“Well, ain’t that the truth all over?” Nessa replied.
“Why are there so many soldiers in Rossarb?” Tash asked. “The place is full of them.”
“To fight, of course. Haven’t you seen ’em? There’s a whole army of Brigantines just over the river.”
“I didn’t come that way.”
“Ahh. You came the cold way, was it?” Nessa laughed. “The high way? I recognize you now. You’re with that demon hunter, Gravell.”
“Might be.”
“I remember him. Lousy tipper. They got him too then?”
Tash didn’t reply.
“Shame. Nice fella, really. Lashes and a year’s hard labor for possession of demon smoke; the gallows for demon hunters.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“Well, if we get lucky, the Brigantines’ll take the castle and let us all out.”
“Can’t see that happening.”
“Nor me, luv, nor me. But we live in hope. Got nothing else.”
At that the cell door was unlocked and the jailer shouted, “Get up and get ready to move! All of you! You’ve got new accommodation.”
The women gave a mix of cheering and mocking comments about moving to the inn or the soldiers’ barracks.
The man replied, “You’re not far wrong. You’re going to a nice room in the cellar of the barracks. These fine lodgings here is reserved for enemy soldiers.”
“Is there ale in the cellar?”
“Course there is, darling. Gallons of it. Now hurry up and get moving.”
Tash followed Nessa along the corridor, up the narrow stone stairs, and into the castle courtyard. There was only the jailer in front and one guard behind. They both had short spears, but they hadn’t chained her hands as they had done the adult prisoners, as the manacles were too big and she could slip her hands out of them.
Tash blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light of the courtyard. This was her one chance to make a dash for it. The women weren’t hurrying, despite the shouts from the jailers. At the front of the line, Tash could hear Nessa loudly demanding a rest in the fresh air. One of the other women was already sitting down on the cobbles. There were soldiers in the courtyard, but not near the gates, which stood open. If she could get out of the castle she’d be able to find a hiding place. She’d have to come back to find a way to free Gravell, but the first thing was escape.
The jailer was prodding the woman sitting on the ground and Tash’s eyes met Nessa’s. She smiled and walked past Tash, saying, “I see you eyeing the gate. You’ll have to be fast if you try it.”
Tash smiled. “I’m fast enough.”
Nessa said, “Be ready then.” And she walked toward the jailer, complaining loudly. “We need water and fresh air! None of us had a drop to drink for a day. It’s torture. Amy there is pregnant.”
The jailers were both looking the other way. Now was her chance! Tash ran directly for the gates.
She’d got halfway before the jailer shouted, “Stop her!”
She’d got three-quarters of the way before she saw the soldier running at her from the left, but he was much slower than a demon, and she knew she could get away from him. She’d make it through the gates easily.
Then she reached the gates and came face-to-face with four guards who were stationed on the other side, out of sight from inside the courtyard.
“Shits!”
She swerved and doubled back and heard laughter as the soldiers chased her. This wasn’t like running from the boys in the bathhouse. She ran up some steps, but one of the men leaped up to block her path. She jumped down, dodged past another, and went back for the gates. But two men had stayed there and they advanced on her, so she veered round and ran for the castle keep itself. Perhaps she could find a way out through there.
As she reached the door of the keep, though, it opened and Tash barrelled straight into a woman, who fell backward with a scream. Tash tripped, her feet tangling in the woman’s skirts, bounced off the door frame and back into the waiting arms of a Pitorian soldier.
CATHERINE
ROSSARB, PITORIA
The demon hunter was asked about his methods and how he came by the smoke. He said the secret would go with him to the grave and I agreed that that would be soon.
Sheriff’s notes on the arrest of Jonyon Burgens
CATHERINE HAD been sitting in her rooms all morning watching men die.
Early in the morning, a small flotilla of Pitorian ships had gone out from Rossarb to attack the Brigantine ships ferrying fresh soldiers across the bay. From her distant vantage point, Catherine thought their struggle appeared like an awful game: tiny figures sending out flaming arrows, other tiny figures putting out the fires, and some men falling in the water. The transport of Brigantine troops was being slowed, but it hadn’t been stopped. Catherine couldn’t face watching any more.
“I’m going to see my men,” she told Tanya, who smiled for the first time that morning.
Catherine made the best she could of her appearance and told Geratan, who was guarding her door, to lead the way. They went down the narrow winding steps of the castle. Geratan opened a door, and Catherine was about to step out into the courtyard when a young girl ran straight into her.
Catherine was knocked backward with a short scream of surprise as the girl ricocheted off her and through the door. Geratan grabbed the girl, who kicked him in the shin. He threw her to the ground with a curse.
Tanya asked, “Are you hurt, Your Highness?”
“No, just surprised.”
Catherine realized that ever since the attack in the king’s rooms she was more easily startled, but this was ridiculous. Screaming in public—because of a girl. Hardly the behavior of a princess. She took a breath and smoothed her dress and stepped out into the courtyard.
