The one behind him laughed. “He’s the prince!” he shouted and almost fell over guffawing.
Lord Vincent hustled Brocade Coat to the side. “Give way, man!”
“Not our fault your woman couldn’t stand you,” Brocade Coat said. He probably thought it was a mumble, but it came to Katya’s ears as clear as glass.
Katya’s fingers closed over Reinholt’s arm just as Reinholt called, “Kill the slanderous dog!” He drew his sword.
Katya hauled back on his arm and used the momentum to launch herself forward, but Lord Vincent moved almost as fast as a Fiend. He drew his blade and ran Brocade Coat through the heart.
Time seemed to slow. Brocade Coat toppled as Vincent whipped his sword back. The other drunk knelt and entreated his friend to rise. Reinholt had gone wide-eyed and pale.
“You killed him!” the man on the ground wailed. “You killed him.” His cries grew louder, becoming full-throated sobs.
Lord Vincent looked over his shoulder, no remorse in his eyes, but a definite question. “No,” Katya said, answering his silent entreaty about whether he should kill the other man. Lord Vincent’s eyes shifted to her and then back to Reinholt.
Katya stepped in front of her brother and pulled him close. “Don’t say a damned word, Rein! By all the spirits, you will not make this worse.”
He glared at her, but he obeyed. She whirled to Lord Vincent. “Sheathe your sword.” He did so, obeying royal commands immediately. Too damned immediately.
“Katya,” Starbride said. She gestured over her shoulder and then pointed in front of them. A crowd began to gather at both ends of the street, drawn by the drunken man’s wails. Too late to cover things up, then, even if Katya wanted to, and suddenly, she didn’t want to. The days of the nobility killing whoever they liked were long gone, and more than that, she didn’t believe royalty had the right to do whatever it liked.
“You there,” Katya said, pointing into the crowd. “Fetch the city Watch.”
After one last peering glance, the messenger took off. Katya stepped close to Lord Vincent. “Escort the prince back to the palace.”
Lord Vincent stepped to Reinholt’s side. Reinholt hadn’t stopped frowning, and now his arms started to cross. “Go, Rein,” Katya said. “Please, go.”
He snapped around on his heel and left. At the end of the street, he passed Brutal among the crowd. Katya nodded after her brother, and Brutal stayed with him.
Katya tilted her face up and tapped her temple, signaling Pennynail to stay put, wherever he was. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do for them unless the crowd decided to rush them. She only wished he’d been fast enough to stop Lord Vincent somehow, but what was done was done.
The drunk on the ground was still wailing, but no one stood close enough to know what had happened. Reinholt had been removed from the situation; that was another mark on their side. The Watch was on its way to keep order, and no high and mighty champion was shouting about peasants.
“Stand back,” Katya shouted as the crowd edged forward, eager to see a dead man.
Starbride drew a pyramid. Katya nearly warned her that it wasn’t time to use a flash bomb or anything deadly, but Starbride merely held the pyramid aloft. It brightened and sent light dancing off the walls. Starbride acted as if it had nothing to do with the crowd, as if she was using it to see better, but the crowd crept back all the same.
“Give way, give way!” a group of men and women called from the end of the street, and then it filled with the dark blue uniforms of the city Watch. Unlike the king’s Guard, the Watch wore chainmail instead of polished breastplates. Katya was glad of that, less showy.
A woman stepped to the front, the stripes of a captain on the collar of her coat, above her chain shirt. She pushed her metal helmet back and smoothed dark blond strands of hair away from her face. “Is the man dead, Sergeant Rhys?”
One of her men knelt beside Brocade Coat and gently pushed the wailing drunk away so he could feel the corpse’s neck. “Dead as a coffin nail, Cap.” He rolled Brocade Coat flat and peered into the dead man’s face.
“Well, now, miss, I’m Captain Ursula Laurent.” She looked Katya in the face and paused. Starbride brought the light closer, the easier to see Katya’s features as well as the hawk and rose on her coat. “Attention!” Captain Ursula cried and stiffened just as her men did. “Truly sorry, Highness.”
