Most people would have never expected to be so close to the Emperor.
Arguments rose from the confusion. Even a few fistfights, though no one was seriously hurt.
I was just happy that I wouldn’t be making any of the decisions.
When Taro and I showed up at Aryne’s tent for supper, Aryne was irritable and happy to grumble about it. “I’m sick of spending all of my time in tents, memorizing the names of dead people and dead laws while everyone else is risking their lives.”
“You will be tested on this information,” Druce reminded her calmly.
“If I had the throne, half of those laws would be going out.”
“You can’t know how the laws work until you are in the midst of using them. It’s unwise to make plans about a situation you haven’t experienced yet.”
“You think some of those laws are stupid, too,” Aryne challenged.
“Of course,” Druce admitted. “But you still shouldn’t be making plans in advance.”
“And you’re exaggerating,” Taro chided Aryne with a stroke of her cheek. “You ride and run every day.”
“In circles,” Aryne muttered. “And never alone. No one ever lets me be alone.”
“You might as well get used to it,” said Taro. “That’s part of the life of a monarch.”
“Maybe I’ll refuse the throne.” Aryne made that threat regularly. I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be in her place.
“You’ve often complained that you have no useful skills,” Druce reminded her.
“This isn’t about skill. It’s about blood and politics.”
“If you don’t show yourself to be properly educated, neither of those will matter.”
Aryne glared at her. “Will you just let me whine in peace?”
Druce smiled.
“I like Druce,” I said to Taro once we’d left the young women and were on the way to our own tent.
Taro laughed. “That’s because she reminds you of you.”
“That’s not true,” I objected.
“Calm, mild-mannered, disciplined. Quite unlike a Source.”
That was true. “If Aryne continues to allow Druce to guide her …. Not that I would ever want Aryne to be some kind of puppet, of course, but she will need help to do a good job.”
“Aryne has the excellent ability to determine the honest from the dishonourable. And Druce is of enormous help in the lessons. She can’t memorize dozens of facts like Aryne can, but she has a true understanding of what she learns and is able to explain things brilliantly. I think they’ll do well. After a period of adjustment, of course.”
“It’s a hard row for one so young.”
If only everyone had given her more time, just a few more years.
There were no attacks during the night, no new word of Green before we gathered once again in the tent holding Gifford.
There was an addition to our party. The Deputy Commissioner stood beside the Emperor, the tip of his sword resting against Gifford’s throat. An unsubtle reminder of the Commissioner’s threat from the day before.
The Emperor’s eyes looked horribly red, and he was trembling. His voice was thin when he claimed, “You wouldn’t dare kill me.”
“We haven’t the resources to maintain someone who serves no purpose,” said the Commissioner.
“We are your sovereign.”
“An Emperor has no authority if the people don’t grant it. There is no one here who considers you our leader. There is no one among Green’s forces who continue to regard you as their leader. I imagine once Green reaches Erstwhile, no one there will recognize you as their ruler there, either. You have no place other than what we give you. You have no worth beyond what you can give us.”
“You’ll be given nothing but unimaginable pain and loss.”
Before the Commissioner could respond, a private ducked into the tent. “Please forgive me, sir,” he gasped. “A caravan has arrived. Dozens of wagons. They’re filled with supplies!”
“From whom?”
“Lady Westsea.”
By gods, Fiona was fabulous.
The Commissioner rewarded the young man with a slight smile. “How generous of her. I’ll examine them immediately. Your Majesty, perhaps you’d like to join me. Halperin, bring him.”
One of the soldiers grabbed the Emperor by the arm and pulled him after the rest of us.
I thought this new delivery would have three effects. It would provide us with much needed supplies. It would demonstrate Fiona’s continuing wealth. And it would show the Emperor that people from other corners of the continent were still loyal to the Triple S.
The wagons were filled with dried meat and dried fruit, flour and oatmeal, sugar and molasses. There was coal and peat. There were fans and ebony and incense and all manner of other casting ingredients. There was leather and linen. There were medicines. And that was just what I could see with a relatively quick look over.
The Emperor choked at the sight. His shoulders slumped. He actually leaned against the soldier standing next to him.
This reaction seemed to please the Commissioner. “You may escort His Majesty back to his tent, Halperin.”
We ate better that night than we had in weeks. It lifted everyone’s mood. I overheard many soldiers compliment Fiona on her generosity. I also heard many state that if so great a titleholder as Westsea still had faith in the Triple S, so could everyone else.
Some suggested that it wasn’t loyalty to the Triple S that prompted Westsea’s actions, but to Taro.
That, said some, was the same thing, or as good as.
Such high spirits wouldn’t last long, I knew. The comments about the Triple S reaching beyond its proper place would return. Many would think Aryne wasn’t a suitable replacement for the Emperor, and would argue about who was.
Some suggested Taro. Of course.
Through the rest of the day and all through the night, there was no sign of Green or any of her people.
When we visited the Emperor again the next morning, he was shaking so hard I couldn’t imagine how he could remain standing. There was no defiance or arrogance about him.
