The Sorcerer's Widow

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They were nearing the great stone towers of Grandgate, the main entrance to Ethshar of the Sands, and Dorna was frowning as she tapped at her talisman. “It’s somewhere over that way,” she said, pointing to the left. “I can’t tell whether it’s in the city or not.”

“Smallgate is in that direction,” Kel said.

She glanced at him. “Smallgate,” she said thoughtfully. “Is there an actual gate in Smallgate? A way into the city?”

“Of course,” said Kel, startled. “Why else would they call it that?”

“Maybe because there used to be one, a couple of hundred years ago,” Dorna answered. “Names don’t always change when they should.”

Kel could not argue with that. “There’s a gate,” he said. “It isn’t always open, though.”

“I didn’t know Ethshar of the Sands had more than one gate,” Dorna said. “Everyone uses Grandgate. Or arrives by sea.”

“The highway only goes to Grandgate,” Kel said.

Dorna considered this, looked at the towers ahead, and then at the talisman in her hand. “So how many gates are there?” she asked.

“Four.”

“Grandgate, Smallgate-what are the others, Mediumgate and Tinygate?”

“Beachgate and Northgate,” Kel said. He pointed to the west. “They’re over that way.”

Dorna looked in that direction, then shook her head. “We need to go south,” she said. “I guess we’re bound for Smallgate.” She chirruped to the oxen and tugged on the reins, urging them off the highway onto one of the ill-defined lanes that led through the maze of huts and market stalls that lined the approaches to Grandgate.

Kel looked around worriedly. In particular, he looked back at the wagon, and at Irien’s wagon behind Dorna’s. He saw the locals watching as the wagons passed by, and saw that some of them were inching nearer. He turned and glanced ahead, and saw groups of children muttering among themselves.

“Stop,” he said. “Stop right now.”

“What?” Dorna had already been dividing her attention between the reins and her tracking talisman, and this new distraction seemed to be confusing her.

“Stop!” Kel shouted. “Stop here, and get your weapon out!” He drew his own belt-knife, wishing he had a club or a sword, or anything with more reach.

Dorna yanked on the reins, then turned and demanded, “What’s wrong?”

“Get out your weapon now,” Kel ordered, as he got to his feet. He saw Irien stop her own wagon, her oxen’s noses only a foot or so from the back of Dorna’s wagon, and he saw half a dozen men and women closing in behind.

“Get away!” Kel shouted. He pointed at Dorna. “She’s a sorcerer, and if you touch either of these wagons, or anything in them, she’ll blow your head off!”

Finally grasping the situation, Dorna stood as well, brandishing the black weapon that had destroyed the Northern sentry talisman. She did not speak.

“Blast anyone who gets too close,” Kel said, as he sat down and grabbed the reins. He called over his shoulder, “Irien! Stay close!” Then he shook the reins and urged the oxen forward. Dorna swayed as the wagon started moving, but stayed upright and vigilant.

“It’s almost two miles to Smallgate,” Kel said. “We could double back to the highway.”

“Is it like this the entire way?” Dorna asked, not looking down at him.

“I don’t know,” Kel said. “I never came outside the walls. When Ezak and I left we went out through Grandgate, and anyway, we didn’t have anything worth stealing.”

“Turn back,” she said.

Kel nodded, and tugged at the reins, turning the oxen to the right, into the gap between a ragged blue tent and a rough wooden stall displaying old tools for sale. People who had been watching the whole thing reluctantly made way.

“Hai!” Dorna called, pointing her weapon at something behind them. Kel did not look, but urged the oxen forward, trying to coax more speed from the lumbering beasts.

A moment later they were back on the highway, and bound for Grandgate. The people who had been crowding close to the wagons had vanished, and after a final wary glance Dorna sat down-though Kel noticed she kept the weapon ready in her hand. Sweat gleamed on her brow, and while the weather was warm, Kel doubted it was entirely due to the heat.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“The city guard doesn’t go there,” Kel said. “They keep the highway clear, and everything inside the walls is under their protection, but that’s all.”

“So-what would have happened? Who are those people?”

Kel turned up an empty palm. “They’re just people. Some of them don’t have anywhere else to stay, so they live here. Some live in the city, or other places, but they come here to sell things. Sometimes it’s things the guards wouldn’t let them sell in the city markets. But they all steal things, if you give them a chance. They’ll come up to the back of a wagon and grab whatever they can, then run with it. Usually it isn’t anything valuable, so no one bothers to go after them.”

Dorna considered this for a moment, then said, “Threatening to kill them seems excessive.”

“They wouldn’t listen to less,” Kel said. “And if one of them got something from your wagon, and the others found out you have an entire wagon full of magic, they would have mobbed us and stolen everything.”

“You seem very sure of this,” Dorna said. “I thought you said you’d never been out here.”

“I heard about what it was like out here,” Kel said.

“You believed it?”

“It happens some places inside the walls, too.”

“Where?”

“Smallgate.”

“So you’ve seen people do that? Grab things off wagons?”

“I was one of them,” Kel said.