Katya waved the attention away. “Do you know who this is?”
“It’s Georgie!” the drunk said. He wiped his nose and sniffled. “My own brother Georgie Appleton.”
Several of the people in the waiting crowd sucked in a breath, and even Captain Ursula seemed startled. Sergeant Rhys nodded from where he still knelt beside the corpse. “He’s Magistrate Anthony’s assistant all right, Cap.”
Katya’s stomach dropped. A magistrate’s assistant, and not just any magistrate, but a man whom Katya had heard called the champion of the poor. Now his assistant had been struck down by the champion of the crown.
“Highness,” Ursula said. Her eyes had gone from surprised to calculating, as if she wondered whether she dared draw steel if Katya refused whatever she was about to say. “Respectfully, you should come with me.”
The crowds murmured and shifted. News of who the dead man was spread so quickly it was almost visible in the air. They couldn’t know what had happened, but they’d make something up. Katya guessed someone was already flying to tell Magistrate Anthony.
“Captain,” Katya said. “I think coming with you is a wonderful idea.”
Ursula let out a breath before she snapped off a salute. Katya took a firm grip on Starbride’s arm and followed in Captain Ursula’s hurried footsteps. Averie and Dawnmother stayed close, still silent, though Katya imagined they were as tense as she was.
Some of Ursula’s squad surrounded them. Sergeant Rhys and another officer stayed with the body and with the witness. At a wave from Ursula, the rest strode toward the nearest Watch house and bellowed for the crowd to give way. In the light of the pyramid, the faces in the crowd seemed angry, grimacing like faces in a nightmare, but they obeyed Ursula’s thundering presence, though how long that would last, Katya couldn’t say.
Chapter Twelve: Starbride
Starbride clamped her lips together to keep from shouting, “Katya didn’t do it!” The city Watch clearly thought she did. No doubt the crowd did, too. Katya’s jaw clenched so tightly her tendons stood out. She’d take the blame for Reinholt no matter what the surviving drunk said. If he was led to a conclusion by the Watch, the drunk could suddenly “remember” anything.
Starbride wouldn’t stand for it. She’d shout the truth to the rooftops, no matter what the Umbriels wanted. She wouldn’t let them sacrifice Katya, wouldn’t let Katya sacrifice herself for the sake of the spoiled brat Reinholt.
Another glance at Katya’s stony face told her it wouldn’t be easy. Katya was tied up in obligation, in responsibility, something Reinholt didn’t understand. She would put duty first, and Starbride had agreed to be part of that duty, part of the Order. Could she turn her back on everything Katya believed in?
Yes, she told herself. She’d break her oath for Katya. Starbride swore at that moment that she’d do whatever it took—including kidnapping—to make sure Katya didn’t take responsibility for this crime. She wouldn’t see Katya imprisoned or, Horsestrong forbid it, hanged.
Captain Ursula led them into a cramped Watch house and through to an even smaller office, all polite bows and offers of whatever meager repast the house could provide. Averie and Dawnmother were left to wait in the hallway, right outside the office door.
Ursula smiled, but it didn’t have friendliness behind it. Katya returned Ursula’s stares with half-lidded looks, neither of them giving anything away, content to sit in silence until Starbride wanted to scream.
“They’ll be bringing in the drunk,” Ursula said.
“To tell his side of the story,” Katya replied without skipping a beat.
&nbs
p; Starbride nearly smiled. If this woman thought to intimidate Katya, she might as well try to frighten the wall.
Ursula did smile, a slow look that had seen it all. She took her helmet off, smoothed out her rumpled hair, and rested the helmet on a battered wooden desk. “Good time for you to tell me what happened, Highness.”
Not, your side of the story, but what happened, implying that whatever Katya spoke would be the truth. Starbride crossed her arms. Flattery was another interesting tactic, but it also wouldn’t work.
Katya shrugged, more of her bored princess persona. She could walk from the office whenever she wished. She was buying time for Reinholt to reach the safety of the palace walls, damn him.
“The light was very bad,” Katya said.
