Aldric Thornmoor's Arc

Chapter 13 of 16

Aldric stepped into the council hall with the beggar's cloak on his shoulders and the folded proclamation against his heart. The chamber smelled of wax and old wood. Five councilors sat on the raised bench. The guilty one, the one missing the tip of his left thumb, saw Aldric and did not stand. He smiled instead. That smile told Aldric what came next. "A beggar has wandered in," the councilor said. "Remove him." Aldric pulled the beggar's rags off and let them fall. His dark cloak underneath was travel-stained but plain. He held up the folded page. A clerk near the bench squinted at it and looked away. No seal. No wax. No ceremonial mark. Without that mark, the council was not required to hear a word. "He carries nothing," the clerk announced. "No herald's stamp. No standing." Two guards moved toward Aldric from the side aisles. He had one breath left before hands closed on his arms. A sound above the rafters. A soft drop. Corwin Nightshade landed on the tiled floor behind the guards without seeming to have fallen. Gold eyes. Ashen skin. He did not look at Aldric. He walked past the guards as if they were furniture and set something on the flagstones at Aldric's feet. A bundle. Folded cloth, heavy. Corwin flicked one corner open. Red and blue and green panels showed, small painted crests stitched in rows, gold trim along the sleeves. A herald's robe. Aldric knew the pattern. It was his own, the one they had stripped from him, cleaned and mended. "Found in a crypt outside the district," Corwin said flatly. "With other things your councilor hid." He lifted a small object between two fingers and set it on top of the robe. A brass seal-stamp. The council's ceremonial mark. The guilty councilor stood up fast. "That is stolen property." "Then he stole it from you," Corwin said. He looked at Aldric once. "The rest of our deal stands." He walked out the side door before any guard thought to block him. Aldric knelt. He pulled the robe over his shoulders. The weight of it settled into a shape his body remembered. He pressed the brass stamp into the soft wax at the top of his page. The mark bit deep. He held the stamped proclamation up. The clerk went pale. By the compact's own rule, a sealed page from a robed herald had to be read into record. The councilors could not refuse it without breaking their own law in front of witnesses. "Read it," the eldest councilor said. His voice was tired. Aldric could not read it. His voice was still gone. He walked forward and laid the page on the bench. The eldest councilor picked it up. He began to read aloud. The guilty councilor sat down slowly, as if his knees had decided for him.