Dawn of the Dreamsmith (The Raven's Tale Book 1) (53 page)

The singer bowed to the crowd, which soon began to disperse. A few stopped to offer him coins – gold as well as bronze and silver, she was astonished to see – but with a shy smile he turned them away, declining their donations. One young woman stopped to talk for him for a few moments. Marie was too far away to hear what was said, but the singer nodded, reached into the folds of his robe and drew out a leather pouch. From this he pulled a silver chain and pendant that was the twin of the one he himself wore, and gently laid it around the woman’s neck. With shy smile, she turned away and left the plaza.

Marie felt a tug on her arm, and looked down to see Milly approach the singer. She went with her, pulling Rose along behind. The singer looked up at them and smiled.

“That song was... beautiful,” Marie told him, blushing. “I’ve never heard anything like it before.”

“Thank you.”

After a pause, Marie realised that he was not going to add anything further. “Yes, well,” she went on, somewhat awkwardly. “My girls were very keen to see you perform. We all enjoyed your music.”

“These are your daughters?” he asked. His forehead wrinkled slightly with confusion.

Marie laughed, feeling unusually giddy. “Dear me, no. Those days are long gone, I’m afraid. This is Amelie and Rosalynd, daughters of Prince Adelmar and Lady Ellara.”

The singer looked startled and fell to his knees. “Your Highnesses, please accept my humble apologies for not recognising you at once.”

The girls giggled as Marie reached down to help the young man to his feet. “No apologies necessary, my dear. The girls have been away from the city for a long time, there is no reason at all why you should have known them.” She smiled at him placatingly. “And what is your name?”

“Tamas.” His surprise seemed to have eased, and he was calm once more. “I’m honoured that such noble visitors would come to see a humble minstrel perform,” he added, bowing.

“The girls were very keen to come along, weren’t you girls?” They nodded in response. “Why, Milly practically ran all the way here when she heard about the necklaces you were giving away.”

“You mean these?” Tamas reached into his robe again, and withdrew the pouch she had seen earlier. Once again, he dipped inside and lifted out a pretty silver chain set with a shining green stone. Milly’s eyes went wide when she saw it. “These are very special,” he said to her. “At night you can hold them up to your ear, and hear a song like the one you heard me play just now.”

Marie smiled indulgently. It sounded like the sort of tall tales adults often told to children. A harmless charade. “It’s very... sparkly,” she said, watching the play of light across the surface of the crystal. “Did you still want one, Milly?”

The elder girl reached up and tentatively took the necklace from Tamas’ fingers. Eagerly, she drew the chain over her head and let the pendant fall across the front of her dress. “And what about you?” he asked, addressing Rose.

The younger girl shook her head. “Don’t like green,” she said, scowling.

“Another day, perhaps.” Tamas put the leather pouch back inside his robes. He turned to look towards the cathedral, and Marie saw two other Brothers standing at the entrance, watching them. “I must go,” the young singer said suddenly, stooping to pick up his stool. “It was an honour to meet you all. I hope you will come back and listen to me perform again soon.”

They stood and waved goodbye as Tamas turned and walked briskly back to the cathedral, stool in one hand and the other clutching his silver harp against his chest. “What a nice young man,” said Marie. “Now, it’s starting to get late and it’s time to return to the palace. We don’t want to be caught outside after curfew.”

“But I didn’t find anything for momma,” Rose wailed.

Marie tutted. “Hush, child. We’ll go to the market tomorrow and see if we can find something for her there.”

“Stupid curfew,” the younger girl replied sullenly.

“I agree it’s an inconvenience,” Marie sighed. “But your father says that there is no other choice. It’s three young women now that have died, and until they catch whoever is responsible we all have to make sacrifices.”

Still, Rose complained bitterly about the need to return to their quarters all the way back. Milly was strangely quiet, however. Once or twice, Marie glanced at the elder girl, but she seemed happy enough. Quiet, thoughtful, but not unhappy. Marie shrugged and put it down to the caprices of youth.

*      *      *

The musky odour of horses reached Adelmar’s nostrils first as he approached the stables. The wooden construction was a fair size, built to hold enough animals to mount an entire cavalry regiment. It was nearly full now, he saw, when he eased open the door. A hundred stalls lined the long room, inside which a century of horses whickered and shifted restlessly. A dozen grooms, at least, tended to the animals, brushing their coats and the tangles from their manes and tails, and making sure that each was fed and watered.

Adelmar glowered at them as he marched down the long corridor between the rows of stalls. When the grooms saw their commander striding into the stable, they redoubled their work, labouring even harder over their charges. It had been several days since he had needed to order a stableboy dragged to the post outside the barracks next-door and flogged, but that had been enough of an example to the others and their diligence had not faltered since.

At the end of the building was another door, which led to a storeroom in which was kept oats for the horses, brass and leather polish for the tack, wheelbarrows, forks, shovels and everything else required for their care. A soldier wearing chainmail and white tabard with the imperial sigil stood on duty in front of the door. Adelmar stopped in front of the guard, who stood to attention at his approach. “He is in here?”

“Yes sir.” The guard saluted, then grimaced. “Lieutenant Slake is with him.”

Adelmar’s lip curled with distaste. The presence of the second-in-command of his father’s household guard did not please him. But, there were certain circumstances that required his particular... talents. He nodded wearily, and pushed open the storeroom door.

He had spent most of his life around horses, and the familiar scent of them was not one that he found unpleasant. But the same could not be said for the stink that filled the storeroom. Adelmar’s nose wrinkled as he went inside and closed the stable door behind him. The odour of blood and other human secretions was what assailed his nose first, but there was an undercurrent of something worse. The stench of fear.

