Beggar's Rebellion: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Empire of Resonance Book 1)

by L. W. Jacobs

  The councilors put their heads together a moment. “Agreed, Ms. Aygla. All contracts will be dissolved, and renewal of work pending to instating new contracts.”

  Excellent. “I thank you, councilors.” Arbitration was called then, the next suit to begin at twelfth bell, and Ella filed out with the audience members, a few of whom congratulated her on a suit well fought.

  The flow of people took her past Odril, who clutched something on a chain around his neck.

  Ella tensed for an attack, fearing it was a knife, then saw it was an iron pendant—a circle pierced with spears.

  Like the symbol she’d seen in Sablo’s book.

  “This isn’t over, sow,” he snarled at her. “Far from it. I have bigger friends than this. You’ll see.”

  In her confusion, the flow of people carried Ella past. Were Sablo and Odril connected somehow? Was that why Sablo had testified—from some secret loyalty?

  What was the significance of a circle pierced with nine spears?

  32

  And of this bitter solitude

  The Gods thought quick to make an end,

  And built us brethren aboard the moon,

  Their fires constellating the dark orb.

  But ah the bitter jest of gods—

  If gods there be to laugh at us—

  That they are bound in heav’nly orbit

  And we stuck fast to dirt and rock,

  Gazing nightly in melancholic awe,

  Never the twain to meet.

  —LeTwi, Reflections

  Tai woke to music. It was soft, bittersweet and lilting, repeating each time with changes. There was a red glow in the air, the smell of sage. He tried to sit up, gasped.

  The music stopped. “Tai?”

  He knew that voice. “Lumo?”

  A red-bearded face appeared above his, pipe still clamped between wide teeth. “You are awake. That is good. How do you feel?” The green eyes searched his, pressed delicately at his neck.

  It came back then—the strike on the camp, Tulric, their fight. “You’re okay. Did we win?”

  “I am okay. We escaped when you fell. Drink this.”

  Tai tried to shake his head but the bandages were too thick, and strong hands held him steady. Something sweet poured down his throat, forcing him to swallow. “But the prisoners. The rebellion—”

  Lumo shook his head. “They will wait, my friend. Sleep.”

  He woke again to lamplight, Aelya sitting in her furs on a ledge in the small space. She was gnawing on a plug of dreamleaf.

  He smiled. “Aelya. Prophets, it’s good to see you.” It came out as a croak.

  Aelya jumped. “It’s good to see you, Tai. Mecking idiot for letting Tulric stab you.”

  Tai shrugged, wincing at the motion. “I got mad.”

  She laughed. “And you get stupid when you get mad. Like that time with Yolen?”

  Tai grinned. “It was her fault, trying to sell us wormy barley.” He shook his head, thick with bandages. “Is everyone all right? Did we get the people out?”

  She spat dreamleaf. “Took too long. By the time the Coldferth people realized Tulric was dead, the Titans had the fire under control, and sent more people over. We had to run.”

  “So, he is dead?”

  Aelya snorted. “Hard to be much deader than that. I think he bounced five times before he stopped.”

  Lumo stooped through the opening, chamber hardly large enough for the three of them. “Tai! Do not move your head, my friend.”

  “Too late,” Tai said. “But it seems to be okay.”

  “That is because the Maimer did not pull the knife from your neck.” He pulled out his pipe, began packing sage into it. “If he had…”

  “It was bad enough watching you fall,” Aelya said. “Your blood got on half the prison camp, I think.”

  Tai grimaced. “Did someone catch me?”

  “No, it was weird.” Aelya shook her head. “You stopped yourself, just barely, and then when you landed, you were out.”

  Tai tried to nod, grimaced again. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  Aelya grinned. “Long enough for me to burn two Coldferth ships and steal enough yura to make myself a very rich woman. Three days, maybe? Or four?”

  Lumo plucked a coal from his tin and dropped it onto his sage. “Four days.” He drew on it, sage crackling, then returned the coal to its tin. “I kept you out to make sure your flesh was knitting.”

  “Thank you,” Tai said, reaching up to feel his neck. Suddenly, he felt weak, dizzy.

