“It doesn’t. They died a long time ago; I stopped grieving years ago. I hate the bandits who killed them, but Akeem was a true father to me. I was lucky to know him.”
Kristabel put her arm through his, and they made their way down the hillock. “There are bandits everywhere,” she said. “In many forms. People who prey on the bounty that others have worked hard for. The gangs are no different.”
“I know. That’s what angers me about them, just that they exist. And worse, that people accept their existence.”
“I think our gangs are smarter than your bandits; they’ve managed to ingrain themselves in our lives.”
“City and country again?”
“Almost. Though they seem to share the same brutality and hatred. They’re broken people, Edeard. That’s why they do what they do.”
“Are you saying we should show them sympathy?”
“I don’t know what must be done.” She stroked his face, gazing sympathetically at him. “You do understand that everyone is expecting you to provide that answer, don’t you?”
“I don’t have an answer. That’s the Grand Council’s job.”
“They will blame you if no solution comes forward. Can’t you hear their voices? ‘You began this≔ you came to the District Masters with this notion. You excluded gang members from some districts and forced them into others. Why should those districts suffer at the expense of others? What will you do to get rid of the threat you highlighted and went to war against?’ ”
“Oh, Lady,” he groaned.
“You have to find something, Edeard, some way out.”
“There isn’t one.”
“There is at least one, and you know it. Banishment. Permanent banishment from the crystal wall. Exclude them from the whole city.”
“That’ll never happen; Master Bise won’t allow that to happen in Sampalok for a start.”
“Honious take Bise. You’ve got huge political momentum growing behind you. Exclusion has been seen to work. You have to carry it forward. If you hesitate now, you’ll lose that momentum.”
“Banishment? You’re not serious?” His mind went back to the morning of the kidnapping and how he’d been berated by Eddis’s wife. “Where would they all go?”
“I can see how much this troubles you, but I think you’re wrong to worry so. This is one time that imagination of yours is leading you astray. You’re visualizing whole city districts being forced out at gunpoint. Edeard, the real trouble is caused by a couple of hundred people at best. I remember the night Daddy signed the exclusion warrants for Haxpen; you gave him four hundred and eighteen. That’s everybody, Edeard, every gang member you could find. That number is nothing compared to our total population; it’s so small, they’re not even a minority. Get rid of the gang masters and their lieutenants, and the rest will be lost. They’ll rejoin society. They won’t love you, but at least they won’t be causing the kind of trouble they do today.”
“I suppose so. But where will the masters go? That’s just giving someone else our problem.”
“Look,” Kristabel said forcefully, and held her arms out, twirling around to gesture at the entirety of the landscape. “I’ll make Daddy loan you the biggest ship in our fleet, and you can take them to the farthest atoll we can navigate to, or we’ll buy them fifty wagons and lead their caravan into the wilds beyond Rulan. Let them build their own houses and grow their own food. Edeard! You’re not responsible for them, not afterward. You are a city constable, a position that was regarded with utter scorn before you arrived. You made us all feel safe again; you gave us hope. Don’t falter now. Makkathran cannot afford your doubts.”
He stared at her in awe.
She shifted around, discomfited. “What?”
“You are so incredible. I can’t believe you even notice someone like me.”
Kristabel looked at the ground. “But I do.”
“Makkathran is lucky to have you.”
“I won’t be a figurehead for the family, a mere caretaker between Daddy and my firstborn, someone who just votes for whatever the Mayor says. I will make a difference,” she said fiercely.
“I know you will.”
Their last night in the beach lodge together was one Edeard never wanted to end. Again, when the candles had long died, Edeard sprawled over the bed, staring upward as his thoughts slowly came together in realization—not least about what Kristabel had said to him throughout the week, in so many ways, none of which had really registered before. She lay beside him now, her arm across his chest, head nuzzled in the crook of his neck, one leg over his. It was where she belonged. For eternity.
“I love you,” he said in wonder.
