards.”
Mably groaned.
Alyx smiled. “You know they will be there regardless, Magistrate. Do not fight a battle you cannot win.”
“This is a skirmish, Princess, and one you have won.” Mably drew himself up in the saddle again. “In Meredo the battle shall be decided, and it shall not be in your favor.”
CHAPTER 7
T he group rode from Tolsin at noon and Alyx was pleased at how well the morning’s events had worked out; though she did acknowledge that her feelings might not be shared by all. Call Mably clearly was not happy; she could feel his hot stare burning into her back. Mably rode at the head of the rear guard, having been chased there by Resolute. The Tolsin magistrate had left the town at the head of the procession but as some of the guardsmen moved out to scout along the route, Mably found himself in the middle of her group and beat a hasty retreat.
It did not help Mably at all that the guardsmen had seen him faced down by Sephi. This left him weak enough that the guards seemed to tolerate him instead of look to him for direction. The further from Tolsin he got, the less power he wielded and Resolute stepped forward to fill that void.
Resolute’s de facto assumption of leadership further discomfited Mably. The Vorquelf, with Dranae as his lieutenant, dispatched scouts and otherwise organized the guardsmen’s rotations. Only one of the Tolsin guardsmen offered resistance to Resolute’s orders—until Will quipped that defying Resolute was stupid, and that stupid people often break their legs in horrible accidents. The guardsman quickly acquiesced and found that Resolute actually knew what he was about.
Alexia would have been quite happy about events had Crow not worn so dour an expression. “Crow, you cannot actually think I was going to allow them to haul you off, can you? Do you think you would have made it all the way to Meredo?”
Crow frowned heavily. “Chances are I’d have made it a mile closer to the capital than Mably, but that’s not important. I didn’t want you caught up in what will happen to me. I asked you not to do this.”
He held up his left hand and thumbed the gold ring on his finger. “Kerrigan fashioned the rings, I take it, the way he was able to fashion the duplicate of the fragment?”
“He had to borrow the rings from the innkeeper and his wife to get the right sense of them, but yes.”
The white-haired man shook his head. “And then Will stole into the tavern and slipped it on my finger.”
Alyx nodded. “I was not there. I was serving to distract Mably and a few others. It all went off very easily.”
“Unless you had your leg broken.”
“I understand he was kicking you.”
Crow shrugged. “It didn’t hurt. He kicked like a girl.”
Her violet eyes opened wide. “If I kicked you, you’d not say that.”
“Like as not.” He glanced over at her, the flesh surrounding his left eye a sickly yellow with purple streaks. “But the fact is, you have kicked me. By doing this.”
“Crow, you’re not saying that being rescued has hurt your vanity!” Alyx threw her head back and laughed. “If that’s what you’re saying, you’ve been beaten more soundly in the head than I imagined.”
Crow raised himself, straightening his spine proudly. It was not easy for him to do, but the only hint of the difficulty came as the flesh around his eyes tightened. “You do know me better than that, Princess. I wanted you to walk away. I wanted to keep you safe from what will happen to me. I’ve been prepared for years for this, but you were taken by surprise. My doom is of my own making, and you shouldn’t be caught up in it.”
“You wanted to keep me safe. Why is that?”
“Because you are important. The world is depending upon you.”
She leaned forward, resting both hands on the saddlehorn. “If that were it, you’d have insisted I never go into combat.”
Crow sighed. “Combat is different. What will come is not something you’ve trai
ned for. And there is more. You are a friend. I also told Resolute to walk away when this happened.”
Alyx narrowed her eyes. “How is it, Crow, that you can be loyal to your friends—that you can ride into combat with them and save their lives, that you can endure decades of shame searching for the one person who will rescue a world that has condemned you—and yet fail to understand why your friends would stand beside you? Do we seem that shallow to you?”
He raised a hand and the sleeve of his leather jerkin fell enough that she could see the bruises the manacles had left. “No, no, it’s not that at all. I just . . .” He swallowed hard and glanced away, catching his lower lip between his teeth. He started to speak again, then blew the words from his tongue in a huff of air.
