When Dragons Rage

16

Will smiled as Crow unwrapped the parcel and revealed the sweetcake. “And I didn’t steal it, neither.” Crow glanced up and raised an eyebrow. “But you didn’t pay for it, did you? The baker thought he was giving to the Norrington as a gift.”

The thief blinked. “How did you know?” No one could have told Crow, since Will’s visit to the gaol had been unannounced. Will had assumed that arriving by surprise would allow him to use his status as the Norrington to bluff his way past guards, and it had. None of them were prepared to stop him, especially after he promised he had no weapons and said that his visit was vital for the defeat of the enemy.

The sweetcake had been obtained in a nearby shop where Will had loitered while studying the gaol and its guards. The shopkeeper, an older man with rosy cheeks and a roundness that made him waddle as he walked, had wrapped the sweetcake up and presented the parcel to Will with a touch of ceremony. Since they had been alone in the shop, Will knew the formality was sincere, not meant as a show that might impress others.

Will had thanked him, then headed to the gaol. A couple of guards questioned him, but armed with an imperious tone and a mask that he’d received from the hand of the king, he was not seriously hindered. He’d been ushered up rather than down, which surprised him a bit, and found Crow in a small room, but one that was clean, warm, and had a window that—despite being barred—admitted sunlight. The minimal furnishing consisted of a cot and straw mattress, a chamber pot, a single small table, and two chairs, but everything was in good repair and the chamber pot had a lid.

Crow smiled at him. “Well, I could tell you that it was the knot in the string, which was a gift-knot, but it could have been that you’d retied it that way by accident.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “So, what was it?”

“You have no purse. You carry no money.”

The thief’s mouth opened in an O, then he closed it. “Guess old habits die hard.”

“It matters not, Will. The gift is appreciated.” Crow set it on the table. “I heard that you had a talk with King Scrainwood.”

“The princess must have told you about it.”

“On her last visit, yes.” Crow smiled brightly. “I got the impression it did not go well.”

Will shifted in the chair, then leaned forward. “He wanted me to lie about you and say evil things. I told him no.”

The older man’s smile contracted into a sharp look. “Only told him?”

Will shrugged. “He hit me. He’s stupid. I couldn’t help it. I was defending myself and things got out of hand.”

Crow frowned heavily, then rose from his chair to look down at the boy. “He’s not as stupid as you think, and if you assume he is, he will hurt you. Up to now he thought he could control you, so he didn’t have to worry about you. Now he does. He is not a good enemy to have, as is evidenced by my present situation.”

“I know, I know.” Will held his hands up. “It’s been a week since all that happened…”

“But you only told the princess two days ago.”

The thief winced. “Well, I was lying low, being good and everything. The king has calmed down; otherwise, they’d not have let me in here.”

“They may not let you out.”

That sent a shiver through Will, but before he could protest that he could get himself out pretty easily, a key ground in the lock. The thief turned to look and gasped.

The barred door swung open, and through it walked a tall man in simple huntsman garb save for a silver gorget worked with a half-horse, half-fish ensign, and a slender gold band around his balding head. The man’s sun-kissed flesh had gathered into wrinkles at his eyes, and white predominated in what hair he still possessed, yet he moved with an economy of motion that suggested he was younger than his years.

Crow dropped to a knee and bowed his head. “Highness.”

Will, blinking, slipped off his chair and to a knee as well. “Highness.”

“Rise, the both of you.” King Augustus of Alcida turned and looked at the gaoler. “That will be all; you may retire.” The two bodyguards who had accompanied the king waved the gaoler further down the hallway and out of earshot.

Crow brought his chair around for the king, then pointed to the sweet-cake. “I have not much to offer, Highness, but it is yours.”

“No, my friend, that is all right. You have given much already to the world, with no thanks. I’ll not rob you of even the smallest pleasure you could find here.” The king waved Crow to the cot, then leaned heavily on the back of the chair. “I have been greatly remiss. I have owed you an apology for a quarter century.”

Crow looked up at him but said nothing. The man’s eyes tightened and Will saw a quiver in his lower lip. The king’s words had clearly had an effect on Crow.

