The Glittering Court (40 page)

“
Highly
irregular,” Edwin repeated. Mary returned with several pieces of paper.

“I'm his attorney,” Nicholas told them. “And this young lady is his—”

“Wife,” I finished.

Nicholas hesitated as he took that in and then made a quick recovery. “And should Mister Harrison doubt that, you could of course show him the proof.”

“It's with a magistrate in Hadisen,” I said. Giving that up was a big secret, but legally, I should have a fair amount of power to act on Cedric's behalf, especially with Nicholas as legal backup. Considering the trouble we were already in, revealing our marriage couldn't really make things worse.

“Never a dull moment,” Nicholas murmured with a half smile. He turned back to the Harrisons. “So, you see, there's no problem with our going forward for him.”

Edwin wavered a bit more and then conceded. “Very well then. We're eager to begin our work with those passionate about our vision.”

He and Nicholas began going over the paperwork. I knew a little bit about the terms from Cedric, but hearing it laid out in detail was fascinating. Most of the other colonies were founded on orders of the king, who then appointed governors and other prominent leaders. Westhaven's founding had been initiated by the crown as well, following ceding of the land by the Icori in another morally questionable truce. Unlike other colonies, the crown operated this one as a business in response to those clamoring for freedom to practice their faith. The
priests of Uros might want to hunt down and persecute heretics, but the king found it easier to simply ship them off.

“Essentially, we are buying from the crown the right to lead Westhaven—though we're still a royal colony under Osfrid,” Edwin explained. “Each stake helps pay off that price. We're nearly there and can begin officially drawing up charters, though we've begun some rough drafts already. Those doing the early buy-ins can take part in the planning. From that group, we'll elect who fills the important positions—eventually, all citizens will participate in such an election, but that's further down the road.”

“And all faiths can worship there,” I said.

Mary gave me a gentle smile. “Yes, that's our primary purpose.”

Nicholas read each part in detail, suggesting a few clarifications that the Harrisons had no quarrel with. When Nicholas was satisfied, he wrote out the final affidavit on Cedric's behalf, reaffirming a commitment to Westhaven and its laws. He signed as proxy and then looked up, his pen hovering over the paper.

“I, uh, have a bit more irregularity to suggest, but we'd like to backdate this as well.”

Edwin frowned. “How far?”

“About three weeks,” I said.

“Some might consider that perjury,” said Edwin pointedly. “Something I'm sure a man of the law would know.”

“If you don't do it, Cedric will die,” I blurted out. “He's on trial for Alanzan heresy, and we need to claim Westhaven's amnesty.”

The troubled look in Edwin's eyes didn't reassure me, but Mary laid her hand over his. “Dear, isn't
this
what the point is? To prevent this kind of atrocity?”

Edwin took a few more moments and then exhaled. “Date it,” he told Nicholas. Nicholas did, and then Edwin signed underneath as witness—also using the early date. He took my hard-earned money.

I felt like crying, but maybe that was the lack of sleep. “Thank you—thank you! You have no idea—”

The inn's door burst open, and a wide-eyed laborer peered in. “A hanging! There's going to be a hanging! They convicted that Alanzan devil!”

Nicholas groaned, but I was already on my feet. “No, no! We are
not
too late. We can't be.” I grabbed the papers and sprinted for the door. Nicholas caught up quickly.

“Wait for me—the rabble loves an execution. It'll be madness out there.”

He was right. We joined a flood of people heading across town, eager for blood. I wished we had horses but wasn't sure we would've gotten far in this crowd. I tried to fix my mind on the journey, not imagining what might happen to Cedric if I didn't make it. “I knew it could be soon,” I called to Nicholas over the noise. “But I hoped not
this
soon.”

“The governor makes the call on when the sentence is carried out,” Nicholas said. “And this governor is pretty motivated to see this so-called justice done. I'm sure they'll delay enough to get a good crowd. They like an audience—scares people into behaving.”

The thought of Cedric's execution was beyond comprehension. What if they did it? And I wasn't there in his last moments?

