The Innocent Mage (9 page)

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Authors: Karen Miller

Tags: #Magic, #Science Fiction, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Adventure, #Epic

BOOK: The Innocent Mage
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‘This hearing will pause while I withdraw and considt the charges and evidence laid before me,’ announced I prince. ‘Due to the sensitive matters raised this afterno the City Guards will prevent the withdrawal of any persoi| here attending, until my judgement is rendered.’ Taking t hammer, he struck it against the golden bell three times.

On cue, the guards on either side of the Hall’s double! doors took two steps towards each other and extended theirj arms. There was a thunk of iron against iron as their ; met in a cross between them. The exit was barred.

Asher grimaced. The way things were going, there’d bea whole lot of folks sitting with their legs crossed before this day was done.

Lady Marnagh, released from monitoring the magically recorded proceedings, pushed her chair back and stood. In response, everyone followed suit. Once the last man had found his feet the prince stepped down from his dais. As the platform lifted him to seclusion, Asher whooshed his lungs empty of air and sagged in his seat.

Well, sink him bloody sideways. If anyone had told him an afternoon in Justice Hall could be exciting, he’d have laughed.

Abruptly tired of sitting, he leapt up and marched the length of the gallery, arms swinging. Below, the hearing’s captive attendees buzzed like bees in a stick-poked hive. A wise decision, to keep them penned until a judgement was reached. They’d be off and prattling on this in a heartbeat, given half a chance, embroidering and embellishing the plain facts like a pack of ole biddies in a sewing circle.

‘Well?’ said the prince’s cool voice behind him. ‘What do you think so far?’

Asher turned. ‘What are you doin’ here, sir? Ain’t you s’posed to be cogitatin’ your decision?’

The prince considered him, the faintest of smiles warming his eyes. He was still draped in the gold and crimson robe, but the heavy crown had been set aside.

‘You’re not in the least bit in awe of me, are you? Even now.’

Fidgeting, suspicious, Asher said, ‘Is that another way of sayin’ I’m rude? Sir?’

‘Not … exactly. Perhaps forthright would be a better word. Or independent.’

‘I don’t know about that. I was just surprised to see you, is all.’

The prince nodded. ‘I’m here because I’m interested in your opinion of how I should rule in this matter.’

Heedless of protocol, Asher dropped into the nearest chair. It was that or fall down completely. ‘My opinion?’

‘Yes.’ If the prince cared that Asher sat while he was standing, he didn’t say so. ‘Why should I believe Mistress Raite over her cousin Meister Brenin?’

‘Aside from the fact he’s a fartin’ fool, y’mean?’ said Asher, grinning. ‘And not a one of his fine friends’ll stand up for him?’ When the prince’s grave expression didn’t alter he sobered, and tried to think of a sensible answer. ‘Well … he’s rich, and he reckons that makes him better than folk who ain’t. He used drinkin’ and sportin’ with the Magister to do down a woman who nigh on killed herself, I reckon, lookin’ after his da, when his da should’ve been his concern, and he disrespected his da’s wishes when he did it.’ He snorted. ‘Just to snatch back two hundred trins, which from the sound of it would mean nowt to him, and all to her.’

‘I see,’ said the prince, nodding. ‘So even if he were in the right, and she were in the wrong, it wouldn’t matter because he’s rich and he’ll never miss two hundred trins?’

‘I never said that,’ Asher protested. ‘Don’t you go puttin’ words in my mouth. Sir. Point I’m tryin’ to make here is he’s mean, as well as twisty.’

‘Twisty?’

‘He turned the law into a pair of hobnailed boots, ans then he kicked her with ‘em,’ said Asher slowly, scowling with concentration. ‘That ain’t what it’s for. The law’s foi helpin’ folks do the right thing by each other, so’s we can aii live side by side without bangin’ each other in the shins ova piddlin’ trifles. Or takin’ what ain’t ours just ‘cause we want it. And if it can be bought for the price of a wine barrel, it ain’t worth nowt at all.’

‘Then if not the price of a wine barrel, Asher, what! What monetary value can we assign to the law?’

‘Well … y’can’t,’ said Asher. ‘The law’s priceless. That be the whole point of it. I thought. Sir.’

The prince took a moment to adjust the folds of his robe, Then, as he turned to leave, he said, ‘This business shouldtf take much longer. You’ll be home in time for supper.’

‘Oh,’ said Asher, bemused. ‘Aye. Right. That’s good, s Sir? What —’

But the prince was gone.

