Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

He turned to go, but Will reached a hand out to stop him. “Count Marsham, your service to us is so dear.” Will grasped the man’s right hand in both of his and pumped it fiercely, then half turned and waved the man toward the door.

Marsham departed, but glanced covertly at his hand, just to make certain all his rings were still there. He bowed as he exited, then closed the doors. Before they clicked shut, Will did see the man glaring at him, and the thief suppressed the desire to stick out his tongue.

Cabot Marsham had found him at the Rampant Panther Inn where Alexia’s companions had taken rooms. The man’s speech had been flowery and unctuous —a word Will got from Kerrigan and, while he didn’t know what it meant, it just sounded right. Marsham had spoken of the honor it would be to conduct him to the king, and the hope and love he had for Will. Despite that, Will noted that the man wore far fewer rings than the lines on his fingers suggested he preferred, had chosen older clothing for his journey, and carried a purse with no serious weight of coin in it.

If trust were measured in gold, Marsham’s couldn’t have bought sour beer and moldy bread meant for swineslop.

But, as far as Will was concerned, swineslop would have been too good for Marsham, and probably for the king as well. In spite of that belief, Will adjusted his mask, then bowed deeply.

“Will, no need for formality between such as us. While you may be only a lord, you and I are cut of the same cloth. Great times demand great efforts from the great, and we are great.” Scrainwood beckoned him forward as casually as he had dismissed Marsham, though it struck Will that dismissal came far more naturally to him than summoning. “Come here, Wifl. There are things we must discuss.”

The thief marched straight down the carpet, glancing at the panels and the windows. Wearing his mask did not bother him, save where it trimmed a little off his peripheral vision. Still he did spot many things that would be of great value, were they not far too large to be carried off easily.

A flashed vision of fire and of gibberers hauling things away shook him. The only way any of this will leave here is if the palace is looted . At first that struck him as a good thing, since it would punish Scrainwood. That thought, however, died as Will realized that the sacking of the palace would mean the city had fallen. The smiling faces of those who had greeted him, of those who had seen him as a savior, melted into tortured reflections in bloody pools.

Will focused on the king as he stopped a dozen feet from the dais. “What would you have of me, Highness?”

“First, my hearty greeting and best wishes. I apologize for taking so long to bring you here. I simply insist that you move from your current lodgings and stay here in the palace.”

The thief nodded. “Your invitation is most kind, Highness, but I shall remain where I am. The people like having me there. We sing and tell stories. It makes them happy and less afraid.”

Scrainwood hesitated for a moment, as if weighing Will’s argument. “But your safety is in question.”

“You’ve never taken a good look at Resolute, have you?”

“He is your Vorquelf?”

The thief winced. “He and Crow found me and have kept me safe. He’s killed a sullanciri . They both have. I’m safe with him.”

The king nodded in acquiescence, but Will thought his surrender was a bit too quick. “I shall abide by your wishes in that matter, though I should point out that, as a Lord of the Realm, you do have certain incomes that mean you can afford better lodgings.”

Will’s expression did brighten at the mention of money, but the quick flash in the king’s eyes cautioned him. “I didn’t know that, Highness.”

“Indeed. You are not the richest of nobles, but Valsina does produce rents and incomes. The merchantman Playfair has been administering the holdings ever since your father… went away. He keeps a good accounting, steals little, and delivers the taxes on time. It would not be an exaggeration to say you could buy the tavern where you dwell now without a significant diminution of your wealth.”

The thief frowned with concentration and slowly divined the meaning of the king’s words. “That much, huh? That’s a lot, because they’re charging us a blind a night.”

Scrainwood stiffened as Will used the slang term for the realm’s gold coin. Officially known as a crown, it had Scrainwood in profile on the face. Almost without exception, the coins in circulation had that single eye punched, gouged, scraped, or scratched out. Some said it was because Scrainwood used magick to watch them through the coins, but Will had the feeling that most folks just wanted the king to turn a blind eye on them and their dealings.

Will continued, letting his words flow quickly and his voice betray a lack of sophistication. “So that would make ten blinds for a week and in a month thirty, so for a year that would be, urn, well, that is more money than I’ve ever had before. Are you sure it is mine?”

“Yes, Will, it is. It belongs to you as right of your blood and”—the king injected gravity into his voice—“because of the responsibilities you acquit to the crown. You do wish to observe and maintain the responsibilities of a noble, do you not, Will Norrington?”

The thief nodded because that was the response the king wanted.

“Very good.” Scrainwood stepped down from the dais and wandered off toward the windows. Snow still came down. In the last four days there had been one day of sunshine, but all it did was melt a crust onto the snow and coat roadways with ice, then two more days of snow had fluttered white over the city. Just getting Will to the palace had been a chore for Marsham’s cursing coachman and in another couple of days, the city would be immobilized.

“As you know, Will, the trial of Hawkins for treason against your nation and against your family soon will begin. King Augustus and Queen Carus will be arriving late today or early tomorrow and the trial will begin a half-week from now. Your participation in that trial will be vital. Hawkins, being from Valsina, is one of your vassals. He owes a duty to you and your family that he failed to acquit.”

The king turned and the light from the window lanced down to outline him in silver fire, darkening his face. “You have spoken affectionately of Crow. I know the songs you sing in the tavern, songs of your own making, praise him. I’ve heard ‘The Lay of Ganagrei,’ and found it quite stirring though clearly fanciful. Your attachment to Hawkins is understandable, but you are young and even now growing into adult responsibilities. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Will nodded. “I think I do, Highness.”

“Then let us make certain there is no mistaking it. You were given a man’s mask years ahead of your time. Destiny has chosen you, Will, and destiny will require that you do many things that you might otherwise wish to avoid. Hawkins, years before you were born—years before you met him—betrayed this nation. He betrayed me. He betrayed your father and grandfather and barely avoided bringing ruin upon the world. All that you fight now is his fault, and his efforts on your behalf spring from remorse, nothing more.

“As a noble of this realm, it is your sworn duty to protect your nation from treason. For this reason, you have a duty to preserve lawful order. Hawkins was convicted of treason before, but because of maneuvering by Princess Alexia, we need to try him again. Your word, as a noble and his lord, will carry much weight in court. If you denounce him, he will be condemned. If you do not, your nation will crumble, for all order and discipline will collapse.”

The thief scratched at the back of his head. “So you are telling me that unless I help condemn a man who hasn’t done anything wrong, I’ll destroy Oriosa?”