The courthouse came into sight. They'd already put up the gallows, and a few dark figures stood on it. One almost certainly was Cedric. The crowd bottlenecked when we finally reached our destination. Everyone wanted a good view, but they could only get so close. No one wanted to give up the spot they'd fought for, so pushing our way forward was difficult.

Near the back, I caught sight of Aiana. She had a hand to her eyes to shield against the sun and was scanning the crowd. She hurried over. “Adelaide! I wondered where you were. Have you seen Mira?”

“No, but I thought she'd be here. I have to get through,” I said urgently. “I have to get up there.”

She joined us unhesitatingly, and Nicholas asked, “Was Warren Doyle exonerated?” She scowled and nodded.

Aiana helped shove our way through the crowds. We received a lot of angry curses but pushed on anyway. It was still slow going, and we were barely halfway through when Governor Doyle moved to the front of the gallows. I could see Cedric clearly now, his good arm bound behind his back, and my heart sank. Warren stood nearby with a hooded hangman.

“Good citizens of Denham,” the governor shouted. “We are here to see justice done—to help purify our colony and drive off evil forces within it.”

The crowd had quieted a little, and I decided to take my chances. “Governor Doyle!” I shouted. “Governor Doyle!”

He didn't hear, but a few irritated bystanders shushed me. I attempted to move closer.

“Today, I give you a heretic—not just any heretic but one of the foul Alanzans.” Hisses sounded around us. “One who practices dark arts and has unholy communion with the six wayward angels.”

I'd gotten a little closer and tried again. “Governor Doyle!”

He still didn't hear, but those in front of me turned around to see what was happening. They gave way to me out of simple curiosity, and my next attempt was heard: “Governor Doyle!”

He searched for the voice and spotted me. “Lady Witmore. You missed the trial.”

The crowd parted for me, and getting to the front was easy. I hurried to the gallows stairs, locking eyes with Cedric. A couple of soldiers started to block me, but Warren shook his head at them.

“Let her say goodbye.” There was no kindness in his voice.

I held the papers in the air. “You can't execute him! He's a citizen of Westhaven! I have the proof. He's allowed to practice there, and you have to honor that here.”

Warren's condescending look turned into a snarl. “Take your forged papers and get out of here.”

“They're not forgeries,” Nicholas called from below. He and Aiana had worked their way up in the crowd. “I'm an attorney, and
I completed them with Westhaven's chief representative. Everything's in order. Mister Thorn's citizenship was intact the day you found the Alanzan items.”

“How convenient this just surfaced,” snapped the governor. “You should've presented this ‘evidence' before the verdict. This demon
will
be brought to justice, and I'll be damned if . . .”

He trailed off as his eyes lifted to something beyond me. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to see what had caught his attention. A group of riders was charging down the road, oblivious to anything in their way. The panicked crowd split up, frantic to get to safety.

“Governor!” cried one of the men when they were within hearing. “The Icori are here! A whole force of them!”

Governor Doyle regarded the man as if he was crazy. “There haven't been Icori in the city in years—or anywhere in Denham.”

The man pointed. “They're right behind me! Call the soldiers!”

But as I'd noticed before, Cape Triumph didn't have a large military presence. There had been no need, now that threats from the Icori and Lorandians were nonexistent. The crown had diverted the bulk of its might to more vulnerable colonies, leaving the old fort all but abandoned. Today, crowd management was being handled by scattered militia and a handful of remaining soldiers.

I had a hard time believing the Icori claim too, but then I saw what came down the road next. A pack of nearly fifty horses approached, surrounded in a cloud of dust. As they grew closer, I saw the bright colors of plaid wool draped over the riders. Sunlight shone on heads of red and gold hair. Equally visible were swords and shields.

Chaos ensued. The crowd broke, screaming as they ran for what they hoped was safety. Governor Doyle began shouting for the militia to assemble, but it was nearly impossible to manage in this frenzy. I urgently beckoned Nicholas to come up the steps with me.

I didn't know what was happening, but I wasn't going to leave Cedric tied up when a battle was about to start. I ran over to him and sliced his ropes.

