by Clare London
Chloe laughed too, but her eyes were angry and mean, assessing us all. “The principals must be killed now. No one must question your decisions as Queen. The rest of these soldiers are but witnesses, they can be treated at my Household, and I can guarantee there will be no further unrest.”
Zander didn’t laugh at all. He dragged his gaze from Seleste, a darkening fury in his eyes that he struggled in vain to hide. “This isn’t right,” he said to me grimly. “What’s happening here? What treatment is being proposed for us all?”
“She’ll deal you a special concoction of drugs, I suspect,” I said, my voice low and urgent. “To pacify you all. She controls the Devotions.”
“For our health—”
“Not anymore,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re healthy anyway, and I’m proof of it, so is Dax. The control is solely to make us what the Mistresses want, what they need. Haven’t you felt it, the difference in battle? The restlessness in you when your Mistress has little time for you, the volatile feelings toward those you’ve been told you shouldn’t have personal respect and care for? All of that fluctuates according to the dosage they impose on you.”
Lyril stepped away from Dax’s prone body and struck me across the head with the flat of his sword. It was a vicious, unrestrained blow. The soldiers released my arms and I stumbled to my knees. Seleste turned on me.
“Be silent,” she hissed. “Or I’ll cut the boy apart limb by limb! Do you think I don’t know that will kill you as well? But it will spare me the swordplay of dispatching you both.”
Chloe spoke from beside her, a flicker of panic in her pale eyes. “The Devotions are what make our men great, you can’t deny that. With them you are fitter, more virile, with a longer, healthier life span. Our men crave that.”
“Many do,” I admitted, my voice hoarse. I spat phlegm from my mouth. My head ached and I’d cut the skin on my hands as I broke my fall. “But most would like the choice. When did you last ask them?”
“Treason!” Lyril roared and raised his sword above my head.
My life crystallized in that second as I reverted to pure fighting instinct. I crouched as best I could, ready for a leap, ignoring the pain in my leg. I wondered how many I could take down as I reached for my fallen dagger, risking being cut down by Lyril or Zander’s much longer reach. I knew Dax lay on the ground behind me, and some instinct in me sought to draw the fight away from him. I clenched my fists and shook my head sharply, trying to clear the fog of pain. Everything was blurred around me.
The sword began to fall, but Zander suddenly leaped forward and pushed Lyril aside. Lyril cried out, stumbled in surprise, and his sword whistled past my head, no more than a knuckle’s distance away, but striking the ground without injury to me. Swiftly turning, Zander kicked out at Dax’s body, pushing him to the side. Dax rolled over and kept rolling until he thudded against the Library wall and fell still, out of the range of any soldier’s weapon for the moment. Zander turned back to face Lyril, his eyes hooded and grim, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The Silver Captains pulled Seleste away from us, protecting her from what appeared to be a potentially dangerous skirmish; Chloe grabbed out for Darius’s arm. He’d already drawn his sword and his gaze was on no one but me. Soldiers shouted in the background as the Silvers of the Royal Guard tried to group themselves in order to cover both the prisoners and the astonishing behavior of their own Gold Warriors, brawling in the middle of the yard among themselves.
Then Kiel came running around the corner of the courtyard and, with a loud cry, skidded to a stop at the sight of us all there.
And so did the hundreds of people behind him.
THERE WAS a sudden, stunned silence. Lyril and Zander paused, facing off against each other, but temporarily halted by the astonishing sight. Seleste’s Silver Captains turned slowly, along with all the rest of the Guard, to face the approaching crowd. It was obvious from their expressions that they were deeply confused, perceiving danger to the Queen on several sides, yet no longer sure who posed the worst threat.
I got slowly and painfully to my feet. Zander stood nearest, but he didn’t draw his sword against me.
“Remainders,” he muttered, staring across the courtyard. “Hundreds of them. What in Devotions’ name does this mean?”
Edrius was on his other side, his eyes wide open with astonishment. When Zander moved toward the new group, Edrius shadowed him protectively.
