*
In Almont, Eleanor left Lauren in the Old Barrel Yard while she went off to speak to her spies at the palace. She couldn’t let herself be seen, so she took a slow route across the rooftops and let herself in through a skylight in the servants’ quarters. Allie, her favourite source, should have been back from her evening duties but her tiny bedroom cubicle was empty. Eleanor sat on the bed to wait.
“Eleanor, hi!” Allie’s face broke into a smile when she saw her unexpected visitor. “Sorry, have you been here long? Tom’s ill so Janine had me doing all sorts of extra errands, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to bed.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got all night. Are we safe to talk here?”
“Yeah, Tom’s out like a light, and Amber’s on the night shift.” As she spoke, Allie indicated the wooden partition walls to either side of her bed. “No-one’s going to hear us.”
“Great. I need some information from you – on Rowan’s children, if you’re okay with that.”
Allie nodded. “Sure, what do you need to know?”
“Anything you can tell me. For a start, do they live here in the palace?”
“Yeah, in the north wing.”
“With guards?”
“Of course. Not too many, though, just occasional corridor patrols. And I think you could pay the C watch to fall asleep on the back gate.”
“Oh, really?” Eleanor smiled. “Now that is good to know.”
“It is your people, then, who’s been causing these so-called accidents?”
“You know I can’t tell you things like that.”
“Oh, I know, sorry, I shouldn’t ask.” She didn’t look sorry at all. “It’s just that I thought it must be you but, well, everyone here’s so sure about the accidents. We’re not allowed to even talk about the revolution, we have to pretend nothing’s happening out there, even now there’s so much of the city fallen.”
Eleanor nodded and swiftly changed the subject. After she’d got all the information she needed about the boys and their protection, she headed back to the Old Barrel Yard for the night. Except for the guards hovering by the door, the bar was empty when she got in. She knocked at Lauren’s door but got no response, so she pushed her way inside. The bed was empty, sheets undisturbed.
She went to the next room and knocked, rousing Ade from his bed and causing Nasha to murmur in sleepy protest.
“Have you seen Lauren?” she asked. “She didn’t tell me she was going out.”
“She left not long after you,” he said. “She didn’t say where she was going, though, and you know I’m not daft enough to ask questions of a woman like that.”
“Okay, thanks.” She went back to her own room in silence, a little troubled. Lauren surely wouldn’t be stupid enough to just go out for a walk, when any of the Shadows would recognise her for a traitor. And if they did find her, what then? Would they kill her straight away or torture her for information on the revolution? If they guessed that she’d gone into the Association, they’d realise she had valuable knowledge.
Dawn was beginning to break – and Eleanor had hardly caught a wink of sleep – when she heard a door swing open. She sat up, throwing knife grasped in her left hand while her right hand gripped the hilt of her stiletto. It hadn’t been her door, anyway. Hoping the hinges were still well-oiled, she opened her door and looked around. No signs of life.
She padded across to the top of the stairs, bare feet making no sound on the wooden floorboards, and peered down into the dark hallway below. There was a glimmer of light filtering through the crack under Lauren’s door.
She walked down and knocked, weapons still ready in case it wasn’t Lauren who’d come back.
“Eleanor,” Lauren opened the door with her shirt half unfastened, and her hair falling loose around her shoulders. “What’s up? I was just getting ready for bed.”
“I wanted to check you were okay,” Eleanor said.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? I was just scoping out the palace.”
“You went out in the city without telling anyone your plans. And anyone could have seen you.”
“You worry too much.” Lauren continued undressing as she spoke, and climbed into bed. “I’ve been looking after myself in the big city for years. See you in the morning.”
She turned to face the wall. The blatant dismissal grated, but Eleanor could hardly blame her. She’d react just as badly faced with the level of mistrust they’d inflicted on Lauren. She turned and tiptoed back to her own room, trying to avoid disturbing Ade and Nasha again.
She slept more soundly now she knew Lauren was back, and woke late. Not that it mattered; there was little enough they could do today. The guards Allie had talked about, the ones who might be sympathetic if a few dollars passed their way, wouldn’t be on shift for another two nights.
Eleanor dressed and went down to the bar to see what Ade could offer by way of breakfast. She found Lauren already hunched over a bowl of millet porridge.
“Sorry I was short with you,” she said, blushing as she looked up. “But I get... kind of frustrated sometimes.”
Eleanor nodded. “I get it.”
