Work Experience (Schooled in Magic Book 4) (37 page)

“Time to get up,” Lady Barb said, mildly. “There’s no shortage of work.”

Emily sat up, running her hands down her shirt and trousers. They felt grimy, but she hadn’t wanted to undress, even behind the privacy ward. Lady Barb stood and walked through the wards, then sat down at the table and started to eat. There was an assumption of superiority about her action that bothered Emily more than she cared to think about, an assumption that was little different from King Randor’s. Sighing, Emily climbed to her feet and joined her. The oatmeal tasted almost flavorless.

“Everyone will be at work in the early hours,” Lady Barb said, as the headman and his wife walked out the door, leaving the two magicians alone. “We won’t hold the trial until at least ten bells.”

Emily glanced at her watch, then nodded. They had three hours, more or less, to prepare.

“Get into your golden robes,” Lady Barb added. “We need to make an impression.”

“I could use a glamor,” Emily suggested. The robes had been buried at the bottom of her bag ever since they’d left Lady Barb’s house. “They’d never know...”

“Put on your robes,” Lady Barb ordered, tartly. “The less deceit we use, the better.”

Emily kept her opinion of that to herself as she washed her face, then found her robes and pulled them over her head. As always, they were scratchy and uncomfortable – and felt very much out of place. Lady Barb’s own robes looked spectacular – the black robe of a combat sorceress set off her blonde hair nicely – and Emily felt a moment of envy, before pushing it aside. She worked her hair into a long ponytail, considering the idea – again – of cutting it short. But somehow she found herself unable to do it.

“I thought they would have children,” she said, as she looked around the hut. Most peasant families lived together, multiple generations sharing the same house. “Or have they kicked them out for us?”

“The headman doesn’t get many benefits from his position,” Lady Barb said. “Having a house that he shares with his wife and no one else is about the best of them.”

Emily nodded, remembering how cramped Imaiqah’s house in Alexis had been. The children were constantly supervised by older members of the family, which didn’t allow them to get into much mischief...while the married sons would be expected to bring their wives to join the extended family. There would be absolutely no privacy for the newcomer – or anyone else, for that matter.

The thought made her sick. She couldn’t have endured such an existence for very long.

“I’m glad I don’t live here,” she said, finally.

“Most people would be,” Lady Barb agreed, dryly. “But just remember that your loyal subjects are largely living in similar conditions.”

Emily nodded.

Now they had prepared the questions, there was almost nothing to do until the trial, so Emily read her way through another book, then talked Lady Barb into a lecture on advanced uses for healing. Lady Barb might be short-tempered teacher, but she did know what she was talking about, something that put her ahead of many of Emily’s teachers on Earth. She listened with rapt fascination and was almost disappointed when the headman finally stuck his head into the house and told them that the trial was ready to begin.

Emily followed Lady Barb out of the house...and then had to fight down the urge to run as the villagers turned to stare. The golden robes shone brightly in the sunlight, drawing their attention like a moth to a flame. Emily gritted her teeth and kept walking, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on Lady Barb’s back. She hadn’t realized how many people there were in the village. It looked as though there were over a hundred men, women and children.

The stage had been set up in the center of the village, with the prisoner – still in the stocks – perched at one edge of the stage. Emily forced herself to follow Lady Barb up onto the stage, wishing she’d taken up the suggestion that she join the dramatics club in Whitehall. It might have made it easier. Even Master Tor’s lessons in public speaking hadn’t made much headway.

“We are gathered here to investigate the accusations made against this prisoner,” Lady Barb said. Her voice was quiet, but she must have used a spell because no one seemed to have any trouble in hearing her. “My apprentice will perform a truth spell, after which we will interrogate the prisoner. Once we have answers, we will know how to treat him.”

A dull rumble passed through the crowd. Most of them must have believed the prisoner was guilty, and hadn’t really thought about what might happen if he were proven innocent. It might cost the village dear if they lost all contact with the outside world. Perhaps the whole affair would be smoothed over, once some compensation was paid. But what did the villagers have that could compensate for attempted murder?

