“Will you dance with me?”
We moved onto the dance floor. He took my hands, showing me the steps.
“You dance well.”
“I was taught by a woman from Karst,” I said, remembering the lessons on the playing field at Tirvan, all those long months ago.
“The one who was killed?”
“You remembered.”
“We’re trained to,” he said simply. “Every man, every officer. And not just to send the messages back to the women’s villages or to brothers or sons in other regiments, but so their lives and deaths are not without meaning. It is what an officer must do. We live our lives to honour those who died.”
I wanted to point out that I wasn’t an officer, but I stopped myself. I had been one when Tice died, and Finn thought of me as such.
The dance ended and another began. Finn guided me through the first steps again, his hands warm around mine. We had just repeated the steps again when another man, one I did not know, came up behind Finn.
“Don’t keep her all to yourself. My turn, now.”
“Josan, you’re drunk,” Finn said shortly.
“No matter. She’s the only woman here. You don’t get her all night.”
“I am not dancing with you,” I said. “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to. I’m dancing with Finn.”
“More’n dancing, too, I’ll bet.” Josan said. He lunged forward, grabbing at my breasts. I took a step back. Finn took Josan by the arm.
“Leave us be.” Others had stopped dancing now to watch.
“I outrank you,” Josan growled, pulling free of Finn’s grip. He lunged at me again. Without thinking, I pivoted, ducked, and came up under his outstretched arm to punch him hard in the stomach. He doubled over. I shoved him hard. He fell and lay groaning.
A round of applause made me look up. “Well done!” Galdor called. I stood panting a minute. Josan moaned again, pushing himself up. Suddenly he vomited, to the disgust of the men nearest.
“Come,” Finn said, pulling me away, back to the tables. He found me wine, and I sat on the bench.
“I think,” Finn said, looking at me with respect, “Josan is lucky you did not have a knife.”
I took a mouthful of the wine. “He is lucky. I didn’t even stop to think.”
Finn nodded. “He isn’t a bad officer except when he’s been drinking, and then, well, you saw what he’s like. Are you all right?”
I nodded. “I am. But, Finn, do others think that you and I—?”
He shrugged. “I doubt it.” He hesitated. “I’m not a man for women, Lena, and most here know that. Even Josan knows that when he’s sober enough to think.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t realize—”
“Why would you?” The music had started again, but this time without the elbow pipes, just the drum and stringed instruments. Someone began to sing. “Shall we join the singing? It’s good fun.”
“Yes,” I said, “let’s.”
The commons still rang with song—somewhat off-key—when I excused myself and left. The watch had changed an hour ago. The newly off-duty junior officers had appeared at the commons, wanting food and drink, determined to make up for the four hours they had missed. We had all eaten again and joined them in more toasts. I was beyond satiated, and more than somewhat drunk. At my tent, I stripped off my outer clothes, falling onto my camp bed, my head spinning. I heard a voice coming from the camp, young and true, raised in solo song:
The swallows gather, summer passes,
The grapes hang dark and sweet;
Heavy are the vines
Heavy is my heart
Endless is the road beneath my feet.
Was Tice’s song mine now, too?
I slept through the watch-change bugle in the morning, waking only when the sun rose high enough to brighten my tent. I had a raging headache and felt more than slightly sick. I wondered how long the revels had gone on.
I drank some water and prepared myself for the day. At the council tent, people had already gathered. Last night, before the merriment had completely taken over, Finn had told me to get here early.
“By custom,” he said, “any off-duty soldier can come to hear the Emperor’s proclamations, and they will. It’s something to talk about, to tell their sons and their lovers, so expect crowds.”
The entire front of the council tent had been opened to allow a standing crowd to hear, if not see, the proceedings. I wondered if I would have to stand, too, but Birel saw me, showing me to a chair inside. Today, only the chair of state and the two advisor’s chairs stood at the far end of the space. Rows of chairs for the audience faced them, with two tables for secretaries at the far edges. Some of the junior officers from the second watch joined me. One of them yawned. His pale hair looked uncombed.
