The Princess in the Tower (Schooled in Magic Book 15)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “You will not have to pay for your bread and board,” the woman said. She sounded...hesitant, as if she was torn between rewarding them and the need to keep the money coming in. “And...I understand that you are heading north?”

  “We have employment near Alexis,” Jade said, stiffly. Their cover story was vague enough to be plausible, but it wouldn’t stand up to sustained questioning. They simply didn’t know enough about what was going on in the north to tell a convincing lie. “We’re expected there by the end of the week.”

  The innkeeper nodded. “There is a convoy of merchants leaving for Chatham this morning,” she said, glancing out of the window. “I believe they will allow you to accompany them, if I ask. They’re always keen to be escorted by fighting men. Would you be interested?”

  Emily glanced at Jade, then Cat. It sounded promising–no one would look twice at the guards accompanying the convoy–but it had its downsides. The merchants would draw attention...and not just from bandits. There would be inspectors who’d search the wagons and demand bribes if they found even the slightest hint of contraband. Or simply to let the merchant convoy proceed without harassment. King Randor had forbidden local tolls, but–under the circumstances–she wouldn’t be surprised to discover that everyone was throwing up roadblocks. It was a simple way to earn money, in the short term.

  And, in the long term, it will kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, she thought. Too many aristocrats seemed to believe they could squeeze and squeeze again, without repercussions. But the local economy never seemed to grow. Why would people invest when their money could be stolen on a whim? And it encourages people to cheat the system.

  “It would be a good idea, if you will vouch for us,” Jade said. It was what a mercenary would say. The prospect of getting paid while making their way north, which they would have to do anyway, was very attractive. “We would be delighted.”

  The innkeeper’s eyes rested on Emily for a long moment. Emily looked back, keeping her face as bland as possible. The innkeeper knew she wasn’t just a kept woman now. A kept woman wouldn’t risk her life to save a young girl, even if she had the nerve. Emily just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut. If the innkeeper asked any questions, Emily would have to lie...

  “Brook will show you to the convoy,” the innkeeper said, nodding to the girl. “And she’ll make the introductions.”

  “We’ll have to collect our wagon first,” Cat said, quickly. “We can’t leave that behind.”

  Brook nodded and headed for the door. Emily watched her go, wondering if the innkeeper had chosen a gender-neutral name deliberately. Brook might actually be Brooke, but Brooke was close enough to Brook for her not to miss it when she was called. There would be no confusion as she struggled to remember her name, no hesitation that might reveal she was trying to hide something...it was quite possible that the innkeeper had wanted a boy.

  Or that she wanted her daughter to be able to pass as a son, if necessary, Emily thought, as she followed the girl out of the office. No one would notice as long as they were careful.

  Brook led them into the courtyard, then hurried around the back to collect the horses and wagon. Dozens of other guests were already loading up their carts and horses before departing, trying to make as much progress as possible before night started to fall again. A handful of mercenaries waved to Jade and Cat, ignoring Emily completely. She suspected they didn’t bear any malice towards the two men. Jade and Cat might be fighting on the other side of the war, but mercenaries fought for money. They didn’t bother to hate their enemies.

  The girl reappeared, driving the wagon with practiced skill. Jade scrambled up into the back as soon as she stopped, checking to make sure everything was fine. Cat motioned for Emily to check the wheels while he inspected the horses, feeding them little treats to put them in a good mood. They looked to have been rubbed down and fed, thankfully, but they wouldn’t have enjoyed having it done by strangers. The inn simply didn’t have space for the horses to be tended by their owners.

  “It looks good,” Jade called. “Hop up!”

  Emily clambered up, then watched from the back as Jade sat down next to Brook and cracked the whip. The horses started to move forward, the wagon jerking slightly as Cat jumped into the rear. Brook pointed them down the road, her expression suddenly tighter. Emily realized that it had dawned on her, all of a sudden, that she was alone with three strangers. Being wary of strangers was a wise move anywhere. Emily didn’t blame her in the slightest.

  “Down there,” Brook said, pointing towards the town. “They’ll let you in if I speak to the guards.”

  The town didn’t look much better in the morning light, Emily noted. A faint stench of manure hung in the air as they approached, reminding her that towns were hardly the cleanest places in the world. Farmers were already bringing their wares to market: she saw an elderly man leading a line of pigs, following a younger woman who was carrying two large baskets of vegetables. The guards let them pass without bothering to do more than glance at their faces. They paid Jade and Cat a little more attention.

  Brook jumped down and spoke, briefly, to the guards. Emily couldn’t hear what she said, but it must have been convincing. The guards waved the wagon through without bothering to search it. Brook trotted alongside them, pointing down to a small cluster of carts and wagons outside a smaller inn. Emily suspected it belonged to the local merchant’s guild. It wasn’t well-placed to take advantage of people passing through the town.

  And the guards probably don’t help, she mused, as Jade pulled the wagon to a stop. Anyone who might want to stay the night gets ordered to the inn outside the walls.

  “Stay here,” Jade ordered.

