Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

Kerrigan nodded easily. “Elven magick is very difficult to learn because it is different than human magick. Human magick you construct, whereas elven magick flows and grows.”

Any further discussion of magick ended with the tavern’s door opening. Resolute emerged first and Lombo followed, dragging a guardsman in each hand. He sat them beside the door, with their backs against the building. Will exited last and relocked the door while Dranae and Kerrigan returned the helmets to their respective owners.

Resolute frowned as he took the helmet Kerrigan had put on the man’s head and turned it around properly. “It’s done.”

Kerrigan smiled. “It worked?”

Will laughed. “Perfect, Kerrigan. When all this is over, you and me are going to be unstoppable. You drop the guards, and I’ll get the goods.”

The Vorquelf glanced down at the thief. “You didn’t steal anything, did you, boy?”

Will’s nostrils flared. “That wasn’t part of the plan. No.”

“Good. Then move.”

The five figures hustled away from the tavern. Kerrigan hesitated in the shadows from which he had cast the spell. “Do you want me to wake them up?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Kerrigan looked first from Resolute to Will. “Which?”

The Vorquelf shook his head. “Let them wake at dawn as they normally would.”

Will groaned. “But that means the guy in the basement will stay sleeping.”

“Let him. It just postpones things.”

Dranae raised an eyebrow. “The one who was kicking Crow? What did you do to him?”

Resolute shrugged. “The ladder down into the cellar is steep. He fell. Broke his leg.”

Will nodded. “A really nasty break, too, with the bone poking out and everything.”

Kerrigan blanched. “You broke his leg deliberately?”

“I wanted to break both of them, and then stuff his thumbs up…”

“Enough, Will.” Resolute urged them on through the town, pressing a hand over Kerrigan’s spine. “There are times, Adept Reese, when petty evils need to be met with painful retribution. The man will recover, but anytime he goes to kick someone else, he will remember. It’s not much of a victory, but for this night’s work, it will do.”

The rustle of feathers that announced Perrine’s arrival came more quietly than the dawn’s scrabbling of waking pigeons in the eaves. Alyx smiled and leaned out the window as the Gyrkyme folded her wings. Perrine had the coloration of a falcon, which was common for the Gyrkyme warrior caste, with dark brown feathers over shoulders and back, which shaded to cream over her breasts and belly and were dappled with brown. Large amber eyes flickered with intelligence, though the brown fletching around them did make her look as if tears had stained her face. The fierce grin belied any sadness, however.

“You were right, sister, they gathered at the far end of the town, thinking to go around as they headed to the capital. Lombo has squatted in the gate, and seems oblivious to the two guards beating him with sticks.”

Alyx shook her head. “I’d best get down there in case he decides to notice. Will you… ?”

Perrine screeched happily and launched herself into the morning air with a powerful beat of her wings. “Not too much blood, I promise.”

“Thank you, my sister.”

Alexia turned and stalked through her room, leaving her baggage and sword behind. As was her custom, she had braided her hair into a thick queue and tied it off with a black leather thong. She’d attired herself in a simple doeskin tunic and trousers to match, though they had been dyed black. She’d tucked them into her boots and belted the tunic with a wide belt into which she had tucked her gloves. Accustomed as she was to wearing her coat of mail, she felt light and almost naked without it as she flew down the stairs and out into the street.

It didn’t take her long to cross the distance from the inn to where Call Mably and his squad of guards had gathered. Lombo still squatted in the gateway, with the splintered bits of sticks littering the ground around him. Perrine perched on top of the gate, gazing balefully down at Mably, and Qwc had lighted on Crow’s shoulder. Around them, various townfolk had begun to assemble.

Alexia smiled as she broke into the circle and grabbed hold of Mably’s horse’s bridle. “Magistrate Mably, had you told me you intended to leave at this hour, I would have adjourned our celebration earlier.”

Were it not for the green mask he wore, Mably’s face would have had no color. Alexia revised her initial assessment quickly, for his eyes were rather red and his skin actually hinted at the color of his mask. She resisted the temptation to spook his horse, which easily would have spilled him from the saddle and quite probably induced vomiting.

“Princess, I thought not to trouble you with such a mundane thing as moving the prisoner.”

“You might not think I have an interest in that, Magistrate, but where my husband goes, so go I.”

Mably’s red eyes all but bugged from his mask. “What?”

Even Crow’s head came up. “Princess, don’t.” He clearly wanted to offer more of a protest, but lacked the energy. He’d been set in the saddle and tied there; his wrists were also heavily bound. A threadbare grey blanket had been thrown over him, but fell only to mid-thigh, letting everyone see his bare, bruised legs.

Mably raised his head. “You claim this man is your husband?”

Alexia nodded. “He is.”

“She’s lying.”

Mably smiled. “He denies it, Princess.”

“He’s delirious, and no wonder, after the treatment he’s had at your hands.” Alexia smiled warmly. “As well you know, Oriosan custom does allow a wife to travel with her husband while he is being taken for judgment.”

“Judgment has been rendered, he is bound for punishment. The custom does not apply.” Mably snorted. “Besides, he denies you are married.”

“And you have maintained he is Hawkins, the Traitor, who is a notorious liar, so how can you believe him?” She held up her left hand and thumbed a gold ring around her fourth finger. “We are wedded. We were wedded in a ceremony in Kedyn’s Temple at Fortress Draconis. Prince Erlestoke was a witness.”

Crow growled. “Mably, you are not so much a fool as to believe this, are you?”

“Hush, beloved.” The princess looked from Crow back up to Mably. “Look at his hand, Magistrate; you’ll see his ring. Even the most simple of magickers could tell you our rings are linked as they should be after such a ceremony.”

The bureaucrat snarled. “He had no ring when we took him into custody.”

“Your search of his person failed to find it.”

“You had no ring on last night.”

“You simply failed to see it.” Alyx snorted. “A consequence of being blind drunk, it would seem.”

Mably shook his head once, hard, then hissed in pain. “Princess, you know the only magicker worth the name here in Tolsin is Adept Reese, and I would trust what he says about those rings. You are lying.”

“She’s not lying.”

Alexia turned and saw a slender, dark-haired woman emerge from the crowd. Anger flashed through her, and above the gate Perrine’s wings unfurled. That is Sephi, the woman who betrayed Crow to Scrainwood. What is her game ?

Mably’s head came up. “What are you prattling on about, girl?”

Sephi’s eyes blazed. “I said she is not lying. They are wed.”

“More nonsense.”

“Is it?” Sephi’s voice took on an edge. “You know well who I am, Call Mably. I am the king’s eyes and ears. I was sent here to confirm the Traitor’s identity. I know all about him, and I know they are wed.”

The magistrate shifted his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”