We created. Ass.
“There’s no harm in listening,” Sato said to the Commissioner.
I wanted to hear what they expected, too. It would probably be fantastically offensive.
“You may proceed,” the Commissioner repeated.
That irritated Firen just as much the second time. Maybe more.
Heh.
Firen drew his fingertip along lines on the map. The map was of the continent, and the lines Firen was bringing to our attention were lines I’d never seen before. “It’s quite simple,” he said. “This land will be under Her Majesty’s authority, and this land will be under the Triple S. The Crown will no longer provide funding, but the Triple S will be able to collect taxes directly from the inhabitants of its lands, as well as any settlements where Pairs are needed within Her Majesty’s territories.”
Another tax for people to pay in addition to the goods they were required to provide to us for free? In addition to the taxes they already paid to support the Triple S academies? They’d revolt and I wouldn’t blame them.
I didn’t know why I was so shocked. Green had tossed out and bent so many laws. It was just that this … it felt particularly low.
“Of course, the Triple S will pay taxes to the Crown. As does every other guild.”
We were not a guild.
“The Triple S would have to provide the Crown with regular reports. While the Triple S will for the most part have the authority to place Pairs, at times the Crown will have its own needs, and the Triple S will have to comply with Her Majesty’s orders.”
This was an interesting offer. Everything would be stripped away from us except the alienation of everyone on the continent. We were supposed to think this arrangement was of some benefit to us? It was so insulting it almost made me laugh.
Unless …. Perhaps Green had deliberately created a proposal she knew we couldn’t accept, and then she would claim to her followers that she’d tried to settle our differences and we had been obstructive beyond reason.
“There are final details to be determined, of course,” Firen added.
The Commissioner laughed. A full out explosion of genuine amusement. I’d never heard anything like it from him. Neither had anyone else, if their stunned reactions were any indication. We just all waited for him to stop.
And once he did, his voice as he spoke was dead calm again. It was a little disturbing. “All these details are to be determined by Lady Green, I suppose.”
“The Triple S will have input.”
The kind of input that would be ignored.
“And the merchants?” said the Commissioner.
“What about them?”
Seriously?
“They are part of the agreement. The third that completes the tripartite.”
Firen waved a hand. “Not a necessary element. Are you truly prepared to submit to the influence of merchants?”
The Commissioner pressed on. “And the farmers? The guilds? All those others who are not of the Triple S or the High Landed?”
Firen frowned again, appearing confused. “No such people were part of the original negotiations for the Tripartite Act, and they lack the ability to understand it or provide useful contributions.”
How could he dismiss such a large part of the population so glibly? Did he really think a government could just step on people and step on people and step on people and those people wouldn’t at some point snap?
I looked at Green. She was just standing there with a blank expression on her face. She didn’t appear interested in the negotiations.
“Your mistress proposes the destruction of balance that has been maintained for centuries,” said the Commissioner.
“That something has always been done before doesn’t mean it should continue to be so done. The balance no longer exists.”
“Only according to the Crown.”
“The Crown is all that truly matters. Only the Crown represents all people.”
That was an interesting interpretation of the facts.
“Your terms are ….” the Commissioner paused to pick the perfect word.
Say ridiculous. Please say ridiculous.
“… unacceptable.”
How bland.
“You don’t have a choice,” said Firen.
He was pretty cocky for someone on the losing side.
The Commissioner looked at Taro. “Destroy the building.”
Taro couldn’t destroy the building from where we were standing, but no one raised that fact. Sometimes, when people were in the middle of a tense discussion, they forgot important details.
“Destroy the building,” Firen said calmly. “We’ll build another. We’ll screw the money out of the residents of every settlement on the continent, and it will be made clear to them why our actions are necessary.”
Damn. That was a good one.
And Green had already managed to lure so many people to her way of thinking. It was possible they could be made to believe the Triple S was the cause of future waves of hardship.
“You don’t have enough coin to pay enough people to chip out rock and bring it here,” said the Commissioner. “The nearest quarry is half a continent away, and no one will be willing to leave their families and homes, not after all they’ve suffered.”
“People will obey the Empress,” Firen claimed.
“She isn’t the Empress.”
“She will be.”
“The Emperor never married her,” the Commissioner pointed out. “She hasn’t royal blood.”
It was at this point that Green finally spoke. “I was chosen by His Majesty as his heir,” she announced.
Ah, hell.
“We’ll need to see the succession documents,” said the Commissioner.
Green raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Yes.”
Commissioner said this in such an easy tone, with no hesitation, and it was fantastic.
Green didn’t like that. Well, no one would, but she really seemed shocked to be distrusted. Maybe she’d been surrounded by sycophants for too long. “Solicitor Natson.”
Natson looked surprised to be addressed. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Present the succession documents,” Green ordered impatiently.
Natson appeared confused. “I don’t have them.”
