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The Trouble with Peace

Page 61

by Joe Abercrombie


  “Who are these?” muttered Vick. Some private militia, hired to keep the peace with the king’s soldiers gone? But something didn’t fit. Rough-looking men, all standing their own way. Clean armour, maybe, but unshaven faces.

  Pike didn’t look concerned. You might almost have called him jaunty as he led them across the empty square at a trot, past the vacant pedestals of statues torn down during the uprising to the bank’s front steps. That double row of armed men parted and two figures came from the midst. Two awfully familiar figures. One was a fat man in a well-cut suit, the other a tall, lean woman in a dress stitched from many-coloured rags, a rust-eaten breastplate over the top, her red hair pinned into a bonfire tangle.

  “Fuck,” breathed Vick. Not often she was at a loss for words, but right then she had nothing better.

  “Victarine dan Teufel!” called Risinau, the light of pious belief burning as brightly in his eyes as ever.

  “Unless I’m much mistook,” sneered Judge, the light of angry madness burning even brighter in hers, “which I’m not often.”

  First thing Vick thought was that they’d fallen into a trap. Then Pike spread his arms wide. “My friends!” he called as he swung down from his saddle to meet them. “My children!” And he kissed Risinau on the forehead, and did the same to Judge, all smiling as if this was a family reunion long put off, while the armed men thumped the butts of their halberds against the steps and sent up an approving rattle.

  Like every puzzle, once Vick knew the answer, she couldn’t understand how she hadn’t seen it right away. She was the one who’d fallen into the trap. She alone.

  “You’re the Weaver,” she said.

  “A name I have used, at times.” Pike gestured to the soot-stained old buildings around the square, the new chimneys looming beyond their roofs. “So much has changed since I was the Superior here. The rich have grown ever richer, but the poor… well. You have seen it. You have lived it. If the heart of a nation is revealed in its prisons, then you and I have seen the heart of the Union, and we know that it is rotten. I knew when I was in the camps, that rot had to be burned away. But it was not until I came to Valbeck that I began to dream…” And he closed his eyes, and took a long breath through his nose. “That I would be the one to do it.”

  Judge snatched a lit torch from one of the guards, its flames dancing in the corners of her black eyes. “Can we begin?”

  “I do not say we can.” Pike leaned towards her. “I say we must.”

  “Ha!” Judge gave a delighted giggle as she danced up the steps towards the bank’s open doors.

  “You must have had a long ride, Sister Victarine.” Risinau placed his soft hand on her knee. “Perhaps you should dismount?”

  Vick glanced carefully around, more habit than anything else, but she wouldn’t get out of this by some mad dash on horseback. She swung her leg over the saddle and stepped down to the square.

  “I called the like-minded people I gathered the Breakers,” said Pike, watching Judge set her torch to oil-soaked wood at the bank’s doors. “Not because we would break machines, though we have, but because we would break the Union. Break it, and rebuild it in a new way. A better way.” Pike watched the flames lick at Valint and Balk’s fine new stonework and the armed Breakers gathered in the square gave a great cheer. “The banks have twisted about the nation like ivy about a tree, choking all life from it, corrupting everything. So it is fitting that the destruction begins with this monument to exploitation. But it will not stop there.” He turned towards Vick. “The uprising the Closed Council so feared… has already happened.”

  “Three days ago,” said Risinau, rubbing his hands delightedly, “while King Orso was winning his great victory against the rebels. They wanted us to distract the king’s men for them. Instead, they distracted the king’s men for us!”

  “And not just here in Valbeck,” said Pike. “By now, Keln and Holsthorm and many of the smaller cities of the Union will be in the hands of the Breakers, too.”

  “In the hands of their people!” frothed Risinau, wagging a fat finger. “And Adua will be next. Our day is finally come!” And the men cheered louder than ever.

  Vick had smugly thought she knew how things really were. Simple as that, everything was turned upside down. “What the hell do you want from me?” she asked.

  “You served Glokta faithfully,” said Pike. “Admirably, even. Because he was the one man who ever gave you anything. Even if it was only the chance to wear the boot, rather than having it ground into your face.” He did understand her, damn it. Maybe not better than she understood herself, but well enough. “I would like to offer you something more.”

  The silence stretched out, broken by the laughter and whoops of the armed Breakers, the crackle of flames, the tinkle of shattering glass.

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” said Vick. Seemed to her she’d get nothing with meekness. She never had before. “What are you offering?”

  “Join us,” said Pike. “Become a Breaker. Give the Union back to its people and shape the future. Commit yourself to a cause worthy of your loyalty.”

  “I gave up on causes when I left the camps.”

  “All the better.” Pike glanced at Judge, who was tossing her torch through the bank’s doors and backing down the steps, a thin, black figure against the rising flames with her fists thrust up in triumph. “A movement needs passionate believers. But it needs calculating sceptics, too.”

  Vick glanced across the smiles of the armoured men on the steps, lit by the flickering fires above. No shortage of belief there. “And my other option?”

  “Leave. Go back to King Orso. Serve his corrupt regime in its dying days. Or run to distant Thond, for that matter, where they worship the sun. Go with our blessing.”

  Vick thought of the long line of hanged men Pike had left outside the city, a few months before. She’d thought him ruthless then. Now it turned out they’d been his own people. A man who’ll waste no time hanging two hundred of his friends… what might he do to his enemies? Smoke was already pouring from the windows of the bank, giving every breath the familiar char and fury stink of Valbeck she so well remembered.

  Maybe he was telling the truth, and if she chose to stick with Orso they’d let her swan out of the city and off on her merry way. But she wasn’t about to bet her life on it.