“You do?” Lauren smiled, her whole face brightening. “Of course you do. You’re very like me.”
“So what did you find out?”
Lauren looked confused for a moment, then: “Oh, at the palace! Yeah, it doesn’t look too bad, does it? I mean, we can take them on. No problem. It’s not like they’ve put Shadows watching the kids.”
“I’ve got even better news,” Eleanor said. “My source says the guards who’ll be on the gate the night after tomorrow could be persuaded to turn a blind eye, for a small incentive.”
“Do we even need to wait for that? It seemed manageable. If we wait, we just give them time to find out.”
“I trust my contact,” Eleanor said. “It won’t leak.”
“Thought you didn’t trust anyone?”
“I don’t trust anyone with everything, but I trust her with this. It’s a gift, we might as well take it.”
Lauren looked about to argue, but thought better of it.
They spent the next couple of days hanging around in the tavern, occasionally stepping out into the courtyard for some friendly sparring. Various guests dropped in, once word spread that Eleanor was back in town, and for her part she was glad to be back in a place where no-one challenged her authority. Well, no-one except Lauren, and she did it only with sullen looks when she thought Eleanor wasn’t watching.
At last, evening fell on the appointed day. Ade prepared a quick dinner of sausages and potatoes, they refused their usual spiced ale in favour of cold water and steady hands, and they went to get ready. As Eleanor strapped herself into light leather armour and fastened weapons against her skin, she wondered again why she’d talked herself into this. She didn’t even agree with Daniel – and, if she was honest, most of the others who also took the same view – that it was the quickest way to end the war. On the other hand, her abstention would change nothing. The children were as good as dead; this way, their deaths would help Lauren if no-one else.
Lauren was waiting for her in the bar, chatting and joking with Ade. “Ready?” she asked as Eleanor came downstairs.
“Ready,” Eleanor said.
They made their way to the Marble Quarter over the rooftops, as usual, although Eleanor insisted on taking a route that was even more indirect than usual, following paths she hadn’t used since her days at the academy. She didn’t want any chance that they’d be intercepted on their way.
The palace stood too far removed from its neighbouring buildings for a rooftop approach to take them all the way. In a broad street behind the royal stables, they dropped to the ground and looked around. As expected, it was quiet. In their camouflage greys they blended easily into the shadows between the colonnades, but if they had to walk through wide avenues in the open then their very disguise would make them conspicuous.
They’d discussed their plans endl
essly over the preceding days, so there was no need for words as they crept along, keeping close to the walls for cover. One of the horses reared and neighed in panic behind the stable door; they froze as the stablehand went to comfort the animal, but thankfully he didn’t turn to see what had caused the disturbance. Maybe the horses often took fright at nothing. Eleanor would have thought better of the Empire’s best mounts, but she was glad of the servant’s casual inattention.
They made their way to one of the palace’s many back gates. Eleanor had her darts at the ready lest the guards be less co-operative than Allie had predicted, while Lauren drew her dagger, keeping the blade out of sight beneath her cloak. They waited in the shadows until they saw the perimeter patrol guards go by, leaving just the two men with crossbows who flanked the gate.
Eleanor hung back, blowpipe gripped between her teeth, while Lauren stepped forwards to offer them money and sleeping potions.
“We’re happy to compensate you for your trouble,” she explained. “And you’ll feel just fine when you wake up.”
“What if I don’t trust you?” asked one man, levelling his crossbow bolt towards Lauren’s chest. “It could be poison.”
“If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn’t be asking your permission. Now are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
The two men looked at one another, then one of them reached out his hand. “Deal,” he said.
Lauren passed him five dollars, which he pocketed, and a vial filled with a gentle sedative. He threw it back in one mouthful, and sat back against the wall to wait for the effects to kick in.
“And you?” Lauren asked the second guard, who still held his bow uncertainly.
“Fine,” he said, as his colleague’s head started to droop.
Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief as he, too, drank the potion without any further complaint. This was so much less messy than the alternative. Once they were both unconscious she pulled a flask from her waistband and splashed spirits over their shirts; if the men were discovered, it would just look like they’d had a little too much to drink. They’d be punished, of course, but being drunk on duty was hardly a rare occurrence. Unlike if they’d needed to slit their throats, this shouldn’t cause anyone to panic or search for intruders.
Lauren leaned over the first guard and slipped her hand into his pocket.
“What are you doing?” Eleanor asked.