  “Rest,” Lumo said, pushing him back with a finger. “You need food.” He turned and left the room.

  When his head stopped spinning, Tai looked to Aelya. “Thought you were supposed to be the one laying here, and me telling you about the rebellion.”

  She grinned and pulled up her shirt. “This old thing? Just a badass scar now.”

  Tai huffed a laugh, still feeling weak. “Kids doing okay?”

  “Better than ever. Curly’s new thing is to try and yuraload. I told him no way in hell, but he insisted on watching while I did it.”

  Fear hit him like a second knife. “You yuraloaded?”

  Aelya grinned, air suddenly crackling with brawler buzz. “Mecking right, I did. This is awesome. Though the actual loading was no fun.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m just glad you didn’t end up screaming nonsense. Don’t know what I’d do if I woke up and you weren’t here.”

  She smiled and took his hand. Lumo came back with Karhail and a bowl of soup. “Tai,” the Seinjialese man said, a new bandage across his temples. “Not ready to give up the fight?”

  Tai huffed. “Nope. Though I can’t really sit up at the moment.”

  “You just need food,” Lumo said, squatting next to him and helping him up.

  “That was a stupid strike, Tai,” Karhail said. “You could easily have gotten killed, and some of our best fighters too.”

  Tai pursed his lips. “Well, I killed one person who needed to die. And we have to break the Achuri out of there sooner or later.”

  Karhail nodded. “We’ll hit it soon. The Councilate doubled guard after your strike.”

  “I’m not surprised. Those people are angry, Karhail. They’re the real rebellion.”

  Karhail flexed his neck. “Good. We’re going to need them. We got word from Port Gendrys this morning. The army is coming up the river. A whole legion.”

  “Gendrys?” Tai spluttered, spoon to his lips. “That’s four days away!”

  The warrior nodded, grim. “Minus two days for word to travel. We’ve got work to do.”

  33

  The formation and purpose of the waystones is still a mystery. Though local myths of the Prophet himself erecting them are likely false, still, one cannot deny a certain power when standing next to the upright stones.

  —Markels, Travels Among the Yati

  Tai wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Was it really this far?”

  Aelya looked back, a few paces up the beaten track. “Seriously? This is easier than climbing the bluffs.”

  “Hey,” Tai panted, breeze carrying the smell of smoke through the trees. “You try sleeping an eighthmoon under dreamleaf, see you how you feel.”

  “I did that.” She waved at her wounded hip. “Remember?”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Aelya laughed. “Don’t go getting all guilty on me. It’s not your fault Tulric’s a meckring.” She grinned. “Was. How’s your neck, anyway?”

  “It’s better.” Tai felt the bandages there, thinner now. “Lumo says I should be fine in a couple of days.”

  “Plus a shattermecking scar.”

  They came over the ridge, and Tai goggled. “Ancestors.”

  The hideout had grown to the edge of the forest, rows of longhouses supplemented with lean-tos and fur tents, wooden palisade now surrounding the training grounds. People swarmed everywhere, and a dozen fires blazed under cookpots and forge fires and whole elk turning on spits. The
air was a mix of shouts and cries and the chorused yells of a squad of brawlers drilling inside the open gates of the palisade. “It’s like another city.”

  “Yeah,” Aelya said. “And this one is Councilate-free.”

  Tai shook his head. It was three times what he remembered it. In five days? The breeze brought a wave of burning cedar, roasting elk, sweat and latrine reek, like the streets of Riverbottom at the height of Tarynsfair. It was overwhelming.

  She eyed him. “You’re wondering about Fisher, right?”

  “What? Yeah, I guess.” Tai marveled to realize he actually wasn’t, hadn’t thought of her much separately from the other kids since waking up yesterday. “About all of them.”

  Soon as I’m gone, you forget all about her, huh?

  You are gone, he thought back. Hake is, anyway. And whatever you are, you should be too. Still, he felt a pang of guilt.

  “They’re good,” Aelya was saying. “Though Fishy still ain’t talking too much.”

  He nodded. “As long as she’s okay. I’m just glad to have you and the rest of the gang.”