  Emily glanced at Cat, then watched as Jade scrambled down and followed Brook as she walked towards the convoy. A large man wearing a set of guild robes greeted Brook, speaking to her as though she was a favored child. Emily wondered at their relationship, then decided it wasn’t too surprising. Personal relationships meant a lot in a world where contract law was largely ineffectual. Brook’s mother would have worked hard to ensure that her guests and suppliers saw her as trustworthy.

  “Only four visible guards,” Cat muttered. “That might not be a good thing.”

  “They’ll have more, perhaps,” Emily muttered back. “And the merchants themselves will have swords, won’t they?”

  “They may not know how to use them,” Cat said. “And they may be harassed merely for carrying swords.”

  Emily nodded. Freemen had the right to bear arms–it was what separated them from serfs and slaves–but they weren’t always allowed to make use of it. Proper training was almost always lacking, giving the upper classes a decisive advantage. That was going to change, she knew, as more and more gunpowder weapons entered the mainstream. A man needed years to master a sword, but only minutes to master a firearm. And then the face of warfare would change forever.

  Jade walked back to them, slowly. “We’re being allowed to accompany them as far as Chatham,” he said. “After that, we’re on our own.”

  “That’s good,” Emily said. Chatham was a merchant town, a free city upriver from the capital. She’d never been there, but she’d heard good things about it. “Chatham isn’t far from Alexis.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Jade said. “We should get some answers there before we proceed to the city itself.”

  Cat had a more practical concern. “Any rules we should know about?”

  “They don’t want us buying and selling on the way,” Jade said. His lips quirked. “What do we have to sell?”

  “Our expertise,” Cat said. “Anything else?”

  “Not really.” Jade scrambled up into the wagon and lowered his voice. “They will expect us to help with setting up camp and Emily to help with the cooking.”

  Emily nodded, unsurprised. Cooking was women’s work, as far as the vast majority of the population was concerned. Caleb had cooked for her, but he’d been in the minority. The only other men who actual
ly cooked worked in restaurants, which somehow didn’t count as female work. The logic behind the reasoning escaped her. Perhaps it had something to do with working for money instead of cooking for one’s husband.

  “I can cope.” She smiled, rather thinly. “As long as they can cope with my cooking...”

  “I told them you were an army cook with a great record,” Jade said, deadpan. “You only killed ten men.”

  “Great,” Cat said. “They won’t let you anywhere near the food.”

  “As long as they don’t expect me to sew,” Emily said. She’d never learnt to sew on Earth, a skill she’d never realized she lacked until she discovered it was useful for Subtle Magic. But it was definitely not one of her talents. “I’m not good at sewing.”

  “They won’t expect you to be.” Jade turned and jumped back down to the ground, then turned to beckon them down. “Let’s go meet our new friends.”

  Emily had seen a convoy before–Lady Barb had insisted on traveling with the Diddakoi, four years ago–but the merchant convoy was different. Men and women seemed to be almost equal, laughing and chatting together as they prepared to depart. There was something oddly healthy and warm about the scene, a bunch of people united by a common goal instead of being pushed together by fate. They seemed to be different too, from the handful of genuine merchants to the travelers who clearly believed it was better to travel in a large group. A handful of young children ran around, shouting and laughing while their older peers helped their parents. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy. Why couldn’t she have had an upbringing like that?

  Brook caught her arm. “Thank you, once again,” she said, very quietly. “I hope you get where you’re going.”

  “You’re welcome,” Emily said, automatically. “Thank your mother for us, please.”

  The younger girl eyed her for a long moment. “I’ve often wanted to run away,” she said, lowering her voice still further. “Is being a mercenary as exciting as they say?”

  Emily hesitated. She understood the urge, but...Brook had no conception of just how bad it could be in a mercenary camp. There was no way she could pretend to be a young man when privacy was completely non-existent. Someone would notice and then...and then what? If she’d won respect, her secret might be kept; if she hadn’t, someone would blab...

  “It can be,” she said, finally. “But you remember the guy who wanted to hurt you? There are a lot of men like that in mercenary camps. And if you meet one, you will be in trouble.”

  “Emily,” Jade called. “It’s time to go!”

  “Coming,” Emily called back. She looked at Brook. “Good luck with your life.”

  “Thank you,” Brook said. “And may all the gods accompany you on your way.”

  Chapter Six

  TRAVELING IN A MERCHANT CONVOY WOULD’VE been much more enjoyable had they not been concerned about getting to Alexis as fast as they could

  The merchants were surprisingly friendly, always willing to chat and share stories of life on the road. Rumors were swapped freely, then dissected for what scraps of truth could be extracted from their bodyguard of lies. The travelers were slightly less talkative, at first, but as the days wore on they shed their reluctance and started to chat as well. Emily couldn’t help feeling guilty, as life stories were shared, about the lies she was telling. She could make them convincing, but she knew they were lies. The fact that no one could call her on them didn’t make her feel any better.

  Jade had been right about her being expected to help with the cooking, although it wasn’t as bad as she had feared. The merchants ate at inns, when they could, and set up camp when they couldn’t. Their food was very basic, stews and bread rather than anything more elaborate; they caught animals and harvested plants from the local woodlands and cooked them over an open fire, seasoning the mix with a little salt or spice. Emily had learnt enough under Sergeant Miles and Lady Barb to help the older women, although she had to admit they were experts. They’d been doing it most of their lives.

