"I thought I told you to get her down and away," I said, taking him by the arm again and pointing at her.
"That you did, sir."
"Then why's she still up there and shouting shyte?"
"Well sir, what she's saying is sort of inspirin'."
"What? But you're a constable of the empire, and under orders!" I exclaimed.
"My orders! There's bodies and injured to be dragged off the road."
"Due respect, sir," interjected Costiger, "but the empress is gone, the city's being abandoned, and command's away te dogs. You say run, so that one in a thousand lives. Riellen says fight."
I was caught off-guard by this. Empress Wensomer was long gone, the regent and his military commanders had fled, lower-rank officers were making decisions that were normally reserved for nobles, and I had assumed command well beyond my authority. I was following the only course possible, helping the few and fit to escape while flinging the many to the wolves. There was no other way, yet...
It was now that I noticed that most of those passing cast a glance in the direction of Riellen, even if they kept moving. Some had stopped. There were three dozen people crowded about the cart, and more were breaking away from those on the road all the time.
"We must stop the Lupanians here, or we shall never stop them!" Riellen was shouting. "Brother, sisters, stay and fight! We will pull down their proud fighting towers. Stand behind us! Stand up to the Lupanians! Stand and fight!" Oddly enough, it was the Wayfarers and militiamen who were the first to sway in her direction. Halland joined us, along with three of his cavalry. Riellen was calling for people to fight, and they were fighters. Although she was a small, scrawny girl with spectacles—and a voice sharper than an assassin's dagger—she was also dressed in a Wayfarer's tunic and trousers.
"But what's to be gained by dying, miss?" called a marshal of the militia.
"We must give the Lupanians no targets, brother. No armies marching out to meet the mighty Lupanian fighting towers and their death fires. We must lie in hiding, and give them a hail of stones, arrows, and hellfire oil as they pass. We must cut down their turncoat followers. We must make the price of victory too high for the Lupanians. Who will stand with us?"
"We're with you, Miss Riellen!" called Costiger, waving a fist.
"But who'se yer commander, miss?" called a female voice.
"Aye, Miss Riellen," called another. "Who d'yer mean when yer say us?"
"The people are my commander," she replied, casting her eyes over the onlookers hurriedly. "But there, one of them is Commander Halland of Gatrov. He killed two Lupanians in their voidship. With him is Inspector Danolarian, who brought down a Lupanian death tower in the battle for Gatrov, and who stole a voidship and took two Lupanians prisoner. Even the Metrologans and Skepticals are with us! Their scholars are probing the voidship for the secrets of their magic and weapons."
That is definitely stretching the truth a little, I thought.
"You means all them great folk is with us here and now?" called an incredulous voice.
"Aye, that we are!" shouted Halland.
Suddenly everyone was cheering. Looking around, I saw that the line of refugees had broken, and was swelling around Riellen and the broken cart.
"Regent Corozan has fled the city and made a pact with the Lupanians' lackeys, but Revolutionary Brother Acting Regent Laron has stayed in Alberin to organize us!"
I blinked. I was fairly sure that Laron was unaware of his new title.
"The great Revolutionary Brother Roval, the last of the Special Warrior Service, will train those who stay. Acting Regent Laron will organize you!
Revolutionary Commander Halland will lead you! Revolutionary Inspector Danolarian will fight alongside you. Brothers! Sisters! Don't let them face the enemy alone. Fight for your city! Alberin is your city. Cut down the Lupanians, smash their fighting machines, drown their heat weapons, and scatter their traitorous lackeys. Set up a voters' state with no king and no emperor!"
"But Laron worked for the empress, and for Regent Corozan," shouted someone from back in the crowd.
"Brother Laron was sent to the palace dungeons by the Regent Corozan for spreading revolutionary wisdom, and Brother Inspector Danolarian liberated him!" explained Riellen.
"That Brother Laron's a nice, sensible lad!" called a haggard, elderly-looking woman.