Edeard was dreading his return to Makkathran. Some part of his brain enacted the beautiful fantasy of them staying in the beach lodge forever. It wasn’t just their physical union, though Kristabel was all he had ever imagined a lover could be. He didn’t want anything to break the perfection of the week they’d spent together.
“I don’t want to leave, either,” she said at breakfast on their last day.
“I suppose we have to go back,” he said grouchily.
“We do, and don’t sulk.”
“I wasn’t— Sorry.”
“You say that too much, as well.”
“Thanks.”
“I have a present for you,” she said, and instructed a ge-monkey to bring in one of her cases.
Edeard hadn’t noticed it among all the other cases. For someone who’d spent most of the week naked or clad in wisps of silk and lace, she seemed to require a vast wardrobe. Now he leaned over with interest as she opened it and held up the jacket inside.
“A proper uniform for you,” Kristabel said. “I can’t have my man looking ordinary at the ceremony, now, can I? Not on this day. The day.”
Edeard took the jacket from her, admiring the cut and the seriously black fabric. It was a standard constable’s dress tunic but at the same time so much more stylish. Kristabel produced some matching trousers from the case, along with a white shirt, a belt, and a tie.
“Thank you so much,” he said, and then his mood dropped. “I don’t have anything for you.”
She gave him a strange look, almost as if he’d said something hurtful. “That’s because you don’t have any money. And that’s good, because that’s not what I’m looking for in a man.”
“You’re wonderful.” He kissed her.
“We don’t have time; we have to be back in the city by midday. Go and put it on.”
“We could spare a few minutes,” he suggested hopefully. Her finger pointed to the bedroom door. “Go and put it on.” Edeard did as he was told. It fit perfectly, and as he studied himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help the very self-satisfied smile splashed across his face. He did look great.
“Oh, Lady,” Kristabel murmured huskily from the doorway. “There really is something about men in uniform.”
“The tailor got my size just right. Was he spying on me?”
Kristabel’s eyebrow raised a fraction. “I know your exact size,” she purred. “Now come on; we need to get going.”
Strangely enough, when they did get back to the city, he was cheered by the sight of it. The raucous babble of thoughts and longtalk was a reassuring presence. Then there was the familiarity of the buildings and streets and canals, the way no one paid any attention to them as they walked back from the stables, not even bothering with a seclusion haze.
“I’m home,” he decided as the gondola took them along the Great Major Canal to the Orchard Palace.
His squadmates were waiting for him in the Malfit Hall. They gave him a hearty greeting.
“Look at this!” Macsen exclaimed, tugging at Edeard’s splendid new uniform. He glanced at Kristabel, who was chatting away to Kanseen. “Anything to announce?”
Edeard frowned. “No. We had a lovely time. And I’m certainly not giving you lot any details.”
Macsen and Boyd both shook their heads in despair.
&nb
sp; “Still the country boy,” Macsen said sadly.
“What?”
“And have we got some news for you!” Dinlay said proudly.
“What?” Edeard repeated dumbly.
“After the ceremony,” Kanseen taunted. “It needs time to explain.”
“Come on,” Macsen said. “We’d better grab our seats while we still can.”
At Edeard’s graduation ceremony the block of seats had taken up less than a fifth of the available floor space. Today, several families who’d come to watch their sons and daughters graduate had to stand around the walls.
As before, Mayor Owain appeared at the top of the grand stairs, flanked by the District Masters and the Guild Masters. As they descended to the floor, the giant roof above displayed Querencia’s sister planets drifting through an exquisite dawn of wispy gold-tinged clouds.
Owain began his little speech on the makeshift platform. Edeard, who was near the back of the hall, looked along the line of Masters behind the Mayor. This time they all looked attentive, as if gauging the mood of the audience. Their tenseness was a contrast to the excitement and satisfaction of the new constables and their families. Then he saw Bise, whose long face was rigid with animosity; he was staring directly back at Edeard. For a second Edeard was taken aback by the loathing he saw and sensed. He composed himself and met the Master’s hostility with cool indifference.
