Cold Magics (40 page)

“I’m looking to speak to Baron Gallen,” said Thomas. “Is he in?”

“Not in here,” said one of the men. “What do you want to speak to him about?”

“The invaders,” said Thomas. “Lord Henry sent me to find what information I could, to help defeat them.”

The man spat on the ground. “Won’t defeat anyone until the duke lets his men out of the city.”

“I don’t speak for the duke,” said Thomas. “Only for myself. Can you tell me where Baron Gallen is?”

“Behind you,” said the second man. “The second building on the right. He and his family live on the top floor.”

“Thank you,” said Thomas. “Did you want to escort me there, or shall I go myself?”

“Escort you?” The second man snorted. “What, you can’t find it yourself?”

“No, it’s just the way of these court types,” said the first. “Need an introduction to go say hello.” He pushed himself off the door he was leaning against. “Come on, I’ll escort you.”

“I’ll come with,” said the second. “Got nothing better to do.”

“Don’t suppose there’s any money in it for us?” asked the first.

“Very little,” said Thomas, “but I can manage something.”

“Fair enough.” The men led Thomas across the courtyard, dodging the various tents and children and occasional half-fed goats and chickens to the door of the building opposite. Instead of going to the front door, one of the men led him to a stairway on the side of the building. A single man with a sword at his side—the only weapon Thomas had seen in the courtyard, he realized—stood a bored watch.

“Hey Marcus, Chris,” said the guard. “What brings you here?”

“Escort duty,” said the first man. “This one here wants to see the baron.”

“The baron’s with his family,” said the guard. “Who are you to disturb him?”

“He says Lord Henry sent him.”

“And that it’s important.”

“About defeating the invaders.”

The guard looked thoroughly unimpressed. “From Lord Henry, are you?”

“Aye. Thomas Flarety is my name.”

“Well, then, wait here.”

The man went up the stairs. Thomas’s escort exchanged a bored look, but waited with him. Thomas took the moment to dig out his purse and find some copper coins. “How’s everyone here doing?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, how are people faring?” said Thomas. “How do you hold up?”

The bigger man shrugged. “We survive. Get work now and then, which puts some bread on the table. Otherwise, gruel is what we get.”

“It’s what the baron gets, too, Marcus,” said Chris. “There’s nothing that reaches his table that doesn’t reach ours, too.”

“True enough.”

“Thomas Flarety!” the call came from the soldier standing on the stairs. “The baron will see you. Come up.”

“I come,” said Thomas. He turned to the two men beside him and offered a pair of coppers and his hand. “My thanks. This will get you some food, and I’ll stand you to a drink, once this mess is over.”

“The Four knows when that’ll be,” said Marcus, taking the coppers and giving one to his friend before shaking Thomas’s hand. “You just get the duke to clear the land so we can go home.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Thomas mounted the stairs to the baron’s apartment. The soldier stepped inside to let Thomas through the doorway, then back out to resume his post, pulling the door closed behind him.

The apartment was no bigger than Thomas’s own in Hawksmouth. The windows were smudged with dirt, and one pane had been replaced with a thin piece of wood. The fireplace was small and soot-covered and the blaze in it gave hardly any heat. The only furniture was a pair of splintery benches and a long table, at which sat the baron and his wife and three children. They still wore their coats and boots and sat around five empty bowls which Thomas suspected had contained the same gruel that the men below were complaining about.

“Greetings, Thomas Flarety,” said Baron Gallen. “How fares Lord Henry?”

“Well,” said Thomas, bowing. “He sends his regards.”

The baron nodded, then presented the thin, hard-looking woman beside him. “My wife, the Lady Grace.”

Thomas bowed again, “My Lady.”

“And my children, Elise, Nancy and Frederick.”

“My pleasure to meet you all,” said Thomas, bowing deeper than before and getting a spate of giggle from Elise and Frederick. Nancy sat tall and nodded in the same way her mother had, acting as much the lady as a girl of eleven could manage. Thomas smiled at the three of them. “I am afraid I must ask your pardon, for I need to speak to your father.”

“You have to ask permission to speak with father,” piped up Elise. “’Cause he’s the baron.”

“This is true,” said Thomas.