Lady Barb looked up at Emily. “Do it,” she ordered.

Emily swallowed nervously and worked the spell. It took her two tries to get it right. The sheer weight of so many people staring at her was distracting – and terrifying. Magic crackled around her fingertips as she stepped backwards, spell in place. Lady Barb checked her work, nodded and then cast a spell to amplify the man’s voice. Everyone would hear what he had to say, good or bad.

“Tell us,” Lady Barb said. “What is your name?”

For a long moment, the prisoner didn’t answer. Emily wondered, helplessly, if he’d managed to shrug off the spell...or if he was so badly wounded that he wasn’t aware of what was actually going on or he couldn’t talk. Lady Barb touched his forehead, then pulled a bottle of potion out of her robes and pressed it to his lips. The crowd muttered angrily as the prisoner drank the potion, then started to splutter as it worked its magic.

“Healing potion,” Lady Barb said. She looked back at the prisoner. “What is your name?”

“Reginald,” the man croaked. His eyes were sudden alive with life – and terror. He’d been almost completely out of it until he’d drunk the potion. “My name is Reginald.”

“Good,” Lady Barb said. “Why did you come to this village?”

“I had to deliver a letter to one of the peasants here,” Reginald said, between coughs. “He was meant to reply, so I waited for his reply.”

Lady Barb and Emily shared a glance. Who in the village would be receiving letters from
anyone
? The postal system serviced aristocrats and magicians, not commoners. But it wasn’t a question they could ask, not legally. They could only ask about Reginald’s involvement with the missing children.

“Two children are missing from this village,” Lady Barb said. “Did you take them?”

“No,” Reginald said.

“He’s lying,” a female voice shouted. “He took my son!”

Lady Barb glared her into silence, then returned to Reginald. “Did you take any children from this village?”

“No,” Reginald said.

“Good,” Lady Barb said. “What did you do in the village while waiting for your reply?”

“I courted a girl,” Reginald said. For the first time, he seemed shocked at his own words. “I spent time with her.”

Emily had to bit her lip to keep from giggling. On Earth, it would be funny; here, the consequences could be disastrous. The peasants might overlook a little affair like premarital sex if the non-virgin was a boy, but it was different for girls.
They
didn’t have access to spells that could determine parentage, not like the aristocracy, nor did they have any form of workable contraception. It was quite possible that Reginald had impregnated his lover.

She’d need three or four months before they were sure she wasn’t pregnant
, Emily thought, and shivered.
Poor girl.

Lady Barb bounced other questions off him, one by one. No, Reginald had no sexual interest in children. No, Reginald had no interest in young boys or young girls. Sometimes, she rephrased the question in the hopes of closing any loopholes. A handful of catcalls from the crowd suggested that the listeners weren’t too happy with the result. Emily braced herself, silently preparing to cast protective spells. The village had good reason to be worried about the results, now.

“The spells have proven that Reginald was not responsible for the abduction of the children,” Lady Barb said. She looked over at the grieving parents. “I believe that others should be interrogated now.”

The crowd broke down into small clumps, arguing frantically. Some villagers wanted the parents to be interrogated, some thought that was too much and just wanted to bury the whole thing.

Emily felt sick at heart. If she was wrong and the bodies they’d discovered earlier had nothing to do with the missing children, where had the children gone? Their parents might easily have murdered them and then framed Reginald. Or maybe they’d just vanished in the forest.

Lady Barb released Reginald from the stocks, motioning for Emily to heal the rest of the damage the peasants had inflicted. Emily nodded, keeping a wary eye on the arguing crowd as she bent over Reginald and went to work. The damage was worse than she’d guessed; they’d broken several of his ribs when they’d arrested him. One of his arms was badly damaged, perhaps dislocated...she winced in sympathy as she healed it. Lady Barb would need to take a look at him later, she decided. There was so much damage that Emily wasn’t sure she’d managed to repair it all.

“Thank you,” Reginald muttered. His voice was so low that Emily had to strain to hear it. Lady Barb had clearly removed her spell. “I thought...I thought I was dead.”