Not so bad that they couldn’t have seen Reinholt command the death of a citizen of Farraday. Captain Ursula’s door opened, and Sergeant Rhys poked his head inside.
Ursula leaned toward him, and he whispered in her ear before he bowed to Katya and Starbride and ducked out of the room. Ursula smoothed her hair back so hard, it pulled her eyes wider. “Excuse me for asking, Highness, but do I have this right? The crown prince ordered the execution of a citizen?”
Katya’s bored mask didn’t slip. “I’m sure I can get you an answer from the palace.” She stood.
Starbride stood with her, her heart slowing. If the drunk could remember that much, Katya couldn’t possibly take responsibility for the death. Starbride didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Begging your pardon, Highness,” Ursula said, “but I was hoping the palace could give me an answer right now.”
Katya smiled slightly, and Starbride could tell she admired this woman. Ursula was willing to risk royal wrath if it meant getting the truth. But she couldn’t detain Katya; she didn’t have that power.
“You’ll be hearing from me,” Katya said.
Starbride bet the old Katya would have included a leer, but not even the rake Katya had been would include such a look in front of Starbride, or so she hoped. To be sure, she nudged Katya gently toward the door. Captain Ursula was forced to open it for them.
Dawnmother and Averie wore identical blank looks, perfect ladies-in-waiting ready to spring into action. Their eyes flicked toward Starbride when Ursula turned her back. Starbride nodded toward the door to the Watch house, and both ladies started that way as if to clear a path. Ursula merely bowed as she stepped aside, and the Watch officers stopped whatever they were doing and bowed as Katya passed.
Outside, the four of them hurried through the streets, Starbride barely holding her tongue as they strode through the night. Averie and Dawnmother pulled closer as if to ward off any other attacks with their very bodies, and Starbride knew Pennynail was still following them. Near the Watch house, the festival was in full swing. A mere murder couldn’t stop the party of the year, no matter who was dead. The booths were open and lively. Vendors stalked the streets and called out their wares.
Every splash of color, every runaway scent seemed obscene. Starbride kept seeing the dead man on the ground and kept hearing the cries of the drunken brother. It all seemed so senseless, and the festival saddened her; it made her think the world had already forgotten Georgie Appleton.
She knew that wasn’t the truth. Soon, she knew, everyone would know his name.
Katya didn’t stop when they reached the safety of the palace. They hadn’t noticed any crowds waiting for them in the streets, but news of Appleton’s death had to be winging through Marienne. Instead of going straight to the king and queen’s apartment with Katya, Starbride paused.
When Katya looked at her questioningly, Starbride said, “I’ll get a report from the Order and catch up with you.”
Katya frowned but nodded. “Take great care with yourself.”
Starbride wanted to say, “Because death can happen instantly?” but she couldn’t get those words out, couldn’t mock what had happened. “And you.”
Katya gave her a quick kiss before she strode away, Averie behind her.
“Stay with me, Dawn,” Starbride whispered.
“Always.”
Starbride felt some of the pressure in her chest lessen. When Crowe answered her knock on his study door, his voice tired and punctuated by coughs, Starbride almost turned around. But Crowe had been covering up the “unpleasant tasks” for the Order for too long; he was invaluably knowledgeable, not to mention that he would rather die than be left out, no matter his condition.
“Has Pennynail told you yet?” Starbride said before Crowe had risen from his couch.
His confused face answered her. Starbride related what had happened in the dark street as quickly as she could.
Crowe wiped his bloodless lips. “Appleton? Are you certain?”
“You’ve heard of him?”
“The assistant of Magistrate Anthony, the people’s magistrate, if I remember correctly. Appleton was so instrumental in the rise of the self-made magistrate that people often said they held the position together. I’d say the spirits of luck have decided to curse Reinholt personally.”
“The people were very angry.”
“Katya is telling the king and queen?”
Starbride nodded. Dawnmother walked to the small cabinet in the corner and poured two glasses of wine. Crowe gave her a wry smile as she set his before him. “Not too proud to serve a servant?” he asked.