“Well,” said Frederick. “Ask!”

Thomas turned to the baron and gave the finest court bow he could manage. “My Lord Baron, may I have permission to speak with you regarding matters urgent to the duke and yourself?”

“Aye, you may,” said Gallen, smiling at his younger two children. Nancy, Thomas noticed, was looking mortified. “Run along, you three. Tell Dudley you want to see the new puppies.”

The two youngest cheered and jumped up at once. Their older sibling did her best to look as if puppies were beneath her, though Thomas could see the spark in her eyes. She rose with dignity, curtseyed to Thomas and followed the other two out of the room.

“So,” said Gallen when they’d left. “What brings you here?”

“I’m trying to learn all I can about the enemy, so we’ll be better prepared to face them, come the spring.”

Gallen frowned. “Does the duke still think he can wait until spring?”

“I don’t know the duke’s thoughts,” hedged Thomas.

Gallen leaned forward. “Will you be part of the attack, young Thomas?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“And is that why Lord Henry brought you from the South?” Gallen’s eyes pierced into Thomas’s. “I would have thought he’d have better uses for one such as yourself.”

Such as myself?
“I’m not sure what you mean, my lord.”

“There are stories,” said Gallen, “that say you killed a bishop. Is it true?”

“Aye.”

“Is it true you used magic to do it?”

Thomas managed to keep from swearing out loud, even as he mentally cursed Father Roberts. “I used my rapier, my lord. And I would be interested to know who said I used magic on the bishop, rather than the other way around.”

“Rumour,” said Baron Gallen. He nodded at his wife. “Grace here told me this morning.”

“Heard it from one of the girls at the tavern,” said Lady Grace. “I don’t know who they heard it from.”

And so I’m notorious
, thought Thomas.
Wonderful
.

“I am not surprised to hear it is not true,” said Baron Gallen. “It would be far too handy for Lord Henry to suddenly produce someone who could face down a magician.”

“I would tend to agree, my lord,” said his wife. “Which does lead one to wonder why Lord Henry brought you here?”

I was far too handy.
“He and I faced the bishop’s magic together this summer. He thought I could help him defeat the enemy’s magic, also.”

The baron leaned his arms on the table. “Can you?”

“I am working on it, my lord. Can you tell me what happened when the enemy attacked your town?”

“They killed us,” said Lady Gallen, her voice cold and angry. “They brought down the walls as though they were nothing, and they destroyed our town with fire.”

Thomas thought about it. “What were the walls made of?”

“Wood,” said Baron Gallen. “Trunks two feet thick.”

“Impressive,” said Thomas.

“I thought so, before.”

Thomas thought about it. “How did they come down?”

Baron Gallen frowned. “What do you mean, how?”

“Did they collapse on themselves? Did they fall over? Did they explode?”

“They looked as if they’d been uprooted,” said Baron Gallen. “But I didn’t see them fall myself.”

“Is there anyone who did?”

Baron Gallen shook his head. “The men on watch were the first to die. Then when the fires started…” He shook his head. “We tried to defend the town, but they lit every building…”

“How?” said Thomas. “I mean, did anyone see them light the buildings?”

“I did,” said Lady Gallen. “From the window of the manor. After the first shock, my lord began to rally his men. They drove the invaders back.”

“It was hard fighting,” said Baron Gallen, grimacing. “They weren’t armoured. Had nothing more than skins and blades and bows. We rallied and began driving them back, street by street. We had them as far back as the tavern.”

“I saw one of them break from their ranks,” said Lady Gallen. “I thought it was a sign they were weakening, but…”

“The tavern next to us suddenly blazed up…” Baron Gallen’s voice was shaking as he spoke. “The entire second floor and the roof, all at once. I could hear children screaming inside.”

“The man who broke ranks,” said Lady Gallen. “Fire came from him, flying out from his hand and spreading as it flew. Like…” She shook her head. “I have not seen its like.”

“I have,” said Thomas. “On the road here.”