“Getting our ten dollars back,” Lauren said. “They’ll be strung up by morning, so they won’t miss it.”
Eleanor didn’t know what to say to that.
“What, you didn’t think they’d get away with this?” Lauren asked. “They’ll make an example of everyone on duty in the north wing tonight.”
Allie’s instructions had been detailed and precise, leading them through silent corridors towards the suite of rooms where the young princes were housed. They moved steadily and with caution, but as expected, they passed no more guards. Protection was always focused on the outer walls; a threat from within was an idea that had never been taken seriously in an Empire whose power was kept strong by its citizens’ own belief in the notion of perfect assignment, and if Allie was right, the palace was still in denial. For decades the rebels had been viewed as nothing more than crazed drop-outs, with only themselves to blame if they’d rejected their assignments, or religious nutters whose views couldn’t be taken seriously. Despite the war raging outside their gates, the Imperial family was clearly having a hard time keeping up with the threat. It was only recently that their ‘rule by consent’ had come under any serious question.
Eleanor caught herself enumerating all the things she’d do differently if she was in charge of palace security. A few traps in the corridors, perhaps, or just armed guards at every doorway. She caught herself, and almost laughed at her own naïveté. Of course they’d rejected such ideas. Within the palace, the Imperial family wanted to be able to come and go as they pleased without worrying about traps. And they certainly didn’t want to see guards everywhere, spying on their movements and reminding them of their own mortality.
They reached the door they’d been looking for and Lauren kicked it open, clearly enjoying the chance to extend her muscles. The crossbow bolt came as if from nowhere, and she threw herself to the ground just in time. Eleanor stepped across and flung two battle stars through the door, though she was too startled to aim properly and his cry of frustration told her that she’d wounded rather than killed the shooter. As she flattened herself against the wall outside the door, she cursed herself for being too hasty. She probably hadn’t done enough damage to stop him using his bow, meaning he could easily take another shot at her when she went back to finish him off.
Lauren had rolled out of the way and crouched on the other side of the door. Eleanor waved at her to get ready, and once they each had stars in both hands she leaned around the doorframe, aiming more carefully this time.
It was then that she saw their assailant wasn’t alone. Far from it, in fact. The little reception room was positively crowded with armed guards. She took down the original bowman and one of the others, and Lauren mirrored her actions – catching one and missing another – but seven still stood.
She caught Lauren’s eye and held up her fingers to signal how many they were up against. Only one of those remaining had a crossbow, the others just carried swords, but they were sufficiently outnumbered that it would still be a tough fight. Eleanor took the harping knife from where she’d strapped it across her back, and pulled a stiletto from her boot sheath. By the time they looked around the door again, she was sure, the guards would have ducked for cover. There was no way to take them down without going in themselves.
“Should we go?” Lauren asked. “Come back another day, when they’re not expecting us?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Let’s finish this.”
They stepped into the room together, and Eleanor ran headlong towards the sofa which partially shielded the guard with the crossbow. A couple of others came at her from the side, but she ignored them, even as she felt the first blows. She had to put the bow out of action before she could even think about hand-to-hand.
Lauren came up behind her and engaged one of the swordsmen, buying her enough time to vault over the top of the sofa and stab the short blade of her harping knife through the throat of the bowman. When she turned back Lauren was fighting with both hands. The remaining guards had surrounded her, and she was surviving only by keeping those she was fighting as a living shield between her and the others. Whenever one of them tried to dodge around and bring his sword down, she forced one of his colleagues to duck in such a way as to deflect the blow. If it hadn’t been so serious, Eleanor would have enjoyed the show. Here was a master at work: Lauren danced with her blades.
But there was no time for appreciating artistry. One mis-step would be all it took for the whole thing to come crashing down. Eleanor pulled throwing knives from her belt and watched for a few more heartbeats until she was sure she’d got a feel for Lauren’s rhythm. Then she stood, loosed two blades towards the guards on her left, turned, and flung two more to her right. Three of the four blades sank home in the throats of their intended targets; the fourth clattered to the ground.
Two guards turned their swords on her then, leaving Lauren fencing with just one swarthy woman. Eleanor swung the harping knife in a bold defensive pattern, knowing she could hold them off for quite some time. She didn’t even need to press the attack. If she could just keep them occupied, Lauren would finish the job.
She fell into an easy rhythm, knocking away attacks from one side then the other, trying at every turn to cause the two of them to get in one another’s way. Block, turn, block, twist, block, step, block, duck... and then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Lauren go down.
