Chewing my lip, I marched to the fountain, in shock as well. As we’d descended on the barracks strip, I’d imagined we’d stood a chance. No matter the odds, I’d imagined our determination would win out. The mercenaries would have no reason to fight an organized force. Not when the rest of the city lay ripe for pillaging. But they’d come, and my wardens had died.
By unspoken agreement, the area immediately surrounding the fountain had been left empty. I stood in the cleared area, waiting. As if pushed through a sieve, the leaders of my resistance entered the deserted circle, one by one. Jet’s face was a mask of sorrow and regret.
“Can we go inland?” I asked.
Jet sighed, a heavy exhalation that expressed defeat as surely as anything could. “I don’t know, Lilik. I don’t know where we’ll be safe now.”
“Oh, rot and reap. Are you really so easy to beat? It’s no wonder we’ve kept you down so long.”
Moanet’s imperious tone was unmistakable. I couldn’t control my emotions any longer. I whirled on her, hand dropping to my dagger.
“Now wait,” she said, refusing to back away. “You’re smarter than this, Lilik. Setbacks happen. Does that mean you just give up? Or do you try something else?”
“You call lost lives a setback? What is wrong with you?” I snapped.
She stared me down. “You might not like it, Lilik, but war means death. Either you can let their sacrifice be for nothing, or you can make a hard decision.”
“Oh?” I snarled.
“Wouldn’t it be better to ally with the Council than run and hide inland until the Ulstats hunt you down?”
She might be right, but I wouldn’t admit it. Not now when people lay dead on the street because of a trader war.
“Lilik,” Mother said. I hadn’t seen her approach, but I stiffened when she laid a hand on my shoulder. “This is not the time to be stubborn. Listen to her.”
With a violent shrug, I threw her hand off me. “And what, go back to the defense tax?”
Moanet’s eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t have to go like that. Let me negotiate for you—if my life as a Yiltak taught me anything, it’s how to bargain. Look, you don’t have many options. Are you going to let your pride matter more than the lives of people who trusted you?”
As if in response to her words, silence filled the square. I didn’t think anyone but our small group had heard the exchange, but my followers sensed it all the same.
“Set up the meeting,” I said at last. “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Thirty
WHITE SHOWED AROUND the edges of the traders’ eyes. Facing them over the speaker’s podium in their precious Council Hall, I felt a wave of disgust. For fifteen decades, the prime traders and the heirs of the Houses had met here, deliberating over the future of all Kiriilti. They’d built fortunes while the gutterborn struggled to pay taxes to support the trader armies. And after all of that, we were no safer than the day the defense bargain was struck.
Less safe, in fact. Because for all the trader effort to guard our shores and straits from Waikert attacks, they’d utterly failed to protect us from their own ranks. After the reign of the monster-heir, House Ulstat ought to have been cast out from the Council. Returned to commoner status with their assets seized or better, exiled from the Kiriilt Islands entirely. These people had let this threat come to us, and now I was forced to ask for compromise with them.
The shame of joining forces with them burned in my chest. But I stared them down for the gutterborn who depended on me. For Raav and Da and Jaret.
“You’ll free Raav Ovintak,” I said, gaze locked on Trader Yiltak. “Trader Ovintak is dead, Frask a traitor. Raav is the rightful heir to his House. And you’ll hand the Ulstat boy over to me.”
In response to my final statement, half the traders stood, shouting in protest.
Moanet’s mother’s lips thinned. She pinned me with her glare. After Moanet had returned from Trader Council Hall with news that my presence was immediately requested, I hadn’t had a chance to ask what had passed between mother and daughter. It shouldn’t have been my concern, but by joining my resistance, Moanet had risked both her new identity with her common husband and any chance she’d had to reconcile with her mother. For Moanet’s sake, I hoped she’d negotiated well.
“Raav Ovintak is the only leverage we have against his brother,” Trader Yiltak said.
“Even if you managed to turn Frask aside with this . . . threat,” I said, working to put a sneer into my voice, “it would do no good. Frask has no power with the Ulstats. Olev Ulstat told me himself.”
