The Queen of Mages (47 page)

Men like him.
Men like him, and Edon, and
Parvis, that’s what there is to fear.
She’d catch him, and get
rid of him.
Yes.
A tiny fragment of her mind screamed in
protest, but she growled at it until it fell silent.

Katin slipped through the inn’s side door.
It led to a narrow hall that turned a corner and let into the
common room. From there she could see the entryway and front desk.
It was late; only one old man sat in the common room, smoking a
pipe and staring into the fireplace. He did not look up at her as
she stepped quietly past.

There were no guest rooms on the ground
floor. She found the stairs and went up, wincing at every squeaky
step. The upper floor’s hall went both directions. Where had
Cameron gone? Maybe he hadn’t come up here at all. Maybe he’d just
gone out the other door. No; he must have come up. She went left,
then changed her mind and went right.

Katin stopped to listen at each door. At
most of them she heard nothing. In one, a voice sang, a woman’s
voice, soft. She didn’t recognize it. She moved on and reached the
end of the hall. A window there looked out onto the square, and she
could see the caravan guards moving silently through the night on
their rounds.

She started back down the other side of the
hall. The second door hung slightly open. She peeked in. Empty.

A click down the hall made her turn. A door
opened and Cameron came out. Katin threw herself through the open
door beside her and shut it. Her heart pounded.
I’ll get caught,
and then… then what? Can’t I be in an inn too?
She forced
herself to take deep breaths, one after the other until her pulse
slowed. She opened the door and looked out again, just as Cameron
went back into the other bedroom and pulled the door shut. He had
been carrying a bucket or something; she hadn’t seen it
clearly.

She waited heartbeats. Ten, twenty, thirty.
She tiptoed down the hall, praying to the Aspect of Terror that the
floorboards wouldn’t creak. At Cameron’s door, she stood to the
side, listening.

“…tonight he’ll…hours…” She could tell
Cameron’s voice, but the words were muffled. A woman giggled, then
shrieked, laughing. “…mine…ever know…” he went on, sinister.

“Move over,” came the woman’s voice,
clearly. Katin’s jaw dropped.
Janice!
“Yes, there… ahhh,
there,” she moaned, and then came a sound like someone clapping
their hands together softly.
Oh. No, not hands.
More
moaning.

Katin bit her lip to keep from laughing, and
ran to the stairs, down and out the front door past the innkeeper
who only had time to say, “What—” as she raced by.

She stumbled out into the cool night,
gulping down air.
Cameron and Janice. What a surprise.
Well,
Janice knew what she was getting into. The woman had made a point
of warning her off of Cameron when she and Liam had first joined
the caravan. Maybe she’d just wanted the louse for herself.
Well
she can have him.

Katin let herself calm again, then went
around the corner into the square. She found Larkin sitting on the
step of Coalridge’s wagon. “Good evening, sir,” she said.

“Evening, miss. Trouble?” He hefted his
cudgel.

“No, no. Master Coalridge said he needs, ah…
the envelope with the red seal? He’s still at the malthouse with
everyone else.”

Larkin nodded. “Off with you, I’ll have one
of the boys take it.” He whistled to one of the other guards as
Katin walked away.

She felt dizzy. The excitement had worn off
and her vision popped with pale ghosts. She went to her wagon and
struggled to take off her dress. In her shift, stretched out on the
bunk, she wanted Liam warm beside her, but she wouldn’t go through
the cold night again, not tonight, not for anything. Certainly not
for him.

Liam woke with crust in his eyes and had to
rub and blink for a good long while to get it all out. Katin snored
beside him still. She had been dead to the world when he’d come
back from the malthouse.
Poor girl, being made to leave the fun
and run an errand like that.
What had made David Coalridge so
cruel?

That day saw them trade well with the folk
of Turnbull. Liam was busy until sundown counting, recording,
double-checking. Coalridge seemed in a slightly better mood than
usual, so Liam risked his suggestion again about separating
sundries and dry goods. Coalridge glared, but barked that if Liam
wanted to keep an extra ledger for sundries and see if it
reconciled better later on, he was welcome to it. Assuming it
didn’t interfere with his normal duties.

