Beggar's Rebellion

by Levi Jacobs

  Odril growled something and paced back to his podium. The mindseye came and lay a hand on her arm. Ella felt the tingle of her resonance, high and faint compared to the physical abilities. “She tells the truth,” the woman declared, releasing the document. “Mr. Alson attacked her on discovery of his crime. Though Ms. Aygla defended herself nicely.” She gave Ella a shy smile.

  Whispers ran through the crowd, and Ella could see Odril begin to sweat across the room.

  “This appears to be proof enough,” Sablo said from his dais. “Ms. Aygla, do you wish to push these charges of assault against Mr. Alson?”

  “No,” Ella said lightly. “I wish to push my original suit.” An assault charge wouldn’t be enough—she needed to ruin him.

  “Very well then. We proceed—“

  “I object!” Odril called. A murmur swept through the crowd.

  Sablo broke off. “On what grounds, Mr. Alson?”

  “I demand replacement arbitration. Arbiter Sablo is biased.”

  Low talk began in the crowd—“Biased?” “Toward who?” “What is this?”

  Sablo spoke over them. “In what way, sir?”

  “You are pursuing an intimate relationship with the defendant!”

  Ella gasped, and the crowd burst into speech.

  He couldn’t. If Sablo stepped down, Odril would likely know the replacement, be paying them from his stolen funds. Sablo had to follow through, regardless of what had happened yesterday.

  Sablo pounded his glass-beaded staff. “Quiet! Quiet in the gallery!”

  The crowd began to quiet. “How do you respond, sir?” Odril asked, face victorious. “Do you deny the charges?”

  Sablo grimaced, jaw working. “Arbitration calls a recess.”

  Ella watched Sablo and the council file out, stomach sick. The crowd burst into noise again, and Odril approached her from the far podium. She struck resonance, world slowing, then let go with an effort. She was here to pursue legal recourse. Other options came later. “What?”

  “Just wanted to make you an offer.” He’d wiped the sweat from his brow, his old look of superiority returned. “You’re not going to like who’s taking Sablo’s place. Things could go badly for you. So I thought I’d offer you a deal.”

  “I want nothing you have to offer.”

  “A return to my service. Same contract, we’ll just write it up fresh. That way you can avoid all the… prison you’ll have to go through.” He reached up for her and she flinched away. “You won’t be nearly this pretty by the time you get out. Think about it.”

  “I have thought about it,” she said, meeting his eyes. “And I already told you my answer. I won’t settle until I’ve seen you destroyed.”

  Odril blanched, then regained his poise. “Too bad. Doesn’t look like today’s your day.”

  Sablo and the others were filing in. She looked to him, but the Arbiter kept his gaze ahead, taking his seat. Odril smirked and returned to his podium, legal advisers filing back into the crowd.

  Ella took a breath. Sablo pounded the beaded staff of state against the floor, and the crowd silenced. “Arbitration will resume,” he intoned.

  The councilors sat. “In response to Mr. Alson’s objection of bias,” Sablo continued, “I hereby recuse myself from the proceedings.”

  A gasp went through the crowd. “What?” Ella heard herself say, eyebrows knitting. He was backing down?

  Of course he is.

  Ella shook her head, not wanting to believe it, feeling at the same time she’d known all along. Of course he is. The irony hit hard—he was stepping down not because they were having relations, but only because it looked like they were. But if she had agreed to relations, he likely would not have stepped down. Councilate meckscatter.

  “In my place,” Sablo was saying, “Lieutenant Arbiter Mentas will serve as arbitration.”

  Odril smiled. More talk burst from the crowd. Sablo met her eyes then, and she saw—what? Apology? Sadness? Betrayal?

  Betrayal. Her own gaze was cold, meeting his. It had all been a ruse—his affection, his support for her scholarship, his promises of support in the arbitration. An attempt to trick a young woman. He was just like the rest.

  Hell with him Ella. We don’t need him. We never have.

  “Exactly,” she breathed, gaze shifting back to Odril. She would still destroy him. Whatever it took.

