Guild Mage: Apprentice

5. Five Crowns

Moonlight flashed on steel, and the huntress had a dagger in hand, raised between her and the doorway. Liv jerked back in shock. She wasn’t aware of putting her weight down on her broken ankle until she felt a sudden, piercing pain. With a cry, she crumpled to the floor. No one had ever drawn a weapon on her before.

"You should have stayed in bed," Wren hissed, lowering her blade. "Don’t move." Instead of coming over to help, the woman strode over to one of the wall shelves on which so many strange objects had been displayed. Her hand hovered over the statue of a woman, carved from white stone.

"What are you doing?" Liv asked her. "You shouldn’t be in here." From somewhere down the hall, she heard voices and footsteps.

"No time," Wren muttered to herself. She hesitated an instant more, then scooped the statue up with one hand and cradled it under her arm. For a moment, she seemed to be waiting for something to happen, but the room was silent and still. The dark-haired hunter breathed a sigh of relief, though Liv wasn’t certain what she could have been afraid of.

"Put that back!" Liv told her. "It isn’t yours."

"It doesn’t belong to your baron, either," Wren said, turning away from the shelf. She strode quickly across the room to the window. "It was stolen, and brought here from Varuna, across the sea. I’m just taking it back." She sat on the window, lifted her legs, and swivelled so that they swung out, dangling into the night. "I’m sorry you woke up tonight, girl," she said. "They’re going to blame you for this, and you don’t deserve it."

"Wait!" Liv cried out. Wren’s body, her clothing, and even the statue all turned dark, glistening in the light of the moon and the rings as if she was wet. Then, her form collapsed in on itself, and before Liv could do anything, a bat was stretching its wings in the open window. The statue was gone, the huntress was gone, and then the bat flew off into the night.

Liv used the wall to lever herself up onto one foot, but her ankle was still throbbing.

"What’s going on in here?" One of the castle guardsmen barged into the room, carrying an oil lantern encased in glass. Warm light flooded the room, driving away the shadows.

"She stole something!" Liv cried, pointing into the night. "I couldn’t stop her, and I fell down because of my ankle, and then she turned into a bat and went out the window!"

"You shouldn’t be up here, girl," the guard said. "Turned into a bat? Nonsense."

"Who is in here?" Baron Henry called, striding into the room. He wore a nightgown, with a heavy robe thrown over it, and carried a sheathed sword in his left hand. "The cook’s bastard?"

"I told you, she stole something," Liv repeated, turning to the baron. "The statue. The white one of the woman. She said it came from across the ocean, and she was taking it back."

Henry’s eyes widened, and he turned to the shelf. "Bring the light over here," he commanded the guard, who hurried to comply. "It’s gone," the baron said, running his hands over the empty place on the shelf, and looking down at the floor, as if the missing statue might have fallen. When he turned back to Liv, it was with cold eyes, and she shivered.

"Were you thinking to sell it, then? Search her," he commanded the guard. The hall was filled with a growing commotion, now, as more guards arrived, and then Lady Julianne crowded in at the doorway. The guard seized Liv roughly, and patted his hands over her shift.

"She doesn’t have anything," the guard said, but kept a painful grip on Liv’s arm.

"What did you do with the statue?" Henry demanded, taking two steps across the room toward her. He was more angry than she had ever seen before.

"I didn’t do anything!" Liv protested. "The hunter woman was here, her name was Wren. She came in the window after Bill opened it, and then she took it."

"The footman, Bill?" Julianne asked from the doorway.

Liv nodded. "Him! I heard him going up the stairs, so I went to see what he was doing, and he opened the window for her!"

"I think you had better have the servants’ quarters searched," Lady Julianne suggested to her husband.

"Take her to the great hall," Henry commanded the guard who had a hold of Liv. "The rest of you men, wake the servants. Do not allow them to dress, or to take anything from their rooms. Take them immediately to the hall, as well, and keep them there." The guards rushed off, and Liv found herself half-dragged to the door.

"Move it, girl," the guard holding her said.

"I can’t walk on my ankle," she protested, hopping to keep up with him.

"Just carry her," Henry said.

"My lord!" Master Grenfell was in the hallway now, trying to get around the guards and into the Room of Curiosities. "What happened?" The guard threw Liv over his shoulder, and she cried out from the painful jostling her ankle took.

"The statue of Ractia," the baron answered. "Someone has stolen it, and the cook’s bastard was involved somehow. Look, Kazamir, there’s something left on the window sill..."

Liv tried to listen for more, but she was carried helplessly to the stairs, and then down, bouncing at every step the guard took. He wasn’t at all being gentle, and she let him know. "My ankle’s broken!" she complained.

"Thieves don’t have any right to whine," the guard grunted. "Now shut it, or you’ll feel the back of my hand."

