by Sam Hawke
“But, my people!” His voice abruptly took on a softer, gentler tone. A smooth knife through the ribs, a kiss of sweet poison on the lips. “My people. I am your Prince, and I am benevolent. I do not hold you all accountable for the crimes of your ancestors. God’s vengeance is great, but I do not need or wish to destroy you all. I do not even wish to destroy your city. It is a beautiful feat of design, were it turned to the glory of God, and the pious lives of His subjects. You will be permitted to live as subjects of our great Empire. Observe my mercy! Tremble under my compassion!”
He did something with an arm and the women moved in response. The ground below his feet began to rumble, a deep and foul unnatural grumbling that sent vibrations up through the heavy stone of our walls and into our very bones. “I. Am. Benevolence. But I am also Justice, and my revenge, God’s revenge, bears three names.
“Leka. Iliri. Oromani.”
Beside me, Tain flinched. I found his hand with mine and we hung on to each other.
“Three names for three traitors. Betrayers.” It seemed to me then that he looked directly at me and Tain, that I could feel the cold grip of his gaze hooking into me. “Poison names.”
Tain’s hand in mine faltered; I squeezed harder.
“We know these names, in Crede. We remember them. We have whispered our revenge for generations while you have grown fat and stupid and forgetful. The Empire does not forget. We always remember. And we are here for you at last, those who carry that blood. In your arrogance, in your foolishness, you did not hide yourselves away. You flaunted those names, you gave them to your children, those names of the wicked. Murderers, traitors, bearing those names started a war, a long and silent and deadly war, a war their children must pay for.” A hiss now, slicing through the air, a blade of a voice. “Such is justice. Such is right.”
The rumbling grew greater, louder, more insistent. The very air around the women seemed to thin and glint and tremble, vibrating in my chest and rattling my teeth.
Then, abruptly, it stopped. It was like being released from a too-tight grip, blood seeming to race around my skin, tingling and urgent, burning in my extremities. I sagged against the stone, and I wasn’t the only one. All around me people staggered, slumped, let out soft cries. The Prince smiled, raised his arms. The sun glinted on his luxurious clothes and his beautiful skin and his golden crown. “My children. I give you this chance. One evening, one night, to consider all you have seen, and to come humbly to your rightful place as citizens of the great Empire. It is almost complete. I have taken back what they stole. All you need do to show me your true hearts and begin your penitence is one small thing. You must bring me every person who bears those traitors’ names. Bring them to me, every man, woman, and child who has freely worn the name of those most treacherous creatures. They will be your offering to God to begin your path to righteousness.
“You will keep your city! You will keep your lives! You will be given the chance to live a pious and obedient life, and if you obey God’s word, perhaps one day you too will ascend with the righteous. Men of Silasta, you have much to gain. And if you choose not to obey? You have much more to lose.”
He flicked his hand, and the women raised theirs one final time. A massive ball of flame erupted, swallowing the entire greatbow in blue-and-orange fire. The soldiers operating it were caught in the fireball and their terrible screams pierced the air even as the heat of it blasted us backward, roasting and merciless. Tain sheltered me with his body and I cowered, certain we were about to die, but then abruptly the heat and the flames died into nothing. The remains of the greatbow, smoking and disintegrating, collapsed in a heap between the charred and melted corpses of its operators.
“I will wait for you at dawn,” the Prince called. “You will bring me the traitors, or I will bring your doom.”
* * *
One day and one night. An arbitrary amount of time to plan an impossible defense, and a choice that was no choice at all.
“Will the walls hold?” someone asked Eliska, for perhaps the fifteenth time. She apparently had a wellspring of patience far beyond mine because she answered again with unflappable calm.
“Against ordinary forces? Against catapults and rams and people? Yes.” She retied her hair in its customary tail. “Against the very ground falling away beneath them? No, we saw that two years ago. The walls are strong and thick but they are, ultimately, built on the earth.” She pressed her palms against her eyes. “Against someone who can command wind and fire and earth at his will? I don’t know what could stand against that.”
