Cold Magics (14 page)

I must also tell you that the Church of the High Father has taken an interest in me again. They accused me of witchcraft and arrested me, in direct violation of the king’s law. I would still be imprisoned had Henry not obtained a writ from the chancellor demanding my release. The church has also threatened to arrest George and Eileen, who are not immune from their laws. Lionel has agreed that they should go north as well, to avoid trouble while the matter is resolved.

George and Eileen will remain safely at the castle in Frostmire, and well away from any danger. I will be with Henry’s army, and from the men I have met, I believe that I will be as safe as possible under the circumstances.

I love you all, and will return to my studies as soon as I can.

Your son, Thomas

The letter didn’t say half of what Thomas wanted, but it was as good as he was going to manage. He signed it, sealed it, and put it in the middle of the table, along with the letter Henry had written for him. Eileen set her own letter in, and George’s soon followed.

“Now what?” asked Eileen.

“I don’t know,” said Thomas. “We wait, I suppose.”

They found a servant and Thomas asked for the best room to while away an afternoon. They were led to a large parlour, with a cheerful blaze in the fireplace and large windows letting in light. There were decks of cards, chess boards, and a dozen other games. George immediately went for the cards, and the three were settled down around one of the tables when Lionel came in.

“Everything written?” he asked.

“Aye,” said Thomas. “Will you join us?”

“I’ll not,” said Lionel. “And after this hand, I’d like to talk to you.”

“Easy enough,” said Thomas, laying down his hand. “I’m not going to win, anyway.”

“Drat,” said Eileen, tossing down her own cards. “I was.”

George looked at his sister’s cards then laid down his own. “Aye, you were.”

Lionel moved to one of the big chairs by the fire, and Thomas sat down in another. Lionel stared at him for a bit, then shook his head.

“I don’t understand, lad. How in the name of the Four did you end up like this?”

So Thomas told the story, from his first meeting with Bishop Malloy in John Flarety’s office to the bishop’s death. It was a fair time in the telling, with George and Eileen adding in details and Lionel asking a great number of questions. Henry joined them just as Thomas was finishing the tale.

Henry was resplendent in black velvet breeches and long jacket, with an equally black cloak, shot through with threads of silver and held on by a silver clasp in the shape of a wolf. His hat was crushed black velvet, with three long white feathers coming out of it. In his hand he held a sheaf of papers. Sir Lawrence, looking slightly less splendid in black wool, followed on Henry’s heels. Behind them came both barons and the entire troupe of knights.

“My apologies,” said Henry to Lionel. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting all day, but his Majesty is difficult to see and the archbishop even more so.”

“You saw the archbishop?” said Thomas, rising to look at the papers. Three bore the Royal seal; one, the seal of the Church of the High Father.

“I needed papers for Lionel,” said Henry, handing Lionel a thick letter with the seal of the church on it. “From his Eminence, informing all members of the church—including all priests, guards and laity—that you are to travel unmolested home, and that no ill will is to be borne, nor actions to be taken against you or your wife.”

Lionel stood up. “What about my children?”

Henry’s lips twisted into a tight, bitter smile. “While his Eminence claims the church has no immediate plans for them, he says he will not offer the protection of the church to those complicit in the death of a bishop.”

“So they can’t come with me.”

“I’m afraid not, Lionel. I’m sorry.”

“What about the rest of the papers?” asked Thomas. “What are they?”

“Edicts explaining that you, Eileen and George have been commanded to serve your country by order of the king, and acknowledging your gracious contribution to its safety,” said Henry. “I thought they might ease your parents’ minds somewhat, and perhaps earn you a little forgiveness when you get home. There’s one in each of your names.” He looked at Lionel. “Would be willing to carry them back to Elmvale?”

Lionel nodded. “Did the king give you men?”

“Two hundred,” said Henry. “Enough to help, if any of them can actually fight. We’ve hired five hundred mercenaries as well.”

“How many students?” asked Thomas.

“Twenty-three, all told. All over sixteen and all familiar with a sword.
”

“Not many.”

“Close to two hundred volunteered,” said Henry. “The fencing master took them through their paces and we got what survived.”