She reached out and laid a gentle hand on his left shoulder. “Crow, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not, Princess.” He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ve known, from the moment they stripped my mask from me, that I was doing the right thing. Even so, when they took my mask—when they had my father strip my mask from me, it crushed me. I felt as if my face had been clawed bare of flesh. I had always sought to be worthy of wearing a mask, and here I had been stripped of it. Tarrant Hawkins was dead.
“After that, for the next few months anyway, I don’t remember much. I drank to oblivion, but always woke barefaced. I would have lost myself in the pleasures of the flesh, but no one would have me. I was turned out of inns. I was battered and beaten, spat upon, tossed into cesspits and sewers. Had I been on fire, people would have pissed on me, but only so I could suffer with the burns.”
His voice came barely above a whisper. A shiver ran through him as he spoke. Alexia felt it through her hand and thought her touch an invasion, but she could not bear to take her hand away. She really wanted to rub her hand over his shoulder, along his back, but refrained by reminding herself of his bruises.
The desire to comfort him confused her. Anyone else she’d have clapped on the shoulder and told to bear up. Among the Gyrkyme confession of this sort was unknown. There were so few of them, and they all lived in a small area, that everyone simply knew all there was to know. While the Gyrkyme held confidences sacred, secrets became news and spread swiftly. Sins were not hidden and were easily forgiven. Since coming into the wider world she had, on occasion, had comrades who felt the need to unburden themselves, and she listened for as long as seemed polite before escaping.
This was different, however. The pain in his voice slowly slid into her, tightening her stomach. His words defined a burden he had carried for as long as she had been alive, and she wished she could do something to help lift it from him.
In that regard, squeezing his shoulder seemed a wholly inadequate effort.
Crow continued speaking, his eyes focusing on the road. “Resolute had been north, scouting Boragul for any signs of Chytrine. How he found me, I’m not certain, but he took me out of Yslin, away from men, and into the mountains near Gyrvirgul. Why he put up with me, I don’t know. I did nothing but sleep or cry, and hated doing both. He just sat with me, silent when I needed, bracing when I needed, and often speaking of the future, which I needed most of all.”
Alyx squeezed his shoulder again. “Resolute is your friend.”
Crow nodded. “Yes, and a better friend than I had ever known. He built me back up. He created Kedyn’s Crow—citing some elven prophecy which I think he made up. But mostly he reminded me that I’d pledged that Vorquellyn would be redeemed in my lifetime. I resisted that idea for a bit, but eventually it took. I still knew, though, that this day would come, and I made him promise to walk away when it did.”
“How could he if you’re going to redeem Vorquellyn?”
“I just said it would be redeemed in my lifetime. The sooner I die, the sooner it’s done.”
Alyx shot him a sidelong glance. “I suspect Resolute doesn’t quite see it that way.”
“He only sees things his way.” Crow’s head came up and he glanced at where Resolute rode well ahead of him. “Resolute Faithbreaker!”
The Vorquelf half turned, cupped a hand to a pointed ear, then quickly pulled his hand away and shrugged.
Crow growled. “He can hear a gnat breathing twenty leagues away, but is damnably deaf other times.”
“It could be, Crow, he just doesn’t think that charge worth answering.” She gave him a quick smile. “Or it could be that he feels abandoning you would be a greater breach of faith.”
He shot her a sidelong look. “He doesn’t need defending.”
“I wasn’t defending him. I was defending me and my choice.” Her eyes narrowed. “You recall refusing to promise to slay me, were I to go over to Chytrine? You told me you refused because you didn’t want to give me any possible sense of security. You didn’t want my defenses to flag so I would become susceptible to her offers. Do you remember that?”
“I do.”
“You weren’t telling me what I wanted to hear. You were telling me a truth I needed to hear. Well, here is one for you. We are your friends, and we need you with us. That might conflict with your plans, but you’ll just have to live with it.”
Crow closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He cleared his throat. “Still, couldn’t you have found another way to do this, Princess? It’s such a transparent strategy, no one will believe it.”
“They’d not believe I could succumb to your charms?”