Moest’s lieutenants were organizing ordinary folk into makeshift troops, ostensibly to fight the Prince in the event that he broke into the city, but mostly to keep them occupied. Children, the elderly, anyone unwilling or unable to fight, if it came to it, would shelter in the tunnels under the city.
“We need to get the Leka, Oromani, and Iliri households somewhere safe, somewhere hidden,” Moest told the Council. “I don’t want some scared citizen thinking they’ll save us all if they just hand over a few kids.”
It was a measly number: my small household and the few remaining of Karista’s; Tain had no immediate family here. To some, their lives might seem an acceptable trade to avoid facing the Prince and his terrible magics.
“It only takes one idiot to start a whole collapse. Probably best if none of you are visible today,” Moest said, but Tain shook his head.
“People are scared, but I don’t think any Silastian fancies the lifestyle the Prince is proposing,” Tain said, and one or two people managed a chuckle.
“I do not like living under the effective rule of tyrants, even well-meaning ones,” Il-Yoro said. “And I take issue with how the current Council hears certain voices louder than others. If I had my way, every one of you rich bastards would be out of this room and onto the street, and see how you enjoy life at the other end of the town. But I will ride a graspad straight into hell before I live as a slave under that man.” He slapped the shoulders of the men and women on either side of him. “We stand together.”
“I mean to say…” Lazar’s chin quivered. “Of course! Never any doubt.”
“This is not a perfect country,” Salvea agreed in her soft, firm voice. “But it is ours, for all our flaws. It is not part of an empire under a cruel and illogical god.”
Javesto thumped his fists on the table. “This is our haven of sin and debauchery, and may it prosper!”
A tired, ragged laugh sprang up around the table.
“Then we’re in agreement?” Tain said. “We figure out some way to fight this bastard?”
And every voice chimed in, resolute. The load on my chest lightened.
“An-Ostada,” Tain continued. “We need you. If we can’t shoot him down with arrows and he can set us on fire or blow us off the wall at will, we need some way of protecting ourselves from his magic or distracting him long enough to get our army close. Was he using fresken himself, or is it only the women?”
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “From what I have seen, it is only the women, though under his command or control. But they are too strong. I suspect they are using unnatural means to amplify their power.”
“The woman at the arena,” I said, remembering, and An-Ostada met my eyes and nodded. “She had that urn. When it smashed, it interfered with what she was doing.”
“So if we can get close enough, we might be able to do the same,” Moest said. “What would we be looking for?”
An-Ostada frowned. “Be alert for something the women are holding, or wearing, with which they are taking particular care.”
“And your Speakers? Can they protect us the way his are protecting him?”
An-Ostada raised her chin. “I will gather every person with talent in the city. And you must…” She paused, lips tightening as if in anticipation of particularly foul medicine, then continued. “You must announce that citizens who have used the drug known as Void gather at the lake when I am ready. Their weakness
was used against us before. We must turn it against our enemies now. We must wake the great Os-Woorin, and we will need their help to do it.”
“If we wait until morning and meet him face-to-face, he’ll control the conflict,” Chen said. “We need to change the narrative. Do something he won’t expect.”
There was a noise from the corner. Erel, notebook in hand as always, cleared his throat.
“If I’m not speaking out of turn, Honored Chancellor,” the boy said, “I think I have an idea.”
* * *
Dusk fell swiftly, as if the very day was hurrying us to our uncertain future. I handed Tain a second dagger. Around him, a small band of soldiers and blackstripes tightened boots and adjusted weapons, shifting nervously as we lurked in the shadows. On the walls, Moest noisily directed troops, creating the illusion that we were preparing for a battle in the morning. Hopefully, things would never get that far.
“Wait for the signal,” I reminded Tain for the tenth time. “We don’t know how fast they’ll respond. You’ve got to make sure they’re distracted before you go in.”
“I know, Lini.” He caught my hand. “We’ll be all right.”