Liam smiled weakly and agreed. He hadn’t
expected extra work from this. It was supposed to save them work in
the long run!
That’s what I get for trying to help.

The caravan moved on, turning north. “We
aren’t going to Stokeston?” he asked when Coalridge gave the order
to strike camp the next morning.

Coalridge glared. “No good trading in
Stokeston.”

“But it’s a huge city, the ducal seat,” Liam
argued. “Not so big as Callaston, surely, but—”

“You want to go to Stokeston, be my guest,”
Coalridge bit at him, and stomped away.

Liam sought out Stump—the enormous guard was
always good for a chat, and seemed to like him—and asked what
Coalridge had against Stokeston. “Banned from it, see,” Stump
informed him. “Some bad business wit’ th’ duke. He don’t fancy t’
talk about it.”

Liam was halfway back to the laundry wagon
before it occurred to him to wonder why he cared so much about the
caravan’s financial fortunes.
Curse me, my father was right. I
have a head for this.
The thought made him grumble all that
night. He and Katin had been with the caravan for weeks now, and it
was starting to feel familiar. Something like a home. He was
getting too attached.

The next afternoon the caravan nearly
reached another little town called Carson’s Watch, but they saw
smoke on the horizon as they approached it. Something was burning.
Coalridge sent one of the guards riding on ahead to investigate. He
returned to tell of frightened villagers and some building that had
been torched.

“Not like them,” Coalridge muttered. “Always
a good town. Pah. Can’t risk it.” He shouted out to the other wagon
drivers. “We’ll go around east, toward Brookings.”

The caravan camped by the side of the road
that night, a mile or two away from the town, and the next morning
had gone barely another mile before the wagons came to a halt. Liam
rode on the seat of the laundry wagon; Marcus drove it. “What’s
this about? We going back to Carson’s?” he said. “Maybe ol’
Coalridge’s sense of profit won out over his caution.”

“That’d be a change,” Liam joked. He hopped
down to go see what was the matter, and noticed Katin peering
around the side of the wagon. She’d been riding within, wanting to
be alone whenever she could, ever since Turnbull.
She can’t be
regretting one night of drinking
that
much, can she?

Liam went up toward the van. Indistinct
shouting floated back to him. A crowd had already gathered, guards
and apprentices watching something. Their bodies were tense, he
noticed, their arms held close.

He pushed past them just in time to hear a
sharp crack as David Coalridge slapped Janice Briggs across the
face so hard she fell into the mud. One breast popped free of her
low-cut bodice, and she scrambled to cover it. “I didn’t!” she
wailed at him.

“Yes you did!” Coalridge screamed back at
her. “You are mine alone, do you hear me?
Do you?
” He
reached down and grabbed her by the hair. “Tell me who it is!”

“What’s going on?” Liam demanded.

Coalridge jerked upright, letting Janice
fall back into the mud. “This whore lay with another man!” he
shouted, jabbing a stubby finger accusingly at the woman. “And I
will know who!” He aimed a kick at her, but missed by inches when
she lurched aside.

This was too much for Liam. “Leave her be!”
he roared, and shoved Coalridge back. He had half a foot on the
man, and twenty years of youth, but Coalridge glared angrily and
reached for his dagger anyway.

Liam had left his sword in the wagon, and
whipped his own dagger out instead. “Whatever she did, this is no
way to treat a woman,” he challenged.

Coalridge hesitated. “Why do you care,
apprentice?” He was about to speak again when Janice shouted, “It
was him!”

Liam glanced at her, keeping Coalridge in
his field of view. When he saw where her finger pointed, he almost
dropped the dagger.

She was pointing at him.

What in the name of Chaos?
“I never!
What in the world are you talking about?”

“Yes! It was him, I swear it!” she sobbed,
scrambling to her feet and scuttling over to cower behind
Coalridge. “He made me, he said he’d hurt me! Please, don’t let
him—”

Red clouded Liam’s vision. “This is absurd!
I—I’m married, I’d never touch her!”