  “Arbitration will resume tomorrow at this same time.” He pounded the staff twice. “Make room for the next hearing.”

  Ella stood, air in the room suddenly stifling. Some of the audience got up, but many stayed, likely spending a day in the arbitrarium as entertainment. Clarella was one of those leaving, and the woman gave her a wicked smile. Ella clenched her jaw, wanting to fight, wanting to swing at someone like she had Odril.

  Odril. Clarella. Sablo. Her voice began listing targets.

  With an effort Ella controlled her anger, returned to her paced breathing. Here of all places was not the situation to attack someone. She stayed a moment longer, ensuring her emotions were in check, then unclenched.

  The crowd snapped back to motion, and Ella joined their flow, out of the courtroom and into the hall. Sablo was there, apparently waiting for her.

  “Ella, I—“

  “Save it,” she snapped. “Maybe Clarella wants to hear it.”

  He jerked back as if stung. Ella swept past, a cold smile blooming on her lips. Did he expect her to go begging back to him, after he’d abandoned her?

  We don’t need him.

  “We don’t need any of them,” she intoned, shouldering through the crowd. It didn’t matter what advantages Odril had in the arbitration, how many people betrayed her in the process. She would ruin him if she had to tear this city to the ground.

  31

  These dogs wouldn’t know culture if it stuck ‘em in the arse.

  --Councilate soldier, Riverbottom

  Ella spent the afternoon in her room, fuming. The library, the Tower, the smoking city out the window, none of it held any interest for her. Even her books seemed a petty distraction. She wished her resonance would speed time instead of slow it, make the morrow’s arbitration come sooner. She wasn’t hungry, wasn’t thirsty, wanted nothing but another chance at Odril.

  She left the Tower after a while, pacing the streets of Newgen in hopes of seeing Tai. He wasn’t there. The enclave was still cut off from the rest of the city, and she still couldn’t convince the guards to let her out.

  Sablo’s betrayal felt like the final nail in the coffin she’d been building for the Councilate. Proof that the system was rotten even at its highest levels, even among the most educated, the most apparently kind and generous. That at bottom, their worldview was about money and power, and every person they touched, every culture they reeducated, was only a tool on the way to it. They had to be stopped.

  And you’re going to stop them?

  “I’m going to do what I can, anyway. Starting with beating Odril and then, yeah, I think I’m going over to the rebels. Maybe I’ll help them fight—I’m a timeslip after all.”

  And what, defeat the Councilate?

  “Yes, Telen. Defeat the Councilate. Is that so strange? You never liked it either. You’re the one who wanted to change our House so much, to make it better.”

  He gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. Can’t argue with that, I guess.

  “But?” She knew him well enough to know there was more.

  Just don’t get yourself killed, okay? I’ve already died once.

  She gave a wry grin. “I’ll try not to.”

  Ella considered timeslipping out the gates, but the risk was too high that she would get locked out and miss tomorrow’s arbitration. Still, it was so frustrating not to be able to pass Tai this news. What had Sablo said? We’ve got someone on the inside now. Let’s just say we’ll be ready, next time they try to attack us head-on. She needed the rebels to be ready too.

  Ella paced her room, paced the Tower commons, paced the streets ag
ain. She wasn’t hungry or thirsty or worried about learning more legal jargon. She just wanted the suit done. To get her revenge and go.

  And what difference will that make, if it’s inside a corrupt system?

  She was sitting in her bed, sun still frustratingly above the horizon. “Probably nothing. But what else can I do?”

  You can get out.

  “What?”

  The army’s coming. You know that. And you know the rebels are going to get betrayed, and you can’t get word to them. This whole thing’s going to go down in shit, Ella, like the Seinjial and Yati resistances did. And you don’t want to be here when it does. Worry came from him, concern.

  She shook her head. “Where would I go? Back to Mom and Dad? This is my place now, Tels. My fight.”