Kiel’s face was pink with excitement and fear, and I could tell he wanted to drop to his knees in front of his Queen. But he didn’t. He inclined his head instead. His gaze darted to me and then to Zander, and his cheeks got even redder.
The people behind him were, indeed, Remainders. They were characters I recognized from their work within the city: cooks, gardeners, tailors, metalworkers, grooms, carpenters, cleaners. Obviously only a fraction of all the servants who worked there, but in enough of a mass, the numbers were still impressive. They spilled from the alleyways between the houses, and emerged from the doorways of the utility buildings around the yard. Behind every group there was another, stretching back along the walkways until there was nothing to be seen but the tops of their heads. As they stopped, haltingly, in many layers behind Kiel, the murmur of their voices trickled away. The citizens were a mix of men and women, a wide variety of ages and figures that were rarely seen all together like this. Some of them gasped; some moaned. Several fell back, scared now they faced the Queen and her soldiers. Many of them carried tools, but not in a threatening way; it wasn’t as if they carried weapons, just that they’d come straight from their labors. Their clothes were of reasonable quality—the Remainders were serviced by a large facility for clothing and utilities—but they couldn’t help but look drab against the bright, vibrant cloth of the Ladies’ gowns and the shining armor of the royal soldiers.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Seleste announced, her voice rising over the remaining murmurs of their arrival. “Kneel at once to your Queen!”
Many of them dropped to their knees, and Kiel’s eyes rolled briefly up into his head. But then he straightened his back and came forward. At my side, Zander also moved, instinctively taking a path toward Kiel.
“Mistress—” Kiel’s voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat and started again more clearly. “We beg an audience with you. And Maen.”
“Maen?” Chloe protested beside her sister. “They ally themselves with the traitor. They have no right to speak directly to the Queen like this. And they certainly can’t interfere with your disciplinary matters—they’re just slaves! Let me send the Guard to disperse them.”
“Mistress,” I said. I held my hands out to my side, showing I had no intention of attacking anyone. “Let them speak.”
I could see Seleste was furious, but at the same time she appreciated the large number of people milling in the courtyard and beyond. Even if the soldiers moved to clear them away, it would take time, and smaller conflicts could break out. I also knew she saw the wide, frightened, fascinated gazes that followed her every movement. Many of the Remainders never got to see their Queen, not even at a distance. Whatever the circumstances, she enjoyed the attention and the chance to impress her subjects, however lowly.
Another soldier ran into the courtyard, and for a second everyone tensed. But after a flat palm salute to the Queen, he turned immediately to Lyril, whispering urgently into his ear. Lyril’s face twisted in a grimace. He turned from the messenger, marched quickly to Seleste, and dropped to one knee in front of her. “A warning of an Exile attack, Mistress,” he announced rather pompously. Several of his Guard stiffened to attention. “They’re ranged up on the hills in a large force. I suggest we send men against them at once.”
I glanced around at Dax, but he still wasn’t moving. “In full view?” I said sharply. “Is that their usual approach? They know they’re outnumbered by the Guard.”
Zander glanced at me, then back to the Queen. “Maen’s right. It appears a very rash move on the
ir part. We should investigate first before committing our forces to conflict.”
“We should attack now, while they’re so vulnerable,” Lyril snapped in response. “Your instincts are seriously misled, Warrior.”
Kiel stepped forward again, his expression very earnest. His clear, bold voice sounded very young, but it carried easily over the courtyard. “But that’s what we want to talk about, Maen, what we must talk about! It’s not an Exile attack, not really. It’s the same gathering as is happening here, all the fellows with me here.” He paused for a second, gulping another breath. “I had very little time to gather people together, but I’ve done what I can, what I thought would be useful. And I sent the message out, the message I know Hann would have wanted, and this is what we all managed to do in the short time allowed us. We’re just gathering in order to be seen, to be heard. It’s a show of the people of this city. All of us: citizens, Remainders, and Exiles. We want to show the Queen. To tell the Queen.”