The girl was on the ground, a thin line of blood running from her forehead. She couldn’t be more than twelve years old. Her hair was long and blonde and in thick ropes that were matted and tangled like a bird’s nest. Her skin was a dark honey color, and when she opened her eyes they were the deepest blue, reminding Catherine of Tzsayn’s blue silk jacket. The girl certainly wasn’t like anyone she had seen before.
As the girl sat up, a man came over, shaking a heavy ring of keys.
“Right, you,” he said to the girl. “Get back with the other prisoners!”
Catherine looked around. A group of women sat on the far side of the courtyard. One was complaining loudly about being thirsty.
“Who are they?” Catherine asked.
“Criminals and lowlifes, my lady,” replied the jailer. “We’re movin’ ’em out of the cells to make room for Brigantine prisoners.”
“Can you give them some water at least?” Catherine said. “They look half-dead.”
It looked like this request was too much for the jailer’s mind to take in. Geratan told him, “The princess means for you to get the prisoners water. Now. I’ll watch this one.”
The jailer grunted, but he set off for the well. Catherine crouched down next to the girl.
“What’s your name?”
The girl looked up. “Tash. What’s yours?”
“Catherine.”
“You foreign?”
“I was born in Brigant but I’m Pitorian now. And proud to say so. What about you?”
“I was born in Illast, I think. But I’ve traveled all my life. Not so much now of course—now I’m a prisoner.”
“May I ask why you’re a prisoner?”
“Do I get water as well? Or just a lot of questions?”
“I’m sure I can get you water.”
“And something to eat?”
Catherine smiled, impressed by the girl’s confidence. “Yes, I think so. Geratan, find this young lady some food.”
Tash stood up and brushed herself off. Catherine wasn’t t
all, but this girl was tiny.
“So?” Catherine asked. “Why are you a prisoner?”
“I’ve not done anything wrong,” Tash said. “A case of mistaken identity.”
One of the soldiers smacked her across the top of the head. “Don’t lie to Her Highness.”
“Hit me again and I’ll . . .” Tash glared at the soldier, then kicked him.
“No more hitting or kicking, please,” Catherine said.
The soldier said to Catherine, “She’s a demon hunter, Your Highness. And a natural-born liar too.”
“A demon hunter! At her age?”
Tash shrugged. “I’m a natural-born demon hunter, as it happens.”
Catherine couldn’t help but laugh. She still wasn’t sure she believed in demons, but the girl herself was like no one she’d ever met before.
A soldier brought the food, and Catherine had them set up a table at the side of the courtyard in the sun. Ambrose had arrived too, and Catherine felt him watching her as she sat opposite Tash while the girl munched through the dried apples and cheese. Their eyes met for a moment, and she felt a bloom of warmth in her cheeks and forced herself to turn away.
Tash squinted at Catherine and asked, “Who are you again?”
“I’m Catherine. Princess Catherine, formerly of Brigant, now of Pitoria.”
“Oh. Right. Should I curtsy or something?”
“Strictly, yes. But I’ll let you off. I’m not that fond of curtsying myself.”
“Your father? Is he the king of Brigant then?”
“Indeed he is.”
“The vicious one.”
“He has that nickname and that reputation.”
“Oh well. You can’t choose your family, as they say.”
Catherine certainly wouldn’t choose her father or Boris. She asked Tash, “Where’s your family?”
Tash shrugged. “Gravell’s my family now.”
“Gravell?”
“My partner.”
“Your demon-hunting partner?”
“I never said I was a demon hunter.”
“Actually, you said you were a natural-born demon hunter.”
Tash looked irritated at that and stuffed more cheese in her mouth.
As the other women prisoners were being led away, Catherine was reminded of Lady Anne being led onto the scaffold. Women in chains, and always men holding the other end . . .
And thinking of Lady Anne reminded her of something else. Here at last was someone who might know something about demon smoke.
She said to Tash, “I’ve never really believed in demons. Can you tell me what they’re like?”
Tash carried on eating, eyes down.
“What do they look like, for example?”
“I don’t want to get myself into more trouble.”
“Well, you’ve already admitted to being a demon hunter. Anyway, if it’s just you and me, two ladies, talking, I don’t see how that can lead to any trouble. And I’m sure I can get you more food and water.”
“Freedom is what I need. For me and Gravell.”
“That’s a little harder, but I could get food and water to Gravell too, if he’s in the cells here.”
Tash looked up quickly. “He is. And they treat us all like sh—I mean, they treat us badly. They’ll send us to the gallows and we don’t do any real harm and Gravell is soft as butter at heart.”
Catherine couldn’t quite imagine a demon hunter being as soft as butter in any respect, but she nodded and said, “I’m sure he is.”
She turned to Ambrose and said, “Can you bring some milk? And bread and honey.” She turned to Tash. “Do you like honey? I love it.”
Tash nodded.
When the milk was delivered, Tash drank a large cup of it, wiped her mouth, and belched. Then she watched Catherine sip her milk and drizzle honey onto a torn piece of bread. Tash copied Catherine and sipped her next cup of milk slowly.
