“They may make an exception in Alassa’s case,” she said, finally. Alassa had been the Crown Princess…she still was, as far as everyone knew. She was hardly some decorative bauble of a noblewoman. Her magic alone made her dangerous to men who thought that women simply couldn’t make the hard decisions. “And they certainly will in Imaiqah’s.”
Her heart clenched again. King Randor hadn’t just arrested Alassa, if Jade’s source was correct. He’d arrested Imaiqah as well. Emily didn’t know why he’d arrested both of her best friends, but she had a very nasty idea. Paren–Imaiqah’s father–had betrayed his monarch, which meant a certain death sentence for his entire family. None of the nobility would have any qualms about arresting a common-born sorceress.
And we don’t even know if they’re still alive or not, she thought. Jade was sure that Alassa was still alive, but there was no way to be confident. Their marriage bond wasn’t as intense as Melissa and Markus’s. And there is definitely no way to be sure about Imaiqah.
“She is a noblewoman,” Cat said. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Emily sighed, inwardly. She knew that wasn’t necessarily true. She needed to have a talk with Jade and Cat, sooner rather than later, about what Paren had done. Jade wouldn’t be happy when he heard the truth, even though he liked Imaiqah. He’d accuse Emily of ignoring a time bomb that had blown up in Alassa’s face. And he wouldn’t be wrong, either.
She leaned her shoulder against the wooden railing and watched the countryside go by. A handful of scattered farmhouses and peasant hovels came briefly into view, half-hidden in the fields, but they looked deserted. Two were little more than burned-out shells, their occupants either dead or long gone. There was no sign of the sheep, pigs or chickens that most farmhouses would keep as a matter of course. She shuddered as she realized yet again that Zangaria was on the brink of war. The tensions had been rising for years, but now…now they were on the verge of exploding into violence.
No, she told herself. The violence has already started.
Emily heard snoring from behind her and smiled, despite herself. Cat had the gift of being able to sleep whenever and wherever he wanted, a gift Emily rather wished she’d managed to master. Sergeant Miles had urged her to try, but she simply hadn’t had the time. Too much had happened in the last few months for her to concentrate on developing her magic. She should be back at Whitehall…
She felt a bitter pang, mingled with the grim understanding that she’d finally outgrown the school. Whitehall would always feel like home, she thought, and maybe one day she’d be back, but she’d never be a pupil again. She had a life outside the school now. And it hadn’t been the same since Grandmaster Hasdrubal had died. Grandmaster Gordian simply wasn’t his equal. She hoped he’d keep his side of the bargain and look after Frieda. There was no way she could visit her younger friend while she was trying to rescue Alassa and Imaiqah.
At least I got a chance to say goodbye, she thought. To her and to Lady Barb.
The sun was slowly starting to set as a small town came into view. Jade guided the cart down the road, eyes flickering from side to side as he watched for signs of trouble. It wasn’t uncommon for footpads to jump carts and wagons when the drivers thought they were safe, although Emily doubted they’d mess with a pair of sellswords. Too much chance of getting killed for too little reward. And if the footpads realized they were attacking three magicians instead…
We need to keep our magic concealed, she reminded herself. The word was out. King Randor was hiring–and sometimes conscripting–every magic-user in his kingdom. Or we’ll find ourselves enlisted in his magic corps.
Her eyes narrowed as the town came closer. It was surrounded by a wooden palisade, a sign that it was a free town, but someone had been piling up earth to make it stronger. Emily didn’t think it would keep out a determined attack, let alone a magician, yet it might just deter bandits. Law and order had to be breaking down. Free or not, a town wasn’t supposed to build defenses that might actually keep the local lord from asserting his authority. The mere fact that the townspeople had managed to get away with it was worrying.
“Watch my back,” Jade muttered, as he pulled the wagon to a halt. A set of guards were walking towards them, looking nervous. Emily had seen enough fighting men to know that the guards didn’t have any real training at all. Their weapons were probably more dangerous to their wielders than the enemy. “Cat, get up!”
Emily heard Cat standing behind her, but she didn’t look back. Jade jumped down from the wagon, careful to keep his empty hands in view, and walked towards the guards. Emily kept a wary eye on him, feeling a flicker of annoyance at how the guards barely glanced at her before dismissing her as unimportant. She knew she should be grateful to be ignored, particularly if Randor had any idea that she was accompanying Jade, but still…
“They’re taking their time,” Cat whispered. “What are they doing?”
“No idea,” Emily whispered back. It wasn’t uncommon for gates to be firmly closed after dark and not opened again until morning, no matter who demanded entry, but it was barely twilight. “Talking, it seems.”
Jade turned and hurried back to the wagon. “We’re not allowed in the town,” he said flatly, as he scrambled back onto the seat. “But there’s an inn on the far side, outside the walls. They’re playing host to a great many sellswords.”
“You’d think they’d want to hire us,” Cat said. “Did you see the way that idiot was holding his sword?”
“He came pretty close to unmanning himself.” Jade cracked the whip and the horses started to move, circling the palisade. “But we don’t want employment here, do we?”
“They wouldn’t want sellswords in their town at all, if it could be avoided,” Emily pointed out. “We’re about as welcome as wolves amidst the flock.”
She shook her head. Their cover story made sense. King Randor had put out a call for sellswords, as had most of the nobility. But it carried its own risks. Mercenaries were not loved, even during wartime. They were regarded as locusts; no, worse than locusts. She’d heard stories of sellswords being caught away from their bands and being brutally murdered by peasants who wanted to strike back at their unwanted guests. Jade had been insistent that they find a place to stay every night, even though it meant slowing their journey. The risk of being attacked if they camped in the open was too great.
“I took a look through the gate while they were talking,” Jade said. “I didn’t see any young men, save for a cripple. They were all old.”
“Conscripted,” Cat said.
“Or they’ve taken to the hills,” Jade said. He pointed towards the rolling tree-covered hills in the distance. They were part of the Royal Forest, if the map was to be believed, and technically forbidden to peasants, but the locals had never paid much attention to unenforceable laws when their livelihoods were at stake. “You could hide and feed an entire army in there if you wanted.”
Emily shrugged. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that Zangaria was going to explode. All the grievances that had been neglected for decades, perhaps centuries, were about to tear the entire country apart. It wouldn’t be long before the urge to start settling grudges turned into a demand for wholesale reform…
“There’s the inn.” Jade pointed to a long wooden building, positioned temptingly beside the Royal Road. A small statue holding a lantern stood in front, inviting passing travelers to rest their weary heads in a proper bed; behind, she could see–and smell–the stables. “Shall we go see if they have a room for us?”
“Hopefully, one without too many tiny visitors,” Emily said. She’d never stayed in an inn that hadn’t had everything from rodents to insects running around. The food would need to be tested carefully or they’d be laid up for days with stomach cramps. “Or will that cost extra?”
“Probably,” Jade said. “But we’re only going to be staying there for one night.”