True Magics (34 page)

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Authors: Erik Buchanan

BOOK: True Magics
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The healer stepped past him, starting to say, “Who is my…” then stopping with a gasp of horror.

“What happened to this man?” the healer demanded. “Who did this?”

“He’s been tortured,” said Thomas, stepping in and closing the door behind him. With nine of them in the forge, there was barely room to stand, let alone walk. The room stank of filth and steel.

“I can see that,” snapped the healer. “Who did it?”

“Not important,” said Thomas. “Can you straighten his fingers?”

The healer looked down at the wooden device wrapped over Charles’ hand. “I don’t know. It depends how badly the fingers are broken.”

“They broke each finger in two places,” said Charles, his voice weak. “The bones. That way I’d still be able to sign my confession. He was going to start on the joints next.”

The healer’s expression became much more gentle. “Then I’ll be able to straighten the bones,” he said to Charles. “But it’s going to hurt a great deal.”

“He’d be best unconscious for it,” said Henry. “The neighbours don’t need to hear him scream.”

“He will be,” promised the healer.

“Michael, Liam and Jonathan can come with us,” said Thomas. “Henry and I will take them to the all-night and get them clothes.”

“This one stinks, too,” said the healer, looking down at Charles.

“We’ll clean him up once you’ve fixed his fingers,” said Henry.

“Can… Can Eileen sit with me?” Charles said. “While he works on me?”

“Always trying to steal my girl,” said Thomas, shaking his head and smiling. “Just mind your manners.”

Charles managed a smile back, though doing it hurt him. Eileen sat down beside him. “I’ll sit with you,” she said. “As long as it takes.”

“We’ll be back as fast as we can,” said Thomas. He picked up his rapier and headed for the door. He stopped in front of George. “George, thank you.”

George nodded. “Just get back fast, Thomas.”

“We will,” said Thomas. “And we’re not coming back alone.”

20

Thomas and Henry roused the entire company on their way to the baths. None of them were happy until they heard why they’d been woken. Thomas told them to get armed, armoured, in uniform, and to get the statements they had written about Michael’s kidnapping. Then Thomas ran to their own apartment to get their uniforms and armour while Henry guarded Liam, Jonathan and Michael at the baths.

When they left the baths Thomas and the others wore the black of the Student Company. Henry wore the white of the Order of the White Wolf. Jonathan, Liam and Michael stayed close to Thomas on the way back to the forge and spooked at every sound, as if expecting Church soldiers to come out of the alleys after them.

By the time they returned to the forge, the whole company was there. Even James, whom the others had carried over, was sitting on the floor beside Charles. Every man of them was furious, horrified and ready to kill. The healer had left. Eileen stood watch with Thomas outside the forge while Michael and the others stripped Charles, cleaned him up, and put him into clean clothes.

When they were done, George brought down a big iron plate and laid it over the coals. Eileen cooked bacon and cut bread and brewed tea for them all.

It was nearly time for the first bell of the morning when they heard the horses.

“Fan out in front of the smithy,” ordered Henry. “Jonathan, Michael and Liam stay inside with Charles. Go!”

They did. George stood still, indecision and pain in his face. Then he pulled his sword down from the wall and drew it. He stood in the doorway to his smithy, his face grim, tired and angry.

The riders came around the corner and straight for the forge. There were nine of them. None were wearing uniforms, and eight of them had long battle swords at their sides. Though he couldn’t see it, Thomas would bet they had chain mail under their coats. They looked tired and angry as they reined up in front of the forge.

“I would have thought we had longer,” said Henry. “More the fool, me.”

“Interesting that they knew to come here,” said Thomas.

“They didn’t,” said Henry. “See how their horses are lathered? They went to our apartment first, I bet.” He frowned. “They’d better not have wrecked the place.”

The horses parted and Father Alphonse, dressed in plain brown clothes, rode forward. “I should have guessed you’d come here. It’s closer than the Academy.”

“Come here for what?” asked Henry. “We’re having breakfast with friends.”

“Give them back,” said Father Alphonse.

“Everyone here is a student, save George,” said Thomas. “The Church is not legally allowed to hold students, and George was here to start with.”

Father Alphonse looked down at him. “I have eight men on horseback.”

“We have fifteen who hate
you
,” said Thomas, stepping forward. “And we have me.”

“You?” Father Alphonse sneered. “You will do nothing in front of witnesses. We both know it.”

“Do we?” asked Thomas. “Because this morning, I don’t.”

“Anything we do would wake the entire street,” said Henry. “And the wrath of the Academy. Remember what happened last time.”

To Thomas’s surprise, Father Alphonse dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to one of the guards. “A private word, Thomas,” said Father Alphonse. “If you would.”

Thomas didn’t move.

Father Alphonse sighed. “You can bring your sword with you if you like, Thomas. Now, please, walk with me.”

Thomas looked to Henry. Henry shrugged but said nothing. The other riders stayed where they were and their swords stayed sheathed.

“If he does anything,” said Thomas, “kill them all.”

“Don’t worry,” said Henry. “We will.”

Thomas sheathed his swords and walked beside Father Alphonse until they were half a block from the others. There were sounds of life in some of the houses, now. Thomas saw a few of the shutters slightly open, and eyes peeking out at them.
This is going to do nothing for George’s reputation.

“You must think you’re very clever,” said Father Alphonse.

“I think I’m very tired,” said Thomas. “And I think you being here is making me very angry.”

“Your existence is an affront to the High Father,” Father Alphonse hissed. For the first time since Thomas had met him the man’s composure was gone. “Your witchcraft endangers your soul and the souls of everyone you know. You corrupt everything around you with your very presence.”