"Then vote for him, sister. I like Laron, too. I shall vote for him when we have elections for the presidian of Alberin. And when we have our presidian elected, let us all stand together, all of us! Soldiers, washerwomen, priests, lamplight women, initiates, artisans, street sweepers, carpenters, merchants, and clerks! All of us, stand and fight."
By now the crowd around her cart was blocking the road, and people who had already passed were hurrying back.
"Sorry sir, but I'm with her too," said Costiger; then he pushed away through the crowd to stand by the cart.
I was left alone with my thoughts. Riellen had actually stopped the exodus. Those in authority had fled. The people of Alberin had been fleeing too, but with no idea of where to go. Who was in charge? Nobody. Who was leading? In theory, nobody. In practice I had to admit that Riellen was the only real leader within at least a hundred miles ... unless I took over, and that was a very bad idea.
"So what's to do, Inspector?" asked a voice beside me. It was Andry.
"I... I think her words are sound," I said, afraid to say otherwise.
"I'm with her, Inspector," said Andry.
"I am too," added Halland. "Come on lads, time to be seen." We got up onto the cart and gathered around Riellen, a girl of the very most junior rank in the Wayfarers. She took the cue with flawless timing.
"Here now are Commander Halland and Inspector Danolarian, to tell you how we will crush the imperialist, oppressor exploiters from Lupan!" she cried, taking Halland by the wrist and holding his arm as high as she could.
"Commander, speak to us now, if you please."
Halland stepped forward to a crashing, thunderous wave of applause and cheers.
"I am not a deserter or a mutineer, but our rulers have deserted us, so I am taking action to protect you all," Halland began. That's it, pure treason, we're now candidates for the death penalty, I thought. All we need is a Wayfarer inspector to arrest us. "Our nobles have deserted us! Our regent has deserted us! Miss Riellen has guts, she says stay and fight. Regent Laron is brave. He has stayed to defend the city! I say that Miss Riellen and Regent Laron need all the good soldiers they can get. I'm with them too. I'm going back to Alberin!"
Once again, everyone was cheering, but everyone was by now about ten thousand people.
'Tell them what to do, sir!" called Riellen to Halland above the noise. 'Tell them to follow you back."
"But we don't have a flag, banner, or pennant!" he pointed out, suddenly alarmed by what he was being given charge of.
Conducting a rally was one thing, but making an undisciplined crowd follow orders is another entirely. What we needed was something to get them all together, to give them unity. What we needed was a chant. I remembered a lazy, sunny afternoon on a barge floating down the River Alber. It had been only ten days earlier, I realized with astonishment, but it seemed like decades. Riellen and Wallas had been composing chants. I took a lungful of air, raised my fists to the sky, and cried:
"Ri-ei-len!
"Will lead us!
"We '11 never be defeated!"
As a chant, it was not particularly sophisticated, but sophisticated chants are never rousing chants. To the frightened, leaderless people of Alberin it said that some girl called Riellen was with them. Whoever Riellen was, she was planning to fight the Lupanians. That automatically put her ahead of all the others in authority. She also had military-looking men rallying around her, so she was clearly a fighting leader. A fighting leader. She was a leader who was actually going to lead and fight. That inspired confidence. The crowd took up my chant, and within moments it was deafening.
"Commander, sir, w
hy are they chanting about me?" asked Riellen, shouting to Halland to make herself heard.
"Because you're their leader, and they want you to know they're behind you."
"Me sir? No, no, no, no, what I want them to do is to go back to Alberin, where we shall hold a rally and elect representatives of the voters to—"
"Riellen! Wake up to yourself and look around you. There's ten thousand people gathered about this wagon who are waiting for your lead, because you are the only person standing between them and the Lupanian conquest of Scalticar—and maybe the world!"
"But sir—"
"Miss Riellen, do you have any orders for us?"
"Orders?" asked Riellen, whose plans had clearly not yet moved below strategy and into tactics.
"Miss Riellen, I respectfully suggest that we lead our recruits back to Alberin, where we will plan the defense of the city," he said, gesturing back in the direction of the city. "Is that your order?"