“So, how do we get out of here intact?” asked Thomas.

“The same way their father is,” said Henry, gesturing at Eileen and George. “Water. Our ship sails with the tide tomorrow morning. It will take us as far north as Weaversland, then we’ll take horse and ride for Frostmire.”

“Tomorrow?” said George. He sighed. “Well, it was too good to last.”

“Just as well,” said Eileen. “You were starting to get fat.”

“Aye,” agreed George, looking at his stomach, sounding wistful. “I was.”

Lionel looked from one to the other, then back at Henry. “You’ll take care of them?”

“The best I can,” said Henry. “My word. Your boat leaves in an hour.”

Lionel nodded. “I’ll get my things.”

Thomas watched the man walk out of the room, his big back hunched and one arm coming up to swipe a sleeve across his eyes.

“We should pack,” said George, wiping at his own face.

“I don’t have anything to pack,” said Thomas. “The church guards destroyed it all.”

“Well, I managed to save all our things,” said George. “Took them with us while we went to the healer.”

“And I’ve got your sword,” said Eileen. “And your dagger.”

“You’ll all need new kit before you go north,” said Henry. “We’ll pick it up in Weaversland. The staff can scrounge enough clothes to keep Thomas warm in the meanwhile.”

Henry led them out into the front hall, and it was not long before Lionel came down the stairs, his bag over his shoulder. His face was set and solid, his shoulders hunched, and his hands restlessly opening and closing.

Eileen went to her father first as he came down the stairs, and hugged him long and hard. He embraced her just as hard, and whispered something Thomas didn’t catch into her ear. She shook her head and wiped at her face.

George embraced his father when the man reached the door. Lionel hugged his son almost as long as he had his daughter, and when he broke apart said, “Take care of her.”

George nodded, stepped away.

“Lionel,” Thomas began, then found that he had no words at all. “My father doesn’t know, Lionel.” He looked at the knights. “About the matter we discussed.”

“And what should I tell him, then?” asked Lionel. “How do I explain?”

“Don’t,” said Thomas. “Tell him that the letters Henry and I wrote and the king’s edict explain it all.” Thomas sighed. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I didn’t want George or Eileen involved.”

“Aye, well, they are,” said Lionel. “You just keep them safe, you hear?”

“I hear,” said Thomas. “I’ll bring them back to you as soon as I can.”

“You do that, lad,” said Lionel. “And keep yourself safe, too.”

Lionel took another look at his children, then at Henry. “Let’s go, then.”

Henry had four knights lead Lionel out. Thomas and his friends watched them mount their horses and move away at a walk before the servants closed the door to keep out the wind.

“This was a lot easier last time,” said Eileen, swiping at her face, “when we all just had to run away.”

“Aye, it was,” said George, he put one arm around Eileen’s shoulders and hugged her. “No easier on them, though.” He looked to Thomas. “Have you ever been on a ship?”

“Nothing bigger than a river raft.”

“Then let’s hope you don’t get sea-sick,” said Henry. “I suggest we all eat and drink as much as possible, then retire. It is going to be an early start tomorrow, and I for one have no desire to be tired.”

9

Thomas, to his chagrin, found that the ocean did not agree with him, especially not a late fall ocean with large swells that spilled over the decks and left everything slick with water or ice, depending on the day. He managed to avoid sea-sickness, but only by keeping his mouth shut and not eating.

Eileen had dressed herself as Alex again, and the sailors took “him” under their wing, teaching her about the ship and the rigging and how to climb it. She spent most of her spare time there, staring out either at the ocean or the coastline they were following north. Thomas barely saw her on the deck, and when he did, her appearance as a boy kept them from being too close.

George found the ocean agreeable enough, and busied himself with learning the metalwork of the ship, examining its pulleys and watching the gears that made it work. He helped the sailors whenever they asked, and did some work using the small forge the shipwright kept on board.

Sir Lawrence and Sir Michael had come with them—as had Sir Martin, much to Thomas’s surprise. It was a matter of keeping one’s enemies close, Thomas suspected. The other three were Sir Rowland, Sir Patrick, and Sir Gareth. They, Thomas, George, and Eileen slept together below decks in hammocks which were surprisingly comfortable once one got the hang of them. Henry and the barons had small cabins to themselves.

