She allowed them to consider the prospect for a long moment. In the short term, it might be useful; in the long term, it would be disastrous. No one would take a child-king seriously, not unless he had a truly powerful regent…and appointing a regent would open up a whole new can of worms. It would be impossible to trust him for very long. Lillian had no illusions about her peers. They were ambitious as hell. They’d take the regency and twist it into something no one had ever intended.
“I have a better idea,” she said. “There is one other potential heir left…”
Chapter Eight
CHATHAM WAS LARGER THAN EMILY HAD expected.
The town stood on the river, a cluster of houses, warehouses and a handful of factories that looked strikingly new. It was clear that it had expanded rapidly in the last few years, after the New Learning had been introduced; even now, with the threat of civil war looming over the country, Chatham looked remarkably prosperous. The streets were clean, the population looked well-fed, industrious and happy. She hadn’t seen anything like it outside Cockatrice itself.
And yet, there was a nasty edge in the air. It wasn’t something she could put her finger on, but it was there. Broadsheet criers walked the streets, inviting people to buy their wares; men and single women carried weapons, their eyes flickering from side to side as they hurried about their business. She couldn’t see any reason for them to be fearful, but fear hung in the air like a cloud. It was all the worse, she thought, for not having an obvious cause.
“Nice town,” Cat commented, as they passed through the gates. “I could take it with a hundred men.”
Emily nodded, shortly. Chatham’s walls were largely pro forma. They’d keep out bandits, she thought, but little else. The town was effectively undefendable, even against a pre-gunpowder army. Randor would have no difficulty force-marching his army up the river and taking the town in an afternoon, if he wished. It wouldn’t even leave his city defenseless long enough for anyone to take advantage of the opening.
Jade hopped down and hurried over to speak to Coffman. Emily wondered, absently, just what they’d say to one another. Coffman had been urging Jade and Cat to stay with the convoy, even dropping unsubtle hints about how Jade’s wife could join them too. She wasn’t really surprised, despite the merchant disdain for sellswords. Jade and Cat had actually behaved themselves on the trip.
“We could take a boat down the river to Alexis,” Cat offered. “Or simply hitch a ride to the city.”
“We’ll see,” Emily said. She’d never realized how much logistics went into traveling even a relatively short distance. Teleporting made it so much easier. Or cars…she thought, wistfully, of cars and buses and trains. It would be a long time before the railway line was extended to Chatham. “We’ll have to pick up the local chatter first.”
Jade came back, looking amused. “We have guaranteed employment if we want to rejoin the convoy in a week. They’re heading to Cockatrice.”
“It might be a good way to escape, if we can pull off a prison break by then,” Cat pointed out, seriously. “No one would expect us to take the risk.”
“Because we don’t have to take the risk,” Emily countered. “Once we grab Alassa, we can teleport to Cockatrice or Swanhaven.”
Jade cleared his throat. “In any case, we are now dismissed from the convoy,” he added, wryly. He scrambled up into the front seat and cracked the whip. “We need to go find an inn.”
Emily waved to Linder as the wagon lurched into motion, heading down the main road. The streets were crowded, although nowhere near as bad as Alexis or Beneficence; they had no difficulty navigating the roads. She kept her eyes open, noting the presence of armed guardsmen at crossroads, watching for trouble. There didn’t seem to be many mercenaries in the city, as far as she could tell, but that didn’t stop worried glances being aimed in their direction. A couple of mercenaries were two too many, as far as the town was concerned.
“We need to pick up a couple of broadsheets,” Jade said, as they passed another crier. “They won’t tell us the truth, but at least they’ll tell us what lies the king wants us to believe.”
“Or the nobility,” Emily said. Zangaria hadn’t quite got the idea of a free press. The broadsheets were a combination of the worst of tabloid journalism and the devious misrepresentations of Pravda. “I doubt we’ll learn anything too useful from them.”
They pulled up beside an inn and Jade clambered down, hurrying inside to get a room. Emily allowed her gaze to wander down the street as she waited, noting that there were seven inns on the same street. It looked odd, as if they were forced into cutthroat competition, but she could see the logic behind it. The innkeepers could hardly rent the same room out to several different people at the same time, while the town council probably liked the idea of keeping all the outsiders in the same general area. Chatham might survive and prosper through trade, but the residents wouldn’t welcome too many guests.
She shook her head, ruefully. Chatham was too small, despite the recent expansion, to take many runaway serfs, let alone offer them the opportunities they needed. She had a feeling that most runaway serfs headed to Alexis or tried to catch a boat to Beneficence or Cockatrice. There had been complaints from the other barons, if she recalled correctly, about underground railroads being set up by former serfs. The barons hadn’t been able to do anything about it, either. A serf who escaped arrest for a year and a day was a free man.
Jade returned, looking grim. “No room at the inn,” he said, flatly. “Wait here. I’ll check the next inn.”
Emily felt cold. If they couldn’t find an inn…what then? They could sleep in the wagon, if necessary, but that might wind up with them being arrested for vagrancy. Chatham wasn’t likely to let strangers sleep on its streets. They’d have to bribe the guardsman who caught them or…or do something to him. She really didn’t want to have to kill a guardsman. The entire town would be after them.
“Success,” Jade called, running back to them. “We have a room. Let’s get the horses put away.”
“Thank the gods,” Cat said. “I was starting to worry that your face was putting them off.”
“I’m not the one with a face like a squashed tomato.” Jade snorted, rudely. “I think the last inn was genuinely full.”
Emily helped the boys lead the horses to the stable, then followed them up the stairs and into the room. It was surprisingly clean, although she supposed she shouldn’t have been too surprised. The New Learning had been good for Chatham. Everyone knew that insects–and coughs and sneezes–spread diseases. No one would bat an eyelid here if an innkeeper who skimped on the cleaning was marched outside, stripped naked and scrubbed thoroughly with a wire brush. The town even smelled better than average. Anyone who threw their wastes into the street could be assured of a beating. It wasn’t pleasant, but it worked.
“I could live here,” Cat said, stretching out on the bed. “Which cover story did you tell them?”
Jade shot him a reproving look. “We’re hired guards, looking to spend our bonuses before we go back on the road,” he said. “I did tell you all this, you know.”
Emily rolled her eyes at the bickering as she inspected the washroom. It was primitive, but at least it was clean. They wouldn’t need to use chamberpots this time. And there was running water…cold running water, admittedly, but still running water. She splashed some on her face, then tied her hair into a long ponytail and brushed down her clothes. There was no way she’d be taken for a local, particularly after she opened her mouth, but at least casual watchers wouldn’t assume she was a streetwalker. It would probably be better to claim she was Jade or Cat’s sister.
The boys changed into casual clothes, hiding their leathers under the bed even though they kept their weapons with them. They didn’t look like mercenaries any longer, thankfully; they looked like young blades around town. Emily had a feeling it wouldn’t fool anyone for very long–Chatham was still too small for a young blade to be a complete stranger–but it was unlikely that anyone would connect Jade with the Prince Consort. She just hoped that Randor’s men weren’t on the lookout for Cat too.