"But there has been no vote."
Turning away from her, Halland held his hands high for silence. Silence came quickly.
"I proposed that Miss Riellen be declared elector of Greater Alberin until elections are held," he improvised. "Who says yes?" A thunderous roar was the response. To me it sounded like nothing in particular, but it was the right noise in the right place, at the right time.
"Who says no?"
Silence greeted the three words. The first electocratic movement in the history of the known world had conducted its first election, and now it had an interim leader.
Riellen refused to ride a horse. She said that it was the sort of thing a noble would do, and citizens should ride only if they needed fast transport. Thus it was that she led the citizens who had rallied around her on the half-mile trek back to their city on the shoulders of Costiger and Halland, who were the two tallest among us. They were all chanting my words: that Riellen united them, and that they would never be defeated. As they marched, the exodus from the city faltered, stopped, then began joining in the return.
Chapter Nineteen
ALBERIN AGAINST THE LUPANIANS
That evening Riellen addressed an enormous rally before the palace gates. Because an elector had not hitherto existed before Halland had made up the word, she decided that it was going to mean an officer who organized elections. She decreed that Laron was to continue as acting regent, and appointed Halland as commander of the Electocratic Militia of Alberin. In turn he appointed Roval as marshal general of Citizens' Militia Training. I was made one of several dozen marshal inspectors by Roval, which means that I was to decide which recruits could dispense with basic training, and which of them needed to be shown which end of a crossbow to point at the enemy.
"This is ludicrous," I muttered as Laron and I drank a beer in the former regent's private audience chamber. 'Thanks to Riellen, nine tenths of Alberin's population is back in their homes, and countryfolk are arriving by the hour to join in the fight. Those under the regent's command are the bulk of the city's warriors, however, and they are safely in the summer palace, fifty miles away."
'Too true," said Laron.
"So, you have a city full of people awaiting your orders." "Up yours, Inspector." "What will you tell them?"
"You're trying to depress me. I condemn you to death, go away and kill yourself."
"Alberin still needs your orders." "I'm open to suggestions." "But you're the acting regent."
"I'm actually Revolutionary Acting Regent. Or is that Interim Brother Regent?
I try not to listen when Riellen is talk-ing.
"I'm only an inspector. That's a commoner, in case you have not heard."
"Commoners don't exist anymore. Only citizen voters."
"What are your orders, Citizen Voter Interim Regent Laron?"
"Perhaps Halland could lead."
"Halland's not an administrator," I pointed out. "You are needed to organize the city."
"Riellen is insisting on elections for presidian in three days." "Are you going to, er, stand?"
"Riellen wants to see me about that once she finishes writing out a declaration of citizens' rights, and has had a meeting of the electoral advisors."
"What are they?"
"I'm not sure, but apparently I am one," Laron sighed with either resignation or hopelessness. "So are you." "Sorry? The what?"
"The Revolutionary Interim Council Electoral Advisors of Greater Alberin on Lupanians. You are one of the few who has actually seen a Lupanian up close and lived to talk about it, so you qualify for membership." The meeting of the electoral advisors took place in the former throne room. The throne had been taken out earlier, smashed up in the plaza before the palace, and the pieces consigned to a number of bonfires upon which supplies liberated from the royal siege stores were being roasted for the consumption of those whose food had been looted. We sat on stools at a very plain, square table, one to a side. At the first meeting there were only four of us: Riellen, Laron, Halland, and myself. Riellen commenced the meeting by drawing a line across each comer.
"Because I propose having eight people on this council, brothers, I propose that we cut the corners off the table so that we have eight equal sides," Riellen explained.
"Er, are not the legs under those corners?" asked Laron.
"Excellent point, brother, we must have the legs relocated as well. Now, I propose that we require a Citizens' Advisor. What others do we need?"
"Training Advisor," said Halland. "Oh, and Intelligence Advisor."
"Medicar Advisor," suggested Laron.