A wave of astonished gasps traveled the seats. Good. I’d purposefully told Moanet to say nothing of my meeting with the Ulstats, as I planned to use the story to knock the traders off balance.
While her peers whispered and stared, Trader Yiltak simply stared at me. “A well-placed disclosure, Lilik.”
“It’s Councilor Boket, first representative of the city commoners,” I returned.
“As you wish, Councilor. Now, what else do you care to announce? Where is Trader Ulstat?”
“On his flagship, I assume. We spoke before sunset.”
“And he claimed that Frask had no sway with him?”
“I believe he plans to cast him loose immediately following his taking of Istanik. Probably via execution.”
“By your statement, am I to believe you think the Ulstats will succeed despite our defenses?”
I laid my hands on the speaker’s podium and leaned forward. “Without me, you have no chance.”
In the back row of seats, a large man stood. “I refuse to listen to this from a gutterborn. It’s insulting.”
Trader Yiltak whirled on him. “Trader Vaskilt. I assume you have a counter-proposal? The mercenaries have turned, half our ships in port have sunk, and it won’t be long before Ulstat sends in his elite guard. So what would you suggest?”
Bristling, the man pounded his fist on the arm of his chair. “Our guardsmen are more than capable of throwing a few mercenaries back into the ocean we pulled them out of.”
Shaking her head as if saddened, Trader Yiltak allowed her gaze to travel the rest of the Council. “Anyone else have something to add?”
A few traders shook their heads, but most remained silent.
“The truth is neither the Council nor the gutterborn can defeat the Ulstats,” I said. “Not with the mercenaries on their side and the cannons battering the city. And especially not when we’re fighting each other. But together, we stand a chance.”
After a long moment, Heiklet’s grandfather, Trader Srukolk, stood. “We failed to predict any of the Ulstat actions. As far as I’m concerned, it’s time we listened to someone else.”
“As it happens, I agree,” Trader Yiltak said. “And so I propose a vote. Free Raav Ovintak and restore his household under his name. In exchange Lilik Boket—excuse me, Councilor Boket—will bring her soldiers to join the House guardsmen.”
I cleared my throat and stepped around the speaking podium. “That’s only half of my first demand. As I’m sure you recall, the Ulstat boy will be released to me. Furthermore—”
Also stepping around the rail in front of her seat, Trader Yiltak faced me across five paces of polished marble tile. “I won’t give you that, Lilik. But it’s not because I doubt your integrity or resolve. Put simply, the traders have better access to secure positions. With you, the boy might die at the hands of an angry mob. In the prison or Council Hall or—frankly—inside any trader home, he’ll be safe.”
“Safe?” I said.
She nodded. “Do you think I’m a monster? Kidnapping him was the worst I could tolerate. The rest is just a bluff. Why do you think we moved the prisoners the moment the cannons fired? Ulstat might be willing to sacrifice his ten-year-old son, but I’m not.”
“I need leverage,” I said, knowing I couldn’t win this point, but unwilling to concede so soon.
“But, Councilor, if we’re joining forces in this, why does it matter
who holds the boy?”
If it had been just Moanet’s mother and I in the hall, I might have admitted the truth about my family’s abduction. But I would not allow these men and women to know what was at stake for me, personally. The knowledge would only give them power over me. Recognizing my lack of solid ground, I shook my head in dismissal.
“All right, point conceded. Free Raav now, and I agree to continue negotiating.”
With half her mouth drawn up in an expression of amused respect, Trader Yiltak nodded at a pair of her guardsmen. “See to it that Raav—I mean Trader Ovintak is fetched to the Council Hall without delay.”
As the air left my lungs, a coolness filled my chest. Relief. If I managed nothing else today, I’d saved Raav. As for Da and Jaret, that would come. I had to think of something. Had to.
“Would you care for refreshment while we wait?” Trader Yiltak asked in a voice just short of mocking.
“I don’t feel it’s appropriate to enjoy tea while people are dying in the streets,” I said. Instead, I stalked to the wall and leaned against it.