“It’s not him!” came Katin’s shout, and he
saw her burst through the crowd and into the little clearing which
surrounded them. Liam saw now that everyone in the caravan watched
them all in horror. Even imperious Li Saong’s jaw had dropped open,
as she stared down from her wagon seat.

“You… you!” Coalridge said, ignoring
Katin.

“No! It wasn’t him!” Katin said, rushing in
by Liam’s side. “It was…” She glanced around.
Who is she looking
for? How does she know about this?
“Where is he?” Her voice
came out soft and strangled.

“Who?” Liam demanded.

Katin’s gaze caught someone. “Him.
Cameron!
” she shouted.

All eyes turned to the wagon owner,
unruffled in an emerald silk vest. He looked perplexed. “Me? That’s
ridiculous,” he said calmly.

Master Coalridge looked less certain now,
his eyes darting between Liam and Cameron, who stepped forward
through the crowd. “Cameron, lad. This isn’t true, is it?”
Coalridge growled.

“Of course not. Forgive me, but everyone
knows Janice is yours. I would never dream of interfering.” He
sketched a bow.

“I told you, it was him!” Janice shrieked,
pointing at Liam again.

“I saw them together!” Katin shouted back.
“Her and Mister Longwood! At the inn, in Turnbull. Coming back from
the malthouse. I saw you go in there!”

“You did, did you?” Cameron said. “I must
admit, I did visit the inn in Turnbull. Tell us, what else did you
see when you were sneaking about?”

Katin hesitated. “Go on,” Liam urged her.
“What happened?” Why hadn’t she told him about this?

“I… I saw you go into a room… I heard her
voice,” she glanced at Janice. “And you were… they were together,”
she ended weakly.

“Well?” Coalridge demanded.

“I’m afraid she’s caught me. But alas, that
was not Janice in that room. It was one Missus Torvand, a woman
I’ve known quite a long time. I’m afraid her husband would be quite
put out if he knew where she’d gotten to that evening.” He
chuckled, and some of the crowd did as well. “I admit, she does
have a similar voice to our dear Janice. I suppose you’d been
drinking at the malthouse that night, hmm?”

Katin shook her head angrily. “No, it was
her, I
heard
her.”

Coalridge rounded on Janice, seeming to
realize for the first time that the woman he’d been assaulting
earlier now hung on his arm. “Well? Don’t lie to me, woman, or I’ll
make you regret it.”

“I swear, it wasn’t me. I went to bed early
that evening! Ask the guards, they saw me.” She looked around
frantically. “Him! He saw me.” She pointed at Larkin, the
guard.

Larkin nodded, picking at his fingernails
absently. “That I did, sir. She went right to her wagon soon’s
dinner were done.”

Liam was bewildered. He knew he hadn’t done
any such thing as sleep with Janice. Katin seemed so sure of what
she’d seen.
Why didn’t you tell me?

“I do believe the conclusion is obvious,”
Cameron said.

Liam felt surrounded. Hostile glares came
from many of the onlookers. Even Maggie was scowling at him now,
the girl who couldn’t keep her hands off him. He looked at
Coalridge. “Master Coalridge, please believe me, I would never do
this! I’m married!” He held up his hands, praying that the false
rings on his fingers would somehow convince them all.

Coalridge stepped forward, shrugging off
Janice’s grasp. He stared at Liam, then Katin. “I knew you were
trouble. No wonder that baron wanted rid of you.” His eyes flicked
to the side a little, and he nodded.

Liam spun, but too late. A cudgel cracked
him over the head, and his vision flashed with lights. He felt his
hands hit the ground, and then another thump landed across his
back, and he fell belly-first into the muck. “Sorry,” he heard
Stump mutter. Katin shrieked, and time stretched out mercilessly as
the caravan guard beat Liam senseless.

———

The sky looked so blue. Pain covered Liam
head to toe like a blanket. A warm sensation on his cheek stood out
against the agony. He eventually realized that Katin cradled his
head in her lap. At least Stump hadn’t killed him. Death couldn’t
possibly hurt this much.