“To tell her what?” Lyril still had me covered with his sword.
“We want to see the book!” called a deep voice from the back of the Remainder crowd.
A couple of other voices called the same. Kiel flushed.
“They want to see the book, to see the truth of the Histories.” He looked toward the Queen with a strange mixture of fear and sadness. “That’s all. I’ve told them some things about it, after all, because I couldn’t bear the secrets by myself, because I thought it was information for us all. Isn’t it?” Briefly, his eyes looked very fierce. “These people have protected me so far, but now they think they deserve to see it.”
“What Histories? What book is he talking about?” Zander sounded angry now.
“There’s an old History,” I said. “A History that describes this world at colonization. As it really was.”
Seleste whirled around immediately, her eyes wide and shocked, her gaze on me. I saw anger and amazement in that look—and fear of something she already suspected.
In that instant, I amended slightly what I’d been going to say. “All the people were as one, then—there were no Remainders, no Exiles.”
“We were all the same!” someone shouted from the crowd. There was a swell of cries in agreement.
Seleste was pale, but she recovered herself. She spoke imperiously as always. “There are no books in the Royal Library like that, and certainly none that can be shared with base servants such as this, or rebels from the wastelands. Kill the Exile, then the scribe, at once. Then punish any others who are still in this courtyard after the sword strikes the cobbles!”
Kiel turned as white as the papers he so loved to illustrate and dropped limply to his knees on the stones beneath.
“No!” Zander cried.
Seleste turned to him again, her expression astounded. “Have you gone mad, soldier? Are you directly disobeying me? You’ll join them in execution, if you are. These men are traitors and dangerous enemies of the city, the city that protects and nurtures you. They wish to spread lies and to undermine the glorious Histories of your Queen!”
That was enough for me, I finally pushed Lyril’s sword aside, not caring if it cut me, and stumbled toward Zander’s side. “Let them speak about it,” I urged Seleste. “Let us all speak about it. Mistress, the tales in the old Histories are true, and the evidence is there for everyone to see. That’s what these people are asking for—to be seen, to be counted.”
“It’s a rebellion!” Chloe cried, shaking with anger.
I ignored her and spoke directly to Seleste, my voice urgent. “They’re still your subjects, still loyal to you. But for the first time in generations they see a chance to be recognized, to be more important than anyone has ever given them credit for—to be represented in the city’s future. No one’s ever done that for them before.” I realized I was echoing the words that Dax had said to me just before we returned to the city.
Seleste stared at me. There was something very strange in her expression. “You speak with the passion I used to know in you. The passion I thought you had for your Queen and your duty.”
“I did,” I said truthfully. “And I can still feel that passion, that loyalty.”
“But for a man,” she said, viciously. “The boy you crave and his ridiculous attempts to destabilize the city. His people are misfits and thieves and of no use to any of us, we are well rid of them all—”
“No,” I interrupted sharply. I saw Edrius’s face over Zander’s shoulder, pale and shocked at my disobedience, the same reaction as most of the Guard. They all stood to attention around Seleste, their swords drawn and ready to move against me, although there was still confusion in their faces. There’d never been such a scene between Royal Mistresses and their men, and in full view of common slaves. I knew my heart was beating too quickly, making the words catch in my throat. I knew I had to go to Dax’s help, and Kiel’s too. I also knew I’d probably die here today, for Seleste would never forgive me for such defiance and I could never stand against all her Guard. But I had to speak what was in my heart, aloud at last.
“Yes, I feel that passion for him, and that’s the most abiding love I will ever have, that I’ll ever want. Whether you kill him now or not, that will always be the case. If you kill him—you’re right, you know me well—I’ll die too, or at least my very spirit will. But I’ll never offer that passion to you instead, nor to your city, nor to your rules.”
There were spots of color high on Seleste’s beautiful cheeks. “If you had never refused the Devotions… if I had been less tolerant of you….”