“What time did you get to bed?” I asked.
“Maybe an hour before dawn. We broke up when the first watch left to prepare for duty. You left earlier, didn’t you?” I nodded. “I should have, too.” He groaned. “Maybe I can sleep a bit after this.” He brightened. “I heard you really laid into Josan last night,” he said, grinning. “Good for you. He’s a pain when he’s drunk.”
The space filled quickly, but the front row remained empty, reserved for the petitioners and for the governor of Leste. Maya came in with Alis and Hedda. The other women would listen from outside today. I guessed, turning in my seat to try to see—then wishing I hadn’t moved—that most of their camp had come to hear the Emperor’s decision.
The governor wore the same sea-coloured robe over his tunic and leggings. When he coughed, he reached inside his robe for a handkerchief. He did not sound well. The same two senior officers walked slightly behind him: Blaine and Nevis, I remembered.
Canvas rustled behind the chair of state, and Callan entered through a door I hadn’t seen before, followed by his brothers. We all stood. He too wore the same robes as yesterday, with the addition of a pendant of silver. Casyn wore his uniform, and Colm had dressed in his usual black. He held papers in his hand. They took their seats. We sat, and the tent and the crowd outside settled into silence.
Callan relaxed into his chair. I thought he might stand to speak, but he did not. I wondered if the crowd outside could hear.
“We gather this Midwinter’s Day, the eleventh year of my election to Emperor, to hear my ruling on a petition as well as other decisions of mine that affect the Empire. These rulings are being recorded, and copies will be sent to all regiments and villages. I will speak first to the petition, then on several other issues that pertain to the Empire as a whole, and, finally,” he inclined his head, slightly, to the governor, “on the future of our newest province, the island of Leste.”
“To the petition, then.” The three women stood. As he looked at them, I thought I saw the barest hint of a smile around his eyes. My head pounded. “In the matter of the petition for a new village, I grant the petition.” I heard a gasp from the women and cheering from outside. Thank you, Callan, I thought, watching Maya’s face. She did not smile, but I saw the look of strain replaced by one of quiet acceptance. She had reached for Alis’s hand, before Callan spoke, and she held it still. I saw Alis squeeze her fingers.
When the crowed had quieted again, Callan continued. “I grant the petitioners the land in the eastern valley where they camped this past summer.” He shifted his gaze to address the women direction. “You are charged with following the Partition agreement, or any other agreement that becomes the law of the Empire. If you refuse, you will be cast out. You will be exempt from providing food and other goods to the Empire for a period of five years while you establish your village, but are expected to honour the twice-yearly Festivals beginning in the autumn of this year. I offer you the choice of returning to your village lands now or remaining where you are camped until the spring. If you choose the latter, I will also make available to you the forge and carpentry of this camp, when my men do not need them, to begin to prepare for the construction of a new
village. You need not decide this now,” he continued. “Is there any reply you would like to make?”
“Thank you, Emperor,” Alis said. “May we divide our women, send some back to the valley to clear trees and hunt while others remain here?”
“You may,” he said. “You are now the women of your village, whatever you choose to name it, and your decisions on how you order your village business are your own.”
“We are grateful for your ruling,” Alis said simply. She smiled, looking from side to side at her companions. They sat.
Callan looked over to Colm.
“I now turn to the other matters. It has long been my intent to build a permanent road from the eastern fort to the Wall, at the foot of the eastern mountains. Construction will begin in the spring and will take many years.” A new road, and Maya’s village would stand right beside it. I wondered who had suggested to them that they look for a place to camp on the eastern track.
Alis frowned. The three women conferred with whispered words and gestures, until Colm cleared his throat.
