The Innocent Mage (7 page)

Fane. Her Royal Highness the Princess Fane. Prince Gar’s younger, only sister. A prodigious magical talent, so the gossips down at the Goose said, and the king’s undisputed heir. Beautiful, too. Asher had never met her, or seen her even. He wriggled a little on his seat to get a glimpse.

‘It can’t wait!’ retorted Princess Fane. Mounted on a panting sweaty brown pony, dust marring her rose silk tunic and crimson leather leggings, her annoyed face was almost level with her brother’s. ‘Do you think I’d have galloped all this way like a madwoman on some servant’s inferior plug if it was something that could wait?’

‘You gallop everywhere like a madwoman, Fane,’ the prince replied, sighing. ‘On anything with four legs. Why should this time be any different?’

They looked eerily alike, the princess and her brother. Slender. Fair, even for Doranen. The same elegant eyebrows, the same straight nose, moulded lips, firm chin. Her eyes were blue, though, her lashes extravagantly long and darkened with something. She was exquisite, fust like the gossips had said. But that beauty was marred now with temper; her grip on the reins was so tight the pony’s lips had curled back and its eyes were rolling in protest.

‘Just be quiet and listen!’ she snapped. ‘I absolutely must have that copy of Trevoyle’s Legacy you borrowed from Durm. I’m being examined on the Schism the day after tomorrow and —’

‘I told you this morning, Fane, I returned it to the Master Magician last week.’

‘He says he doesn’t have it.’

‘Then I don’t know what to tell you.’

The pony grunted as Her Highness bounced in tk saddle. ‘Gar\ You were the last one to see it. There isn’t another complete copy of that text in all the kingdom and I need it! Do you want me to fail my examination?’

‘What I want, Fane, is for you to go away. I’m due at Justice Hall and I can’t be late. Have you tried a seeking spell?’

The princess’s cheeks flushed. ‘Yes, I tried a seeking spell’

‘Oh.’ Her brother bit back an unwise smile. ‘Well. Even I know they’re unreliable. Why not ask Mama? She’s tk best in the kingdom when it comes to finding lost objects.’

‘Mama is locked up all day with a bunch of stupid women talking about stupid things like flower fetes!’

‘Can’t Durm do a seeking spell for you? Or Father?’

The princess’s blush deepened. ‘Durm won’t, and he’s told Father not to either. I’m supposed to find it for myself.’

‘Well,’ said the prince, one hand on the windowpant ready to push it closed again, ‘let me know how you get on. I certainly wish you luck. And now I’m leaving. Goodbye.’

Ignoring her outraged shriek he shoved the window shut, then tugged on a short blue bell-rope overhead. There came a musical jangling, the sound of a whip cracking, then the carriage rocked gently and rolled forward as the harnessed horses sprang into their knee-snapping trot.

‘My sister,’ said the prince as they continued on their way. ‘Princess Fane.’

Asher nodded. ‘I figured as much.’

Arms folded over his chest, the prince considered him broodingly. ‘Do you have a sister?’

‘No. Brothers.’

‘How many?’

‘Six.’

‘Six}’ the prince said, startled. Then he relaxed. ‘Of course. The restrictions don’t apply to the fishing community,’ He shook his head. ‘Six brothers. I can’t imagine it. Do you miss them?’

Asher was hard-put not to laugh out loud. ‘Not at all. Sir.’

The prince looked surprised. ‘No?’

‘We don’t get along.’

‘Really? Why not?’

Asher scowled. Nearly said, Prob’ly the same reason you can’t stand your sister, but thought better of it. Prob’ly that’d be a good way to get tossed out of the carriage on his arse.

‘Lots of reasons,’ he said instead, shrugging. ‘They reckoned six brothers in the family was enough. Split a business six ways and you ain’t lookin’ at much on your plate. Split it seven and it be that much less. And I were a bit sickly as a spratling. Made Ma soft on me. Da, too.’

‘You don’t look sickly now.’

‘I ain’t,’ said Asher. ‘I be strong as an ox now. Just I had fevers and the trembles when I were little. My brothers never had a day sick between ‘em. Thought I was makin’ it up. I weren’t … but they’d never believe it. And they didn’t much care for the cossetin’ I got, when they never did.’

The prince nodded. ‘That seems unfair. I’m sorry.’

Another shrug. ‘Don’t matter. That’s them and here’s me and there’s an end to it.’

‘Indeed,’ the prince said briskly. ‘Now tell me, Asher, how familiar are you with our kingdom’s laws?’ He grinned. ‘You must know something of them, since you were so certain before that you’d not broken any.’