‘Sink the bloody man,’ muttered Asher, and jumped up to resume his pacing.

He’d marched there and back along the gallery five more times when the prince, once again wearing the crown, returned to the Hall and the hearing continued. After thanking the audience for their forbearance, the prince declared himself ready to render judgement. Mistress Raite and her cousin Meister Brenin stood and waited. The Hall was so silent Asher could hear a trapped fly battering at a nearby window, and voices in the street outside.

Judgement, said the prince sternly, fell in favour of Mistress Raite of Deephollow Vale. She was free to leave the City with her good name intact; all findings previously rendered against her were expunged, and fines made void. The bequest of two hundred trins accepted in good faith would be restored to her forthwith.

As for Meister Brenin, he was to remain in Dorana, in the custody of the guardhouse, while further investigations into matters arising from this hearing were undertaken. He could expect charges to be laid against him in due course. A summons for his friend the District Magister was even now on its way to Tolton-by-the-Marsh; they would-be sharing a cell by sunset tomorrow.

The golden bell rang out three times. And that was that.

The prince withdrew to his private gallery. His departure released every trapped tongue in the Hall. As a score of excited conversations dinned the air, two guards took possession of a shocked and silent Meister Brenin. Mistress Raite took a step towards him, hands outstretched, face creased with concern. Her cousin’s soundless snarl scurried her to the shelter of her companion’s arm — husband for sure, Asher thought — and the congratulations of her witnesses and friends. Meister Brenin was escorted from the Hall through the door in the wall behind the dais.

Lady Marnagh approached Mistress Raite and her husband. After a brief conversation they followed her through the same door. A moment later a young Olken man entered, retrieved the official record from the small table, and left again. With the Hall’s double doors once more unbarred and open, the still excited, still voluble crowd of onlookers dribbled out. The doors were closed behind them, and the remaining City Guards left through the door that had swallowed their fellows.

Asher was alone.

He waited. When nobody came to collect him from the gallery, he made his own way back behind the red velvet curtain and down the wooden stairs to the rear of the Hall. There he found the prince in deep and solemn conversation with Lady Marnagh. Both had removed their ceremonial robes. The prince glanced at him, held up a finger, and continued talking. Asher couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Eventually he finished. Lady Marnagh nodded, bowd and without so much as a glance in Asher’s direction returned to the room she’d been in when he and the prim arrived. The door thumped shut behind her.

‘Home,’ said the prince. He looked tired.

The carriage was waiting for them. Sunk in though, scowling out of the window as it carried them back to the Tower, Asher was only reminded of the prince’s present when his employer cleared his throat and said, ‘Well?’

He sounded amused. Startled, Asher pulled his gaj away from the passing faces and buildings. ‘Sir?’

‘Do you agree with my decision or not?’

Feeling suddenly cautious, Asher examined his knees. ‘Don’t reckon it be for me to agree or disagree.’

‘Asher!’ The prince appeared shocked. ‘Please, don’t go getting shy on me now.’

‘Shy? I ain’t shy. I just reckon there’s one of us in this! carriage as shovels shit for a livin’ and there’s another what wears a crown in Justice Hall, and last time I looked I didn’t see no crown in my boot-box.’

‘That doesn’t mean you’re not possessed of an opinion,’ the prince replied. ‘I’d like to hear it.’

Perplexed, exasperated, Asher sat back and stared. ‘And I’d like to know what’s got you so interested in the opinions of a fisherman stable hand. Sir.’

The prince grinned. ‘That’s more like it. I’ll tell you what. You answer my question and I’ll answer yours, Fair?’

‘Fair,’ Asher said grudgingly. ‘Right then. My opinion, for what it be worth, is it were right to find in Mistress Raite’s favour.’

‘But?’

‘But I don’t know why you said she were to get the two hundred trins and nowt more. That miserable bloody cousin of hers be a rich bastard, and where he’s goin’ he won’t be needin’ a pile of money. Not to mention he caused her a right load of heartache, one way and another. Reckon he should be punished for that.’

‘And he will be,’ the prince said quietly. ‘Meister Brenin and his friend the Magister conspired to pervert the course of Barl’s Justice. I promise you, Asher, when this is over they’ll be sorry they ever met.’

‘So where’s the harm in makin’ him give her more than fethe two hundred trins? That sort needs punchin’ in the fpurse, if you reckon to drive the message right home. I i know. We got one just like him back in Restharven.’