"I wish the meeting to consider a Sorcery and Cold Sciences Advisor," I said, meticulously avoiding a direct comment to Riellen, who I had still not forgiven for the previous three years.
"All of us should address the meeting if we are to be truly equal," Laron pointed out. "Citizen Danolarian has a good point." "Excellent. Does the meeting accept this?" asked Riellen. "Yes," we chorused.
"I nominate, er, the city crier for Citizens' Advisor," said Riellen.
"He is Citizen Wallengton, and I nominate Roval for Training," said Halland.
"Learned Justiva of the Metrologans for Medicar," said Laron.
"Academician Lavenci Si-Chella has better firsthand knowledge of the Lupanians than any other scholar," I pointed out.
"Has that been proposed to the meeting as a suggestion?" asked Riellen.
"Yes," I said firmly.
"Citizen Danolarian for Intelligence," said Halland. "Declined!" I said flatly. "Acting Regent Laron can do better."
"Does the meeting accept those nominations?"
"Aye," declared the others, although Riellen hunched over a little as she spoke.
"Nay," declared my lone voice. "I have no place here, I propose that my place be left vacant for special advisors to be coopted as needed." The next vote included the amendment, and was unanimous.
"Scribe citizens, are we speaking too fast?" Riellen asked those scribbling the minutes behind each of us.
"We're coping, Miss Riellen," said the youth behind Riellen.
"Excellent, now to business. I propose an election date three days from now. The people must see quick results from our reforms. Brother Laron, will you tell the meeting how the city is progressing with defense?"
"Well, folk have been ordered to gather every bow, crossbow, spear, and ax that can be found, whether it be in a cottage or the royal—er, former royal—armory. That gives people a notion that we are actually doing something. Every arrow and bolt must be gathered as well. Everyone who can make arrows and bolts must be recruited and put to work within the hour, and all militiamen—no, everyone who can use a bow or crossbow must report for drilling and instruction. That includes women, if they have ever used a bow in hunting."
"But the idea is not to take on the fighting towers directly!" protested Riellen.
"Quite so, elector, but the followers of the Lupanians form quite a sizable army, and they may need to be repelled," said Halland, anticipating Laron's thinking. "The fighting towers
must be dealt with separately."
"May I point out to the meeting that the women and children of the city also wish to help?" asked Laron.
"They don't know how to fight," I pointed out.
"But how long would it take to teach a woman how to hit properly with a stick, and stab effectively with a kitchen knife?"
"Not long," I said. "I've arrested a lot of women who have done it to their husbands with no training at all."
"Brother Inspector Advisor Danolarian, the meeting requests that you see newly appointed Elector Advisor Roval about organizing a series of half-day seminars on hitting with sticks and throwing rocks," said Riellen, going to some effort to remain neutral. "When you are done, see Elector Advisor Wallengton about informing the citizens, and Elector Advisor Halland about appointing and briefing instructors."
And so the meeting progressed, rather like a very light wagon being drawn by a team of very strong horses that were galloping as hard as they could, while totally out of control. Some catapults from the merchant ships in Alberin's harbor were to be seized, operating teams gathered and trained, and dummy catapults assembled. Halland ordered every drop of pitch and oil in the city to be collected, along with rags and straw. Notices and declarations were sent out every quarter hour or so, but we remained. A carpenter arrived to modify the table. So did Wallengton, with a couple of dozen criers. Then came Roval, with one eye bandaged. Justiva arrived, and told me that I was needed outside the doors to the throne room. There I found dozens of people waiting for instructions from Riellen. Lavenci was there too. I beckoned her into the throne room, then across to a corner where we could whisper in private.
"She rules this city," hissed Lavenci, her black eyes huge with alarm. "She can have us killed anytime she wishes."
"You are thinking like a noble," I replied. "Riellen is the very opposite of a noble. You have been appointed to her council of advisors."
"Garbage! That was a trick to get me here for execution. They sent a carriage and a dozen guards. I only came here because I thought you were in danger."
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