Eleanor threw herself to the ground, rolling between her opponents’ feet, relying on the element of surprise to buy her a few heartbeats. She arrived just in time to knock the woman away from Lauren, smashing her h
ead into the stone floor.
As the others came for her again, she knocked the sword of one through the chest of the other, and sliced his throat open while he struggled to free his blade.
She stopped to draw a couple of deep breaths, then turned to help Lauren to her feet. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just bruised.” Lauren dusted herself off, and started to retrieve her weapons. “You swore this wouldn’t leak.”
Eleanor stared at the bodies now surrounding them, hardly believing it herself; she counted ten.
“I was so sure,” she said, shaking her head. “But this is why we don’t trust anyone, right?”
Even as she said it, though, she couldn’t bring herself to believe Allie had turned against them. Allie, who’d frequently been beaten and raped by Rowan himself when she’d lived in the Imperial harem, before he’d grown tired of her and had her dismissed into the palace cleaning staff. If even Allie couldn’t be trusted, what hope was there for anyone else?
“Right,” Lauren agreed.
Eleanor pushed open the door to the boys’ sleeping quarters. “So we’d better get on with this before someone notices this mess,” she said.
Thankfully, the noise outside didn’t seem to have woken the children. But then a sleeping draught was common in schools, where a single unruly child could otherwise disturb the sleep of a whole dormitory. Perhaps the Imperial family didn’t operate entirely differently to normal life.
Eleanor stood guard by the door as Lauren went through to finish the job. Watching out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lauren hesitate before sliding her poisoned blade against the throat of the youngest. She frowned in sympathy. Killing children had never formed part of her life’s ambition, either, but she was fast learning to put her sentimentality aside.
A few heartbeats later, and Lauren was back by her side.
“Done?” she asked.
“All three.”
They walked home in silence, keeping to the shadows, weapons concealed but no less ready for that. Allie. Eleanor couldn’t get over the idea that the girl had betrayed them. She just wouldn’t, not unless... but that was even worse. If her rebel sympathies had been discovered, and the information forced from her, then that left an even worse taste in Eleanor’s mouth.
The next morning, the Old Barrel Yard was full of uncertain whispers. There was a rumour of deaths at the palace, and someone had pinned up notices announcing a display of public executions at noon. Eleanor and Lauren ate their breakfast in silence, volunteering nothing, and no-one dared approach them to ask if it was coincidence that they’d been in town when it happened.
“I’m going to go to the hangings,” Eleanor said. “I need to see who they decide to blame for this.”
Lauren looked horrified. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? They might see you.”
“I’ll be one face in a crowd, it’ll be fine. But you don’t have to come.”
“No, I’ll come with you.”
After a quiet morning, they left the rebel district and joined the flow of people moving towards the Grand Square for the hangings. Public executions were a rarity, usually reserved for serious and high-profile crimes, so anyone without urgent duties would make their way to see what the fuss was about. Eleanor overheard snippets of conversation as they walked: talk of spies and traitors, rebels and assassins.
“They got her, you know,” one woman was telling her friends. “The killer. She worked at the palace.”
Eleanor’s chest tightened a little at that, but she pushed all her guesses from her mind. They’d see soon enough.
The crowds were thick in the Marble Quarter, and merchants had set up little stalls selling food and nicknacks just as they would for a carnival.
“We won’t see much,” Lauren said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“We’d make ourselves far too conspicuous if we turned back,” Eleanor said. Everyone in this part of the city, today, was here to show their Imperial pride by watching the Empress dispose of those who’d attacked her. Besides, Eleanor needed to know if they’d managed to pin something on Allie.
They heard a gong, and then a cheer went up from the crowds in the Grand Square. Eleanor started to elbow her way forwards but by the time they managed to push their way into the square the charges had been read, the scapegoats condemned, and the nooses tightened. Nine bodies hung limply from the scaffold, feet dangling in the air. Eleanor had to scramble up onto a nearby wall to see, but there was no mistaking Allie’s slender form. As Lauren had predicted, the others looked to be palace guards, presumably those unlucky enough to have worked in the north wing.
It was all she could do to force herself to wait in the square until the crowd dispersed, and she didn’t say a word to Lauren as they walked back to the Old Barrel Yard. Allie had been a sweet girl, and a good source; the loss hurt in more ways than one.
Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2) Page 71