“And you couldn’t say that over there?” asked Thomas. “Because they’ve all heard it before.”


Despite this,
” continued Father Alphonse, “the Archbishop still wishes to extend to you the hand of friendship. He is still willing to take your confession and forgive you your sins if you will recant.”

“Why does it matter?” asked Thomas. “Why does he need me to confess?”

“Have you considered the Archbishop’s offer?”

“The Archbishop kidnapped my friends. Forgive me if I don’t trust his word.”


I
kidnapped your friends, Thomas. He knew nothing about it.” He smiled at Thomas’s expression. “The Archbishop is not ready go against the king. Not yet.”

“Why am I so important?”

“You?” Father Alphonse’s smile became condescending, though there was a bitter twist to it. “You’re not important, Thomas.”

Thomas nearly laughed. “You’ve kidnapped my friends. You have preachers and posters in the streets attacking the Academy and the king, just to get at me. Apparently I am.”

“To get to you?” Father Alphonse laughed a short, sharp bark that echoed off the buildings around them. “Foolish boy. You’re just a symptom,” he said, “like your young lady.”

“Eileen?” Thomas’s brows came together. “What does she have to do with it?”

Father Alphonse looked east, where the sky was growing lighter. “Morning is here, Thomas, and it has been very long, this night.” He started back towards the horses. “Will you come with me? Come to the Archbishop, confess your sins and end all this nonsense?”

Thomas shook his head in disbelief. “You’re actually asking me that? After all this?”

“You will come to him in the end,” said the Inquisitor. “One way or another.” Thomas followed and watched him mount. “We will leave you to your morning,” said Father Alphonse. “Make the most of it.”

With a tug at the reins and a kick of his heels, he turned his horse and led the Churchmen away. Henry waited until they were out of sight before he called, “Weapons down.”

“I thought that was going to be the end of us,” said Marcus, sheathing his blades. “I’ve never fought anyone on horseback before.”

There was murmured agreement from the others. The first bell of the morning rang, and around them, the smiths began opening up shops. Many of them stared in surprise at the crowd of students in armour in front of George’s forge.

The Academy gates will be opening soon,
Thomas thought. He looked up at the sky. For the first time in days he could see patches of sunlight and blue sky through the clouds. The cold wind still bit into his skin, but not as badly as it had before
.

“Get them organized,” he told Eileen. “I’m going to heal Charles and then it’s time to go.”

“Shouldn’t you go to fencing?” asked Eileen.

“Not this morning,” said Thomas. “This morning we get everyone safe. Tomorrow I’ll report to Sir Walter.”

Charles was lying on a pile of blankets on the floor of the smithy. He looked awful. His face was still swollen and bruised, and Thomas suspected Charles’ nose would never look the same again. He was awake, though, and his fingers were straight under their splints and bandages.

Thomas knelt down beside him. “Time for me to heal you.”

“No,” said Charles.

Thomas rocked back on his heels in surprise. “What?”

“You can’t heal me.”

“I can,” Thomas protested. “I know I couldn’t help you when you lost your hand but this…”

“No, idiot,” said Charles, rolling his blood-red, swollen eyes. “I don’t mean you can’t heal me ever, I mean you can’t heal me now!”

“But –”

“If you make it go away, no one sees what they did to me, and they get away with it.”

“Charles,” Thomas spoke slowly, gently. “I can’t imagine the pain you’re in.”

“That’s right. But I can, and I can handle it,” said Charles. “I want everyone to see, and I want to tell everyone!”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” said Charles. He smiled, which made him wince in pain. “But as soon as you can, after, that would be good.”

“Deal,” said Thomas.

“Forgive me for not shaking on it.”

Thomas tousled Charles’ hair and stood up. “We’re moving out! Now.”

They left together, with Charles and James cradled and protected in the middle of the group. They kept the pace slow and steady, but Charles groaned every second step and James swore with every jolt.

In the market the preacher was already up on his crate, cursing against witchcraft and calling for the king to drive the witches out of hiding and into the streets where justice could be done.

“And what must we do with them?” the preacher demanded. “What will we do with these foul men and women who so abuse the love the High Father by daring to traffic with the Banished? Hanging is not good enough for them! Beheading is not good enough for them! They must be purified with fire! They must learn what torments the Banished face, that they may be purified before they pass from this world! It is the only way to cleanse them of their sin! To cleanse them of the vile witchcraft that they have allowed to possess their bodies!”

Cheers rose up from the crowd.

“There must be a reckoning!” the preacher continued. “There must be a cleansing of all those who would defy the high father’s will!”

Thomas shook his head in disgust and kept walking.

“There!” The preacher was practically jumping up and down on his box. “Look there to see the defilers of innocence! The profaners of Church law!” The preacher pointed directly at Thomas and his friends. “Too long has the Academy been a shelter for impure thoughts and irresponsible behaviours. And now, now they harbour witches in their midst!”

His audience booed and hissed.

“And look!” called the preacher. “That one is a girl! A girl dressed up as a student! Worse, armed and armoured! Oh, people of Hawksmouth! Oh, children of the High Father! Will you tolerate this? It is not enough that the rich send their sons to be debauched and tainted by the Academy, but now they prey on your daughters as well? It must be stopped!”

“Draw!” said Thomas, his voice loud enough to be heard through the square. A dozen rapiers left their sheaths. The crowd went silent at once, and Thomas could see fear in their faces. The preacher himself stopped speaking and stared.

“If we were as debauched and depraved as you think,” said Thomas, his voice loud enough to carry through the entire square, “we would cut you down where you stand.” He looked over his shoulder at the company, and saw the fury in their faces. All it would take was one wrong move…

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