No one showed him any sympathy. The Commissioner’s manner was still brisk. He still had the Deputy Commissioner standing beside Gifford with the tip of his sword at the Emperor’s throat.
“It was such an impractical plan, really,” the Commissioner said in a casual tone. It sounded like he had leapt into the middle of an almost friendly conversation. “Trying to usurp everyone’s responsibilities and control everyone so harshly from Erstwhile. The mere difficulty of obtaining reliable information over such distances was bound to cripple your efforts to impose your brutal regime. How could you dominate everyone when you didn’t even have current information about their actitivies?”
I didn’t understand why the Commissioner was taking that conversational road. What did any of that matter?
“In fact, I can’t believe anyone with any intelligence would think this plan would work at all,” the Commissioner continued. “Was this your plan, Your Majesty?”
The Emperor quickly looked up at him.
“Or did someone else devise this plan for you?”
Interesting idea.
“Someone who suggested, perhaps, that the laws you inherited were incorrect or weak. Someone who convinced you that the Triple S was your enemy. Someone who convinced you to execute all of the titleholders who were once your strongest supporters. Someone who convinced you the best way to demonstrate your power was a direct physical assault on Shidonee’s Gap.”
Ah. The Commissioner was verbally pounding down Gifford’s morale.
“Someone who has deserted you in the hands of your enemy. Possibly assuming you would be killed. Someone who is running back to Erstwhile where she will convince her handpicked titleholders that she, as the Emperor’s fiancé, is the only legitimate heir to the Imperial throne.”
The focus of the Emperor’s eyes shifted all over the place. He was go
ing through past incidents, I imagined, seeing them in a new light.
“Tell me, Your Majesty, when did you start feeling ill?”
The blood drained from Gifford’s face.
As far as I was concerned, this meant that Gifford, right then, came to believe that Green had deliberately done something to him to make him weak, to undermine his authority.
He would start talking, giving us all of the information the Commissioner demanded. To spite Green, if for no other reason. It was the only power he had left.
Then he straightened his spine. He stared at the Commissioner. He took a step back, and I thought he was going to make a desperate attempt to run. Instead he thrust himself forward and forced his throat onto the tip of the sword, pushing it in deep.
For a moment, the Deputy Commissioner just stood there, gaping in shock. Then he yanked his blade free.
It was already too late, though. Blood gushing from his throat, the Emperor collapsed.
“Get Browne!” the Commissioner shouted, and a private ran out of the tent.
It wouldn’t do any good. I’d seen enough to know all the bandages in the world wouldn’t stop Gifford’s death, and no spell Browne cast would manage it, either. Healing casts didn’t work on suicides.
“Everyone out!” the Commissioner barked, and we were all quick to obey.
It was less than a fraction of an hour, though, when Browne and the Commissioner left the tent. “The Emperor is dead,” the Commissioner announced bluntly.
I felt oddly disappointed. And angry. He’d taken the easy way out, avoiding responsibility like a coward. He should have faced the fury and retribution he deserved.
The Commissioner asked Browne, “Do you have any means of preserving the body?”
Browne, looking a little stupefied, blinked her eyes slowly before asking, “What?”
“We have to take the body back to Erstwhile, to prove that the Emperor is dead. We don’t want the body rotting on the way.”
It was good that the Commissioner didn’t let emotion overrule his mind. Really. Even if it was disturbing to watch.
Browne drew herself under control. “I’ll arrange it.”
“We need to follow Green, and we can’t afford to be slowed carrying the wounded. What is your recommendation?”
After a short hesitation, Browne said, “They can be transported to Olab.”
Olab was the closest settlement that had more than a couple hundred residents. It would be difficult for them to manage the influx of so many wounded.
“Once you’ve made the arrangements, hand your responsibilities to another healer,” the Commissioner ordered. “You’re coming with us.”
Browne frowned, clearly unhappy, but she nodded.
“Deputy Commissioner Khouri, see that everyone receives a portion of whiskey before supper. We’ll stand a few moments. He was weak and dark, but he was still the Emperor. That should be honoured.”
For a few moments.
Then, finally, the Commissioner turned to Taro. “You might want to inform Lady Aryne she’s one step closer to the throne.”
With the speed that news travelled in the camp, I was sure she already knew. Poor girl.
Chapter Thirty
The mayor of Patlach showed the Commissioner a clunky, ugly necklace of gold. I had seen the Emperor wear something like it, but the jewels had been stripped off of it. “Lady Green gave this to us,” he said. “As a sign of good faith. As an apology for what the Emperor did to us, and a promise that we would have all that was taken from us returned.”
The mayor was cool in manner and had made it clear that he had little interest in speaking with the Commissioner or anyone else connected with the Triple S.
“Gold is worthless if there’s nothing to buy,” said the Commissioner. “They’ve stripped everything bare. There’s nothing left to return.”
“She’ll find a way.”
“How can you believe she’ll consider your needs after everything she’s done?”
“None of the troubles were her doing. She swore fealty to the Emperor and couldn’t honourably oppose him, even when he was ill and irrational. She did try to restrain him. Everyone knows that.”