“In the beginning,” Callan continued, “the work will be done by those men of Leste who would not submit to my authority and are now slaves.” At the mention of Leste, I glanced at the former king. Elon’s eyes narrowed. “But in the future, it will not be so. Already, we teach boys to design and build those structures needed by the Empire—roads, bridges, canals, but they learn this trade as soldiers. Now, this trade will be one of the choices cadets can make at twelve years of age. It will be considered an equal choice to the others, in service to the Empire, and will carry with it all the rights of those in Empire’s service. Like the choice of becoming a medic, it will be without the requirement to learn the arts of warfare beyond self-defence.”
Now Valle has a choice, I thought. Watching the men, I saw surprise, even astonishment, in the quick glances to each other. Several eyes went straight to Colm. Did they think him the architect of this? Outside, I heard murmuring. I wondered what the senior officers thought.
The Emperor waited, watching us. When he had our attention again, he spoke once more.
“There is one more proclamation,” he said, “addressing the Partition agreement. When I asked, in the spring, that the women’s villages be active in the defence of Tirvan against the threat from Leste, I was also asking them to break with the agreement made at the Partition assembly. They did so. Therefore, it is my belief, and, I understand, the belief of many women in the villages and at the inns, that a new assembly is required, either to reaffirm the Partition agreement or to create a new agreement. The assembly will take place three weeks after Midsummer. Three women will be chosen from each village, three will represent the inns, and we will have an equal number of men. This will,” he said, with a nod to Alis, “include the newly-formed village. The new assembly will be held here.”
This proclamation drew more glances, but less surprise, among the men. The women again conferred in whispers. The officer beside me leaned over. “By the god,” he whispered, “there’ll be lots of talk in the commons and the tents tonight. These are enormous changes, Lena, more than any Emperor has decreed in decades, centuries, maybe. And not popular with all, I think.” His brow furrowed as he spoke.
Colm rose to speak to the secretaries. I saw them find new paper and check their nibs. When Colm returned to his seat, Callan spoke again. “Now I will speak to the future of Leste. This fair island is now a province of the Empire. The former king, Elon,” he inclined his head to him, “governs there, assisted by a council chosen by me. But if Leste is a province of the Empire, then its laws must reflect those of the Empire. To this end, all Lestian men and boys between the ages of twelve and fifty-five will enter military service in the spring. Next year, we will take boys at eleven, and the following year, ten, until boys leave their home villages at seven to be prepared for service. Men beyond the age of service will be charged in teaching women the skills and trades that will be required of them. Of changes in taxation, and the laws of marriage and inheritance, I will speak privately with the governor and his council.” He looked to Elon. “Do you wish to speak?” Elon stood, the effort making him cough.
Suddenly, I heard commotion and shouting, the jangle of harness. Callan raised a hand for silence. The tent flaps parted, and a soldier came in, dressed for riding, and splattered with mud. In his hand, he held a folded piece of paper.
“Emperor,” he said, without hesitation, his eyes on Callan. “The Wall has been breached, and the north is attacked. Here is the report.” Officers stood at the words, blocking my view. I slid along the seats, ignoring the nausea the motion caused to move to the side of the tent, where I could see. The messenger strode forward, handing the paper to Callan.
Callan broke the seal, scanned the paper quickly, then handed it to Casyn. “Our thanks, soldier,” he said. “Senior officers, Advisor, attend me. This audience is over.”
Casyn looked down at the paper. He said something, one word, I thought. A name? I saw Callan hesitate, a moment of indecision. He glanced at his brothers before all three turned.
The conquered king of Leste stood, coughing, slightly bowed, a handkerchief at his mouth, with Nevin and Blaine at his side.
“Nevin,” Callan said, his voice oddly gentle, shaded, I thought, with grief. “Your son, so recently commander in your stead, opened the gates to the northerners. Why?” I looked from the Emperor to his officers, trying to understand.
Elon straightened. His hand dropped from his mouth, returning the handkerchief to a pocket of his robe.
