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“Have you something important to say?” I asked the bird.
“Speak with respect,” a cove’s voice snarled. “You’re no better than those treacherous, lying curs at the palace!” My body crawled with gooseflesh. Did this one know sommat useful? “They’ll wish they had kept me soon enough. After all I did for them, they murdered me in my bed!”
My throat seized up for a moment. “So you’re one of the cleaning folk, then?” I asked, my voice as innocent as a welloff child’s. “In the way of knowing the little passages and halls where the servants go—”
“Slut!” the ghost snarled. “Doxy! How dare you speak so to the Lord High Chancellor of Mages!”
I crossed my legs at the ankle easily, turning my face up to the sun. “Any old bogle might say the same, and me with no way to prove it. I can’t see you, after all. Tell me sommat you’ve done recently that I might know of.”
Lazamon of Buckglen wasted time calling me the kind of names given to some of my friends in the Lower City. Finally, when he ran out of terms for whore, I said, “If you want vengeance on your killers, I’m your only chance to get it, traitor.”
He was silent for a moment. I gave his poor bird of burden some more corn. At last he said, “What gives a guttersnipe like you the right to call me anything, let alone ‘traitor’?”
“I’ve just come from the Summer Palace,” I said. “Very nice work, undoing all those spells with no one seeing you at it. And yet your partners decided they could do without you even after that.”
“Spare me your jumped-up moralizing,” he muttered. “You understand nothing of the stakes.” He added bitterly, “Your king wants to regulate mage work! He says we owe a debt of service to the Crown! Well, he’ll soon learn I won’t do as some randy bastard with a title bids. He’ll rue the day he crossed my friends and me!”
I yawned, despite the hammering of my heart when Lazamon spoke of his fellow conspirators. Then I said, “Your friends didn’t value you so high, did they?” I eyed a broken fingernail as if I’d naught better to do. My luck still held. No one had looked to see a Dog conversing with a pigeon. “Give me their names. It will be a fine vengeance on them. You could greet them in the Peaceful Realms once they’ve taken the king’s justice.”
“I’ll not give you names,” the ghost snarled. “You can tell him the misery I have left for him to die on!”
“I thought your talk of vengeance was all smoke,” I replied. “You must be a mage—you’re not enough of a man to avenge your own death.”
“I hate your swiving, childish king more,” Lazamon retorted. “He’ll pay now, and his brood mare. For every lash and blow the child receives, his parents will weaken. Every meal the child does without, the parents will go hungry. It is my finest work, and it cannot be undone, because the maker of it is dead.” He sounded so pleased that I would have killed him myself, had he been alive in front of me then.
“Then you made your own death, snake pizzle,” I whispered. “No wonder they killed you.”
“The problem’s easily enough solved, Guardswoman.” There was a sneering tone in his voice. “Only find the prince and keep him in good condition.” His voice was beginning to fade. “That shouldn’t be so hard, should it?” And he was gone.
“It’s a good thing the Black God has a kinder heart than I have,” I told the spirit as his pigeon took flight. “Shame on you, punishing the child for the deeds of the father!”
The Black God forgives all, it’s said. That’s why he’s a god, I suppose, and why I’m a Dog. I don’t have to try to forgive a lousy, sarden canker blossom like the Chancellor of Mages.
We had to get word of the painful connection between the prince and his parents to Sir Tullus, and Lord Gershom, right away. I looked around for Tunstall and Achoo. They were on the grass, Tunstall having bought a ring toy for her to play with.
“A Birdie, Cooper?” Tunstall asked, throwing the ring for Achoo down the open green. My partner had seen me talk with the pigeon. “Any useful information?”
“Maybe so,” I replied. Keeping in mind that we had to be sure no one was eavesdropping, I added, “A ghost from Corus found me here.” There was a marvel in itself, that he’d found me. “We need to get word to Sir Tullus right off.”