After a while some semblance of clarity
returned to him, and Katin helped him sit up against the bole of a
tree. The caravan was nowhere to be seen. Their beat-up leather
trunk sat on the ground beside them, a dagger perched atop it. It
wasn’t his; no, it was hers. He recognized the serpent coiling
around the pommel. A gift from Baron Parvis.

Katin held a round metal canteen to his lips
and helped him drink. The water was warm, but better than
nothing.

“They left us,” she said. “You’ve been
unconscious for a while. Coalridge took your sword and dagger. All
we have is mine.” Her eyes were red, her face more determined than
ever. He wanted to kiss her, but the pain was too much to bear.

At least nothing feels broken,
he
thought, moving all his muscles one by one.
Thanks, Stump.
Every part of him protested, but he soon found that he could stand.
Katin put an arm under his. “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we just
have to go back to that last town.”

“The one that was on fire?” he coughed.
“Might be an improvement.” At least she smiled a little. It lifted
his own spirits; he felt a useless fool for having gotten into this
situation.

It took until afternoon to reach the edge of
Carson’s Watch, with Katin dragging their trunk along and Liam
stumbling and stopping every few paces to rest. The land here was
dank and swampy, and there were few farms. They saw one on the way
into town that looked abandoned. The field beside it had been
burned.

Like Turnbull, this town had no wall. “We
have a little coin,” Katin said to him as they stopped to rest at
the side of the road near a cottage. Several more like it marched
up the lane into the town. “We can probably get a room in the inn,
for at least one night.”

“Only a little? What happened to all the
silver?” Liam said, breathing heavily as he tried to recover from
the last stretch of walking.

Katin bit her lip. “Coalridge took it,” she
said. “He said we owed him for all the trouble we caused. All
that’s left is what was in my dress.” She patted at a pocket, which
clinked a little.

“We should… should save it,” Liam said,
remembering his adventure into Callaston to rescue her, and how the
silver had slipped through his fingers like water.

“No! You need food, and water, and a
bed.”

He was too tired to argue, and let it be.
They rested a while, and the occasional passerby gave them odd
looks but hurried on. After a while, Liam felt strong enough to
walk again, but as they stood, four men on horseback rode up, armed
with swords and mail. “You there,” the largest one called out. He
looked to be Liam’s own age, maybe younger. His eyes were sunk deep
into his face, in the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat. “What business
have you here?”

Liam tried to speak, but started coughing
and doubled over in pain. Katin spoke instead. “We’re with… we
were
with a caravan, but they stole our coin and threw us
out. And beat my… my husband near to death.”

“He don’t look well,” said one of the
men.

“Nonsense, I could take the lot of you
one-handed,” Liam wheezed, and doubled over coughing again. Someone
laughed; whether with him or at him, he had no idea. When he looked
up again, the men all seemed less tense, but their leader still
glared.

“Make no trouble or we’ll have you on the
gallows. And be gone by nightfall, or else.” He jerked his head and
the party rode off, back into the town.

“Four men against a half-dead merchant’s son
and his bride,” Liam muttered. “We must seem more threatening than
I feel.”

“I’m more of a threat than you are right
now,” Katin said, holding tight to his arm. “Come on.” She helped
him take a few steps, when another voice called out behind
them.

“You there. Excuse me,” said a woman. Liam
turned around. He saw a woman wearing black wool and a white
bonnet. A goodwife of the town, no doubt.

“Yes?” Katin said tensely.

“Strangers,” she murmured. She looked
ambivalent, Liam thought.

A young boy came running up to her and
tugged on her apron. “Mama. Mama!”

“Hush. You,” she said, addressing Liam. “Are
you what you said you are, to those men?”

“Yes, though I wish we weren’t. It might
have saved me a beating.”

“We’re going to take a room at the inn,”
Katin said. “Do you know the way?”

The woman shook her head. “The inn’s burned.
You picked a bad day. Come on.” She gestured toward the house
they’d passed. “Come rest. I can’t let the likes of you roam about.
It’ll just mean more trouble.”