Heroes' Reward

by Moira J. Moore

  Two Imperial Guards stood immediately behind us.

  When the park had been packed with as many people as possible, crushed so closely together that if a panic were sparked they’d all die, trumpets blared and the Emperor and Green appeared, climbing the stairs of the platform. Green sat in her duller throne.

  Green appeared unhappy about something. Her expression was blank, but there was something odd about her. As though she were vibrating with irritation, under her skin.

  Gifford remained standing. He looked pale. He seemed to have aged since I’d seen him last. He appeared ill, but Taro had learned it was an illness for which healers could find no treatment. The conversation Taro and I had overheard between Green and Gifford was leading me to think she was actually doing something to him. Perhaps to poison him, perhaps only to control him, expecting everyone else to believe it was just the family weakness attacking Gifford.

  Gifford stood near the front edge of the platform. He was clearly going to be giving a speech.

  Those closest to the platform were titleholders and their families, Council members, and merchants. Behind them, casters and Pairs. And then, behind them, what looked like leagues of Imperial Guards. Everyone else was crammed into the sides of the crowd.

  I thought it likely that most of the crowd wouldn’t even be able to hear the Emperor.

  The herald pounded his mace three times, and again, it was unnecessary. Everyone’s eyes were already on Gifford.

  “My good people,” the Emperor said, “it is pleasant to see you all on this fine day.”

  Despite looking unwell, his voice had a bit more resonance than usual. I wondered if he’d been practising.

  “You have all given your best to make Erstwhile a strong, wealthy city, a city more powerful than has ever been under any other monarch.”

  At this point, he paused. There was applause, starting at the front and flowing back in a wave to the people who probably couldn’t hear anything but knew it was in their best interests to follow the rest of the crowd. Some of them appeared almost ridiculously enthusiastic over the blandest string of words I’d ever heard. Others were clearly slapping their hands together for the sake of self-preservation.

  I didn’t start clapping until Taro did, because I didn’t think of it. That wasn’t good. The Emperor or Green couldn’t see it, but a whole lot of other people could. It probably wasn’t in my best interests to give the impression I wasn’t in complete awe of the Emperor.

  “We have devoted considerable resources to promote prosperity and provide safety for all loyal citizens.”

  Safety. Sure.

  “We have extended these benefits to those beyond our walls. We have created a new order, casting out the turmoil of earlier times, and this is merely the beginning of a glorious new future.”

  I wondered how many people actually believed, or agreed with, what the Emperor was saying.

  “But there are grim forces threatening our peace. The threat is posed by those we once trusted as friends. These traitors have no regard for the rule of law. We were led to believe they were devoted to serving Our best interests, and the best interests of Our people. We have since learned that all they want is the freedom to do as they please, and have been false to us all for decades.”

  After a long, dramatic pause, Gifford announced, “These friends are the Triple S.”

  No one in the audience appeared surprised. Gifford’s dislike of the Triple S hadn’t been a secret. This absence of shock drained a little power from Gifford’s attempt to appall them. He raised his voice to a shriller pitch.

  “They have been negligent in fulfilling their duties. They have been removing Pairs from sites that needed their protection, refusing to return them until the residents of those sites – farmers, merchants, crafters – passed over all they owned to the Triple S. For years, they have been siphoning from the Crown’s coffers funds collected from all of you, for their own dark purposes.”

  Someone started booing. I suspected he’d been ordered to do so at the right time. Influenced by this behaviour, others started booing, too.

  After a few moments, the Emperor held up his hand to shut everyone up. He had more to say.

  “This may be difficult to believe. Perhaps you have met Sources and Shields who have been friendly and modest. We have no doubt there are many good and honourable Pairs who are fully aware of their responsibilities and perform them faithfully. We have such a Pair here.”

  Thousands of eyes settled on us. Lovely.

  “But these Pairs, good and honest as they are, don’t control the Triple S. The Triple S is ruled by a council, an arrogant reflection of Our own. Their goal is to protect the interests of themselves, not the people as a whole.”

  Maybe all those times I’d claimed I had to leave all of a sudden because of secret Triple S business, without explaining myself, hadn’t been the best habit to cultivate.

  “Such a betrayal can be a devastating blow. A crippling blow. It can make us doubt what we thought we knew. But we have to trust Ourselves and we have to protect Ourselves. To do this, we all must make sacrifices.”

  Here it came.

  “To serve you, We have chosen the most talented, the most honourable, the wisest for all positions in Our city.”

  Did anyone actually believe that?

  “They have given much already. We rely on your willingness to give as well.”

  Of course.

  “Because we have a dire but essential task before us.”

  The speech was so bombastic, I was getting bored. And there was more to come.

  “Many years ago, an agreement was made between Empress Egana and the Triple S.”

  He didn’t mention Holder Sylva Westphal. She’d been the first one to realise Sources and Shields were being born, were able to channel events, but no one ever remembered the merchants.

  “The agreement stipulated that the Triple S would serve everyone who needed it, in exchange for the financial support of the Crown and all of you. We have met our obligations. Have they?”