By the fifth day, Thomas actually felt human. The nausea had passed and the sailors taught him how to climb the rigging. It was tricky at first, but once he got his sense of balance, he was able to pull himself up into the ropes and stand beside Eileen. She smiled at him, then turned to stare out at the ocean. Thomas shared the silence with her, and stayed beside her until the sailors called them down.

They sailed for another nine days, stopping twice at sheltered harbours to get provisions before going back out to the sea. They arrived at Grey Harbour, a large, snow covered coastal city that was the capital of the duchy of Weaversland. The group stayed two days, buying supplies and proper winter clothes for Thomas, George and Eileen. Henry and his knights had stabled their horses in the city before they went south. Now they prepared them for the journey as well, and bought new animals for Thomas and his friends.

On the third day, Henry led them out of the city and northeast towards Frostmire. He pushed the pace as hard as he could without wearing out the horses. Thomas, George and Eileen were saddle-sore almost at once, and even the comfortable beds at the inns they found the first two days did little to relive the suffering. The knights looked hardly discomfited at all by the pace and the cold, but had the good grace not to laugh at the three friends’ infirmity, though Sir Martin sneered and was given to disparaging comments.

On their second day of riding, tired of hearing how useless he was, Thomas suggested to Henry that they use the first hour in the morning to practise their swordplay. Henry readily agreed. George and Eileen joined them—George using a strong, heavy blade that Henry had bought for him in Weaversland—and by the second day of it, the knights and barons joined in as well. The knights and barons carried heavy blades like the one Henry had bought George, designed for piercing armour and cutting a man open on the battlefield. They were suspicious of Thomas and Eileen’s light rapiers, more suited to duelling or brawling in the city streets.

They did not spar against each other, lacking the proper equipment to make the exercise safe. Instead they ran through drill after drill, practising blocks and cuts and thrusts and footwork until they were warm enough not to feel the cold of the day, and the idea of sitting on horseback came as a relief.

On the fourth night of the ride—the last before they were to cross into Frostmire—they had to sleep outside on the cold, snow-covered earth. Henry picked a spot on relatively high ground, covered by some straggly, naked trees whose trunks broke the force of the cold wind that blew across the barren ground. They slept in a group, huddled together to draw warmth from each other’s bodies. At Henry’s order they left the horses saddled in case of trouble.

Henry put himself and Thomas on the midnight watch. For Thomas, it seemed that he had only just become warm under the thick, winter blankets when Henry roused him for his turn. Thomas forced himself up, coming fully awake the moment the stinging cold of the wind hit his face.

It was a clear night, the stars shining down in pinpricks of brilliance. The moon was on its last quarter, giving little light. The fire, dug into a pit to keep the flames from being seen from a distance, had long since become glowing embers. Henry led Thomas away from it, to the edge of the camp.

“I saw you looking at the bishop’s books on the ship. Anything useful?”

“Some,” said Thomas. “There’s that healing spell and the spell he used to call fire. I’ve learned that one now, but I haven’t had a chance to try it. Some of the summoning spells work, but they all take forever.”

“I had hoped for more,” said Henry.

“Well, I remember the one for the straight splitting of wood.”

“Handy,” said Henry.

“I do have some curses.”

“I don’t suppose you have one that can drive off an invading army?”

Thomas shook his head. “Not a one.”

“Worth a hope,” said Henry. He stopped talking, and the two peered out into the darkness for a time. After a while, Henry asked, “Thomas, do you think you could locate the source of the enemy’s power?”

“I don’t know,” said Thomas. “I’m not even sure how I could find that out.”

“You found out about the bishop,” said Henry.

“I
figured out
the bishop,” said Thomas. “I didn’t find out his secret. I just put the pieces together.”

“Well, let’s hope we can put the pieces together here. They can attack when they want, hide when they want, and use magic against my men.” Henry shook his head. “The only reason they haven’t overrun us is that they don’t have the numbers for it.”