Free The Innocent Mage by Karen Miller

path leading into the grounds of the guardhouse next door. Another path led in the opposite direction, towards the public chapel. Despite its location in the heart of the City, the atmosphere was hushed. Reverent, almost. As though the weighty matters decided inside the Hall discouraged unmannerly noise outside.
    After greeting the various staff by name, and receiving smiles and greetings in return, the prince headed towards the Hall’s middle entrance. Asher trailed in his wake, feeling like a barnacle in a bed of roses. The surprised, curious stares of the stable hands and guards burned his back. He knew that as soon as he was out of sight they’d be whispering.
    Well, let ‘em whisper.
    The chosen entrance’s decorative wooden surround was painted in crimson and gold. Above the lintel sat a carved relief of the WeatherWorker’s crown, embossed with gold and silver leaf and set with chips of ruby and diamond. As the prince approached, the door’s guards rapped their ceremonial pikes smartly on the ground and stood aside. The prince nodded and smiled and Asher followed him, into the cool splendour of Justice Hall.
    As they passed from sunlight to illuminated shadow his first impression was one of space. The floor, empty of furniture, was tiled in green and gold, with an enormous mosaic of an unsheathed sword in the middle. Gold-framed paintings covered the sandstone walls; past trials, Asher guessed, seeing as how there was a crowned and robed king or queen in each, and somebody smiling, and somebody else in chains, surrounded by guards and looking like their best boat had just sunk. There were two wooden staircases against the back wall, leading up to crimson velvet curtains, each one door-shaped. Between them, set into the rear wall, was a single wooden door. There were two more in each of the side walls. As the prince crossed over the mosaic sword one of the right-hand doors opened and a Doranen woman emerged. She was middle-aged, smothered in sombre blue silk and brocade.
    ‘Your Highness,’ she said in a soft, calm voice, and offered a small bow. ‘Both parties, complete with speakers and witnesses, have arrived and await your adjudication.’
    ‘Excellent.’ The prince turned to Asher who was hovering in the background. ‘Marnagh, this is Asher. Hell be observing the proceedings today. Could you find him an inconspicuous chair in the Royal Gallery?’
    Marnagh swept Asher up and down with a single shrewd look. Whatever she thought of him stayed locked tight behind her pale grey eyes. ‘Of course, Yout Highness.’
    ‘Asher.’
    Asher stepped forward, hands clasped tight behind his back. ‘Your Highness?’
    ‘This is Lady Marnagh. She keeps order in Justice Hall, Without her we’d all be hopelessly lost and I wouldn’t look half as wise as I do, or know a quarter as much about the law.’
    Marnagh laughed. ‘Your Highness is too kind.’
    ‘Better that than too green, which is what I was scant months ago. And don’t bother trying to deny it.’
    Asher managed an awkward bow. ‘Lady Marnagh.’
    She acknowledged him with a nod that made him feel six years old again. He scowled. She smiled.
    The prince started for the staircase on the right. ‘I must prepare for today’s session, so I’ll leave you in the Lady Marnagh’s capable hands, Asher. If there’s anything you need to know, she’ll tell you.’
    ‘Aye, sir,’ said Asher, and watched him run up the staircase and disappear behind the crimson curtain. ‘I don’t bloody believe it,’ he muttered. ‘He’s gone and done it again.’
    ‘Done what?’ asked Lady Marnagh mildly.
    ‘Dropped me in it, then left me in the clutches of some woman I don’t know!’ said Asher, unthinking.
    ‘Indeed?’ said Lady Marnagh. ‘Well, if that’s the worst thing royalty ever does to you, young man, I’d be eternally grateful!’
    Abruptly aware of his audience, Asher flushed. ‘Sorry. Never meant no disrespect.’
    Her severe lips softened.