The Robin and the Kestrel - Chapter Seventeen

[kalinara]

Woo, we made it to the last chapter! It will be interesting to see how things wrap up!

Last time, our heroes rescued a lady and learned the truth about a ghost. Now they're heading back to the city. But what can two little bards do?



We rejoin our heroes as they're waiting in line to get back into Gradford. They don't have their wagon this time (which actually is important to note, for a funny inconsistency at the end). Instead, they're playing at being farmers. Robin notes that it's been six months since she'd had to walk anywhere, and had forgotten what a luxury it was to ride.

That's a bit of a funny bookend to the beginning of the story, where she was thinking wistfully of foot travel and staying at inns.

Anyway, apparently over the last few days, Gradford has changed a LOT:

It started at the gates; they were informed as they entered that their packs were going to be searched for unspecified "contraband." Robin suspected that "contraband" included money, and was very glad that she and Kestrel had hidden the horde of coins they had brought with them in the hems of her drab skirts and petticoats. That was where they had hidden the silk-wrapped pendant as well. It was a good thing they had taken that precaution, as it turned out. Even the clothing in their packs underwent an examination; one woman was found to have a pair of breeches in her bag, and was informed that "decent women are to be clothed decently in Gradford." The Guard gave her a long lecture on what a "decent" woman was and was not—and that if she were found "dressing against her sex" she would be thrown in the stocks for it.

Yikes.

The woman, we're told, was a simple farm-wife coming to visit her sister who'd just given birth. She uses breeches to do heavy chores and had no idea what to expect. A farm cart has been stripped down to its bed in search for "contraband". So yeah, not bringing a wagon was a good idea.

Interestingly though, the guards are very squeamish about women. They search the baggage but not the women themselves, and even shy away from accidental contact. Kestrel gets searched, but Robin does not. (They confiscate some mintak coins for having "images of nonhumans" on them. They're given a chit for the worth to be redeemed at the Cathedral, but in the same breath warned that redeeming the credit would be an indicator of their piety being in doubt. Real devout folk would consider it a donation to the Church.

What a racket!

There's more:

There were rules now, endless rules. So many they made Robin's head swim, then ache. Things that could not be worn, eaten, drunk, said, or done. And they were informed that there was something called a "curfew," that once the bell had rung from the Cathedral signaling that Sixte was over, they had one hour to get inside. After that, only folk with emergencies or official passes had leave to be on the streets.

Public gatherings were prohibited. Public parties were prohibited. Gathering in an inn for the purpose of "idleness" was forbidden. Only those living in an inn were permitted to eat and drink in the inn. Strong drink was prohibited, as were gambling and music.

There are even more rules for women:

And women must not be "forward," must always be "modest and unassuming," in word, deed—and thought. There were more rules about the proper conduct for a woman; Robin let them all wash over her without really noting them. If she did take note, she knew she would become so enraged she would give herself away.

Egads.

Anyway, Robin keeps quiet, letting Jonny do the talking. Jonny plays up the stammer and pulls his forelock and mumbles a lot. They give the names "Jon Brede" and "Jen Brede" and claim to be farmers wanting to visit the Cathedral. There's now a pasteboard for new entries, listing name, occupation, reason for visit, date of entry and description.

They play illiterate, Jonny uses a scythe for his mark while Gwyna uses a flower. Their descriptions include "meek and wifely" for her and "simpleton" for him. It'd be funny if not for the general scarienss of the circumstances. They'll have to present these "papers" if anyone asks to see them.

The inns, by the way, have Guards now. Fortunately, Robin and Kestrel know the city, so they head toward a place near the Warrens where they could pay for sleeping space on the common room floor. To get there, they pass the Cathedral. Even market square is different: there are stalls selling the same merchandise as before, but manned by men in Novice robes. There's even a stall selling God-Stars - but poorer in quality.

More than that, the wealthy houses around the market seem deserted and bare. They wonder if the rich folk, seeing what happened to Orlina, fled. Or if they might be sitting in prison as well. On the plus side, if so, there'll be a lot of witnesses ready to testify against him in Kingsford.

Robin then considers the possibility that the Justiciars in Kingsford might think Padrik is too dangerous to cross. Yeah, that's scary.

Robin uses her expertise to buy some blankets and clothing from the laundry. Apparently they sell things that were left for cleaning but never picked up, for cheap, and it's conveniently worn rather than new.

They are able to rent a room from one of the inns, but it's definitely much MUCH lower quality than the one they'd stayed at before. It's barely large enough for a bed - a thin mattress on a wooden platform. It is clean at least. The window is large enough to climb out of, and overlooks a roof, so they have an entrance or exit as needed. They do decide to take everything they own with them when they leave, as it's likely not to wait for them when they come back.

They have a game plan: one sticks around and one leaves, officially. And they agree pretty easily that Robin should be the one to go: his stutter is too noticeable, and she might not be safe in the room alone. It's nice to see them communicating!