Augustus looked up and focused distantly. “What I tell you now, Hawkins, will seem self-serving. If you judge me harshly, I can accept that, for I deserve it. I played you false, and while I could protest that I was not on the spot to defend you, I should have been. What was done to you in Yslin was unforgivable, and I should have been there.”

Crow looked down at his open hands and slowly shook his head. “You were with the army in Okrannel, saving people. That was more important than dealing with one man. You had other things to think of.”

“You forgive me too easily, Hawkins. Arcanslata were able to inform me of your situation. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew that you had not betrayed the others. I remember that last night around the campfire. What I said then was true; I would have been happy to have you with me in Okrannel. I was very happy to have your brother, Sallitt. I didn’t know, though, that the charges against you were manufactured.”

The king sighed. “When I returned from Okrannel I married, and there was much fanfare. And then in setting up the Okrans court in exile and starting a family, there was much I had to do and there was no sign of you. I did not want to forget you, but I was not reminded.”

Crow nodded and started to speak a couple of times before words actually came. When they did, they were soft despite the strain in his voice. “After they took my mask, I, well, I don’t remember much of what I did. I wandered. The Vorquelves, because of the prophecy, harbored me in the Downs. If I drew a sober breath, it was by accident. If words came without tears…”

The king dropped to a knee before Crow and rested his hands on the other man’s sagging shoulders. “Had I known, my friend…”

Crow weakly patted the king’s right hand. “Highness, you had the world to worry about. I was beneath your notice and unworthy of your concern. I was no one. I was nothing. Then Resolute returned to Yslin and found me.“

Augustus nodded. “I know. After he found you, he came to find me. He explained many things to me, and I questioned my father, who told me what had happened. I protested that what had been done to you was as evil as anything Chytrine had done. He said to me, ‘One man’s blood is a puddle, but Chytrine would drown us in oceans.’ Sacrificing you seemed a small price to pay to preserve the stability of the world.”

Crow’s head came up. “Then you have known for twenty-five years who I was?”

“Yes.” The king drew in a deep breath. “As prince there was not much I could do, but I did what I could. I arranged favorable trade status for your friend Playfair’s trading company, and Resolute was named as my representative to collect the fees needed to keep these arrangements in force. You renewed acquaintance with your friend, and his company provided you with transportation and money. Playfair does not know that I know who you are, so he could never tell you of my patronage.”

Crow slowly nodded. “Things begin to make sense. Rounce was more than generous, and there were times I feared for his ruination. He would have given me anything, I know that, but it is good to know that he was amply rewarded for his action.”

“He has not suffered and you are right; he would have done anything for you. You do know that he is a patron of a number of bards who sing of Crow’s exploits?” Augustus rose and seated himself in the chair. “I have followed those songs keenly, often wishing to hear the true story behind them. You and Resolute were able to continue a war I wished we had never abandoned. I could do little save support the Draconis Baron.”

“It is well you did.” Crow frowned. “He knew who I was. I don’t know for how long, but he recognized me at the end. He gave me a sign.”

The king nodded. “He did know, though we never spoke openly of you. Whom else he might have told, I do not know. Secrecy was the best way to keep you safe.”

Will, who had been sitting and listening, began to twitch. “How can you say that?”

Augustus glanced at him. “Those were dangerous times, Will.”

“And that excuses you?” Will stood up and glared at the king. “You come in here and tell Crow that you’ve known for years and years and years that he was unjustly accused? You knew it destroyed his life, and you didn’t do anything?”

“Will.” Crow’s nostrils flared. “This is the king!”

“I don’t care.” Will planted his fists on his hips. “King Scrainwood wanted me to lie for him, and here you are saying you didn’t say anything to counteract the lie that hurt him? You call him friend? And you, you let him call you friend?“

Both men stared at him wide-eyed.

“Everyone makes things so complex. Everyone plays at manners just to hide their true feelings. I see people out there who would have beaten me to death for being a thief, but because I’m the Norrington, they’d give me everything I’d have stolen. And they still hate me for being a thief, but they lie and say they don’t in case I won’t save them when it comes down to it.

“And you know what? I’ve heard everyone say that Hawkins had to be sacrificed because if everyone had heard that Chytrine was coming back, they’d have been scared and nations would fall and stuff. Now, you have no trouble putting these same people in your armies and send them out to die without knowing why. So, how come they’re frightened sheep when some nighthaunt says she’ll be back, but brave and stalwart and courageous when you give them a spear and point them at something that will kill them dead?”