“My arm grows weary in any case,” Tunstall said. When Achoo returned with the ring, he towed her along as she hung on to her half. Pounce chose to walk just ahead, as if to tell passersby he did not know us and did not wish to be associated with us. Tunstall asked, “Did you know they have some types of lavender here that I can’t grow in Corus? And clematis?”
“Did you pick some, so you can plant it when we go home?” I asked.
Tunstall looked as if I had just asked him to take Her Majesty’s favorite pearls. “It’s a public garden, Cooper! If everyone did that, there would be no flowers left!”
I rolled my eyes at him. “I had no idea I was such a vile rusher.”
Tunstall grimaced at me. “You don’t understand gardeners, Cooper, don’t try to deny it. What I’m thinking is that Serenity may be able to get me seeds or clippings. Without stealing.”
“If your tribe’s headman could hear you now,” I told him. “All civilized and proper! Without stealing, indeed!”
“What he doesn’t know won’t give him the gripes.” Tunstall let Achoo have the wooden ring.
When we came to Guards House, the sergeant on desk duty told us Sir Tullus had someone with him. Tunstall hauled his orders out of his inner tunic pocket and pointed to the seals. The sergeant grumbled, but he sent a runner to inquire of Sir Tullus. To his surprise, the lad returned with orders that we were to come to the Deputy Provost right away.
Farmer Cape sat before a small table in front of the desk, wolfing a large plate of food. Seeing us, he raised a hand and waved. Sir Tullus gave the new runner orders for more food and drink not just for Tunstall and me, but for Achoo and Pounce as well. Once the lad had gone, closing the door after him, Sir Tullus said, “I know what brings Master Farmer here, but I thought you were resting up.”
“We were, but Beka took a visit from one of her Birdies,” Tunstall said, taking a seat when Tullus motioned to it. “One that came all the way from Corus.”
“How would Beka’s informants know to look for her here?” Master Farmer asked, wiping his mouth on his handkerchief.
“She doesn’t have the usual sort of Birdie,” Tullus explained. “Beka talks to ghosts, the restless ones that ride pigeon-back.”
I squirmed on my own seat. I didn’t know what to make of the look in Master Farmer’s blue-gray eyes. “I’ve read of such things,” he said at last. “I’d never thought I would meet anyone with such a Gift, though. You have your surprises, don’t you, Guardswoman Cooper?”
“And you don’t, Master Farmer?” I asked. He grinned at me.
Sir Tullus cleared his throat. “So who was this ghost, did it say?”
“He said, right enough,” I replied. Here was the part I’d not told Tunstall, not out in the street. “It was Lazamon of Buckglen.” As they stared at me, horrified to hear the name of the murdered Chancellor of Mages, I told them the rest of it, including the spell that passed the child’s pain and weakness on to his parents.
For a moment after I finished there was silence. Then Master Farmer got to his feet and started feeling inside his belt buckle. Before any of us could ask what in any god’s name he was doing, we heard a click. He brought his hand up. In it was a round mirror the size of his belt buckle. The click must have been the catch that held it to the metal. “Sir Tullus, I need the most magic-proof room you have,” he said. “Lord Gershom has to know right away.”
Sir Tullus led Master Farmer from the room. Tunstall went to Master Farmer’s plate and picked in a bowl of olives beside it. He was saved from scavenging from the plate itself when Tullus’s runner brought a tankard of ale for Tunstall, raspberry twilsey for me, and egg tarts for both of us. We’d eaten half when Sir Tullus returned. He closed his door and
poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle he’d been sharing with Master Farmer, but he did not take his chair. Instead he rested against the edge of his desk before us, staring into his wine.
