Mag-log inEmeric POV
I kept my word to Garrett and gave him his ten minutes before I told Alaric about the juniper snuff and the red clay on the sergeant's boot. He listened to all of it without interrupting and asked only whether the cellar door had a lock, and by then it did, because Garrett and Ovid had walked Rusk down there without a fuss, the man going along like somebody who was expecting the errand. Alaric told me to go and sit with Wren, since she would be better off with someone in tWren POVEmeric told it standing in the shed doorway with his good shoulder against the frame, the way he told me everything since the pump, in order and without softening. I kept grinding. Willow bark for Damian's tea, a spoonful to the cup, and the pestle went round while he gave me Merrick's figures and Corwin's three frightened Alphas and the green wash climbing the map like damp up a wall."He didn't refuse it," Emeric said at the end. "I watched it. He asked who Pryce was, and said Malvern would have his answer on the night of the confirmation, in front of the packs, and that nobody was to speak to you of figures before he did.""And what did Duskmoor put on the table?" I asked.He looked at his sling. "Two hundred swords and my word. Merrick said the Crown can only weigh what's laid on the table, and that I hold no pledge from you and no claim on paper." The corner of his mouth moved. "Then I looked at the map. Duskmoor's about the size of my thumbnail."I put the pestle down.
Emeric POVThe house woke up arguing. I heard it before I was dressed, a low, many-voiced murmur coming up through the guest corridor floor like water behind a wall, and by the time I reached the yard it had taken a shape. Margery stood in the kitchen doorway with a cleaver in one fist and a plucked goose in the other, holding court. Two grooms leaned on the pump with their caps pushed back, Dorrie sat on an upturned bucket by the dairy with her apron over her face, and three of Dunmore's retainers, let out of the barn that morning on Alaric's word, stood a little apart from everyone and studied their boots."Nine thousand," one of the grooms was saying. "That's what my brother-in-law hears from the border post. Nine thousand under the heron, and half of ours lying in beds.""They'll not march on a wedding," said the other."They'll march on a refusal." The first spat into the dust. "One girl, against all of us and the children and the winter comi
Wren POVThe Treaty of the Marches says an envoy of a house at peace with the Crown is a guest under any roof he enters, and may not be searched, disarmed, or refused salt, so by dusk the Malvern delegation had been given the whole east guest wing and Margery had been told to feed them. She took it the way she took most royal instructions, as a personal insult to be answered with excellent cooking. Their own wine came in on a mule, six small casks branded with a heron, and she had two of them opened in the yard in front of witnesses and tasted each herself, pronouncing it vinegar, before she let them past the kitchen door.The delegation itself kept the manners of a house at its best. Ten men in grey-green hung heron banners from the guest-wing windows, bowed to the servants, and tipped the stable boys a silver apiece for walking their horses. By noon Dorrie had carried up the tea and come down pink to the ears, reporting that the youngest of them had asked after h
Alaric POVThe Lord Justice arrived at dusk the day before with sixty of the guard and a clerk's wagon, and by morning he had turned the Voss great hall into a court without once raising his voice. He had the pack banners taken down and the Crown's hung in their place, and a plain wooden chair put at the head of the tables for himself. Hallam Merrick was seventy, lean and grey as a winter hedge, and he paused before every noun as if choosing it from a drawer. I had known him since I was ten, and I had never seen him hurry."Your Majesty will sit at my right," he said, "as a witness, not as the Crown. A King who judges a matter touching his own blood is a King the next generation must forgive."I sat.The hall was full, the household crowded into the gallery and the pack's elders along the wall. Rosalind sat in black in the front row with a hand flat on her breastbone, and beside her Damian had been carried in a chair and wrapped to the chin like something precious going to market. Wre
Damian POVWren told me in the order it happened, which was the only way she told anything, and she was gone from the room before I found a single word to put against it. She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands in her lap and her eyes on the quilt, and she said the dead man's name, once at the start and once at the end, as if she wanted to be sure I kept it. When she stood, she turned the lamp wick down a quarter inch, the way she used to for me when I was ill as a boy, and she drew the door behind her without a sound.The wound beat slowly and steadily under the bandage, like someone knocking in the next room, and I found I couldn't lie flat with it. I tried the pillows, then the left side, then the right, and in the end I sat up against the headboard with my knees drawn up under the blanket and counted the ceiling beams. There were eleven. I counted them in a fever at nine years old, and I counted them now, and the number did no more good than it had then.
Alaric POVPerrin finished reading. A bell in the stable yard struck the noon hour, thin and far off, and below it Margery's voice went on calling the cups, tea, water, water, with the flat patience of a woman who had decided that nothing short of a flood would stop the household from eating. I stood at the cold hearth with my bound arm against my ribs and listened to a clerk's paper settle in the quiet. Garrett was still in the doorway with the green book under his elbow, Calla had sat down on the end of her bed,her plait across her knees, and Wren stood at the bedpost with both hands round the wood, so quiet that I could not tell from where I stood whether she was breathing.I knew the law Perrin's paper had touched, because I read it at twenty-two, newly crowned, in the same week as the penal regulations. Every chancery in the realm is bound to report any foundling that matches a Crown notice to the High Herald within seven days. It is one of the oldest statutes