  The voice said nothing, but Tai could feel its blame. He rolled his shoulders.

  Aelya pulled him past a tent packed with sacks of grain, a roaring forge fire tended by two wounded boys, and a carpenter and assistant trying to fix a cartwheel before coming to the central pond. Ten or twelve people wafted over it, bows in hand.

  “Up!” Beal yelled, wafting himself. The wafters bounced up, some far too high. “Back!” They followed. “North, south, down, land, up, nock, shoot!”

  The wafters, holding something like a line, released arrows at a pockmarked tree, most arrows finding a home in the dirt.

  “No, no!” Beal scowled, glancing at Tai. “Keep ’em higher; focus on the target.”

  Tai cleared his throat. “And think about pushing two directions at once. If you bounce too high when you push up, push down a little too. That helps me, at least.”

  The wafters nodded, a few of them trying it, while Beal’s scowl deepened. “Up!” he shouted, looking away. “Up, you dogs!”

  Behind them, brawlers swung swords and axes in time to a rhythmic shout, Theron leading them, burned face healing into scars. In a separate area, Weiland slipped in and out of speed as a group of timeslips sparred each other at double speed. Tai turned to Aelya. “Has no one noticed the place?”

  She smirked. “They’ve attacked, actually, a couple of times. First time, we think it was one of the Houses, paying some mercenaries. Second time, it was definitely the lawkeepers.”

  “And?”

  She grinned. “And we shattered ’em. Karhail says we probably have more recruits than all the mercenaries and soldiers in Ayugen put together. And with yuraloading, we’ve got twice the power.”

  Tai shook his head, looking around. “All this in an eighthmoon?”

  “People can see we’re winning, so they’re joining.”

  “Are we?”

  Aelya shrugged. “If you call burning half of Newgen, destroying House Coldferth, and sinking most of the ships at the docks winning.”

  “We destroyed Coldferth?”

  “We burned their manse, right?” Aelya started ticking points off on her fingers. “Before I got better, you burned their dockhouse, too. We sunk the ships they had in port. And two days ago, we stormed the mine entrance, burnt it to the ground, and opened up the gates. Ghosts have been coming out ever since, real ghosts, like that guy.” She pointed at a pale man holding a long-bladed spear.

  Tai twisted his back. “So, what’s next?”

  “That’s actually why Karhail sent me. There’s a strategy meeting today, and he wants you there. He should be in the fort—I’ve got to get the other guys together.”

  He found Karhail under a large burlap canopy inside the high wood walls. The big Seinjialese was bent over a table with Theron and Lumo, talking over a map of Ayugen. He straightened on seeing Tai.

  “Tai,” he said, readjusting his sword belt. “Welcome back.”

  His tone wasn’t exactly warm. “Thanks. You’ve been busy.”

  “It’s only a matter of time now, Tai. The people are coming to us.” His eyes shone.

  “With a little help from yours truly,” Ilrick put in.

  “Will it be enough?”

  “To stop a whole legion?” Karhail flexed his neck. “I don’t think so. Not yet. We need more training—you’ve seen the recruits.”

  Tai nodded. A scream sounded somewhere—yuraloads. He had intentionally avoided looking at the graves, to count how many were new. “Are we still forcing recruits to yuraload?”

  “We have to,” Karhail grunted. Theron and Eyna looked displeased at this, but Aelya arrived with Weiland and Beal, cutting off any discussion. “Aelya. Watch the perimeter; make sure no one comes within earshot.”

  Tai watched her go. “I’ve known her for years, Karhail. She’s trustworthy.”

  The Seinjialese flexed his neck. “Too many new faces around here to let them in on something like this.”

  “What he means,” Ilrick drawled, “is someone tried to off him last night.”

  “What?”

  “I killed him.” Karhail turned. “Now, the way I see it, we have two options. One, we keep going with the war we’ve been fighting, hitting the Houses until they’ve got nothing left to protect in Ayugen. Coldferth is already basically done, Theron liberated Alsthen’s mine complex last night”—Theron grunted at this—“and the other Houses wouldn’t take much, with their ships gone and dockhouses burned.”