  “No!”

  Hell. He was starting to convince people.

  “We have tried to be reasonable. There have been years of negotiations. We have reminded them of their responsibilities, pleaded with them to meet their obligations, offered them more and more, but nothing would move them. And you know this.”

  I was sure this hadn’t happened. I would have heard of such negotiations, and I didn’t believe the Emperor would engage in any collaborative discussions. Demands, yes. Honest discourse, no.

  “We have come to the disheartening decision that we must – ” the Emperor breathed a huge sigh that could probably be seen for at least the first few rows “ – that we must go to Shidonee’s Gap, all of us, and remind them that we are mightier than they. That they are to serve us. That they have enjoyed our support for generations, and that if they should persist in neglecting their duty, they must be brought under the direct control of the Crown, the Crown representing the interests of us all.”

  People started applauding.

  Gifford acknowledged the tribute with a nod, then resumed. “We have collected brave young people who believe in protecting your homes and families and livelihoods. These young people will travel with us to demonstrate the power of all of us, to remind the Triple S that they are meant to serve us.”

  Actual cheering. It was frightening.

  “This encounter might not proceed as We wish. There may be some danger. But we must take whatever stance necessary, no matter how distasteful, how dangerous, or what sacrifices we must make, to end this treacherous domination that has been forced upon us.”

  This time the applause was thunderous. What was wrong with these people? Didn’t they understand what the Emperor was saying? He was talking about a battle. He was talking about people killing each other.

  “Any apprehension on your part is completely understandable. Don’t feel yourselves cowards for your moment of hesitation.”

  B
ut more than a moment of hesitation meant you were a cowering, disloyal insect.

  “But We assure you, We have spent years preparing for these very events. You can see the masses of personnel who will risk their lives in defence of your freedoms and rights.”

  Yes, masses. It was chilling.

  “We have been forced, unfortunately, to bend Our own laws in order to protect Our people. We have gathered to Us the finest casters in the world.”

  Ah ha! He was admitting casting actually existed. I wondered if the books had been adjusted to reflect the new legal status.

  “This was done solely due to the need to protect us all against the Triple S’s heinous practice of training their own in the same perversion.”

  Did he plan on changing the laws back once this whole thing – whatever it turned out to be – was over? And what would happen to the casters when their abilities were once more illegal?

  “We have with us some brave Pairs who recognize the betrayal perpetrated by their own trainers.”

  Why weren’t those Pairs being put on display on the platform?

  “Given the cache of assets We have at Our disposal, subduing the Triple S will require little effort beyond the march to Shidonee’s Gap. The danger will be minimal. The residents of Shidonee’s Gap will not oppose us, and the cowardly members of the Triple S will likely comply to Our authority once they see Us.”

  I thought that was a possibility. Look at all of those Guards.

  “Our state of readiness and the turning of the seasons make this the perfect time to initiate Our essential plan. This initiative will begin in seven days.”

  The applause became louder again.

  “Between now and then, every family with members between the ages of fifteen and forty will have at least one member report to Captain Linette Presta to join Our fighting forces.”

  The applause died out. No one liked that order.

  “We look forward to witnessing your dedication as We embark on this most noble task. Good day.”

  Good day. What a banal ending to a grandiose spewing of rhetoric. I almost laughed. I suspected I was a little hysterical.

  The Emperor and Green left the platform. Once they were out of sight, the huge crowd began dispersing. This time people were prepared to speak, and the noise created by their words was almost deafening. There was some unease, but there was also some excitement, because people could be stupid.

  This was really happening. Despite all of the idiocy I’d been forced to perform and witness, I hadn’t been able to truly believe this insanity would actually come about.

  This was going to be a nightmare.

  Chapter Twenty

  Taro raised an eyebrow at the Imperial Guard standing before him. “And what,” he asked with his most aristocratic drawl, “do you expect me to do with that?”

  The Guard was holding a sword out to him, hilt first. “What do you think?” he asked scornfully.

  “Stab myself in the stomach.”

  “Everyone wears a blade.”

  “It’s stupid to give someone a weapon they don’t know how to use.”

  “You’ll be learning on the way. It’s not like you’ll be in the first line, but you’ll be grateful for it if things get bad.”

  The two men stared at each other for a while.

  With a grimace, Taro took the weapon in an awkward grip. Probably just to get rid of the prat, with the intention of ditching the sword somewhere.

  The Guard scowled. “You’re left-handed.”

  “All my life.”

  “Give it back.”

  “This is a right-handed sword?”

  “Left handers are the most arrogant cretins on ground.”

  All right. I hadn’t heard that one before.

  “I don’t need to be left-handed to be arrogant,” said Taro.

  “And I don’t need to be trying to train the likes of you. Your sort get everything backwards. I’ve got more important things to do. Hand it over.”

  Taro shrugged and let him have it.

  The Guard eyed me. “You left-handed, too?”

  No. “I’m Bonded to him, aren’t I?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything? We have other Pairs.”

  “The right-handed always bond with the right-handed, and the left-handed always bond with the left-handed.”