  You could go anywhere, I don’t know, explore! We have a little money now. Let’s go visit the At’li, or find the Minchu. You know, do real ethnography like Markels used to. Or hell, get back to the capital and get our savings and find a way across the sea to the Gyolla.

  Ella took a deep breath, found herself standing again, pacing. Those were her dreams. All her dreams. And yet—what difference would she really make, writing a book about a dead culture or serving as an advisor to a Council that had long since erased the Achuri? What about Tunla? What about Tai?

  It’s war, Ella. People die. And even with your yuraloading thing, they can’t stand up to an army. Whether you stay or not.

  Ella stopped at the window, gazing at the charred wreck of the bluffmanses. “If I leave I’m no better than the rest of them. I’ll have no place to complain about the Councilate, because this is my chance to do something, to change something. Probably the one chance in my life, and you’re telling me to throw it away.”

  This is a chance to help yourself, E. To help me.

  Ella narrowed her eyes, as if to see him better. “Why would I need to help you? You’re a ghost, Telen, or an ancestor or whatever. You can’t get better or worse.”

  I can die again. You already took one life from me.

  She started pacing again. “Oh, now you’re going to guilt me? After you said it was okay? What the hell are you anyway, Tells? How do I know you’re not just another demon, come to torment me like LeTwi did?”

  He hesitated. Because I’m your brother.

  She cocked her head, then turned for the door. “No.” Here, at least, was something she could do now. “No, I need proof.”

  What do you mean? I already showed you I know about you and Poddy’s place. No one else could know that.

  “Yeah but I know that. I need something only you would know.”

  Like what?

  Ella thought a minute, striding down the spiral walkway. “Peccability. Sablo mentioned something about it in one of our conversations, but I haven’t had a chance to really look it up. Is it the same as culpability?”

  I—I’m not sure.

  “Elkscat. You were a licensed barrister. You would have to know this for the exam.”

  Ah—yes. Peccability is a form of guilt.

  Ella pushed through the doors to the library stacks. “Okay. Good. Now let’s take a look.” She began searching the legal section.

  You realize this is totally offensive, right? That you would even try to doubt me?

  Ella scanned the contents of a thin leather-bound volume. “You helped mom and dad keep me locked in a room for six years when you could’ve let me out at any time. I think we’re beyond taking offense. There! What did you say? That it’s a form of guilt? Peccability,” she read from the page, “refers to a client’s ability to make an error, and should not be used to refer to actual errors made, whether legally or morally binding.” She looked up, victorious.

  That’s—it’s just an interpretation.

  “Elkscat. You didn’t know. But any barrister would.”

  I forgot, alright! It’s been years since I read anything!

  “Okay. Let’s try again.”

  No. Ella, this isn’t fair.

  “It isn’t fair? Since when did you give scat about fair?” She cocked her head. “You’re afraid.”

  No I’m not.

  “I can feel it, Telen. Or whatever you are. You’re afraid, because I know now. I know you’re a fake.” She slammed the book, waiting for him to disappear.

  I’m not a fake! I’m your brother!

  With LeTwi there had been a peeling off, a sensation of getting lighter. Ella waited, scholar’s curiosity aroused—but nothing happened.

  “What the hell? You’re supposed to go away now.”

  I’m not going away because I’m not a fake.

  He still sounded scared. “No, you’re a fake. My brother would have been angry, really angry at this point, not afraid. Why aren’t you gone? Maybe I… need to take some yura?”

  Ella, please. You’re the only one I have left. Don’t do this to me.

  She snorted. “Let’s make a deal, how about? You shut up, and I’ll let you tag along until I figure out how to get rid of you. Otherwise I’m going out and spending everything I’ve got on yura and we’ll see how long you last.” She had only just gotten out of debt to Sablo, and her money was precious, but it would be worth it.

  There was a long silence. The voice that spoke again was different than Telen. Lesser, somehow.

  Deal.

  She awoke later that night, air chilly on her bare skin. The star was down out the window, just a blue glow against the western hills. The room was quiet. She saw the book she’d been reading, pushed it away. There was a nameless longing in her—not for food, not for sleep, not for scholarship.