“You're okay? You're okay?” I asked, taking in the beloved features.

“Yes—yes.” He touched my cheek briefly and peered around, having the same sentiment as me. “We need to get out of here. Up the north highway—take to the woods.”

Nicholas nodded. “We can get help in the towns there, maybe make it to Archerwood Colony. Their militia's bigger, and they still have some army left.”

We turned for the gallows stairs and found Warren blocking our path. Amazingly, only an hour after being found not guilty, he'd gotten a hold of a gun. “You're not leaving,” he said. “Maybe we're all going to die here, but I'm going to be the one who finishes you.”

I glanced frantically at the approaching Icori. They hadn't attacked, but there'd been no need, with everyone fleeing. The militia had finally started to assemble, but so far, there were only about two dozen.

“Stop this,” I told him. “This isn't the time for a vendetta! You can get away with us. We're going north.”

“Save your own skin,” added Cedric. “You're good at that.”

It wasn't, perhaps, the most tactful comment to use when trying to sway Warren to our side, but I doubted anything would have. A voice suddenly boomed, “Where is the governor?”

We all turned. The Icori had reached the bottom of the platform. There'd still been no sign of attack. They seemed remarkably calm, though those in the group's periphery watched the colonists warily and held their weapons tightly.

Many were painted with blue woad, just like the two Icori we'd met on the road, covered in symbols I didn't know. Women warriors rode along with the men. Copper ornaments and feathers decorated riders and horses, and their woolen tartans made a sea of color. Looking closely, I could see a pattern to it. Several riders to the side wore plaid of red and white. Another cluster wore red and blue. The group in the front wore green and black.

This was the group the speaker was in. He was in front, all tanned muscles and white-blond hair and—

He was the Icori we'd met on the road to Hadisen.

“Where is the governor?” His Osfridian was still clear.

Governor Doyle hesitantly stepped forward. “I'm the governor. You have no business here. Get out before my army beats yours to the ground.” It was a bluff, seeing as the militia had thirty at most by now. I think several had fled.

“We do have business,” the Icori man said. “We've come seeking justice—your help in righting a wrong done to us.” His eyes flicked toward Warren. “I was told we'd need more than two people to have our demands heard. So here we are.”

“You've had no wrongs done to you,” said Governor Doyle. “We've all agreed to the treaties. We've all obeyed them. You have your land, we have ours.”

“Soldiers are moving into our land and attacking our villages—soldiers from the place you call Lorandy.” The Icori man met the governor's gaze unblinkingly. “And your own people are aiding them and letting them cross your territories.”

This caused a nervous stir among our colonists, but Governor Doyle only grew angrier. “Impossible! Lorandians moving into your lands means they would flank ours. No man among us would allow such a thing.”

“Your own son would.”

A new speaker emerged from the Icori, bringing her horse beside the man.

And I knew her.

I hadn't picked Tamsin out right away. Her red hair had blended into theirs, and she was dressed like them too, in a knee-length green dress edged in that plaid. Her hair hung in two long, loose braids intertwined with copper pendants. I'd been stunned when I saw her with the Grashond residents. But this . . . this was enough to make me think I was imagining things.

Her entire presence was calm and composed, very different from the wildly emotional demeanor I associated with her. “Your son and
other traitors are working with the Lorandians to stir up discord and draw Osfrid's army out of the central colonies—so that Hadisen and others can rebel against the crown.”

Warren lowered the gun and came to life beside us. “It's a lie, Father! There's no telling what these savages have brainwashed this girl into believing. What proof does she have for this absurdity?”

“The proof of being thrown off a boat in the middle of a storm when I discovered your plans,” she replied.

“Lies,” said Warren. He took a few steps back, panic filling his face. “This girl is delusional!”

A man suddenly climbed up the stairs. Warren spun around to face this newcomer. It was Grant Elliott, looking particularly bedraggled today, and he didn't seem fazed by any of this. He strolled over beside me and looked as though a halted hanging, an Icori army, and potential traitors were part of an ordinary day for him.