‘Well,’ said Asher cautiously, ‘I s’pose that depends on what you mean by “familiar”.’

The prince waved an impatient, dismissive hand. ‘Oh, never mind. Just pin your ears back and listen while I explain what you should know before we reach Justice Hall. You’ll find the whole experience much more interesting if you have a vague idea of what’s going on.’

Asher swallowed a sigh. Justice Hall interesting? Not bloody likely. But he’d better not say so; like it or not this folderol princeling was the source of his twenty-five weekl; trins. Only a fool would risk the loss of such bounty.

And Da’s little boy Asher might be a lot of things, but a fool weren’t one of them.

Justice Hall sat cheek by jowl between Dorana City’s public Barl’s Chapel and the City Guardhouse. Togethei, the three impressive buildings made up one entire side oi the central market square. A typically tall Doranen building, with walls of pale cream sandstone and roof tiles of blue clay, Justice Hall’s narrow window frames housed panels of stained glass in every colour magic could imagine. Each panel depicted a momentous event in the kingdom’s history: the coming of the Doranen, the holy covenant between the Olken and Doranen peoples, Barl’s great sacrifice, the horrors of. Trevoyle’s Schism, the Healing Treaty’s signing on the place where now bubbled Supplicant’s Fountain.

The Hall’s enormous oak front doors were bound and studded in polished brass and flanked either side with a sculptured relief. On the left stood blessed Barl, smiling benevolently down on those who entered seeking justice. On the right hung an unsheathed sword, reminding justice seekers that the truth cut two ways … and that the penalty for wrongdoing was both swift and merciless.

Asher had barely noticed the building on his first day in the City. He’d been too busy looking for work and then, amazingly, finding it. On one of his early days off he’d stood on Justice Hall’s sandstone steps and marvelled at the place, listening to Dathne explain what each carving and stained-glass panel meant, but he’d felt no need to go inside.

Yet now here he was, riding in a fancy royal carriage on his way to doing just that. And he still didn’t know why.

The.prince said, ‘Asher! Are you listening?’

Asher jerked his wandering attention back to the present. ‘Aye. Sir. Of course.’

‘Good. Now, you’re perfectly clear on the differences between Olken and Doranen legal jurisdictions, are you? You wouldn’t like me to run through them again? Only once we’re in the Hall I’ll have to leave you to your own devices.’

‘No, sir. Reckon I got it straight,’ said Asher. It took an effort to keep his teeth ungritted. Did the prince think he was a knucklehead? ‘All criminal and civil matters Olken to Olken, up to and including malice and grievous damage inflicted with intent, stay in the Olken district courts. Any charge higher than that, like murder — not that we wander about killin’ each other much — goes to the Olken central court.’ He pointed out of the carriage window. ‘That’s over yonder, three streets behind the Grand Theatre, on the other side of the square. Next door to the City Library.’

‘Indeed it is,’ agreed the prince. ‘Visit the library often, do you?’

‘No. Leastways not for me. Picked up a book for Dathne once or twice.’ He sniffed. ‘Don’t see what she’s wantin’ borrowed books for. Got enough for sale in that shop of hers, ain’t she?’

‘Some knowledge is priceless,’ said the prince. ‘And must be made available to anyone who desires it, regardless of their personal wealth. Or its lack. Go on. That’s the Golden Cockerel Hotel we’ve just passed. We’re nearly there.’

Asher strangled a groan. When was he ever going to need to know about the law? This was such a load of bollocks …

‘All civil and criminal matters Doranen to Doranen get judged at Justice Hall, before the Master Magician,’ he recited dutifully, ‘along with any branglin’ between Olken and Doranen, no matter where they live. Any civil or criminal matters Olken to Olken what can’t be sorted between ourselves go to Justice Hall, and you decide.’

‘Which is why we’re going there today,’ said the prince. ‘Exactly. And cardinal crimes?’

Asher shuddered. There’d been no cardinal crime committed in Lur for years. You had to go back to when his long-dead great-grandpa was a spratling for the last one.

But that wasn’t so odd. No fool in his right mind, Olken or Doranen, went about committing cardinal crimes. Not it he wanted to keep on breathing, any road.

‘All cardinal crimes are tried before the king,’ he said as the carriage slowed and turned into a side street off the main market road. ‘Or queen. Whichever it is. And their Privy Council. Whether the trial be made public or not depends on circumstances.’

The prince was staring at him. ‘Remarkable.’