“Don’t rush. He knows he’s potentially vulnerable in the open so you can’t count on him letting his guard down. We’ll keep him as busy as we can here, but—”
“Lini.” He put his other hand on top of the ones we had clasped together until I stopped babbling. “We know the plan. We’ll be careful.”
This sewer line drained under the north wall and came out upriver in the marshes; Erel had remembered we’d used it during the siege to set a trap. The Prince and his Speakers were camped out in the abandoned village, arrogantly waiting for tomorrow morning’s decision, and there was no significant cover there. Our attack would be two-pronged; part of the army would march on the camp from the west gate road as Moest attacked with barrages from the walls. While the Prince was distracted, Tain and his team would sneak in and target the women.
It was a fine plan, but for Tain’s role in it. He was decent in a fight, but he wasn’t a soldier. “If something goes wrong, we’re handing the Prince what he wants,” I said. “He wants a symbolic sacrifice to his god, and you’re walking right up to him.”
“Yes,” he said, a strange twist on his lips, a sadness and a certainty in his eyes that brooked no argument and broke my heart. “But I’d be the first head on a pike if he takes the city anyway. At least if it ends tonight, more people might live.” He let go of my hands. “There’s no tomorrow that has me in it. Maybe I can do some good before.”
Desperation filled me. “Jov and Hadrea are still out there,” I said urgently. “They could make it back in time. Hadrea can take fifty princes and anything those damned women can throw at her.”
“Well, let’s hope for that,” he said. “Honor-down, we can all hope for that. But if you see Jov again and I don’t, just tell him…” He paused, swallowed, faltering. Then he gave me his best grin, his warmest grin, the one that saw straight through me, and kissed my cheek. “Tell him I died doing what I’ve always done best. Being an absolute bloody idiot.”
“Honored Chancellor?” Erel tapped Tain’s shoulder. He had been handing around a flask to the team, but Tain refused it with a shake of his head. “It’s almost dark. Time to move.”
I couldn’t bring myself to stay and watch them descend to the sewers. I had the feeling, hurrying back to our apartments, that it was the last time I would see my friend.
“I’m sorry I was away so long,” I told Sjease as I stepped inside. “But you all need to pack up and be ready to move soon. Dee, Ana, the boys, they need to be out of sight. If things … if things go bad, they’re likely to be targets.”
Sjease looked unsettled. “Where have you been? We’ve been sending messages but not even Etrika would tell us anything. Dee’s been frantic.”
“The Council’s working on a plan. You stay with Dee, all right? No matter what happens, you stay with her.” They might not be a trained fighter but I trusted them to put Dee’s welfare first.
Dija came flying out of her room, followed by her brothers and Ana, and I enveloped her in a hug.
“They wouldn’t let me leave the apartments,” she said, scowling at our housekeeper, who only shrugged unapologetically.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, looking around at my family. “Things are going to get a bit scary, but we’re doing our best to end this before any more people get hurt, all right?”
“Why do they hate our family so much?” Dee asked quietly. “What did our ancestors do?”
I could only shake my head. A cold, unpleasant prickle ran over my skin.
Reading my face, Dee pressed, “He said they were murderers. He called our names poison names. What did that mean? Did our ancestors poison someone?”
“I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter,” I lied. “We’re not our ancestors.” We had no way of knowing the context or the justification. But Etan had trained me too well and I couldn’t help seeds of speculation germinating in my head. Thieves, he had called us. And then, chillingly: I have taken back what they stole. I’d thought it so only a few hours ago: Oromanis were bred for intrigue and secrets and mysteries. He had taken back our land’s magic, so I could guess what they had stolen, and who they had poisoned.
But most of all, Oromanis were bred for loyalty. “We’ve got a plan, all right? We’re going to stop him. But for now, I need you all to get food, water flasks, and blankets. We’re going to hide you in the jail until this is over. Wear scarves and keep your head down. The fewer people who recognize you, the better. There are still Hands out there and we don’t know who we can trust.” I thought briefly of Abae, under guard on my order, but pushed down the guilt.