“What’s happening to the realm?” he asked softly, though he didn’t seem to expect an answer. After a moment he looked at us. “Farmer has orders for you from Gershom.” He sorted through his papers one-handed until he produced a sealed document. He gave it to Tunstall, who opened it and began to read. Sir Tullus continued to speak. “He wants you, Beka, and Master Farmer to wait here while Tunstall goes on to Corus. Tunstall will carry a letter for one of your friends in which you will tell her what to pack for a long Hunt.” I nodded. We’d done this before. Tullus went on, “Tunstall will go on to Corus with your requirements and orders for Sabine of Macayhill to join you. Gershom wants you here because if word comes of the reappearance of those who attacked the palace, he wants you able to pursue instantly, by peregrine ship if need be. Lady Sabine will be useful in the event—in the probability, particularly considering Lazamon’s statement—that you have to deal with the nobility.”
Tunstall handed me the letter, grinning broadly. Of course he would be happy if Lady Sabine was to be with us.
My lord Gershom also wrote that he’d sent messages to the cities and towns on the great rivers that flowed east of the Summer Palace. The Deputy Provost in each was to report any party that included children or slaves under the age of ten to Lord Gershom by magic or fast courier, even pigeons if they had birds for the Summer Palace. We were to go where such parties were reported and Hunt them down. Sir Tullus was to go to Corus to gather other Hunters.
Sir Tullus cleared a place on his desk and set out a sheet of parchment, a reed, and a bottle of ink. “Write your friend,” he ordered me. “I want Tunstall in Corus before dark.”
I wrote to Kora and Aniki. I needed the cuirass that had been too big to pack last time, my weighted gauntlets and baton, and my personal kit of medicines. I had enough uniforms and stockings now for a long Hunt, thanks to Sergeant Axman, but I added three more breast bands and loincloths each to my list.
Master Farmer returned as Sir Tullus was sealing our letters. “I got word to Gershom.” He poured himself ale from the pitcher and settled into his chair once more. “Beka can guess what he said first.”
I had to laugh at that. I knew well the kind of words my lord would use to greet bleak news like this.
“He says he’ll alert Their Majesties, though he feels telling their mages at this point is a bad idea,” Master Farmer continued.
“Does he think their personal mages might be in the plot?” Sir Tullus asked. “Or would Lazamon distrust them, since they give their service to the Crown directly?”
I’d thought of that, and if I’d thought of it, I knew Tunstall had. Master Farmer grimaced. “Gershom understands the problem. He has approved a plan of mine, which I’ve put in motion. I called to my master.”
“Bringing in a stranger?” Sir Tullus asked with a frown. “What if this master is part of the plot?”
Master Farmer picked up what looked to be a tansy cake and rolled it up. He smiled. “Mistress Catfoot is a recluse. She teaches only rarely, and she chooses her own students. I do not believe a conspiracy conducted at the palace level has touched her.”
“Recluse?” Tunstall asked. “Is she any good?”
“She is very good,” Master Farmer replied. “The imperial university rates her as a black robe, one of twelve now living.” He looked at Sir Tullus. “She cares nothing for money or status. She would never take part in a plot that has led to so much danger for the realm.”
“If she cares nothing for money or status, why would she help Their Majesties?” Sir Tullus inquired.
“She loves children,” Master Farmer said with a shrug. “And she likes me. She says I’m not hopeless, at least. She wouldn’t have come if His Majesty were one of those warlike kings, or if civil war were not a possible outcome of all of this.” He stuck the tansy cake in his mouth and chewed vigorously. When he caught me staring, he pointed at his stomach and said, his mouth full, “ ’Ongry.” Once his mouth was empty, he said, “She can protect Their Majesties, as well as they can be protected against such a spell. Better, she can do it without Ironwood and Clavynger being aware she does it.”
“She can’t ward them completely?” Sir Tullus asked, frowning. My belly clenched.
Master Farmer looked at him and at us with something like pity. He could tell we didn’t want to hear that. “The boy is their blood and bone,” he said gently. “Down to the finest vein and last bit of marrow, in every hair and pore, he is both of them. There are countless doors into their bodies through that little one. No mage can block such a spell completely. Lazamon was very skilled.”
“We’re swived,” Tunstall said gloomily.