Loud applause broke out as the first probationer stepped up to the platform and Owain awarded him his epaulets. Edeard applauded politely throughout the ceremony, which lasted a long time. The only time he clapped with genuine enthusiasm was when the probationers from Jeavons station received their epaulets. Young Felax glowed with pride as he hurried back down the steps, holding the small bronze buttons aloft so his parents could see.
Edeard and Dinlay shared a grin at that.
“Oh, Lady,” Dinlay groaned. “Was I like that?”
“I don’t know. I was too busy trying not to trip down the stairs.”
In the row behind them, Chae leaned forward. “You were both an embarrassment,” he assured them.
Edeard knew he was expected to participate in the reception that followed. Not so many months ago, the very idea would have filled him with dread. Now, after all he’d been through, he didn’t care anymore. Besides, Kristabel was on his arm the whole time, smiling and impressing people a lot more than he did. So he took a wineglass from a ge-chimp, refused the canapés, put on his best smile, sealed his mind, and started to tell parents how wonderful their newly qualified constables were and how glad he was that they’d be helping him, and yes, he did think the gangs would ultimately be defeated, and no, he couldn’t give a time scale, it was confidential, and yes, they did have a way to finish the exclusion campaign, and please urge your District Master and Representative to support the warrants.
“We’re splitting into political groups,” Kristabel whispered into his ear an hour into the party. “How very Makkathran of us.”
Edeard scanned with his farsight. She was right. Three distinct groups of Masters had collected on the Malfit Hall’s black floor. One was led by Finitan, who was all smiles and enthusiasm to the District Masters who’d joined the exclusion campaign. Most vociferous among them was Julan, who looked nothing like the broken man of the Festival of Guidance. His enthusiasm was sweeping people along as he greeted families to congratulate them; they weren’t used to talking to District Masters, let alone ones so effusive and pleasant.
“Your father is a talented politician,” Edeard observed.
“Try to say that as if it was a good thing.” Her third hand pinched him sharply on his buttock.
Edeard resisted the impulse to return the jab. Finitan caught his eye and smiled approvingly at Kristabel before turning back to the head of the Fiacre pottery association, whose third daughter had just received her epaulets. There were another eight District Masters in their group, representing Jeavons, Silvarum, Zelda, Drupe, Tosella, Lillylight, Ilongo, and Padua. Finitan also had the Masters for Vaji, Cobara, and Myco in his orbit, where they were being assiduously courted for their support.
The biggest group, clustering in the middle of the hall, were the undecided, still the majority of districts.
Then there were those who formed a picket around Owain. These were the most traditional families, Edeard noted, with Bise at their center. They, too, were glad-handing, chatting happily with the new constables. He was rather perturbed to see that the Pythia was among them. Surely she could see that the exclusion warrants needed to be extended. Then he remembered she had gently refused to prohibit anyone from entering Eyrie. It had been reasonable enough; people should be allowed to attend the Lady’s church.
“This division isn’t good,” he said to Kristabel as the guests started to leave. “Makkathran needs to be united if we’re to defeat the gangs.”
“Quite.” She led him over to Finitan and her father.
“Welcome back,” Julan said. He embraced his daughter, then shook hands with Edeard. There was a slight pause when he looked at Edeard, as if expecting something. Finitan, too, seemed to be waiting. Edeard wasn’t sure what to say.
“Right, then,” Finitan said. “This is as good a time as any. Edeard, while you and Kristabel have been away, we’ve been pressuring the remaining District Masters and Representatives to join the exclusion warrants scheme, sadly to little avail. The Mayor has been equally effusive in opposition to it.”
“But why?” Edeard asked.
“Because, as he rightly points out, we have no conclusion, no final answer as to what to do with these people.”
