“I don’t think so,” she said. If there were any inconsistencies in Mouse’s story, Jade would get them out of her. “But we need to be careful anyway.”
She felt her frown deepen. Mouse was young–and probably naive. Emily had no idea of her background, which meant…she had no idea if Mouse’s family were at risk of being turned into bargaining chips. Did Randor know that Mouse had vanished on the same day his daughter had been arrested? Or had Lady Lye brought it to his attention? Or…had Lady Lye kept her mouth shut, fearing the loss of whatever remained of her influence? There was nothing to be gained by being Mistress of the Princess’s Bedchamber when there was no longer any princess.
“We will be,” Cat assured her. “We will be very careful.”
They walked on, skirting the Royal Mile as they made their way towards the river. It added a considerable distance to their journey, but it limited the risk of accidentally encountering soldiers who might actually be alert. The guards on the streets around them didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to anyone, although it was quite quiet. It wouldn’t be long until it was noon and everyone went for lunch.
The air blew hot and cold as they reached the river and watched, just for a moment, as boats and barges made their way towards the docks. A handful of private jetties reached into the water on both sides of the river–there were a number of stone townhouses belonging to the rich and powerful on the far side–but the majority of shipping had to go through the city docks. Emily suspected that would have to change, sooner or later, once the Dockworkers Guild could be convinced to see reason. Imaiqah had told her that the guildsmen had bitterly resisted even the merest suggestion that the docks could be expanded.
Cat took her hand as they strolled up the road towards the Tower. It was clearly visible, even from a distance: an ominous shape looming over the river. The castle had a certain elegance, Emily had to admit, but whoever had designed the Tower of Alexis had wanted to make it very clear the Tower was a prison. It was a stone blocky mass, five stories high, lacking even a handful of visible windows. Anyone who found themselves in one of the cells would be denied sunlight unless they were allowed to use the courtyard.
Cannons on the top, she thought, as they walked closer. And plenty of guardsmen in sight.
Emily felt her heart start to beat faster, as if she were on the verge of a panic attack, a moment before the rune on her chest grew hot. She gritted her teeth against the pain, cursing the designers under her breath. Subtle Magic. They’d protected the Tower with subtle magic. Anyone who even looked at the building for too long would find themselves too scared to move, too terrified to do anything until the guards picked them up. No wonder there were so few people in view. The Tower scared the life out of them.
“The guards must be protected, somehow,” Cat said. His voice was light, but he was squeezing her fingers almost painfully hard. “It wouldn’t be that hard to produce a countermeasure.”
“Yeah,” Emily said. Now she was aware of the effect, and its cause, the pain was starting to fade away. It wasn’t particularly subtle, not like some of the other runes she’d seen at Whitehall and Mountaintop, but it got the point across. “We can make ourselves protective amulets if we can’t find them anywhere else.”
She glanced at him, then eyed the building as they strode towards the gates. Up close, the building appeared to be sinking into the water, as if the softer rock had all been washed away over the years. There was only one visible gate, manned by a dozen soldiers; she guessed there was a second gate on the far side, accessible only by boat. She could sense wards hiding behind the subtle magic too, wards designed to keep sorcerers from spying on the prisoners inside. There was nothing subtle about them. Anyone who tried to use magic inside the Tower would find it very difficult indeed.
We might be able to find a way to break through the wards, she thought slowly, but actually getting into the Tower would be very difficult.
A pair of guards strode up to the gatehouse and stopped. Emily watched, out of the corner of her eye, as they were checked against a list of guards before being permitted to enter the compound. They were both carrying amulets in their hands, carefully holding them up as they entered the gate. Emily guessed the amulets were designed to prevent the wards from snapping at them. It wouldn’t be that hard to use wards to keep the prisoners firmly in their cells. Randor certainly had the money and sorcerers to make the place as close to impregnable as possible.
She closed her eyes for a long moment, trying to think. The Tower of Alexis seemed impregnable, at least without a nexus point. And she didn’t have a nexus point. The closest one was hundreds of kilometers away, and she doubted its owners would let her experiment to find a way to channel power to Alexis. Heart’s Eye was even further away, right on the other side of the continent. She didn’t think she had any way to use the nexus point to bring down the wards without risking a complete disaster.
Cat’s grip tightened, again. “They’re coming up behind us,” he muttered, so quietly that she barely heard him. “Let me do the talking.”
Emily nodded as she heard footsteps behind her. It was hard, so hard, to resist the temptation to turn and look at whoever was behind them. She didn’t like having someone in her blind spot, someone who might try to do her harm. Had they been detected? Had their subtle probes been noticed after all? Or were the guards merely curious as to why they were there?
A hand fell on Cat’s shoulder. He stopped and turned, letting go of Emily’s hand. She followed him and saw a pair of guardsmen staring at them. They were young, their eyes flickering across her face and chest, but they both wore the king’s livery. It was a clear sign that they might be more professional than they let on.
The leader took a step forward. “What are you doing here?”
Blunt and to the point, Emily noted. And not something that’s likely to be misunderstood.
Cat smiled, rather weakly. “My girlfriend and I are having a walk,” he said, indicating Emily with one hand. “We don’t want to be too close to our homes.”
The guards exchanged faint smiles, not leers. Emily blinked in surprise, then realized they were younger than she’d thought. They were tough, wiry men, but she would be surprised to discover that they were out of their teens. One of them had a face so clear of stubble that she couldn’t help wondering if he was a lot younger than she’d thought.
“A walk,” the leader said. He sounded professional. Too professional. “Here?”
Cat winked. “My esteemed friend, her brother, does not come this way,” he said. “Nor do my parents, may the gods bless them.”
Emily kept her eyes lowered, like a good little merchant girl would do if there was even the merest hint of sexual impropriety. Society would turn a blind eye to a great many things, as long as they were private, but an open indiscretion was impossible to ignore. A merchant family would take a very dim view of anything that might call their character into question.
But it doesn’t stop young men and women from walking out together, she thought. And if they’re very careful, they get away with it.
She braced herself, ready to fight if necessary. They didn’t dare let themselves be arrested, even if the guards didn’t have the faintest idea who they really were. Cat’s chit claimed he belonged to a family that had never heard of him, while she didn’t have any chit at all. She wondered, morbidly, just how long it would be before Randor started insisting that girls stayed inside all the time. He really didn’t think very highly of women.
“I suppose they are too busy working,” the leader said. He winked at Cat. “Being here kills the romance though, does it not?”