Dorna did not say anything for a moment, but sat silently, the weapon in her hand, as they rode into the shadow of Grandgate’s towers.

“I thought you said the guard protected people inside the walls,” she said.

“They do,” Kel said. “But they can’t be everywhere at once, and I knew where to hide from them.”

There were half a dozen soldiers in red and gold standing in front of the immense open gates, watching as civilians hurried in and out of the city; one of them waved to Kel, and he brought the wagon to a halt. The guardsman ambled toward them, spear in hand, sun glinting from his breastplate.

“So you stole things off wagons?” Dorna asked quietly.

“Yes,” Kel said, hoping she would not say anything too incriminating once the soldier was in earshot.

“Ever get anything good?”

“Not really. This tunic I’m wearing is probably the best thing I ever stole that way.”

She turned to stare at the old red tunic just as the guardsman trotted the last few steps and said, “Hai! What’s in the wagon?”

Startled, Dorna looked from Kel to the guard. “What?”

Kel jerked his head toward Dorna. “It’s hers,” he said. “I’m just helping.”

The soldier nodded. “So what have you got there?” he asked Dorna. He set the butt of his spear on the ground by his foot, and gestured at the wagon with his free hand.

Dorna looked helplessly at Kel.

“He just wants to know whether you’re bringing anything illegal,” Kel said, trying to sound reassuring. “They stop any wagon they don’t recognize.”

“How am I supposed to know what’s illegal here?” Dorna asked uneasily.

Kel sighed. He turned to the guard. “She’s a sorcerer’s widow,” he explained. “She’s brought her husband’s magic to sell.”

The guard frowned. “Is any of it dangerous?”

“Yes,” Kel said, before Dorna could react. She glared at him.

The soldier just nodded, then turned his head and bellowed over his shoulder, “Amdis! Get over here!”

“What are you doing?” Dorna hissed to Kel. “Why did you say that?”

“You don’t want to lie,” Kel said quietly. “Sometimes they have magic that can tell.”

“So you just tell him that I have dangerous magic?”

“Yes,” Kel answered, slightly puzzled at Dorna’s obvious annoyance. “That’s not illegal. Ethshar is full of dangerous magic.”

“Oh,” Dorna said. She straightened up and looked at the soldier, who smiled cheerfully at her. “Then what is illegal?”

“Swords, if you don’t have a permit,” Kel answered. “Unlicensed oushka in anything bigger than a bottle. Baby dragons. Poisonous fruit. Things like that.”

“Listen to your friend,” the guardsman said, grinning and shifting his weight to lean on his spear. “Sounds like he knows the rules.”

“Oh,” Dorna said again.

“There are rules about magic, but we don’t handle those,” the soldier explained. “That’s up to the magicians. If you’ve got forbidden wizardry, the Wizards’ Guild will let you know; if it’s bad witchcraft, the Sisterhood will talk to you. Sorcery, I’m not sure who looks after that, or if there really are any rules. It’s not my concern.”

“I see.”

“So, what else do you have in that wagon, besides sorcery?” the guardsman asked. “Anything we should know about?”

Dorna shook her head. “It’s all sorcery,” she said. “Everything else is in my friend’s wagon.” She pointed at Irien, who was talking to another soldier.

The guardsman straightened, picked up his spear, and pointed it past Dorna at her magical cargo. “All sorcery? That whole big wagon?”

“That’s right.”

The soldier frowned, then called, “Amdis, bring a friend!”

A moment later another soldier trotted up, spear in hand, and made a hasty bow. “Amdis of Cutler Street,” he said. “I’ll be escorting you. Do you know where you’re going?”

He was smaller and younger than the first guardsman, though still bigger than either Dorna or Kel. Dorna glanced at Kel as the soldier who had originally interrogated them gave them a parting wave and moved on, leaving them in Amdis’ care.

“No,” Kel said.

“What is it you’re carrying?” Amdis asked.

“Sorcery,” Kel said. “A lot of sorcery.”

“No wonder the sergeant thought you needed an escort. You’re a sorcerer?”

“No,” Kel said.

“My husband was,” Dorna replied.

“But you aren’t?”

“No. He died, and I inherited his magic, and I’ve come to sell it.”

“Ah,” Amdis said. “Do you want to store it in the city vaults until you find a place?”

Dorna looked at Kel. “Can we do that?”

Kel turned up an empty hand. “I don’t know,” he said. “I never had anything worth guarding.”

“There’s a fee,” Amdis explained. “If you want to pay a little extra, the guards will be especially careful.”

“Does that apply to our escort, as well?” Dorna asked.

Amdis spread empty hands. “I wouldn’t mind a few extra bits. But I’ll do my job either way. It’s not required.”

“The vaults aren’t required either, are they?”

“No,” Amdis admitted. “But honestly, unless you have protective spells on the wagon, I’d recommend using them. If you really have an entire wagon full of sorcery-well, do you have protective spells? You said you aren’t a sorcerer; are you a wizard, or anything?”