Will pointed a finger at King Augustus. “I know you are brave and everything. I know you’re a good king. And you’re my king, no matter what Scrainwood says. Nobody pokes your eyes out on coins, but you turned a blind eye to Crow. Through him, Chytrine warned everyone she was coming, but you all decided that to save your own heads, you would not let anyone know what she said, and so no one was prepared for her to come back. And did it ever occur to anyone that if you had gotten ready for her to come back, maybe she wouldn’t have?”

“Will! That’s enough.” Crow stood and opened his hands to the king. “Highness, I apologize.”

“No, no, that’s all right.” Augustus raised his hands and waved Crow back down on the cot. As Crow resumed his place, Augustus turned and looked up at Will. “Do you really want me to reply, or do you just wish to scourge me with your indignation?”

Will bit back a harsh reply and shivered. “I’ll listen.”

“Good. I’ll answer you, then, but not because you’re a noble or the Norrington or even because you are a citizen of my nation. I’ll answer you because you are the first person to ask me questions that have plagued me through the years.”

Augustus’ voice retained its deep tone, but sank in volume to something just shy of a whisper. “You may well be right, Will, that the common folk would not quake in fear at the threat of invasion from the north. Perhaps that is true of most of them, but even you have seen how panic or worry in one can infect others. There are ways to counter that, but at the time Hawkins was sacrificed, worry had infected the crowned heads. Reason did not prevail, and while they accepted a solution that allayed their initial fears, they all knew they had treated a symptom, and not the disease.

“Until I came to the throne—until Queen Carus replaced her father, until others who could think clearly took their places at the heads of their nations—that whole question could not be reexamined. To try to raise the issue of Hawkins would have caused kings to admit they were wrong, or caused their heirs to cast doubt on the legends of their predecessors. Hawkins and his fate became a minor sidelight to the whole problem of preparing for Chytrine’s return.”

Will frowned. “That’s easy to say.”

“But it is true, and Hawkins knew it, too.” The king glanced at Crow. “He set out to continue the fight against Chytrine, leading by example. Others might have protested, launched petitions to get their name cleared, but he put his old persona to rest and focused on the important problem: defeating Chytrine.

“Now, I will admit to being a coward. I knew what he was doing, and I knew his actions would prove he was not what he had been accused of being. I took refuge in his actions, telling myself that there would come a day when that injustice could be corrected, but that day would have to come after Chytrine was defeated. In that way, Hawkins, I did fail you and failed you terribly. Will is right, I really was no friend to you.”

Crow smiled. “No, Highness, you were. You were looking to my mission, which is far more important than I am. Had you asked, that is what I would have told you. Better an hour fighting Chytrine than a thousand hours in my defense.”

Will shook his head adamantly. “There you go, there you both go. Evil is evil. Hurting Hawkins helped Chytrine. Chytrine is evil, so hurting Hawkins was evil. All this being polite doesn’t change that.”

Augustus’ voice took on an edge. “So I was evil in that moment, and can be judged harshly for it? Yes, Will, you have so judged me, but you have judged me no more harshly than I have judged myself. My only solace has come in knowing that my efforts against Chytrine are the best I can muster. I have not compromised in that, and never shall.

“Hawkins may forgive me, or may not. I may be able to set things to rights for him, and I may not. I will, however, accept no compromise in fighting Chytrine. It is by no means a perfect solution, but it is the best solution circumstances permit.”

The thief hesitated for a moment. He wanted to let his outrage at the king’s treatment of his friend override the practicality of the man’s words. I’ll do that, though, it will be as bad as the kings who let fear destroy Hawkins. That realization twisted his guts around and soured his mouth.

Will sighed. “You’re right about fighting Chytrine. Doesn’t mean that what was done to Crow was right.”

“No, it doesn’t, and we will find a way to resolve it. If I have to bankrupt Alcida paying for bards to sing of how Hawkins’ shame was a trap that caught Chytrine, I will.” The king smiled ruefully. “That’s provided we defeat her. If we don’t, those left alive won’t care, and the only songs they will sing will be of misery.”