“If I had any.” Crow smiled. “Don’t evade the point. By claiming to be married to me, you have completely destroyed your value as a dynastic marriage partner.”
“An added benefit.”
“Be serious.”
She let her hand trail down his arm before returning to her saddlehorn. “I am serious. You know that I was trained to lead armies. This was what my father wanted, and he told Preyknosery Ironwing. The Gyrkyme honored my father’s wishes, and King Augustus saw to it that I had the help and training needed. They and he know my value to the world. My grandfather and my great-grandaunt, however, do not. They see me as a brood mare to be married off to some prince to strengthen alliances so we’ll have support in taking back Okrannel. They’d put me in a bed to earn more troops, when I could lead fewer and take Okrannel myself.”
“That may be as you say, Princess, but no one will believe we are wed.”
Alyx smiled. “The Norrington and Perrine stood as witnesses to our nuptials. Prince Erlestoke was there, may the gods keep his soul.”
“Two friends and a dead man as witnesses? No one will accept their word.”
“But they will accept mine. They have to because that is the way of the nobility. To accuse me of lying has consequences.”
“But when it is shown you are, Princess . . .”
She shook her head adamantly. “You listen to me, Crow, and listen well. I know your story; I’ve known it all my life. The shame, the lies, how they painted you are all irrelevant, I’ve met you. You have saved my life; I have saved yours. We have shared a wineskin after a battle, we’ve stormed a pirate haven, and we’ve killed a sullanciri. I know that the Hawkins of legend, of infamy, is not you.”
“Yes, but . . .”
“No, Crow, no buts.” She swallowed hard as a lump rose in her throat. “I would like to think, had my father lived, he would have been there when they tried you and would have raged against the injustice. Had King Augustus not been in Okrannel, I’m certain he would have as well.”
Crow shook his head. “They would have had no choice.”
“We’ll never know, but I know Augustus and know he’d not have sanctioned such an injustice. My point, however, is simply this: the crowned heads, in order to preserve their realms, chose to destroy your life. They created a lie and used it to destroy you. You said your father stripped your mask from you. Do you think he would have done that if he knew the truth?”
The man shivered for a moment, then his voice sank low. “He knew a
truth, and that made him take my mask. He didn’t need their lie.”
She frowned, not understanding. Time for that later. “Crow, the world’s leaders are the ones who did this to you. I will not stand for it. This lie has done enough damage.”
“So you’ll fight it with another lie?” The words formed an accusation, but the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth softened it.
She nodded. “It stops your summary execution and buys us time. Many will work hard trying to talk me out of the marriage. I could trade an annulment for a pardon and we would be done with it. After all, everyone knows that Hawkins killed himself. You were just mistakenly identified as him. Remember, among the Vorquelves, the stories of Kedyn’s Crow predate the last war.”
Crow laughed. “Oh, you have this all thought out.”
“Had to. Will and Kerrigan ask the most annoying questions. Of course, as with any plan, it will come apart when we engage the enemy.” Alyx shrugged. “But we have to win, so we will.”
He looked over at her, then shook his head. “Scrainwood isn’t an imbecile, but he thought he was just picking a fight with me. He’s going to get far more than he ever bargained for.”
“He called this tune a quarter century ago, and has been dancing to it for a good long time.” Princess Alexia squeezed Crow’s shoulder again. “The time has come to pay the piper.”
CHAPTER 8
T he column of snowflakes swirled across the Aurolani landscape moving toward her as if with intelligence and intent. Isaura reached out with an ungloved hand. Long, slender fingers sheathed in flesh barely darker than the snow itself sank into the whirlwind. At her touch the snow-ghost flew apart, small flakes lighting on her long hair and gown, hidden there as completely as if they had fallen back to the snowfield beneath her feet.
The breeze that had animated that tiny cyclone spawned others that raced toward the Conservatory as if Southlands warriors mounted an assault on the building. The Conservatory had been built into the side of a mountain. The magicks the sullanciri Neskartu had used to create it had molded molten rock into towers and chambers. Even the exterior walls, having been battered by a quarter century of fierce northern storms, still retained their pristine, glassy surface.
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