“That’s why I needed to talk to you,” Dee said urgently. “And to the Chancellor. You were gone all afternoon and I need to show you something.”
“You’ll have to show me later,” I said. If we get a “later.” “We have to move. The plan’s already in action and you can’t be caught out in the open.”
“What’s the plan?” she asked promptly. “Where’s the Chancellor?”
I glanced uneasily at Ana and the boys, but Sjease had bustled them into action. “We’re not able to hurt the Prince from a distance, and in daylight there’s no chance of surprising him.” I grabbed a satchel and began loading it up with dried fruit and meat, the day’s leftover bread, a jar of vegetable paste, greens hanging from the hook above the bench. Anything they could eat in hiding. “They’re going to flank him in the dark. Tain’s gone with them.”
“Auntie, wait, please. I think I found something out. I don’t want it to be true, but I’m afraid it is. Auntie, where’s the Chancellor?”
She sounded so urgent, and so like Jov, that I stopped packing. “They’re in the sewers.”
“They?”
If I closed my eyes, I could still feel the pressure of his lips on my cheek. “Tain and a group of soldiers and blackstripes.”
“Just soldiers and blackstripes? No one else?” She wore the strangest expression.
“Dee, what is it?”
“Who thought of the plan?”
I blinked. “Erel di—” I began, but I hadn’t even gotten the words out before she slapped her hands over her mouth. “Dee!”
“We have to go after them, right now,” she said in a rush. “Auntie, Erel’s the spy.”
The bag fell out of my hands, scattering food and cracking one of the jars. Oil seeped over my feet. “What?” Already, I was picturing the boy, always there in the background, watching, listening, taking careful notes. “How do you know?”
She shoved a pair of boots on and dropped her spectacles as she bent over. Her hands shook as she pushed them back on her face. “When Uncle Jov and Hadrea went to the estates I had the idea that if there was someone out there, then someone had to be communicating with them from the city. So I used my savings to bribe every messenger in the Guild to tell me who from the Manor
sends messages to our estates or the Chancellor’s. And I found someone. A messenger who sends letters from Erel to his ‘Tashi’ in a place called Imudush North.”
I frowned. “So … Erel writes to his Tashi. Why wouldn’t he? I’m sure he told me his Tashi retired back home up there somewhere.” My head felt thick and slow.
“He told me that, too. But his Tashi wasn’t from the estates. Erel was an orphan, he was found abandoned up there, but the Guild scribe who found and adopted him was Silastian. He had no connection to Imudush North. That story didn’t make sense, don’t you see?”
I shook my head. “Dee, he’s just a kid, and he’s been with the Guild and with the Chancellor since he was a boy. How could he be a spy? And what could he have to do with Crede?”
“I’m a kid, too,” she said grimly. “And I knew how to spy on him. But Auntie … I don’t think Erel’s who he says he is. I think … I think he might be the Prince’s son.”
INCIDENT: Poisoning of Credo Tamago Leka
POISON: Eel brain
INCIDENT NOTES: C. Tamago died after a feast celebrating opening night of noted playwright Jos Banjrot’s Ascent of the Sun, but reclusive habits meant servants did not find his body until the following day. Appears to have choked on vomit. Examination of the menu and remnants in the Leka kitchen suggest an insufficiently baked eel; C. Tamago appears to have chosen his own portion and I am satisfied his death was accidental.
(from proofing notes of Credo Etan Oromani)
25
Jovan
We were racing on borrowed graspads along the road by the river when the explosion sounded, sending a tremor through the ground and causing our mounts to shudder and stumble. I nearly fell, but Hadrea, true to her usual impressive but infuriating competence, caught me by the back of my shirt and steadied me.
We pulled up and stared at the rising cloud of ominous black on the horizon. “Whatever they were preparing for, it is happening now,” Hadrea said grimly. “Do we go look, or keep on to the capital?”