  That was probably the weakest argument I’d ever delivered to anyone about anything ever, but the Guard seemed to believe it.

  “Freaks,” he muttered as he stomped away.

  “He’s got no idea,” Taro whispered.

  I rolled my eyes. “We’re not that interesting.”

  “I know. We’re getting old.”

  It was departure day, and we had been gathered with thousands of others outside the wall surrounding Erstwhile. There were hundreds of horses and dozens of wagons. I understood that it was all organized in some way, but it looked like one huge mess to me, people wandering about with no discernable pattern and a lot of orders being shouted that I wasn’t sure anyone was actually following.

  Noise. Painful levels of noise.

  We were heading to Shidonee’s Gap. All of us. To attack people and try to kill them.

  Gifford and Green were going, too. I could see the huge, unwieldy carriages at the far back, where they would be travelling. I wondered who was staying in Erstwhile to make sure Gifford’s ridiculous laws were enforced.

  Taro and I were ordered into a wagon, which we would be sharing with Ogawa and Tenneson and Casters Hallstrom, Rau, Jadah, and Laing. Despite the fact that everyone had been reminded of our position as the Erstwhile Pair, Taro and I were still to be watched by Imperial Guards every moment of every day and every night.

  Maybe we’d have an opportunity to escape once we were on the move, but standing there, surrounded by thousands of people, I couldn’t imagine how that was possible.

  We shouldn’t have stayed in Erstwhile. We shouldn’t have come at all.

  None of the others had escorts. Ogawa found this offensive. “Aren’t you special?” she jeered. “The Emperor has given you your own little army.”

  I was in no mood for Ogawa’s trash. “Seriously, shut up.”

  “You’re in no position to give me any orders.”

  “Fine. Natter on. Drive everyone else to madness with your infantile complaints. Maybe someone will stab you and do us all a favour.”

  Every single one of the others had a sword, either sitting awkwardly with it worn through their belts or holding it with the tip stuck into the floor while they fiddled with the hilt. “Do you know how to use that thing?” I demanded of Ogawa.

  She glared back at me. “We’ll be learning on the way.”

  Which was such an excellent plan.

  “The rest of us haven’t been so fortunate as to have Guards assigned to protect us,” she added in a bitter tone.

  Taro and I often received unique treatment. Lucky us.

  Shrill whistles were blown, and slowly the caravan started moving.

  We rode for hours. Sitting on the hard wooden bench left every part of my body ringing with pain. I supposed that it was better than walking, but I would have liked to have the opportunity to test that, to be able to move around.

  Eventually a stop was called to allow the soldiers some rest. All of the casters and Pairs were gathered together in a tiny patch of brown grass, their swords ineptly clutched in their hands. It appeared they were to have their first lesson, stiff and tired though they were.

  Taro and I lingered to watch the lesson. It was a painful exhibition. They didn’t know how to hold the swords, to stand, to move. The Guard chosen to teach them had no patience, nor any skill as an instructor. Often his orders weren’t clear, and sometimes he contradicted himself.

  Two students ended up getting sliced in the hands because, of course, none of them were wearing gloves.

  After the lesson, we were fed slices of cold meat, a boiled egg each, a piece of fruit, and some water. Then we were ro
unded up and herded back to the wagons.

  We were driven to Patlach. Some of the supply wagons and Guards turned off at the farms leading up to the proper city limits. The wagons carrying the Pairs and the casters were lead to the town square, which had the same tall platforms most town squares seemed to have. There were crowds of people crammed into the streets, watching, talking. Some seemed excited, others apprehensive.

  There were ribbons and flowers draped over everything, as though in preparation for a festival. It was likely they had organized such displays in anticipation of Gifford’s arrival. No doubt someone had been sent ahead to let the residents know he was coming.

  After a short while, trumpets announced Gifford’s approach. He was escorted by Imperial Guards down the small wooden path and then up to the platform. He looked terrible. It seemed to me that the Guards on either side of him were supporting him as he moved.

  Green followed him.

  I knew what was coming. More speeches.

  The crowds grew silent.

  “It’s Our honour,” the Emperor said in a weak voice that I was sure almost no one would be able to hear, “to introduce to you Our future consort, Lady Willa Green.”

  No one reacted because his words didn’t reach them.

  “We present to you,” the nearest Guard shouted, “the future consort to our Emperor, Lady Willa Green.”

  There was a lot of applause, as required.

  Then Green stepped up. “My good people,” she began in a voice much stronger than Gifford’s.

  Her good people? Since when?

  “You know why we are here. It was important to all of us that you, the people of Patlach, our closest and most admired friends, be the first to know of our significant events and pursuits, and be advised of our intentions immediately. We are honoured by your reception.”

  Applause, cheers, yes yes yes.

  “As you are all aware, the Triple S has, for years – ”

  Oh, Zaire, I couldn’t listen to any more. It was in my best interests to hear every word said, in case there were changes, but I couldn’t make myself pay attention to the same old trash.

  Then, all of a sudden, Taro was holding my arm and urging me to stand.