Looking back over the interactions between Gifford and Green, I could see how such rumours could start, rumours claiming Green had done her best to protect those around her. Her manner of touching his arm when he was particularly unreasonable. Her near constant serenity in the face of his wandering sense and emotion. The scout she had saved from the ordered flogging was no doubt telling everyone of Green’s kindness.
Unfortunately, the average person was probably unaware of the motives behind Green’s actions, which were to protect her interests, not anyone else’s.
Our entire force had followed her all the way back across the continent, never quite managing to catch up with her. She had given herself a head start by leaving behind all of the dead and injured from our last clash, and Browne and her healers just couldn’t bear to leave them untended. Thereafter, her forces had been steadily sinking. Anyone else who fell ill along the way was also discarded. Scouts reported that deserters were leaving by the hundreds, their numbers jumping up drastically after Green chose the best members of her cavalry and raced off ahead to Erstwhile, leaving the bulk of her forces to follow after.
She had made stops along the way, visiting some of the settlements that had been razed by Gifford. At each stop, she apologised for the Emperor, admitted that he had egregiously violated law and custom, promised things would be better in the future, and left behind a jewel or a small sack of coins to buy forgiveness and trust.
Many she had spoken with seemed to have been won over by her. I found it baffling. People had short memories. Or they were so desperate to believe things would get better that their faith could be easily bought.
“I see.” The Commissioner no longer spent much time trying to convince people that Green was dangerous. We’d have to prove it some other way. “Thank you for your time.”
We left the mayor’s house.
“We might as well move on,” the Commissioner said to Sato.
Sato nodded.
Our people had settled just west of Patlach’s city limits. We made our way around it and continued on to Erstwhile.
We hadn’t gone far, though, when Browne came up to me. “We’ve come across another one,” she announced grimly.
I knew what she meant, and I wasn’t surprised. These “finds” had been turning up all along our march after Green. We no longer bothered to ask the Commissioner to halt the troops. We just took a look, handled it ourselves, and caught up with everyone else.
Taro and I followed Browne to the corpse of the latest caster to be left behind by Green, right out in the open on the grass and impossible to miss. Murdoch was kneeling beside it. “It’s the same as the others,” he told us.
The stench was overpowering and the body was covered with flies, the skin gray and starting to disintegrate. The twisted limbs and torso and the multitude deep cuts all over the body, right through the clothing, made it clear the man was a victim of a black cloud.
“It’s Caster Laing,” I said.
We had no idea what was going on with Green’s casters. According to our scouts, Green’s people thought the casters were deserting. Why would Green have her own casters executed? Wasn’t she afraid of running out? And why was she lying about it? Wouldn’t it be better for morale if the troops believed the casters were being punished for a violation, rather than just running away?
Weirder still, the casters were being left for us to find. Deliberately. What kind of message was that meant to convey? Was it a warning to our own casters, that if they continued to support us they faced the same end?
Again and again, I thought of that instant in the battle when it seemed Dench had intentionally killed another of Green’s casters. Had my impression been correct? And if it had been, had he been acting under Green’s orders? Surely he wouldn’t dare do it without her per
mission.
But it didn’t make sense.
Six soldiers ran up to us, bearing shovels. Browne would have told someone that there was a body to bury. The soldiers dug the hole while Browne, Murdoch, Taro, and I watched. I had objected to that at first, leaving all of the work for the soldiers to do, as though the rest of us were too important to participate, but the soldiers didn’t seem to find it odd and expressed no resentment over it. Taro pointed out that the soldiers had been the ones to bury all of the dead after the clashes, and why should this be any different?
Because we were right there. We weren’t occupied with other tasks. But the soldiers certainly seemed efficient with the chore, and I’d probably just get in their way.
We didn’t have time for a proper funeral. The body was laid in the hole, the hole was filled in, and we all rejoined the others.
The march from our last battle had seemed endless, had felt to me even longer than my march with Gifford and Green. Perhaps it was merely a matter of being tired of it: the longer we marched the worse it felt. Our stops along the way didn’t breach the sensation of somehow living in a bubble, in an existence apart from the rest of the world, with our different rules and our different schedules.
When we were a day away from Erstwhile, it felt like an abrupt disruption of the pattern that my life had become.
We settled for the night, having decided our assault on the wall would take place just before the following dawn. I barely slept, afraid Green’s people might attack in the dark. There was no doubt Green knew we were coming. But no attack came.
I gave up on sleep long before dawn. I dressed in my uncomfortable uniform and left our tent so I could have some room to pace. I exchanged greetings with other folk who couldn’t sleep, but really, no one spoke much. We were all too tense.
It was still dark when the whistles were blown. People left their tents and, knowing what was expected, we all approached Erstwhile on foot. Many of us split into groups and surrounded the city, standing far enough from the wall that no one was likely to hit us if they tried throwing anything at us. Each group had a Pair, two casters, and sixteen soldiers. The soldiers were there to protect the Pairs and the casters, but they were not the ones responsible for this part of the plan.
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