Mercedes Lackey - The Robin And The Kestrel

"H-he m-may have f-forbidden p-public entertainment," Kestrel said slowly, "b-but he can't s-stop p-people from d-doing a t-trick or two t-to amuse th-their f-friends in p-public!"

Robin visibly brightened, and snapped her fingers. "Now there is an idea! And by the time any Constable gets there, well, the party has broken up and there's no one to arrest! I can think of a lot of people who would like to be in on that plan!"

So can I , Jonny thought, remembering Ardana's girls, and wondering if any of the unofficial Houses would welcome a trickster as entertainment instead of a musician. For that matter, a party made up of a few of the young ladies and their favorites could well wander the inns every couple of nights... or better yet, every couple of afternoons, so the ladies would not be losing any income.

With all the lovely ladies in such a party, eyes would naturally be drawn to it. And when someone offered to do a trick for the amusement of the group_

Oh, yes, that would work very well indeed. Very well.

He was so lost in his own musings that he missed part of what Robin was saying.

"We'll leave at dawn, and we should reach Gradford in a few days," she was saying to Reymond. "I know where we can leave the wagon, so we aren't recognized, coming in a second time."

"And I will do my part as soon as I believe I have mastered the binding spell," Reymond said, solemnly. "That will be two days, at the most. I will work this release by daylight; I am not brave enough to face your deadly spirit by night." Then he blinked. "You are braver than I, friends. The only foe I face is one who will likely help me if he can, when he learns my task. You face an entire city."

I wouldn't place any money on the odds of the Ghost helping you , Kestrel thought, and shrugged. "Th-that m-many p-people c-can work against each other," he only observed.

"May it be so," Brother Reymond said, making the words into a benediction. "Go with the blessing of God, my friends. I shall see you to the kitchen gate; no one will question my walking about so late."

"Thank you, Brother Reymond," Robin said, then grinned. "From a good heart, the blessing of your God is worth a thousand from anyone else_and I have the uneasy feeling we're going to need all the blessings we can get!"

"This place is worse than it was when we left," Robin muttered under her breath, as they waited in line at the city gate for a Constable to get to them. "And I didn't think that was possible."

There was one advantage to returning to a city you knew something about; you also knew where things were, and the best way to disguise yourself as harmless. They had entered this time with a crowd of farm-folk, carrying simple packs. The wagon and horses had been left at the inn, along with most of their possessions. It had been a long time, nearly six months, since Robin had been forced to walk to get where she wanted to go, and she'd forgotten what a luxury it was to ride....

Now her legs and back ached, and so did her arms; the last part of the journey, taking the switchback road up to the gates of Gradford, had nearly done her in.

But the shock of seeing the changes in the city they had left only a few days ago was enough to make her forget her aching legs.

It started at the gates; they were informed as they entered that their packs were going to be searched for unspecified "contraband." Robin suspected that "contraband" included money, and was very glad that she and Kestrel had hidden the horde of coins they had brought with them in the hems of her drab skirts and petticoats. That was where they had hidden the silk-wrapped pendant as well. It was a good thing they had taken that precaution, as it turned out. Even the clothing in their packs underwent an examination; one woman was found to have a pair of breeches in her bag, and was informed that "decent women are to be clothed decently in Gradford." The Guard gave her a long lecture on what a "decent" woman was and was not_and that if she were found "dressing against her sex" she would be thrown in the stocks for it.

The poor woman was in tears before he had finished with her. She was a simple farm-wife, here to see the great High Bishop and visit a sister who had just given birth, and it had never occurred to her that the wearing of breeches to do the heavy chores could possibly be considered "immoral" by anyone's standards.

Well, she wasn't alone; it hadn't occurred to Robin, either. Now she was very glad that she had left her breeches in the wagon. She was even gladder that they had left the wagon_nearby, a simple farm-cart had been stripped down to the bed in a search for "contraband," and she did not even want to think what kind of inspection their wagon would have gone through.

But these Guards were oddly reticent about touching women, although that reticence did not extend to their baggage. They never even laid a finger to her sleeve; they shied away from her as if simple contact might contaminate them.

Fortunately this very prudery concerning women kept them from searching Robin as they did Kestrel; he submitted to the humiliating search with a bored look on his face, and they found nothing more incriminating than a handful of Mintak copper coins, which were confiscated for bearing the images of nonhumans upon them. "Portraits of unbelievers," they were called.

To be fair, they did give him a chit for the supposed "value" of the coins, which could be redeemed at the Cathedral. Which they did not intend to do, for the Guard made it very clear that only those whose piety was in doubt would do such a thing; the rest would consider their lost coins a donation to the Church.

So much for the "honest men of Gradford." Robin wondered how that particular Guard, the one who had refused a gift of a God-Star, was doing now. Did actions like these bother him_or had he been persuaded like the rest of them?

As they waited for the endless questions and inspections to be over, Robin watched the street of the inns beyond this Guardpost. There were Guards and Constables everywhere. One was posted at the entrance to every inn, taking down the names of everyone who came to stay there. The street preachers had real podiums now, erected beneath the street lamps, from which to harangue the passersby.

There were rules now, endless rules. So many they made Robin's head swim, then ache. Things that could not be worn, eaten, drunk, said, or done. And they were informed that there was something called a "curfew," that once the bell had rung from the Cathedral signaling that Sixte was over, they had one hour to get inside. After that, only folk with emergencies or official passes had leave to be on the streets.

Public gatherings were prohibited. Public parties were prohibited. Gathering in an inn for the purpose of "idleness" was forbidden. Only those living in an inn were permitted to eat and drink in the inn. Strong drink was prohibited, as were gambling and music.

Except in that special House that Padrik owns. ..

And women must not be "forward," must always be "modest and unassuming," in word, deed_ and thought . There were more rules about the proper conduct for a woman; Robin let them all wash over her without really noting them. If she did take note, she knew she would become so enraged she would give herself away.

Forewarned by the lecture to that poor, hapless farm woman, Robin let Jonny do all the talking, which he did in very slow monosyllables, constantly pulling on his forelock, and mumbling "yessir" and "nossir." Their story was as simple as his words. He was "Jon Brede," she was "Jen Brede." They "farmed." Their purpose in coming to Gradford_

"Same as them," Jonny said, nodding at the rest of the group. 'Visit the Cathedral."