Likely, no more than five minutes passed, but the wait felt like an hour. In their rows of chairs, traders leaned heads together, whispering. As much as I wanted to continue discussions—outside, commoner families were fleeing the mercenaries while the slums burned—I knew that patience would win me ground. Since the second barrage of cannon fire, no major attack had come from the sea. Maybe the ships were out of black powder, but I suspected Olev Ulstat was waiting for dawn to survey the damage. Perhaps he even hoped for a surrender.
In either case, I was heartened by the lack of booms and crashes. Before leaving fountain square, I’d instructed the commoners to flee for the trader district. The mercenaries would think twice about plunging into the stronghold of the House guards. Or so I hoped.
When the front doors to the trader hall burst open, slamming against the heavy stone of the walls, my breath caught. Despite myself, I stood on tiptoes for a better look. Expecting the guardsmen to proceed him, I had to swallow my heart when I spied Raav marching down the hall like a wind-lashed storm. Eyes flashing, face dark, there was none of the gentleness that I knew from him. His eyes traveled the hall, passing over me without stopping.
Even though I knew this was on purpose—he wouldn’t forget me so easily—my chest ached at his complete disregard. I wanted to dash forward, run my hands over him to make sure he was really, truly, whole. But I stayed where I was, allowing the wall to prop up my sagging confidence.
Raav marched straight for the speaker’s podium. Stepping up to it, filthy from his time in the cell, eyes hollow from hunger and the loss of his mother, he still managed to present an image more striking than any trader in the hall. I could scarcely breathe.
At my side, I felt Tyrak as a slow pulse of melancholy. As I laid my hand upon the hilt, a habit formed over the past few days, my mind reeled back to Ioene during Zyri’s time. Tyrak and Raav had similar features, the dark eyes, strong cheekbones. I remembered the feel of Tyrak under my hands, each muscle tensing as my finger passed over it. And Raav, the few kisses we’d shared. His full lips on mine, the warm taste of him.
I’m sorry, Lilik, Tyrak said. None of this is fair to you.
Biting the inside of my cheek to clear my head—was I really this stupid, to be thinking of these young men while the city burned and my family awaited death, or was it just the lack of sleep creeping over me—I pulled a deep breath into my lungs.
We have to decide how to go forward, Tyrak. But not tonight. Tonight, just be with me.
I’ll be with you as long as you want me, he countered.
“We will deal with my recompense later,” Raav said, his beautiful voice reduced to a growl from the smoke outside Council Hall. “For now, I wish to hear how you plan to correct this mess you’ve made.”
Trader Yiltak stood from her chair. “Thank you for joining us, Trader Ovintak. We were about to begin discussions with Councilor Boket regarding our shared defense of the city.”
As if noticing me for the first time, Raav turned. “A commoner. Interesting.”
“You can forget the charade, Trader Ovintak. Your relationship with her is no secret. If not for Lilik, you’d still be up on the gallows.”
Raav rolled his shoulders and unconsciously brought a hand to the side of his neck. Remembering the feel of the rope? Had they gone so far as to put the noose around his neck?
“Whatever may have passed between us is not relevant at this time,” Raav said smoothly. “But if you say this young woman is critical to our defense, I agree to cede the floor.”
It was all I could do to keep the confusion from my face. Raav’s delivery was so convincing, I couldn’t help but believe his minimizing of our relationship. What did it mean? Given the recent events, was he genuinely concerned about what the Council thought? Or maybe his time locked up had given him space to reflect. I never claimed to be a good match for him. Had he finally realized it? Or had the realization come when they named him prime trader? A younger son might be forgiven for having a fling with a gutterborn, but not the heir, and certainly not the prime.
Trader Yiltak rolled her eyes and gestured to a seat in the second row. Raav’s mother’s former chair, if I recalled correctly.
Moving like a prowling cat, Raav stalked to his seat and sat with an ease that I was sure belied the stiffness he must feel after being caged for multiple days. When I stepped to the podium, he regarded me with the same, imperious interest that the other traders gave me.
I felt shredded inside.
“Trader Ovintak,” I said with a nod of greeting. If this was how he wanted it, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting my hurt show. “Pleased to see you with your heart still beating. Now—” My eyes scanned the seats. “—for the remaining conditions we’ll need met before joining our strength to yours. Foremost, we demand the defense bargain be rescinded.”