  “The army will want us anyway,” Beal said, popping his fingers. “Doesn’t matter how weakened the Houses are. If there are any of them left, they’ll be clamoring for revenge.”

  “And we can’t stand against the army,” Lumo rumbled, looking at the large rock placed on the map to represent the Councilate force partway up the Genga.

  “That’s not certain,” Theron said. “We—”

  “It’s certain,” Karhail interrupted. “It would be three, maybe four hundred decently trained troops against two thousand disciplined soldiers, maybe even a squad of Titans.”

  “But the power we have!” Theron shook his head. “Titans aside, the rest will be relying on yura. Our soldiers have deeper resonances, and they can use their abilities all day, if they keep their uai up.”

  “The numbers would win, Theron. Granferth’s Law.”

  “So, we retreat,” Lumo rumbled. “We go back to the hills, maybe we even go to the ice sheet or toward the mountains. We train our people, come back when we are ready to face them.”

  “And the army has a stranglehold on the city and the mines.” Karhail shook his head. “We’d lose all we’ve gained.”

  “And have no way to feed our people meanwhile,” Beal put in.

  “Option number two,” Karhail said. “We sack Newgen.”

  “What?” several people cried at once. “That’s insane!”

  “Too risky,” Lumo rumbled.

  “Think about it,” Karhail overrode them. “It’s the most defensible place in the city, and it’s well stocked with goods. A group our size could hold it for weeks, months, while we train up to defeating the army.”

  “It’s the most defensible place,” Tai agreed, “but they hold it, not us. There’s no way.”

  “Most defensible place,” Karhail grinned, “but not well defended. You’ve been out a while, Tai—the Councilate’s low on fighters. We’ve killed plenty, the Houses are hiring mercs away from the government, and your strike on the prison camp has them focusing fighters there. Lawkeepers are few, and probably pulling double watches as it is. We’re well rested and run without yura. So, we overwhelm them, run the whitecoats out, and take Newgen for our own.”

  “But then we’re stuck in a siege,” Weiland said. “What do we do when the Councilate sends another legion? A platoon of Titans? We can’t handle that many.”

  “That’s why we meet them at the docks and crush them!” Theron slammed a fist
on the table. “Send a message to Worldsmouth that they’re not wanted, that we’ll push back anything they send, and they leave us alone.”

  Karhail scowled. “You crush a battalion with seven hundred fighters? Schustel’s Law, Theron. It doesn’t add up.”

  “Schustel’s Law?” Tai asked.

  Theron grimaced. “Low ground takes high with twice the numbers. They taught us it in Teyensfelen.”

  “Teyensfelen?” Tai asked, eyes widening. “The Titan citadel? You—”

  “We’re Titans,” Theron said. “Were, at least.”

  “We’re nothing,” Karhail growled. “Deserters. Washouts. We’re not Titans, and we won’t beat them without more trained soldiers, no matter what the ground.”

  Prophet’s piece—Titans were the Councilate’s most elite soldiers. Training from youth in the high mountains above Seinjial. No wonder Karhail and Theron knew so much of military tactics. No wonder they held such a grudge against the capital.

  There was a silence then, sage crackling in Lumo’s pipe, shouts of new recruits in the distance. It made sense now that the two thought only of killing. Taking Newgen seemed like a good idea, but they would want to kill everyone inside, secure the perimeter. Just like the Councilate would. But the people weren’t the problem—it was the ideas, to use Ella’s words. They needed a different idea. A better idea.

  Something came to him. “Maybe there’s another way.”

  Karhail’s eyes flicked over. “What?”

  “We take Newgen, but we don’t hold a siege in it. We hold it hostage.”

  “What do you mean?” Beal narrowed his eyes.

  “I mean our strategy this whole time has been to make it too expensive for the Houses to continue. It’s how life works on the streets, too. You want someone out, you make it too risky for them to stay.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So, we don’t run the Councilates out. We keep them in.”

  “And we hold them hostage to the army,” Theron breathed. “A whole city.”

  Tai grinned. “Most of the major Houses are represented in Ayugen—that means every one of those families has at least a person or two on the ground. In Newgen now, because no place else is safe. If we can take the walls fast enough—”