  The convoy rumbled along the roads, passing through towns and villages. Some of the villages were apparently deserted, the population staying firmly out of sight; the towns were inhabited, but clearly expecting trouble at any moment. The merchant guild had a string of private inns for its travelers, yet the convoy was nearly turned away from several towns despite their credentials. It was rare to see a military-aged man or a young girl on the streets. The former had been conscripted or were hiding from the recruiting sergeants, while the latter were vulnerable to the squads of soldiers and mercenaries making their way through the countryside. Emily couldn’t help thinking that society was steadily breaking down. The number of fields that appeared to have been abandoned, crops left to rot in the morning air, was terrifying. Famine was a very real possibility, whatever else happened.

  “I heard that the king has gone mad,” Linder said, one evening. She was a young girl, a year or two younger than Emily, with strawberry-blonde hair and a strikingly sunny disposition. Her name was close enough to Lin for Emily to covertly probe her for magic, before deciding she was being silly. “And his daughter has already taken the crown.”

  “I heard the king has locked up his daughter,” an older man said. He was kneeling beside the fire. “And that he already has someone else lined up to take the crown.”

  “It can’t be his brother,” another man said. “The Duke of Iron is already mad.”

  “The former Duke,” Jade said. “He was stripped of most of his titles after the coup.”

  And the Duchy went to Alassa, Emily added, silently. Randor should have given it to his daughter years ago. Traditionally, it was where the Crown Prince learnt the ropes before taking the throne. But what’s happened to it now?

  “It doesn’t matter to us,” the older man growled. “What matters is what gets in our way. A little girl on the throne is bad news.”

  “A woman on the throne is bad news,” another man said. His wife elbowed him, hard. “See what I mean?”

  “She’s hardly a little girl,” Jade said. Emily could hear the irritation in his tone and wondered if anyone else, apart from Cat, could hear it too. “She’s a grown woman.”

  “I wouldn’t trust my daughter to handle a kingdom,” the older man said. “And even if she was smart and sensible, she would still have to handle the”–he spat–“nobles.”

  “Aye, that’s true,” a woman agreed. “How many noblemen have started raising taxes over the last few months? It’s getting to the point where we can’t run convoys through their territory without ending up in the red.”

  Emily listened as the conversation ranged back and forth, assessing everything from the latest set of rumors to what few scraps of truth had been passed up the chain. It shouldn’t have surprised her that the traveling merchants kept their ears to the ground just to see which regions were safe for convoys and which should be avoided at all costs. Their intelligence network was surprisingly good, under the circumstances, although it had its limits. They didn’t dare take anything for granted.

  She lifted her eyebrows, concerned, as Jade stood and walked away from the fire. It wasn’t like him to stamp off, no matter how displeased. She looked at Cat, who looked as though he wanted to bite his lip, then rose herself. Jade hadn’t gone far. The woods seemed safe–the trees were nowhere near thick enough to hide a small army, unlike the forests near Whitehall–but only an idiot would go too far from the light. She didn’t have any trouble following him into a smaller clearing.

  “They don’t respect her,” he said, as she stopped beside him. “Or anyone.”

  “They don’t know her,” Emily pointed out. “To them, she’s just a name and a bundle of rumors.”

  “They’re treating her as if she’s...as if she’s a whore,” Jade snarled. He kicked a stone across the clearing. “She’s their princess, not a monster.”

  “They still don’t know her,” Emily said, trying to sound reassuring. Thankfully, one of the women had pointed out that the
rumor about Alassa having a whole stable of lovers was obvious nonsense. A man could afford to tomcat around, if he wished, but a woman–even a princess–didn’t have anything like as much leeway. “They don’t even know who you are.”

  “These are the people she’s meant to rule,” Jade pointed out. “And they hate her!”

  Emily shrugged. “First, she isn’t ruling them yet, so they have no idea how she’s going to perform as their Queen. And second, they’re more concerned about policy–and her ability to affect policy–than they are with her personally. They’re not going to be concerned about who sits on the throne, Jade. They worry more about how that person will rule.”

  “So they won’t rise up for her,” Jade muttered. He knelt down, resting his hands on his knees. “They won’t fight for her.”

  “Not yet,” Emily said, with the private thought that it was unlikely that anyone would fight unless they saw a real chance at victory. A failed rebellion might be worse than not rebelling at all. “They need a reason to fight for her.”

  Jade glowered up at her. “And they don’t already have one?”

  “No,” Emily said. “And that’s something we’re going to have to change.”

  They sat together for a long moment, lost in their thoughts, then rose and made their way back towards the wagons. The debating had turned to dancing, a handful of dancers whirling their way around the fire while the older merchants played a strange collection of instruments. Emily felt wistful, wondering–again–what her life would have been like if she’d grown up in such an environment. She was tempted to go back to Cat and see if he wanted to dance, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to let her hair down that far. Besides, she suspected someone should stay with Jade.