“You would be the one to give me lessons in pride, Crowe,” Dawnmother said, though the smile she gave him was affectionate.
“I was just getting used to you calling me Mulestubborn.” A fit of coughing seized him.
Dawnmother rubbed his back and cast a glance at Starbride. They couldn’t stay long. “Pennynail should be along shortly,” Starbride said.
“I don’t need a nursemaid.”
Dawnmother shook her head and tsked. “You remind me so much of my father.”
“He was a paragon of stubbornness as well?”
“He was a good man.” Before Crowe could smile too much from the compliment, Dawnmother added, “Who worked himself to death.”
To Starbride’s surprise, Crowe simply sighed and rested a hand on his belly, on top of his wound. “We have to work quickly. I’ll send Pennynail to find out what the common people are saying and to see what he can do to bank the fires of anti-monarchial sentiment.”
“What should I do?” Starbride asked.
“I don’t know what you can do.” He tapped his chin, lost in thought, before he snapped his fingers. “You and I are both commoners. We can use that. We can remind the rich and the noble that the common people have power. The Umbriels are going to have to hold a funeral for Appleton and make significant contributions to whatever charities he and Magistrate Anthony fancied, whatever causes they championed. Now more than ever, you’ll have to be seen.”
“I’ll catch up with Katya, and we’ll see what we can do.”
*
Starbride didn’t take the secret passage to the king and queen’s quarters; she went the traditional way instead. Two guards had been stationed discreetly down the hall from the royal apartment, but by their wary expressions, they’d heard some yelling. Past them, Averie stood right outside the king’s door.
The guards stood to attention as Starbride approached. “I’m sorry Princess Consort,” one said. “They’re not to be disturbed, on order from the king.”
Starbride pointed past the guard. “I’d like a word with the princess’s lady-in-waiting, please.”
The guard sighed, as if relieved she’d not yelled at him. Averie hurried down the hall and then walked with Starbride and Dawnmother a few steps away from the guards.
“How’s it going?” Starbride whispered.
“They’re all in there now, except for Lord Vincent. From what I could gather, the king isn’t holding the champion responsible.”
Starbride would have loved to place some blame on the champion’s shoulders, but Reinholt was the one at fault. She told Averie what Crowe had said they
should do.
“No doubt Katya will agree with him,” Averie said.
Starbride had to admire Averie’s calm. If forced to just wait in a hallway, she would have been wringing her hands; she felt like wringing them now. “I could go out again with Dawnmother and see if we can pick up the general mood.”
Averie’s face went very still, diplomatically so. “With respect, you should leave it to Pennynail.”
“I can go where Pennynail can’t.”
It was true, and Averie’s expression said they both knew it. Averie didn’t know Pennynail’s identity, but unless he was a courtier or a noble, he would be barred from places where Starbride would have easy entry, private clubs or expensive taverns.
“We shouldn’t be making decisions without Katya.”
“I’ll go with an escort. Pennynail from the shadows when he isn’t lurking in dens of ill repute and Dawnmother the entire time.”
“Don’t be ostentatious,” Averie said, her eyes far away, and her mind obviously working. “Something fine but sensible. And you should have one more guard.”
“I know just the one.” Starbride strode away. It felt so good to have a course of action, no matter that the course was a little dangerous. Anything was better than waiting around the damned palace. She was getting used to adventure, but she had to be cautious lest it swallow her whole.
*
Hugo was more than happy to join them, just as Starbride thought; he made an excellent guard. No one would question a lordly escort, and Hugo had proven himself a capable fighter.
Starbride replaced the gown she’d worn for the opening of the festival, opting instead for one of her finer Allusian outfits, deep red trousers, and shirt with a cherry-colored bodice embroidered in gold. She left the consort’s cuff behind and wore rubies instead of diamonds. A wine colored cloak hid her from neck to toe.
Dawnmother walked at Starbride’s side, so close they occasionally bumped into each other. She didn’t see Pennynail, but she wouldn’t until she needed him.
For Want of a Fiend Page 9