I shook my head. “I’m the man I should be. I’m the man I ought to be, the man I want to be. Your Devotions would have kept me submissive for longer, but you only ever had half the man.” I felt a strange, confused pain as I looked at her, for she’d been part of my adult life for many years, and my Mistress for some of them. She’d tormented and abused me, and prevented me from pursuing the people and the life I at last felt I deserved, but she’d also been my savior and my succor in many, more complex ways.
“What is it you want?” She lowered her voice so only I could hear it clearly. “That the slaves have representation in a meeting of the Central Council? It’s madness. They are slaves, Maen—the idea is abhorrent. And the Exile renegades too? It would be political suicide for me.”
“It’s the future!” I hissed back, my argument now for the woman, not the Queen. “And you will have to make it work.” However shocking the stories in Kiel’s book might be, I wasn’t fool enough to think the city would—could—change overnight into a different, more equitable society. It would be highly dangerous to us all to attempt such a thing, either by rebellion from within or attack from outside. I didn’t seek to destroy everything that still stood, despite what Seleste might have thought of me. How could I ensure her support of this?
“It need not mean the city’s downfall. It need not threaten you.” My tone was harsh; I tried to sound persuasive, though I’d never believed I had true influence with her. But I knew neither Exiles nor Remainders would ever thrive unless Seleste allowed them her attention. All I could hope for was an appeal to her vanity, to her need to be a significant figure in the city’s current events. “You’re hosting this prestigious, planetwide Convocation over the next few months. Here’s a chance for you to bring these matters forward to the other Queens, to the Central Council itself. You’ll be the only one to offer the support of all of your people, of all the citizens, in and out of the city. Their skills, their experience, their loyalty to you. Let this be your chance to change the world indeed, and to make it as strong as possible to face the challenges ahead.”
Her face was set; she bit gently at her lower lip. Behind her, the Guard looked cautiously from the group of Remainders to the intense discussion between their Queen and one of her servants.
“Execute him!” Chloe snapped. She couldn’t hear our words, but she saw the hesitation in Seleste’s body language. She was straining forward, trying to discover what was
going on between us. Seleste’s eyes met mine. She began to shake her head, slowly.
In that instant, I took another, maybe more dangerous decision. “You will make this work,” I repeated, my tone lower but as urgent. “Otherwise, I think you know there are other tales from the past, not yet known publicly, but which would be far less palatable to your people. Ones that would not leave you your crown, or your power. Not as a Queen, not as a Mistress—not as a woman.”
Her eyes widened, and I knew I was right. She was aware of the true nature of the first settlements and the role of men in colonization. “Maen, this is blackmail.” Her voice cut through me like a cold blade. “And you’re a fool to show your hand like this. I will cut you down before you can speak a word of this to anyone.”
“Then someone else will say it after me! I’m not important. Others know, and there will be more of them in time. You can’t stop it happening—only work with it.”
She looked stunned. “Is all this for your own desires? Do you want my power for yourself? To subjugate me to you?”
I sighed, bone-weary of it all, angry at her arrogance, and sick with worry and pain. “I will not be judged by your standards. There’s nothing of yours that I want, Seleste.” I looked her in the eyes, sinking into the dark, beautiful depths of her, seeking the truth of her. “Nothing of you.”
The sound that escaped her was even less than a moan, but I heard it. For a second, we were silent, staring at each other.
When she spoke again, she drew herself to her full height, and her expression was grim. “And what of the boy? The Exile leader?”
I swallowed hard. “You will need him, and his people. You must release him.”
She raised her eyebrows. Her pupils were dilated, her look wild. “I think not. Whatever I do with these other people, I cannot spare him. He was a failure in my Guard and is today an enemy of everything I stand for. The city needs me to protect them, to lead them. All of them, as you so passionately say. I cannot disappoint them by matching dissention with weakness.” Her eyes clouded over for a second. “I will not spare him, Maen. Not for you to place him above me.”