Catherine smiled kindly, but her mind was on how to get Tash to talk. Perhaps she should sound more like a potential customer.
“I’ve heard that you can inhale the smoke from demons. Do you do that too? Do you think I could try it?”
Tash looked alarmed. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Oh, why not?”
“It makes you silly and sleepy, and if you take too much you lose days of your life. Some can’t stop using it once they start.”
“And that’s its only use?”
“It’s warm. And beautiful to look at. All red and purple and orange, never stops swirling around. Like it’s alive. Gravell says it’s the demon’s soul that escapes from their mouths.”
And again Catherine was reminded of the sign Lady Anne had made. She’d done it for a reason. She’d looked at Catherine and made the sign and then looked at the king. Catherine had a sudden feeling that perhaps Lady Anne knew that her father was going to betray her. She felt dizzy at the idea, though somehow it felt right.
“You all right?” Tash asked. “You look a bit sick.”
Catherine nodded and tried to recover the conversation. “So the smoke is red and orange?”
“Yeah. And purple sometimes. It varies. But it’s all beautiful.”
“I’d love to see it.”
“The soldiers took ours.”
“There’s some here? In Rossarb?” She turned to Ambrose. “Can we get it from whoever took it from Tash?”
Ambrose summoned another soldier and spoke with him.
Tash sighed. “I suppose you’re going to throw me back in the cells now I’ve told you everything?”
Catherine smiled. Tash had hardly told her everything and she very much wanted to learn more.
“I can’t stop them taking you back there now, but I’ll do my best to help you get out. You have my word on that.”
* * *
It was late in the evening before Prince Tzsayn returned to the castle. Catherine knew he’d spent all day on the town walls and she had watched for his return from her rooms. As soon as he rode into the courtyard she ran down to intercept him, then slowed, smoothed her dress, and held her head high as she stepped outside.
“Good evening, Your Highness. May I speak with you?”
Tzsayn looked even more tired than he had done the night before, but he said, “Of course. Join me.”
He led her to a small dining room where a table was set and food was brought to them promptly.
“May I ask how the defense of Rossarb is going?”
“The walls are strong, but your father is tightening the siege. His men captured the road to the south today. Some of our reinforcements arrived before then, but not enough, and the rest have had to fall back.”
Catherine felt her chest tighten. “So we’re cut off?”
“I’m afraid so. All I can do now is try to hold out until further reinforcements get here. When Lord Farrow arrives with his men, they’ll cut through the siege lines and relieve the town.”
“How long?” she asked quietly.
Tzsayn puffed out his cheeks and ran his scarred fingers through his hair.
“Three days.”
“Can we do it?”
Tzsayn grimaced. “Aloysius’s men tried to storm the town walls twice today, once from the south, once from the west. We threw them back, killed a hundred men, probably, but lost a dozen of our own. Their army is growing all the time as Aloysius ferries more men over from Brigant. They can afford losses like that. We can’t. I fear we cannot hold the town and will have to retreat into the castle. We can hold that until Farrow gets here, I’m certain, although if Aloysius’s army occupies the town it will be a bloody business to dislodge them.” Tzsayn leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “But enough gloomy news. What have you found to occupy yourself today?”
“Well, that is why I wante
d to speak with you.”
“And there I was thinking that you dashed down to meet me for my charming company.”
Catherine smiled. “Of course, that too, Your Highness.”
“Hmm, of course. So what is it you want to discuss?”
“I’ve been thinking about what my father wants. None of us have been able to guess his motive for this invasion. So perhaps it’s something we would have no reason to know about.”
“I’m afraid I’m a little tired for riddles.”
“My father bought some demon smoke last year. I found records of it in his accounts.”
“You think he’s been smoking it?” Tzsayn chuckled bitterly. “That would explain a lot.”
“No. My father never even drinks wine. But nor does he ever spend money without a reason, and this smoke cost him two hundred pounds. There’s something else too. I need to tell you about Ambrose’s sister and a place called Fielding.”
Tzsayn frowned but listened quietly as Catherine told him about Lady Anne’s execution and the signs she’d made and the boys at Fielding.
““Demon smoke’ and “boy’ was the message?” Tzsayn said. “I don’t understand how this could relate to your father’s invasion.”
“No, but if we knew more about the smoke then we might.”
“And how can I help? From my vast knowledge of demons?”
“Well, actually, there are two people in your custody with first-hand knowledge.”
Tzsayn’s face soured. “Demon hunters, you mean.”
“Yes. I met one of them, a young girl, by chance today. She knows about demons. I think she might shed some light on what my father is after.”
“You can have her brought to you. Don’t go to the cells.”
“I’ve spoken to her, but she won’t tell me more unless she’s free.”
“No.” Tzsayn shook his head. “She’s a criminal.”
“She can help. It’s a chance to find out what my father is up to. A small chance, I grant you, but it will cost you nothing to let her go.”
“Apart from the fact that she’s broken the law.”
“She’s a child. A royal pardon would, I’m sure, encourage her to share her knowledge.”