In the great hall, Liv was roughly deposited onto one of the benches used for the low tables. It would have been better if she had Rose to hug, or if one of the castle cats came by, but she had to sit alone, with the guard glaring at her. She hadn’t been there more than a few moments before Gretta, her mother, and all the other servants were herded in by the baron’s guards.

"Liv!" her mother cried out, rushing forward to her. "Where were you?"

"That has yet to be determined," the baron said.

"She’s wearing nothing but a shift and hose," Lady Julianne broke in. "By the Trinity, Henry, where could she possibly have hidden it? And with a broken ankle? Don’t frighten the girl."

The baron opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak the guards hustled in the footman, Bill.

"Was there anything found in his room?" Henry asked, and the guard stepped forward, holding out his hand. In the light of the lanterns, gold glinted in his palm.

"Five Crowns, m’lord," the guard said, handing the coins over to the baron.

Henry’s eyes narrowed. "Where does a footman get five crowns, boy?" he asked.

"I’ve been saving them up," Bill muttered.

"You make ten and seven pennies a day," Henry shot back. "At that wage, it would take you-"

"One hundred and forty-seven days," Master Mage Grenfell supplied.

"Near a hundred and fifty days to save that," Henry continued. "Five crowns saved on a Footman’s wage." He snorted. "Tell me where the money came from, Bill, and do not lie to me. Do it now, and I will not take your hand. You have my word."

The footman’s face drained entirely of blood, and Liv didn’t blame him: she believed every word Baron Henry said. She shuddered at the thought of her own arm ending in a stump, raw and bleeding. The idea of it was horrible.

"I didn’t steal nothing," Bill said, crumbling. "Please, you have to believe me, m’lord!" he begged. "She just told me to open the window, three nights running!"

"She?" Grenfell leaned forward, quill pen at the ready. "Describe the woman. This is the person who gave you the coins, yes? What was her name?"

"She never told me," Bill said, shaking his head. "She had black hair, and a fur cloak. She looked like a hunter or a trapper, and her voice was odd."

"Odd how?" Henry asked.

"Something about how she said things," the boy told them. "It just wasn’t quite right. Like when she made a ’w’ sound, it was more like a ’v," Bill said. "And other things like that. Just not how it should have been."

"And did you open the window yesterday evening?" Grenfell asked. Bill nodded miserably. "Did you open it again tonight?"

"I’m sorry," the footman pleaded. "I didn’t know she was going to do nothing."

"If that is true you are a fool," Henry said. "A foreign woman pays you to open the castle windows, to a room that you know contains rare and precious artifacts, and you did not even consider that she might be a thief? I think it more likely the coins were enough for you to put any other thought out of your mind. You are released from service, William. I promised I would not take your hand if you gave me the truth, and so I shall not, but that is the extent of my mercy. I recommend that when the snows melt, you seek your fortune elsewhere. Take him and throw him out the gates," Henry instructed the guard, who grabbed Bill and dragged him from the solar.

"Varuna," Master Grenfell murmured. "That fits, my lord. And the blood on the window sill. There should be records of where your father acquired that particular artifact that we can consult."

"Do that as soon as you’ve gotten dressed," Henry instructed. "I want every guard we have in the streets, and I want that woman found."

"If she truly is what we suspect," Grenfell protested, "they will not find her. She will simply fly south to a port and find a ship to take her west."

"I will write a letter to Duke Thomas and send it immediately," Henry said. "He can search every ship that leaves. We will find her."

The mage blew gently across his book, to dry the ink. "It is said that the children of Ractia can take many shapes," he cautioned. "I think you should prepare yourself for disappointment, my lord. I will send word to the guild, so that we might consult with an expert. I also think we should take inventory of everything in that room, to be certain the statue is the only thing missing."

"While all of this is no doubt important," Lady Julianne said, rising, "I do not think this young girl needs to be present any longer."

Henry frowned, but then nodded. "As you say." He regarded Liv the way she might look at an ant on the kitchen table before she killed it. "I am pleased that you were loyal to this house, girl," he said. "I will see that you are rewarded for it. Go along with the Baroness, now."

"Yes, m’lord," Liv said, and carefully rose from her chair.

"Here, take my arm, child," Lady Julienne said. "Your name is Liv, yes? Such a pretty name." By the time they had made their way out of the solar and into the hallway, the baron and Master Grenfell were back to speaking in hushed tones about the theft.

"Thank you, m’lady," Liv said. "I can make my way back downstairs," she offered. It felt very uncomfortable to be leaning on the lady of the castle.

"Nonsense," Julienne dismissed the idea. "I will return you to your mother. It’s what I would want someone to do, if my child was hurt," she said. "And I have something to speak to you about, as well. I am told that you are a bastard, Liv."

"Yes, m’lady." Liv hunched her shoulders in, and stared at the floor of the hallway.

"What a coincidence," the baroness said. "I am, as well."