‘What?’ said Asher. ‘That I got a good memory? No it ain’t. Your Highness. My ma, Barl save her, she had herself a memory twice as nimble as mine.’

The carriage drew to a halt. As waiting attendants hurried to stand by the horses’ heads and open the doors, the prince said, frowning, ‘Your mother is dead? I’m sorry,’

Asher shrugged. ‘Happened a long time ago. Reckon I’m past grievin’ now.’ Then, because that felt disloyal, lie added, ‘Not that I don’t miss her, like. Just … you get used to it, I s’pose. Sir. I mean, what other choice is there?’

The prince nodded. ‘So, you’re a practical man, Asher of Restharven.’

‘Practical be my middle name.’ Asher gestured at the open carriage door. ‘After you, sir.’

The rear of Justice Hall was, in its own way, as imposing as the front. There was a stable block to house the horses and carriages of those involved in the proceedings, complete with liveried Olken staff to take care of them. There were three separate entrances to the Hall, each with its own set of steps, each barricaded by its own pair of uniformed Olken City Guards. There were neat gardens, trimmed trees, and an ominously well-trodden path leading into the grounds of the guardhouse next door. Another path led in the opposite direction, towards the public chapel. Despite its location in the heart of the City, the atmosphere was hushed. Reverent, almost. As though the weighty matters decided inside the Hall discouraged unmannerly noise outside.

After greeting the various staff by name, and receiving smiles and greetings in return, the prince headed towards the Hall’s middle entrance. Asher trailed in his wake, feeling like a barnacle in a bed of roses. The surprised, curious stares of the stable hands and guards burned his back. He knew that as soon as he was out of sight they’d be whispering.

Well, let ‘em whisper.

The chosen entrance’s decorative wooden surround was painted in crimson and gold. Above the lintel sat a carved relief of the WeatherWorker’s crown, embossed with gold and silver leaf and set with chips of ruby and diamond. As the prince approached, the door’s guards rapped their ceremonial pikes smartly on the ground and stood aside. The prince nodded and smiled and Asher followed him, into the cool splendour of Justice Hall.

As they passed from sunlight to illuminated shadow his first impression was one of space. The floor, empty of furniture, was tiled in green and gold, with an enormous mosaic of an unsheathed sword in the middle. Gold-framed paintings covered the sandstone walls; past trials, Asher guessed, seeing as how there was a crowned and robed king or queen in each, and somebody smiling, and somebody else in chains, surrounded by guards and looking like their best boat had just sunk. There were two wooden staircases against the back wall, leading up to crimson velvet curtains, each one door-shaped. Between them, set into the rear wall, was a single wooden door. There were two more in each of the side walls. As the prince crossed over the mosaic sword one of the right-hand doors opened and a Doranen woman emerged. She was middle-aged, smothered in sombre blue silk and brocade.

‘Your Highness,’ she said in a soft, calm voice, and offered a small bow. ‘Both parties, complete with speakers and witnesses, have arrived and await your adjudication.’

‘Excellent.’ The prince turned to Asher who was hovering in the background. ‘Marnagh, this is Asher. Hell be observing the proceedings today. Could you find him an inconspicuous chair in the Royal Gallery?’

Marnagh swept Asher up and down with a single shrewd look. Whatever she thought of him stayed locked tight behind her pale grey eyes. ‘Of course, Yout Highness.’

‘Asher.’

Asher stepped forward, hands clasped tight behind his back. ‘Your Highness?’

‘This is Lady Marnagh. She keeps order in Justice Hall, Without her we’d all be hopelessly lost and I wouldn’t look half as wise as I do, or know a quarter as much about the law.’

Marnagh laughed. ‘Your Highness is too kind.’

‘Better that than too green, which is what I was scant months ago. And don’t bother trying to deny it.’

Asher managed an awkward bow. ‘Lady Marnagh.’

She acknowledged him with a nod that made him feel six years old again. He scowled. She smiled.

The prince started for the staircase on the right. ‘I must prepare for today’s session, so I’ll leave you in the Lady Marnagh’s capable hands, Asher. If there’s anything you need to know, she’ll tell you.’

‘Aye, sir,’ said Asher, and watched him run up the staircase and disappear behind the crimson curtain. ‘I don’t bloody believe it,’ he muttered. ‘He’s gone and done it again.’

‘Done what?’ asked Lady Marnagh mildly.

‘Dropped me in it, then left me in the clutches of some woman I don’t know!’ said Asher, unthinking.

‘Indeed?’ said Lady Marnagh. ‘Well, if that’s the worst thing royalty ever does to you, young man, I’d be eternally grateful!’