The prince sighed. ‘Remember what you said about the law being priceless? It’s the same with justice. The uncle wanted his niece to receive two hundred trins. The cousin took that money away, and I restored it to her. I also restored her good name in the eyes of the kingdom. That is justice. But to give her more than that would be to flout her uncle’s expressed desire. Worse. It would be to say there is money to be made in defending Barl’s Laws. I can’t condone or encourage that. The Laws must be honoured and upheld because it’s right to do so, not profitable.’ ‘Huh,’ said Asher. ‘Good point, that.’ Tm glad you agree.’ The prince sounded sincere. Pleased, and determined not to show it, Asher shrugged. ‘Still reckon it be a right shame you didn’t get to kick ‘im in the purse strings, though.’

‘Yes, I imagine it would’ve been fun,’ the prince said gravely.

Asher glared. Was that a joke at his expense? The prince’s expression was politely patient, so … prob’ly not. He grunted. ‘All right. I answered your question. Now you can answer mine. Sir.’

‘Why do I care so much about your opinions?’

‘Aye.’

The prince looked out of the carriage window. They’d turned into the palace grounds. The Tower wasn’t far away. Reaching up, he tugged on a red cord dangling above his head beside the blue bell-rope. A hinged tj fell open.

‘Matcher?’ the prince called through it.

From above them, the coachman’s startled voice ‘Your Highness? Is owt wrong, sir?’

‘No, nothing. But you can stop the carnage here and us out. We’ll walk to the Tower.’

‘Right you are, sir,’ said the invisible Matcher.

‘Walk?’ said Asher, scandalised. ‘Why? It’ll take foreve; and I got chores —’

The prince closed the ceiling flap. ‘No, you haven’t. I toJd you, Matt knows you’re with me. Are you suggesting tie’]? presume to tell me I can’t borrow one of my own employees!’

‘No, but —’

‘Then that’s all right, isn’t it?’

The carriage slowed to a halt. The prince opened the door and stepped down, Asher at his heels, then closed it and thumped on the side with his fist. ‘Off you go, Matcher!’ As the carriage pulled away, he turned to Asher and grinned. ‘That’s better. We’ll have time to finish out conversation now.’

He started walking. Asher stared after him, dumbfounded. He was beginning to think he had no idea who this man really was. In the market square, the day they met, he’d been … almost an equal. In Justice Hall, dressed in all that legal finery, weighed down by the solid goldj crown and duty, the prince had been remote and: unreachable. Stern. Frightening, almost. Had seemed years and years older. Now, whistling his way into the distance, he seemed as young and foolhardy as Jed.

Regular folk picked ‘emselves a person to be and stuck with that. Trust royalty to be different.

Huffing in annoyance he undid a couple more shirt buttons and rolled up his sleeves. Then he jogged after the prince, caught him up, and fell into step beside him along the crushed and pounded blue gravel road that led straight to the palace. The wide thoroughfare was lined both sides with statuesque djelba trees. Their branches met overhead in a dappling canopy. Waxy pink blossoms the size of dinner plates soaked the cooling dusk air in sweetness.

‘I’ll start,’ said the prince, as though they’d never stopped talking, ‘by answering your question with a question of my own. How would you like to work for me, Asher?’

Asher glanced at him sideways. T am workin’ for you.’ ‘Indirectly, yes. Directly, you work for Matt. I want to know if you’d be willing to work for me. With me. As my assistant.’

‘Assistant to what?’

‘The announcement has yet to be made public, and I expect you to hold your tongue until it is, but His Majesty has appointed me the kingdom’s first Olken Administrator. In many ways, it’s just a formality. Practically speaking, I’ve been fulfilling the position’s duties for nearly a year. Ever since my majority. Until now they’ve been tasks traditionally performed by the reigning monarch, so I’ve been performing them in His Majesty’s name. In a nutshell, it means I attend to matters of concern that touch both our peoples, wherever they arise throughout the kingdom. It’s like being a living bridge between Doranen and Olken. The title “Olken Administrator” may be new, but the work itself began the day Barl and my ancestors came over the mountains and into this land.’

‘Oh,’ said Asher cautiously. ‘Sounds like a bloody big job, sir. Why don’t the king want it?’

‘“Want” has nothing to do with it,’ the prince snapped. ‘It’s a question of how best can His Majesty’s resources be used for the good of the kingdom. He is consumed by the WeatherWorking. My sister studies night and day to become his worthy successor. Her Majesty and the Master Magician also have their duties, with no time to spare for extra burdens, whereas I —’

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