Green glared at her. “You drafted them.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Solicitor Beeks told me he delegated the task to you.”
Firen raised an eyebrow at Green. “Was that why you had him executed this morning?” he asked. “He acted against your wishes?”
I couldn’t help staring at him. Had I heard him right? Had he just questioned one of Green’s orders in front of us? Had he implied a criticism of it?
And Green was clearly furious. “Not my wishes,” she ground out through her teeth. “His Majesty’s orders.”
“Beeks didn’t speak to me about this matter,” Natson said quickly. “Perhaps my lady misheard?”
Green slapped her.
Natson’s face jerked back in reaction to the blow, but she didn’t appear to be surprised by Green’s action. Some of the others among Green’s supporters were, though, exchanging glances, raising eyebrows.
“If there are no succession documents – ,” said the Commissioner.
“They are in the possession of one of the other Imperial Solicitors,” Green interrupted.
The Commissioner spoke over her. “- you have no claim to the throne. Aryne Malkar is a true descendant of Her Imperial Majesty Constia.”
“There are no more such descendants.”
“Source Karish was told this by Her Majesty herself. ”
“Source Karish lies.”
“Sources don’t lie.”
That myth came in so handy.
“She has the royal mark,” the Commissioner continued. “And she knows the code.”
“I know the code,” Green responded. “Given to me by His Imperial Majesty
.”
If that were true, maybe he really had signed succession documents naming Green his heir. I just had a feeling he hadn’t, because it seemed that Green hadn’t seen the documents herself, as she surely would have insisted upon if the Emperor had truly had them drafted while he was still alive. It seemed more likely to me that she had ordered the documents be written when we’d shown up at the city. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t created false documents before.
But something had gone wrong. Had it gone wrong on purpose?
I looked at Natson, trying to read her expression, attempting to determine whether she had been manipulating events, but she was looking at the ground and I couldn’t discern any hint of her thoughts.
“Then the only solution is to have both potential heirs perform the code,” said Firen, shocking me yet again. “Whoever performs it with the greatest proficiency shall ascend to the throne.”
Talk about reaching back for ancient customs.
Green was furious. “There shall be no such fiasco!” she hissed.
“Your Majesty,” he said to her gently, “when you demonstrate your skill with the code, no one will doubt that you were chosen as the Emperor’s heir. Your victory will demonstrate there are none who can perform the necessary duties with better talent. Malkar’s blood will be meaningless, and she will be shown to be guilty of treason.”
Which would mean she could be executed. And she would be. It would be stupid of Green to let her live.
We had to get Aryne out of there. Maybe back to Flatwell.
“And it would silence any last trace of opposition. You will have defeated the Triple S in all ways.”
Green was still fuming. Firen was in trouble. I wondered if I would ever see him again. He was arranging circumstances to make Green put on a performance. I wouldn’t blame her for thinking it was demeaning. But after a few moments, she gave him a stiff nod.
“We will need three days to prepare,” Firen told the Commissioner. “We expect to see Malkar at the palace by the dawn of the fourth. If she fails to appear, she will forfeit any alleged right to the throne, and you will all be found to be traitors.”
Really? They were going to execute all of us? They were running out of people. Who would they tax if almost everyone was dead?
“Understood,” said the Commissioner. “We will be bringing all of our forces within the city walls, and twenty within the palace.”
“That is unacceptable.”
“Lady Aryne will not be left vulnerable. Either accept these terms or hostilities will resume.”
Firen looked to Green.
“Agreed,” Green said through her teeth. Then she turned and walked away. She didn’t stomp, but her posture was stiff.
No further mention of Gifford. Apparently he was already insignificant.
There was an awkward moment or two. Neither side wanted to turn their back to the other in order to leave. Green had been a little reckless doing it herself.
No matter what happened, how were we all going to live together again?
The Commissioner was the first to leave, the Premier Pair following. Then Firen strode off.
The rest of us couldn’t imitate their aplomb. My back was too itchy to leave it completely bare to having something thrown at it. We left the table with a ludicrous sideways sort of scamper.
Once we were far enough away to feel less vulnerable, Taro and I ran back to the camp. We needed to talk to Aryne.
Her tent was, as expected, surrounded by four sentries, one on each side. “The danger is over,” Taro said to the sentry guarding the entrance. “You can go now.”
The man didn’t move. “The Commissioner’s in there with her,” he said. “He doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
Damn it, he’d gotten to her first. Not that I wanted to keep him away from Aryne. I had just wanted to be the one to tell her what had happened, so we could get right to the part of helping her leave.
“Or overheard,” the sentry added sharply.
“I can’t actually hear them well enough to understand what they’re saying,” I said, and that was true.
“Than it won’t be a problem for you to keep a greater distance.”
Fine. Do your job properly. What did I care? We moved a few paces away.