“I do,” Edeard said, feeling confident after everything he and Kristabel had talked about.
“You do?” Finitan asked.
“Yes, sir. The only thing we can do: banishment.”
“Ah. That’s a bold statement, young Edeard.”
He grinned sheepishly at Kristabel. “It was pointed out to me that although it sounds drastic, the actual numbers of people we need to get rid of are tiny in relation to the city’s overall population.”
Finitan and Julan exchanged a look. “That makes this easier, then,” Finitan said. “It’s quite plain that Owain is going to steer this into another clash in Council, and delaying tactics will work in his favor. We need to grab the initiative back from him, and proposing banishment is exactly the kind of prospect that will galvanize people into supporting us.”
Edeard glanced over at the Masters gathered around Owain. “I don’t understand. I expected it would make things worse in Council.”
“It will,” Finitan said with a smile. “And we can capitalize on that division.”
“Ah,” Kristabel said, nodding in understanding. “Of course.”
“Of course what?” Edeard said.
“I am going to announce my candidature for Mayor,” Finitan said. “And banishing the gangs will be my campaign pledge to the people of Makkathran.”
“What did he say?” Boyd asked as the squad made its way back to Jeavons station after the ceremony.
“That he’s going to run for Mayor,” Edeard told them all. He was still taken aback by the notion, though the excitement was growing. With Finitan in charge, so many things can change. “There’ll be a party in the Blue Tower tonight so he can make a public announcement.”
“Not Finitan, you ass,” Macsen snapped. “Master Julan.”
“Julan? He didn’t say anything. But with his support, Finitan stands a real chance.”
“All right,” Kanseen said. “Forget that. What did you say?”
“I said that I’d support him in any way I could.”
They all gave each other puzzled looks. Edeard could sense their minds closing against him, but not before several traces of irritation and disappointment were manifested. He guessed taking a week off had annoyed them more than he’d realized at the time.
“Okay, then; at least we’ve been busy,” Dinlay said as they passed through the station’s main gate. “Unfortuna
tely, so have the gangs. The gondoliers pulled another body from the canal last Thursday. The second son of a cloth merchant from Igadi district.”
“Lady!” Edeard groaned. “It didn’t take them long to regain their courage.”
They settled in the small hall. Dinlay’s third hand shut the doors behind them. Kanseen sat down on one of the tables, her boots resting on a bench. Macsen directed a ge-chimp to fetch some water. “That was very cheap wine at the party,” he complained as he gulped down several mouthfuls from a glass tankard.
Dinlay pulled a bench over to sit opposite Edeard. His face was exhibiting a great deal of contentment. Boyd sat next to him, trying not to show too much amusement at his squadmate’s attitude.
“So what did the second son do to annoy the gangs?” Edeard asked.
“Nothing,” Dinlay said. “They’re using a variant on the old extortion racket.”
“A clever one,” Macsen said, finishing his second tankard of water.
“They’re not bothering with small shops and stalls anymore,” Dinlay explained. “They’ve moved up a social class to target the smaller merchants. And they don’t ask for money; they want a share of the business itself.”
“It’s a route to legitimacy,” Kanseen said.
“If you’ve got a warehouse full of stock, someone comes along and asks if they can buy a share in your venture. But the thing is, they want to defer payment for that percentage.”
“It’ll come out of increased profits, is what they usually say,” Boyd said. “So far, nothing criminal. Certainly nothing you can use to complain to the constables or courts.”
“Except you know who it is and what they’re asking,” Dinlay continued. “They make that very clear. If you don’t comply, then a family member gets hurt.”
“Or in some cases murdered,” Macsen said. “As with the cloth merchant’s son. Which is extreme, but those are the cases we get to hear about.”
“So we don’t know how widespread it is,” Edeard said.
“No. But everyone is complaining about how prices are creeping up, and there’s no reason. There’s no shortage of anything; the port is crowded with ships delivering cargo, and the city’s warehouses are full.”
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