“The man threw fire again, this time at my troops. It killed four of my men, and the rest broke.” Gallen hung his head, shaking it like a tired dog. “We all broke and ran. We retreated to the manor and brought in as many of our people as we could. Half the town was on fire by then. We expected them to fire the manor but they didn’t. They just faded into the night. The next day we gathered all that survived and brought them together. There were too many of us to stay in the manor, and with no walls left to the town they could fire it at will, so…”

“All the walls came down?”

“Not all,” said Gallen. “The west wall came down, and when it went, it tore part of the south wall with it.”

“My lord organized the women and children and half his men and sent us here, with riders going ahead to ask for the duke’s help,” said Lady Gallen. “He stayed in the manor with the men and waited for the enemy or reinforcements.”

“The reinforcements didn’t come?”

“They did not,” said Baron Gallen. “It took the women and children four days to reach the city in the snow, but the duke would not send men out to us. We were running out of food when the enemy came. At night again.”

“And they fired the manor?”

“Aye. And we were watching for them. A fog came up, filling the streets. The enemy reached the manor and lit the fires before anyone saw them.” He shook his head. “We gave them a good fight, though. Killed at least a dozen when we broke their line, and the same again when we were retreating through the woods.”

Thomas nodded. “Has anyone gone back, since?”

“Not in force. Two of my men volunteered to circle back. The town was deserted, the manor was gone. There was no way we could hold it, so we came here. Not that there is much here for us.” He leaned forward on the table. “Why will the duke not attack?”

“I don’t know,” said Thomas. “Maybe he doesn’t want to wage a winter war.”

Gallen shook his head. “We’ve fought wars in winter before,” he said. “We won most of them.” He stood up and walked to the window, looking through the dirty pane at the people gathered in the square. “I’ve got people sleeping in the streets, and the coldest part of winter isn’t here yet.” He turned back at Thomas. “I’ll have folks frozen to death by the turn of the year, and we don’t have the worst of it. There are others who came without more than the clothes on their backs, who beg and starve in the streets. The population of the city has doubled. There’s no way the food is going to last until spring.”

“I’ll do what I can,” said Thomas, knowing the words were hollow. He had no power over the duke, no influence save with Henry. “I’ll keep gathering information, and hopefully find a way to help.”

“What more information do you need?” asked Lady Gallen. “You know the enemy uses witchcraft. You know they can throw fire at will, and you know they are taking the duchy apart.”

“They can’t throw fire at will,” said Thomas, realizing it was true as the words left his mouth. “If they could throw fire anytime they want, why didn’t they destroy the entire town the first night? Why didn’t they chase the refugees? Why did they wait two weeks to attack again?”

Gallen looked thoughtful. “I don’t know.”

“Neither do I,” said Thomas. “But it might be a weakness we can exploit. And now, I’ll take my leave.”

“Go,” said Gallen. “Tell the duke I await his command to march.”

“I will,” said Thomas. He bowed and headed for the door. A thought struck him. “My lord, may I ask why you and your wife are not housed at court?”

Gallen shrugged. “No place was offered.”

“None of those who have lost their villages have been invited to stay at court,” said Lady Gallen.

Thomas frowned. “What about Baron Goshawk?”

Gallen shook his head. “The baron didn’t lose his town. He just happened to be here when the duke decided to close the city.”

Lucky him
, Thomas thought as he slipped out the door into the cold air.

20

For five days Thomas criss-crossed the city, searching every bookseller he could find for any book with the slightest hint of magic and talking to the refugees in the streets and listening to their stories. Each afternoon he retreated to the duke’s family library to warm up and write down what he had heard and study as much as he could about Frostmire. The last was in part to see if he could find something in the duchy’s history that would tell them who the raiders were, and in part to drive some of what he had heard during the day out of his head.

It didn’t work.

Thomas hadn’t found a single book with any magic in it. Instead, he had collected horror stories from the refugees. He had the names of twenty raided towns and villages. He had stories of walls coming down, and fogs that rose with no reason. He heard of fire thrown from men’s hands, burning thatch roofs and wood buildings and people. He watched men and women try not to weep as they spoke of those they had lost. Sometimes the raiders had been on horse, sometimes on foot. Every time, the villages and towns were burnt and their inhabitants driven out. The bleak images of destruction that the survivors painted left Thomas sleepless with horror some nights, with images of murdered men, women and children in his head.