The Commissioner wasn’t there long. As he left the tent he looked at us with a faint expression of exasperation, but he didn’t say anything to us as he passed.
We promptly ducked into the tent, where we found Aryne and Druce sitting on the floor, looking dejected.
“What did he tell you?” Taro demanded.
“That I have to compete for the throne with the code,” Aryne answered in a flat tone.
“Did he tell you you’ll probably be executed if you lose?”
“Yes.”
Well, the Commissioner didn’t seem the sort to slide over the harsh details, so I shouldn’t have been surprised.
I sat beside her and whispered, “I think you should leave. It won’t be hard. I’ll make you unseeable.”
She looked appalled. “You’d have me be a coward?”
She didn’t let her obvious surprise and her dislike for the idea raise the pitch and volume of her voice. Good girl. “This is too much to ask of you.”
“You want to let the crazy woman have the crown?”
“We’ll think of another way.”
“What other way? Seems to me that everything’s been tried.”
It seemed so to me, as well, but that wasn’t the point. “You need to leave.”
“And go where?”
“Anywhere you want. It’s not as though everyone will recognize you on sight.”
“They’ll know I’m a Shield.”
“Not if you pass as a regular.”
“And then how will I live? And Druce? What’s she supposed to do?”
“I don’t have a plan right now, but anything is better than being executed.”
“And all the people who died getting me here? You want me to throw their sacrifice away?”
“No, of course not, I just – ”
“Do you think I can’t do it?”
“Of course you can.” Probably.
“Then why are you changing the song all of a sudden?”
“Because it’s right in front of us,” I admitted. “There’s no doubt it’s going to happen. I’m worried.”
Druce said, “Aryne is younger and stronger than Green. Smarter, too. Green might have more experience with manipulating people, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the code.”
It might. If this was going to be a competition, there would be people judging it. They would be Green’s people, unless the Commissioner could bend it otherwise. The kind of influence each competitor had over the judges would be of enormous significance.
I didn’t have a chance to point that out.
“I’m doing it,” Aryne announced firmly.
And that was the end of that.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The next three days weren’t spent just waiting for the code to begin. Suddenly, everyone was involved in making sure Aryne was made as ready as possible. She was given the best of our remaining food. No one in the area was allowed to speak or make any other noise while she slept. Many took turns quizzing her, challenging her, polishing her.
It wasn’t anything different from what we’d been doing the whole trip, just more intense and involving more people.
Which meant more people knew more parts of the code than they ever had before, but I had the feeling whoever won was going to be devising a new code, anyway.
We didn’t completely let down our guard, of course. While I would have been surprised if Green had actually attacked us – we’d shown our superiority in the clashes, I believed – an attempt to assassinate Aryne would have been characteristic. However, no such attempts were made.
On the fourth day, the whole camp was up an hour before dawn, ready to escort Aryne to the palace.
Well, most of
them. Some of them had taken off, unprepared to be seen among the Triple S’s forces in case Aryne lost. We still had more people than Green, unless the Erstwhile residents decided to take up arms against us, which they didn’t seem prepared to do. As we walked through the city to the palace, the residents came out, lining the streets. Many seemed tense, displaying more emotion than anyone had when we’d come the first time, when they’d had no reason to believe we wouldn’t be charging into every building and slaughtering everyone we found.
Sometimes I really didn’t understand people.
Would they interfere if Aryne lost and we had to get her out?
Would they interfere with her if she won?
I wished I could do this for Aryne. I lacked the knowledge, the skill, the endurance she had, but I just felt like I should be doing it for her. She was too young to carry such expectations.
Aryne looked composed, but she’d spent most of her life having to convince people she wasn’t afraid of anything. Druce, beside her, was wide-eyed with apprehension. Finally. Someone normal.
She was keeping herself under control, though, and that was all that mattered.
There were four Imperial Guards waiting for us at the palace entrance. “Only four can enter with the contender,” the oldest of them announced.
“That wasn’t the agreement,” said Sato.
“There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Unless you plan on attacking us right here, you can’t stop us.”
There were far more of us. We could easily kill them if we didn’t like the way they looked at us. We just strode in, Aryne, Druce, the Premier Pair, the Commissioner, Browne, Murdoch, Taro and me, and twenty of our soldiers.
The Guards scrambled to get ahead of us, but put forward no further resistance.
It was my first opportunity to see the damage done to the interior of the palace. The floor and the walls were cracked and buckled, and panes had fallen from many of the windows.
Still, many in our number commented on the luxury of the furnishings and art. I’d forgotten that the average person never saw the inside of the palace. Or even the outside. Most people couldn’t afford to even visit Erstwhile.
We were taken to the court room, where nearly every spectator seat was filled. Some of the spectators were familiar to me, and a few nodded to me when our eyes met, in sharp contrast to the behaviour they had demonstrated the last time Taro and I were in Erstwhile. Why the difference?
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