He strode between shelves filled with boxes and supplies, until he found them. One man stood with his back to him. If Adelmar had not already known him for a soldier, there would be no clue here to give away that fact. The man was wearing a leather apron over plain, roughspun woollens. His balding hair was cut short, revealing his scalp. While not tall, long limbs and a reed-thin frame often made him appear larger than he was. He was fiddling with a variety of objects laid out on a table in front of him, which Adelmar could not make out fully in the dim light of the storeroom.

Slake turned his head as Adelmar approached. “Ah, Commander, it is good that you have arrived. I trust you do not mind that I,
mhm
, commenced without you.”

Adelmar grunted. He had always found mildly irritating the lieutenant’s habit of punctuating his sentences with small, murmured chuckles when no-one but he was aware of any humour in his words.

“I am afraid I do not have much to report as yet,” Slake went on. “But I am,
mhm,
confident of improved results once the subject awakens.”

Adelmar looked towards the room’s other occupant, and felt something close to pity. A naked man sat upon a wooden chair, his wrists and ankles bound to the frame with thick leather straps. His skin, darker in complexion than would normally be found within the Empire, was covered by a network of bloody scratches, abrasions and burns. On the seat of the chair and the floor around him was blood, both dried and fresh, while several toes and fingers were discoloured and angled unnaturally. The man’s head slumped forward, his eyes closed. Unconscious.
Probably for the best,
Adelmar thought.

“This has to be done here, did it?” he asked gruffly. “The palace dungeons would seem more fitting for such business.”

“Fear not, Highness. The Pit will claim this one soon enough. He was caught skulking around just behind these stables. It seemed,
mhm
, prudent to discover what we can here before he is spotted being taken elsewhere.”

“You are sure he is a spy?”

The bald inquisitor spread his hands apologetically. “He claims to be a sailor belonging to one of the Tenebrian trading vessels. But he is far from the port, is he not?”

“Has he explained why he was found behind my barracks?”

“As he tells it, he became lost looking for a,
mhm,
house of the night.”

Adelmar looked down at the unconscious figure. It seemed hard to believe that anyone could withstand such pain without confessing all they knew. “Perhaps he is telling the truth.”

A greasy smile slid across the inquisitor’s face. “If he is, then he’s the unluckiest man in Ehrenburg, Highness. However, I believe applying a little more pressure is likely to reveal his true purpose.”

Adelmar’s jaw tightened. “Proceed.”

With a nod, Slake returned to his bench and picked up a small bucket. He flung the contents in the face of the naked man, and the smell of vinegar stung Adelmar’s eyes. The man awakened instantly with a screech, spitting out the liquid that had entered his mouth, writhing in pain where it had touched his wounds.

“Now, where did we leave off?” The inquisitor mused, his voice soft. “Ah yes. Perhaps you could remind me why our patrol found you outside our barracks?”

“
Felhadhi
... please, master. I tell you already.” The man’s voice was a ragged sob. “I leave ship. I get lost. Your men find me, bring me here. That is all, I swear.”

“If it was a whore you wanted, why leave the harbour? There are plenty there to choose from.”

“I... I do not know, master.
Felhadhi
, let me return to ship. I go, never return.”

As fast as a striking snake, the inquisitor was behind him. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked the man’s head back, a skinning blade held against his throat. The man cried out in fear.

“There’s no ship for you now, we both know that full well,” Slake hissed. “All that remains is for you to decide whether this ends quick or slow... and believe me,
mhm
, I can keep this up for as long as it pleases me.” The man nodded to show understanding, pricking the skin of his throat on the point of the knife. He moaned. “Good,” the inquisitor continued. “Now that we know where we all stand, tell me true. Which of the courts are you working for, hm? The Court of Death? Perhaps. The Court of Night? More likely. But I wish to hear it from your own lips. If your answer pleases me, I can be merciful.”

“Master, please, I... I am but a simple sailor. I know nothing of the courts. If I did, I would tell. But I know nothing.”

What followed went on for some time. After grimly watching the inquisitor at work for a few moments, Adelmar left the storeroom and returned to the stables, closing his ears to the shrieks. The guard was still at his post, and looked as uncomfortable as he with what was taking place behind the wooden door.

Eventually, all fell quiet once again, and Adelmar went back to the storeroom. He tried to avoid glancing at the wretched form on the chair as he approached the inquisitor. “Is he dead?” he asked.

Slake was panting heavily, and with the back of one hand wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow. “No, Highness. Merely fainted. Fear not, this will only end at a time of my,
mhm
, choosing.”

“Has he given you anything useful?”

“Some.” Slake smiled. “He has admitted that he is on a mission from one of the five courts, but will not say which one.” He shrugged. “It matters not. They are all enemies of the Empire and will be crushed, one by one. I ask mainly from curiosity. He has also not yet told me about his task. I suspect it is merely reconnaissance, spying on our strength to report back to his masters, but it is worth finding out for certain. Sabotage is always a possibility, even assassination. I will continue to press. He has been surprisingly... resistant so far.”

“Get everything you can before he’s taken to The Pit,” Adelmar said firmly. “Find out everything you can about their coastal defences. If there is a weak spot, I would know of it.”

“As you wish, Highness.” Slake bowed obsequiously, and yet Adelmar detected an undercurrent of disrespect. He ignored it, keen to leave the inquisitor’s presence as quickly as possible.

A black cloud had settled over his mood by the time he reached his family’s apartments at the imperial palace. The sight of his brooding expression was enough to send his wife’s handmaids fleeing when he marched into the bedchamber.

Ellara raised a quizzical eyebrow as Adelmar stormed over to their window, which looked down upon the rooftops of the city, and stood brooding before it, arms crossed. “Is everything all right, husband?” she ventured finally.