“No!” Casyn roared. He grabbed Callan by the shoulders, pushing, turning him away. The Emperor twisted desperately, hampered by his heavy robes. A knife flashed, turning end to end across the small space. Soldiers moved quickly, pulling out weapons. A body leapt, blocking Callan from the blade. I heard a gasp, a truncated scream. Chairs fell around me, and men shouted. Frozen, I stared at the man dying in his brother’s arms. The blood soaked, unseen, into the black fabric of his tunic.
Callan’s face contorted as he looked down at his brother. “Colm,” he said, the sorrow and love in his voice palpable, “Oh, Colm. I saw the meaning too late. I am so sorry, my twin, my little brother.” Gently he lowered his brother’s body to the floor and stood to embrace Casyn. They stood with bowed heads for a moment. I looked away. Nausea threatened to overwhelm me.
The Emperor turned to the room. A second dead man lay on the floor: Elon, his throat cut. Callan looked down at him coldly.
“I would like to leave him on the hills for the carrion birds,” he said, anger in every syllable. “But his body must go home to Leste. Otherwise, they will say he is not dead, and he will become a hero waiting to free them from bondage.” He glanced at the two men who had guarded Elon, standing defiantly beside the dead king. Blood gleamed on the blade in Blaine’s hand. Callan turned to his soldiers. “Take them,” he said. Nevin shifted, as if to run, but he had no chance.
“As for those who plotted with the king of Leste,” he said, pitching his voice to clear steel, “death is their reward. Major,” he said, looking to Turlo. “See to it at once. Then join us for a council of war.” His eyes dropped to Colm’s body.
“My brother will be buried here, with the full honours given to those who die in service to the Empire,” he said, his voice gentle now, but still commanding. “Two hours from now, on the hill. Then we ride north.” Callan and Casyn lifted Colm’s body together to carry him out of the council tent.
I pushed forward through the jumble of chairs and people, ignoring my headache. Officers hurried from the tent, shouting orders. The three women huddled together. A spray of blood stained Alis’s tunic. She had been closest to Elon when Blaine had cut his throat. Maya and Hedda seemed shocked. “Come outside.” I shepherded them through the confusion of the crowd outside. Maya clung to Alis and would not look at me.
I found the rest of the women standing together, confused. One woman, seeing the blood, turned Alis toward her, searching for
injury.
“Are you a healer?” I asked.
“A midwife,” she said. “Is Alis hurt?”
“No, just shocked. The blood isn’t hers. Take them back to the camp and give them hot tea with lots of sugar. They just saw two men killed.”
“Dear goddess,” the midwife whispered. “We don’t belong here.” She began to shepherd the others away.
I called after her. She turned. “There is war coming again. From the north, across the Wall. This camp, these men, will be riding north in a few hours. Look to your safety.”
She looked frightened. “Where should we go?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I saw other women turn to look at me. “I don’t know where you might be safe. I don’t know what these invaders, and those of the Empire who helped them, want. You must make your own choices.” I knew my words sounded cruel, but I had nothing else to give them, not right now. “If I learn more, I’ll try to bring word,” I added, to soften the message.
Later, I walked down to where the junior officer’s tents had stood. Finn and Galdor were overseeing the collapse of the camp. They greeted me, but their orders occupied them, and they made no attempt at conversation. I stood for moment, undecided, before speaking.
“How did the Emperor know, Finn? About Nevin and Blaine?”
“The paper the rider brought,” he said slowly, “must have said exactly where the Wall was breached. Nevin’s son commands a section of the Wall. And Blaine…” He stopped.
“Was Nevin’s brother.”
He nodded.
“Why?” I said softly. “And why did Blaine kill Elon?”
Finn shook his head. Galdor shrugged. “The second question is easier,” he said. “Elon was their co-conspirator. With Elon dead, there would be no one to bear witness against them. As to why, I don’t know,” he admitted. “But this is older than the Emperor’s proclamations today, older than the battle with Leste this year. I’ve heard it said Blaine wanted to be Emperor, but realized he stood no chance against Callan in the vote.”
Empire's Legacy- The Complete Trilogy Page 35