“No,” Dorna acknowledged. “And the protective spells-well, they aren’t very effective.” She glanced at Kel, who said nothing. He remembered the screaming talisman back in Shepherd’s Well; he doubted that would discourage most of the thieves here in the city.

“Then I’d recommend the vaults.”

Another soldier strode up just as Dorna asked, “Where are they?”

Amdis turned and pointed. “Under the north tower,” he said.

“Here in Grandgate?”

“Sure. After all, it’s mostly people going in and out of the city who need them.”

That seemed to convince her, and twenty minutes later Kel, Dorna, Irien, and half a dozen soldiers were rolling the wagon down a ramp into an iron-lined stone vault, one of a row cut into the foundations of the immense north tower. The oxen had been switched to Irien’s wagon and were waiting patiently on the street above, with yet another soldier watching them.

The lock that secured the vault door used three keys; two stayed with the tower’s staff, and Dorna was given the third. She was offered the option of paying a wizard to put a sealing rune of one sort or another on the vault, as well, but she turned that down; quite aside from professional pride making her reluctant to use any magic other than sorcery, it would have added at least a round of silver to the price. The fee for the vault itself seemed quite reasonable-a mere six bits a day.

Filling out the paperwork took longer than getting the wagon in the vault, but an hour after arriving at the gate the three of them-Dorna, Irien, and Kel-were squeezed onto the driver’s bench of Irien’s wagon, rolling south on Wall Street and looking for a suitable inn.

Or rather, Irien was looking for a suitable inn. Dorna had her tracking talisman in hand, and was fiddling with it. She had kept that and the black weapon; Kel was unsure whether she had taken any other sorcery from her wagon.

“There’s too much other magic here,” she said. “It’s getting confused.”

“It can wait,” Irien said. “What about that one?” She pointed at a signboard on a side-street, a few doors from Wall Street.

Kel leaned over and saw a the sign in question; it depicted three feathers above the words “Food-Drink-Lodging.”

“I don’t know it,” he said.

Irien glanced at him. “I thought you used to steal purses in taverns.”

Kel had almost never stolen entire purses, especially not in taverns, but he did not bother correcting her; he merely said, “Not that one. It’s too close to the Grandgate barracks.”

“That sounds like a recommendation to me.”

Kel turned up an empty palm.

“Good enough,” Irien said. She tugged the reins to turn the oxen.

“What? No, wait!” Dorna protested, looking up from her talisman. “My bag is that way!” She pointed directly down Wall Street.

“The inn is that way,” Irien replied. “I think we need to arrange lodging before we do anything else.”

“No!” Dorna said. “No, I could lose him.”

“Couldn’t Kel find him for you?”

Kel ducked at the suggestion. Dorna barely glanced at him as she said, “Not before he sells my talismans!”

Kel thought she was over-estimating Ezak’s ability to fence magic, but did not say so.

“Dorna, I am not going to drive this wagon halfway across the city through these streets! Look at them!” She waved an arm to take in their surroundings.

Kel looked around.

This was Grandgate, not his home territory, but it was still reassuringly familiar. To their left was the Wall Street Field, where no permanent structures were permitted; this particular stretch held no structures at all because it was too close to Grandgate and the guard barracks, and therefore had soldiers traipsing across it at all hours, discouraging the erection of tents or other temporary shelters. To their right were houses, shops, and taverns, mostly catering to a military clientele-vintners, armorers, gaming halls, and the like. Behind them on the left, just beyond Wall Street Field, rose the immense north tower; ahead on the left, beyond the field, was the inner gatehouse. Directly ahead of them, past the gatehouse, was the broad open expanse of Grandgate Market, jammed with carts, market stalls, farmers, merchants, and customers. It all smelled of smoke and sweat and dirt, and the sounds of footsteps and calling voices and rattling wheels filled the air. None of it looked at all out of the ordinary to Kel.

There were hundreds of people in sight, going about their business. Dozens of them were driving various carts or wagons. Kel was not quite sure what Irien found so unappealing about driving here, but then, she was from a tiny village; maybe this was too crowded for her.

“Fine,” Dorna said. “Stop here, then, and Kel and I will go on on foot. It’ll probably be faster anyway.”

“But…I don’t…” Irien said.

“You book us a room at that inn you like, and take care of the wagon, and we’ll find you there later.”

“Dorna, I-”

“Go on!” She looked up from her talisman long enough to spot the signboard. “The Three Feathers, across from the tower where the vaults are. We’ll find it.” She stood up, a trifle unsteadily, while the vehicle was still moving.

Irien halted the oxen and watched unhappily as Dorna awkwardly climbed down-awkwardly, because she was keeping her talisman in hand and in sight the entire time.

Kel hesitated.

“Come on, Kel,” Dorna called, her gaze still focused on her magical guide. “I may need you. You know the city, and I don’t.”

Kel hurried to the step, but just before he leapt to the ground he turned back to Irien and said, “I’m sorry.”

Then he was following Dorna at a trot, south through Grandgate Market, as Irien drove the wagon into the side-street.