“No, we’re not,” I said fiercely. If I let Tunstall get into one of his bleak moods, it would take a dreadful great amount of spirits and a dreadful big, furniture-breaking, wall-smashing fight to cheer him up. “Lord Gershom will get word, and we’ll put Achoo on the prince’s trail, and we’ll find the lad and them that took him. We’ll take a lunch to their execution and give Achoo a whole roast for the work she’s done, my word on it.”
Pounce leaped into Tunstall’s lap and slipped a little. From the scream Tunstall let out, I knew Pounce had used his claws to hang on. That’s better, Pounce said so only Tunstall and I could hear. No sulks. I cannot see what lies ahead very far, but you will get your Hunt. Satisfied?
Tunstall sat up immediately. “If you speak so, hestaka, then I am content.” To Sir Tullus and Master Farmer he explained, “We get our Hunt.”
Sir Tullus grinned. “I don’t suppose you will say where to look?” Pounce washed a paw, and the nobleman sighed. “No, you never do,” he remarked. “Very well. Tunstall, you go to Corus, now. The ship’s being held for you. Hurry back as soon as you can with Lady Sabine and all she will need. They will hold a fast ship at the docks for your return.”
Tullus handed the letters to Tunstall. My partner got to his feet and bowed to the Deputy Provost. He looked at me and hesitated, as if he wanted to say something more, then shook his head and left.
Sir Tullus waited for the door to close behind him before he looked at Master Farmer and me. “Cooper, see Master Farmer to your lodgings. His room should be ready by now—I sent a messenger to tell them. Master Farmer, do you need to send word for additional gear of your own?”
Master Farmer stood, grabbing another couple of tansy cakes. “I thank you, no. My lodging is in Blue Harbor, so I had the opportunity to pack more than did Tunstall and Cooper.”
“I know Cooper, but I don’t know you, Master Farmer,” Sir Tullus said, his black eyes serious. “You mages learn to keep secrets, it’s true, but this is a very big one. Don’t get drunk. Don’t fall in love with one of the women of the town and babble. In fact, you should go to bed nice and early. Virtue is a splendid thing.”
Master Farmer saluted Sir Tullus and gave him that idiot’s grin that tasked Tunstall so. I bowed and towed him out of Tullus’s presence before he said aught to annoy the peppery knight.
While Tunstall and I had walked up from the docks the day before, Master Farmer had been granted the courtesy of a wagon. He, Pounce, Achoo, and I climbed in for the ride to Serenity’s. It was quiet, with only Achoo’s challenges, or greetings, I’ve never learned which they were, to other dogs along the way.
Master Farmer stretched out in the bed of the wagon and finished his cakes. “Is there a place where we can get a good meal tonight?” he asked. “I haven’t been here without being too busy to try the eating houses.”
I frowned at him. “Do you ever think of anything but eating?” I asked, feeling cranky.
“I can stop,” he replied, and gave me that silly grin—upside down, because I sat beside the carter. “After I’ve eaten.” He waved at his long body. “Look how much of me there is to feed. My poor old ma had to sell two
of my brothers to manage it.”
“She never,” I told him.
“Oh, right. I didn’t have brothers. But she would have, I was that big of an eater,” Master Farmer assured me.
“Cracknob,” I muttered, turning to face forward again. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the carter grinning.
Quiet was what I needed when we got to Serenity’s. After I introduced Master Farmer to her, I told him I needed to work on my own records and to sleep for a time. He agreed that a rest would do both of us good. Looking at him one last time before Serenity took him upstairs, I realized he was tired. How much magic had he done since I saw him last?
I stepped into the kitchen and released Pounce and Achoo into the rear yard to laze, then went upstairs. I had found a book of maps in Serenity’s sitting room and wanted to study it. That kept me occupied until I took Achoo for a short run. Then we returned for a nap.
I woke when someone rapped on the door. “Who is it?” I called, rubbing my eyes.