  For revenge?

  Not for revenge either. Ella got up, pulled on some clothes, unable to decide if she should go out for some food, or just lay down again and sleep. Neither sounded good, so she sat on the bed, pillow clutched in her arms, uncomfortable silence in her head.

  Time inched by.

  A knock came at her door.

  Fear, at least, that was an emotion that came easy. Ella struck resonance, mind churning through possibilities. Odril, come to finish the job early? Clarella, wanting a fight? Councilate lawkeeper come to take her away?

  She dropped resonance. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Sablo, Ella. May I come in?”

  Sablo. Anger replaced fear, her jaw clenching. “Sablo. The scat do you want?”

  “Ellumia, will you just open the door?”

  She opened it, torchlit hall bright against her eyes. His eyes widened, and she realized she was wearing little more than a sleeping gown. “What?”

  “Ellumia, I—“ he reached out for her, and she flinched away. “—I wanted to say I’m sorry. That I couldn’t be there for you, today. It’s the legal system, it’s—“

  “It’s fine. It’s what I should have expected. I was a cute little toy until it really mattered, then just an inconvenience. I get it.”

  “No, I—“

  She shut the door, black rage welling in her, wanting to do more. To hurt him.

  “Ellumia!” His call came through the wood. “Just let me explain!”

  “Explain it to the next sow!” she growled, clenching her fists.

  “Ella—”

  “GO AWAY!”

  The arbitrarium was the same the next morning, crowd larger if anything than the day before. Ella was pleased to see Sablo wasn’t there, the replacement arbiter sitting in his seat, rounder and shorter, with a stern expression.

  Odril was there too, in a huddle with his advisers. He smirked at her, and she gave him a blank gaze. She would see him ruined, one way or another. Even if it took resonance to do it.

  The new arbiter Mentas beat the beaded staff on the tile floor. “Arbitration of Aygla versus Alson, day two. Councilors.”

  The six men and two women took their seats, adjusting their robes of office.

  “After reviewing arguments for and against yesterday,” Mentas continued, “evidence is found to be equal, barring further mindseery. Arbitration therefor
e throws out yesterday’s proceedings. We start fresh, with new evidence.”

  “What?” Ella gasped.

  “Is there a problem, Ms. Aygla?” Mentas turned cool grey-green eyes on her.

  She fought down her anger. “Sir, it had appeared yesterday that the balance of argument was against the attackers, before they brought charges of partiality against Arbiter Sablo. Defense is surprised to hear the proceedings have been thrown out wholesale.”

  Mentas thumped the staff once. “And yet they have.” He turned to the councilors. “Proceed.”

  Ella looked to her papers, head fuming. Traitors. It was no better than she’d expected, but still--

  Add him to the list.

  She looked up with a cold grin.

  “—proceed with attacker’s new lines of evidence, if any, in the countersuit of Alson versus Aygla,” one of the councilors was saying.

  “We do have new evidence for the council,” Odril replied, smirk not fully gone from his mouth. “I call first calculor Clarella Meyensfellow.”

  Ella set her jaw as the painted woman came from the attack room. What testimony could she give? She knew nothing.

  “Council recognizes Ms. Meyensfellow.”

  “Good.” Odril stepped from the podium, eyes flickering over Clarella’s form, stylishly stuffed into an emerald gown with sea green sleeves and gold jewelry. “Ms. Meyensfellow, would you repeat to the council what you told us in private?”

  “Certainly. The gist of it, councilors, was that this woman,” she gestured Ella’s direction, “had been seen from the first in Newgen consorting with High Arbiter Sablo, and rumored to be seeing others as well.”

  “Objection.” Ella willed her anger down. “The nature of my relationship with this man is private, but I can assure the council it did not involve the unlicensed sale of calculist services, which is the brunt of attack’s arguments. Ms. Meyensfellow knows this herself, from a conversation we had shortly after I moved to the Tower. Or do you deny we spoke, Clarella?”