“Not yet,” Emily said. She recalled, all too clearly, the days she’d been suspected of destroying the Warden. “You’ll be able to ride soon enough.”

The headman’s voice suddenly boomed over the crowd. “We arrested the wrong person,” he said. “We should now consider other possibilities.”

Emily winced, inwardly. Most of the people in the village were related, which meant they had to consider that they might be related to a murderer. Lady Barb motioned and a middle-aged woman, tears streaking down her face, stepped up onto the stage. Emily sensed Lady Barb casting a complex truth spell, then questioning the woman. The mother of the missing boy, it seemed, was completely innocent of his disappearance. So were the other three parents.

“We could question everyone,” Lady Barb muttered to the headman.

He shook his head. Emily wondered, briefly, if
he
was responsible for the missing children, then realized that it was unlikely. The headman wouldn’t risk his position by abducting children.

“It’s a trick,” an older man shouted. “They cast no spell on that...
person
.”

He waved a hand at Reginald. “He did it and they covered for him. They’re working together.”

Lady Barb gave him a long look. “I could have taken Reginald out of the stocks at any moment,” she said, tartly. Emily would not have dared to argue with that tone of voice. “If he had been guilty, you could have killed him and I would have done nothing to stop you. But he is innocent. I will not allow you to kill an innocent man while the real murderer runs and hides.”

Her voice softened, carrying magic. “Calm down,” she ordered. The compulsion hung on the air, utterly undetectable to anyone without magic of their own. “And go home.”

The crowd seethed, but started to slowly disperse. Emily let out a long breath as the danger receded, then concentrated on helping Reginald to his feet. Lady Barb spoke briefly to the headman, who nodded and headed back to his house with his council.

“His horse is in the field,” Lady Barb said. “I’ll have it brought around.”

“Thank you,” Reginald said. “They would have killed me.”

“Yes, they would,” Lady Barb said. “You might want to consider taking your girlfriend with you. She won’t be safe here.”

Reginald swallowed. Emily read reluctance in his eyes. From his point of view, the girl had been nothing more than a diversion; from hers, perhaps he’d been the man who would take her away from the village. Emily could understand her desire to escape; if she stayed, she’d marry someone she knew all her life and move into his house along with his parents, trading one form of imprisonment for another. And if she didn’t have magic, she wouldn’t be able to escape to Whitehall or another magical school.

“Just make sure you don’t drop her somewhere,” Emily added. “If you take her, take care of her.”

Lady Barb nodded. “Who in this village received a letter?”

Emily winced. It wasn’t something she could legally ask, while Reginald had been under the influence of her spell, but now here was no guarantee of receiving a honest answer.

“One of the older villagers used to be a soldier,” Reginald said. “He worked for Lord Easter before he died. I was charged with taking him a letter, then taking back a reply. But then...”

He shrugged, expressively.

“I’ll write you a letter,” Lady Barb said. “Once you’ve delivered the reply, take it down to the nearest carriage house and get it on its way.”

“Of course,” Reginald said. “Anything for my saviors.”

Lady Barb dismissed him, then led the way back to the headman’s house. “Unless the village is housing a child-killer, we have to assume it was the work of the necromancer,” she said, casting a privacy ward around them. “But if the dead bodies we found didn’t come from here...”

“Then other children have gone missing,” Emily finished, remembering the rumors. “Could...?”

She hesitated. There were possibilities she didn’t want to think about, but there was no choice. “Could there be another use for the children?”

Lady Barb looked at her. “Like what?”

“Shadye wanted to sacrifice me,” Emily reminded her. Shadye could have killed her at once if all he’d wanted was another victim to feed his lust for power. “Could the necromancer have decided to sacrifice the children instead?”

Another idea occurred to her. “Or...were they drained of life energy instead of magic?”

“No way to tell,” Lady Barb said. She sounded disturbed by the prospect. “A sacrifice should have left traces of demonic magic, but there were so many obfuscating charms around the bodies that I couldn’t detect anything specific. Life energy...”

Emily frowned. “What would the bodies look like if they were drained of life energy?”