Once again, the traders leaped from their seats, voices and fists raised. Both Raav and Trader Yiltak remained sitting. I felt Raav’s gaze on me like the sun focused through a lens. Hot and uncomfortable, yet indifferent to the pain it caused. Would it be so hard to just thank me for having him freed?
I yelled to be heard over the din. “Once again, commoners will own their homes. No trader shall take coin from us again. Unless it’s a business arrangement, of course.”
“But how will we afford our army? Our navies?” someone yelled.
“And why should we believe the gutterborn army will add anything to our defense?” another trader called.
Cocking my head in a gesture I hoped was both arrogant and impatient, I waited for the voices to settle.
“First of all, we can discuss future arrangements for the defense of the Islands when we’re not under attack, don’t you think? Second, I am certain you’ll find our assistance valuable. Tell me, did you have a plan to contend with the mercenaries and the Ulstat warships both? Other than hanging Trader Ovintak, I mean.”
No one had an answer for that, so I quickly continued: “Once I have a commitment from you regarding the defense tax, I’ll go ahead and outline my plan to save Istanik.”
As if I were in no particular hurry to receive an answer, I yawned and stared at the Trader Council. When no one responded, choosing instead to sit in shocked silence, I raised a single finger.
“Also, as first Councilor to the gutter hordes, I should convey our last demand. No more Trader Council. Rather, Stanik Island shall be run by representatives chosen from among the entire population. And not only the citizens of Istanik, but the inland settlements as well.”
Finally finished, I stepped away from the podium and returned to my spot on the wall. The traders would argue. I expected this. But they’d give in, sooner or later. Sooner, if the Ulstats started throwing iron balls into the city again. Leaning back against one of the velvet wall hangings, I settled in to wait.
Chapter Thirty-One
DAWN CAME AS a graying of the smoke an
d ash that blanketed the city. As the rising sun lifted breezes from the sea, sparks swirled in the air over smoldering husks of buildings. From the makeshift hospital erected in the halls and offices of the courthouse, spilling out onto the front steps and, for those least critically injured, into courthouse square, came the moans of the wounded and burned, the occasional sob of grief when a loved one couldn’t be saved.
It was a grim-faced gathering that stood before me, clustered in the center of the square. At my side stood Jet and the leader of the Council’s guardsmen. Individual House guard leaders hung a pace back, lending support without stealing from my authority.
“Does anyone not understand their responsibility?” I called, and when no one raised a hand, continued. “Good. We can expect Zyri’s Promise within the hour. Once she begins to harry the Ulstat fleet, the skiffs will launch. I’ll be near the quay to observe.”
And maybe, to pay tribute to my family, sacrificed so that the rest of us might remain free. At the thought, I nearly broke down. Nodding a dismissal, I ducked my head before anyone could spot my welling tears.
“We’ll get them,” Jet said to me as we marched away together.
I shrugged. “I wish I could be as hopeful as you are.”
“Your mother’s friends are wilier than they let on. Who knows how many Waikert attacks they’ve repelled with no help from any of us. They’ll find your da.”
“I still don’t feel right about the risk.”
“Moanet had it right. War means death. The raiders want to do this. Your family is innocent. It’s a fair arrangement.”
Though most of the skiffs intended to dart between the ships, attacking with flasks of oil and blazing arrows, two of the small boats held bands of Outer Isle raiders. Beginning with the flagship, the plan was to board while the Ulstat deckhands and fighters were distracted by Zyri’s Promise and the smaller vessels. Killing only when necessary, they were to move through the holds in search of my family. And if they happened to encounter Olev Ulstat or Frask Ovintak, they’d consider it a bonus. As for the other skiffs, those aboard had instructions to only cause enough fire to damage the sails and keep the deckhands busy. Until the runners brought a message to the flame-keepers at the harbor guardstones, that is. Once my family was safe, the guardstones would burn a brilliant blue, triggering a rain of fiery arrows that would put the Ulstat fleet on the bottom of the ocean.
Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 47