Unfortunately, it means that their plan of showing off Padrik's tricks in private parties is dead in the water. Robin thinks she might have to go to the warren, which Kestrel admits he doesn't like, but acknowledges there's no choice and that she'll be more competent than he is in there. Aw.

Unfortunately, when she goes to see Donner, their Warren friend, he tells her that it's too late.

"What happened?" she asked, feeling desperation creeping into her voice. "Has everyone here gone mad?"


Donnar shook his head. "Ye'd think so," he sighed. "Padrik's got the Mayor an' the whole damn Council in 'is pocket. Couple three days ago, all of a sudden, like, comes all these new rules—an' all these new Guards an' Constables t'enforce 'em, an' the Mayor an' Council just back 'em right up. Padrik must'a been plannin' on this fer a while; most'a these clods ain't from Gradford. I heard they been in trainin' since summer, off on Church land somewheres. But whether that's true—" He shrugged. "I dunno where th' copper came t'hire 'em, but I'd bet it's from Church coffers, an' not the town's."

...I do wish she'd stop writing dialogue phonetically.

But anyway, there's not much point to exposing Padrik's tricks now. And well, as Donnar notes, everyone in the Warren is a criminal anyway, and no one will listen. And Donnar's got a pretty scary idea of how Padrik might be aiming to "clean up the Warren" - he thinks that Padrik will burn it down. So Donnar's leaving soon, through the "Back Door" exit in the sewers.

So now what?

Gwyna goes to buy some lockpicks. Her sex actually helps with this, since there's no way the Guards or Constables would hire a woman to expose anything illegal. She's stuck on the idea of Padrik burning the Warren. He could. He could even claim it's an accident, and the average citizen would thank him for clearing out the criminals, never realizing that it's something that could happen to him too.

...I wish some of this didn't hit quite so hard.

But definitely Robin is feeling very helpless at the moment.

--

There is one interesting thing that happens though. As Robin and Kestrel spend a few days in their room brainstorming, Padrik performs the trick involving the Cathedral-tall angel that had been teased back in the Patsono chapter.

Interestingly, while most people are in awe, a few are a little less enthusiastic.

"Kinda like that red an' green dragon th' Mayor had conjured up fer the Midwinter Faire ten, fifteen years ago," one grizzled oldster said in answer to Gwyna's questions. "Yah, that's what it was like. Like that big ol' dragon. Ye could see through it, ye know, an' it didn' seem t' see anythin'—just smiled an' waved its wings, lazy-like."

The problem with using Faire tricks is that people do go to Faires.

They don't know if Reymond was successful in freeing the Ghost, but they're pretty confident in his ability. And they know he'll be waiting for anyone Padrik tries to exile.

Robin decides that they should attend a Healing Service again, it might give them ideas. Kestrel is on board. They pack up their stuff and head over to their old hiding space near the statue of Saint Hypatia. (Hypatia, we're told, is the patron saint of knowledge and truth-seekers. I wonder if this is a reference to a historical person on Alanda, or a reference to the last Librarian of Alexandria on Earth.)

There's something new in the church though: a bulky item covered with a heavy cloth. Padrik makes his dramatic appearance and everyone cheers and applauds as though he were a popular entertainer. He does his speech, noting the rumors about the Hospice Angel being false, and playing up the idea that the rumors come from evil unbelievers out to spread dissension and lies.

And his proof is under the cloth. It's a cage. And in the cage? T'fyrr!

"This vile creature, this half-demon, was sent to spy upon the godly people of Gradford, and to lead them astray with false tales and rumors," Padrik proclaimed, as T'fyrr pulled himself up to his full height and glared at him through the bars of the cage. His beak had been clamped shut with some iron and leather contraption; he looked half-starved. "He was sent by the evil and decadent Deliambrens, who seek to destroy us and all humankind, to make us into their pets and slaves for their lusts and their amusements—and here is the proof!"

The proof are a few bewildered farmers who admit to seeing the bird-man with a Deliambren. Padrik continues his accusation of demonic conspiracy. Then we get another "demonic visitation". The demon, which conveniently looks a lot like T'fyrr, tries to blast the cage open and "attacks" Padrik. Padrik of course dispatches it easily.

It's literal smoke and mirrors, but it is unfortunately effective. The crowd becomes a mob at this point, wanting him killed, but Padrik is a showman:

But Padrik held up his hands, and the crowd calmed instantly. "We are not animals, we are not monsters, to tear apart our enemies in the heat of anger," he proclaimed, as Robin added nausea to her fear. "The power of God is sufficient to hold this evil, vile creature in his bonds. Nor shall we permit him to disrupt the work we are truly here for, God's own work of healing! We brought him here only that you might see the true face of your enemies, and know them for what they are."

Meanwhile, Kestrel asks to borrow Robin's lockpicks. If you recall, he's actually the better lockpicker of the two. He's going to try to free T'fyrr. Though Robin's not sure what he plans to do next. She figures it out when she senses a bit of Bardic Magic - a "don't notice me" type effect. She joins in, very very softly.

Robin sees something tossed into the cage, then Kestrel is back with her. Apparently he didn't pick the lock so much as get the picks TO T'fyrr, but hopefully that will help.

But what else can they do?

Suddenly Jonny grabbed her hand, and whistled a soft phrase of melody—that of "The Skull Hill Ghost."

Robin gets what he's suggesting. If the Ghost is free, well, maybe they can call it here. The narrative reminds us of the "elf call" from the first book. They can try.

There's a really odd note where, after the two join the line for "healing", we're told that they're so short that they might be mistaken for children. It's been established that both characters are relatively small people, sure, but not child sized. But they move through the line, Robin frantically thinking of what she could ask to be cured of - she decides on infertility when:

Every light in the Cathedral suddenly blew out.

Then the windows darkened abruptly as well, plunging the interior of the Cathedral into thick gloom.

There were screams from outside, as Padrik stopped in mid-sentence, and looked up at the windows, a most unsaintly expression of annoyance on his face.

"What is going—" he began.

But before he could complete his sentence, his final word was obliterated, as a bolt of lightning struck the roof of the Cathedral directly over his head.

Well, Padrik did want to put on a show. And indeed, a chilling wind comes through the hole in the roof, forming into a whirlwind that picks up debris. Robin's seen this before. They've succeeded.

The Ghost is here. And it's five times the height of a normal man this time. Padrik recognizes it, trying to encircle it in a ring of fire. (He's a mage after all!) But the Ghost easily thins the flames with some wind.

We get a pretty dramatic fight scene while poor T'fyrr tries to get himself out of the cage. One of the guards, the only one that doesn't flee, notices and tries to stop him. T'fyrr ends up grabbing him by the throat, taking his keys, and throwing him aside. Nice. He's free.

The guard still tries to do his duty though and rushes him with a sword. He ends up with his throat slashed by clawed hands. Oops. Well, fair game. T'fyrr flies out the hole and disappears.

Kestrel, by the way, ends up throwing the medallion they'd taken from Orlina at Padrik. It distracts him and gets caught in the embroidery of his robe. The Ghost laughs and grabs him, carrying him away. There are screams that die away.

Well, that ends that.

Not really though. The crowd is still pretty maddened and terrified. They decide that this is witches and are about to kill pretty much everyone, then run wild into the streets killing and burning. It's what Donnar had feared.

Robin realizes that they won't listen to HER. She shouts at her husband to say something and stop them.

We get a viewpoint shift to Jonny. And, well, we've had two books now to show us why this is a terrifying situation. But he remembers Harperus's advice. If he can't say it, he needs to sing it.

And thus:

He did not even waste a moment on consideration; he leapt to the top of the altar, and held up both his hands.

And gathered, reached, desperately, for the melody he needed. For the Magic . . .

"Stop!" he cried/sang, his voice ringing out like a trumpet.

The mob obeyed.

People froze in place, staring at him, mouths agape with astonishment.

He tells them everything. And Robin, beside him, starts reproducing the "miracles", flash powder, slight of hand, and then she even finds and exposes the rig for the demon. It's almost a little too easy for a single paragraph of descriptive event, but I suppose it makes sense that she'd be able to do that as this all started with Roma entertainment tricks.

Kestrel tells them the story of the Ghost, murdered and forced to be a personal executioner. He lies a bit, calling Reymond a "holy mage of the Church" who found the truth and set the Ghost free. Aww, I'm not sure it's that much of a stretch. Reymond's a cool guy.

Anyway, it's working. He finishes by telling them to go look in Padrik's quarters, see his luxuries, go to the Patsonos and see the silver and crystal that they're eating from - bought with blood money.

Hm, I kind of feel bad for the Patsonos now. They're going to be in the crossfire, and while helping Padrik was ill advised, they, themselves, didn't murder anyone.

Anyway, the mood is intensified when some of the false priests start to flee from the Cathedral. The mob gives chase.

Robin and Kestrel stay behind. There's an unconscious person near the alter - Robin identifies him as the Patsono Clan Chief and decides to put him in the cage so he can answer a lot of questions. (They check for lockpicks and make sure T'fyrr's set isn't left behind.)

Our heroes decide skipping town is a good plan:

"I've always wanted to see Trevandia," Kestrel declared, even though he had no such longing until just that moment. But Trevandia was the farthest place he knew of from Gradford that still had welcomed Gypsies and Free Bards.

"Why, so have I!" Robin exclaimed. "You know, another kingdom seems like a very good place to be right now!"

They looked at each other for a long moment—then broke into only slightly hysterical laughter.

"Trevandia it is!" Kestrel said, when they could catch their breath. "As soon as we get the wagon."

There was a growling sound in the distance—growing nearer. It was that of an angry crowd returning.

"How about now?" Robin asked, innocently.

We're told they run, hand in hand, until they're past the gates of Gradford and don't look back.

I just want to point out though at the beginning of the chapter, we're told they don't bring their wagon into Gradford. It's in the custody of a friendly inn keeper outside of town. So they CAN get it. And I assume and insist that they do. (As a child, I was very bothered that they'd leave it, and their instruments, behind.)

But anyway, the story ends here.