  If she’d learned one thing in the camps, it’s that you stand with the winners.

  “I’m with you,” she said, simply. Why say any more?

  Pike held out one burned hand towards her while behind him the Valbeck branch of Valint and Balk went up in towering flames for a second time. “Then come, Sister Teufel! There is much to be done if we are to give the people what they need.”

  “Which is?”

  “Change.” Pike put that hand on her shoulder and guided her away across the square. “A Great Change.”

  Acknowledgments

  As always, four people without whom:

  Bren Abercrombie, whose eyes are sore from reading it.

  Nick Abercrombie, whose ears are sore from hearing about it.

  Rob Abercrombie, whose fingers are sore from turning the pages.

  Lou Abercrombie, whose arms are sore from holding me up.

  Then, my heartfelt thanks:

  To all the lovely and talented people in British publishing who have helped bring the First Law books to readers down the years, including but by no means limited to Simon Spanton, Jon Weir, Jen McMenemy, Mark Stay, Jon Wood, Malcolm Edwards, David Shelley, Katie Espiner and Sarah Benton. Then, of course, all those who’ve helped make, publish, publicise, translate and above all sell my books wherever they may be around the world.

  To the artists responsible for somehow continuing to make me look classy: Didier Graffet, Dave Senior, Laura Brett, Lauren Panepinto, Raymond Swanland, Tomás Almeida, Sam Weber.

  To editors across the Pond: Lou Anders, Devi Pillai, Bradley Englert, Bill Schafer.

  To champions in the Circle: Tim and
Jen Miller.

  To the man with a thousand voices: Steven Pacey.

  For keeping the wolf on the right side of the door: Robert Kirby.

  To all the writers whose paths have crossed mine on the Internet, at the bar or in the writers’ room, and who’ve provided help, support, laughs and plenty of ideas worth the stealing. You know who you are.

  And lastly, yet firstly:

  The great machinist, Gillian Redfearn. Because every Jezal knows, deep down, he ain’t shit without Bayaz.

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  The Big People

  Notable Persons of the Union

  His August Majesty King Orso the First—unwilling High King of the Union, a notorious wastrel while crown prince.

  Her August Majesty Queen Terez—Queen Dowager and mother of the King of the Union.

  Hildi—the king’s valet and errand-girl, previously a brothel laundress.

  Tunny—once Corporal Tunny, pimp and carousing partner to Orso while he was still crown prince.

  Yolk—Corporal Tunny’s idiot sidekick.

  Bremer dan Gorst—a squeaky-voiced master swordsman who was First Guard to King Jezal, and now to King Orso.

  Arch Lector Sand dan Glokta—“Old Sticks,” the most feared man in the Union, Head of the Closed Council and His Majesty’s Inquisition.

  Superior Pike—Arch Lector Glokta’s right-hand man, with a hideously burned visage.

  Lord Chamberlain Hoff—self-important chief courtier, son of the previous Lord Hoff.

  Lord Chancellor Gorodets—long-suffering holder of the Union’s purse-strings.

  High Justice Bruckel—woodpecker-like chief law lord of the Union.

  High Consul Matstringer—overwrought supervisor of the Union’s foreign policy.

  Lord Marshal Brint—senior soldier and one-armed old friend of Orso’s father.

  Lord Marshal Rucksted—senior soldier with a penchant for beards and tall tales, married to Tilde dan Rucksted.

  Colonel Forest—a hard-working officer with common origins and impressive scars, commanded the Crown Prince’s Division for Orso.

  Lord Isher—a smooth and successful magnate of the Open Council.

  Lady Isold dan Kaspa—an insipid young heiress, engaged to be married to Lord Isher.

  Lord Barezin—a buffoonish magnate of the Open Council.

  Lord Heugen—a pedantic magnate of the Open Council.

  Lord Wetterlant—a handsome magnate of the Open Council with something missing around his eyes.

  Lady Wetterlant—Lord Wetterlant’s feared battleaxe of a mother.

  Lord Steebling—minor nobility, gouty and bad-tempered.

  In the Circle of Savine dan Glokta

  Savine dan Glokta—daughter of Arch Lector Sand dan Glokta and Ardee dan Glokta, investor, socialite, celebrated beauty and founder of the Solar Society with Honrig Curnsbick.

  Zuri—Savine’s peerless lady’s companion, a Southern refugee.

  Freid—one of Savine’s many wardrobe maids.

  Metello—Savine’s hatchet-faced Styrian wig expert.

  Ardee dan Glokta—Savine’s famously sharp-tongued mother.

  Haroon—Zuri’s heavily built brother.

  Rabik—Zuri’s slight and handsome brother.

  Gunnar “Bull” Broad—an ex-Ladderman wrestling with violent tendencies, once a Breaker, now handling “labour relations” for Savine.

  Liddy Broad—Gunnar Broad’s long-suffering wife, mother to May Broad.

  May Broad—Gunnar and Liddy Broad’s hard-headed daughter.

  Bannerman—a cocky ex-soldier, working with Broad.

  Halder—a taciturn ex-soldier, working with Broad.

  Honrig Curnsbick—“The Great Machinist,” famous inventor and industrialist, and founder of the Solar Society with Savine dan Glokta.

  Dietam dan Kort—a noted engineer and bridge-builder, partner with Savine in a canal.

  Selest dan Heugen—a bitter rival of Savine’s.

  Kaspar dan Arinhorm—an abrasive expert in pumping water from mines.

  Tilde dan Rucksted—the blabbermouth wife of Lord Marshal Rucksted.

  Spillion Sworbreck—a writer of cheap fantasies and scurrilous pamphlets.

  Carmee Groom—a talented artist.

  In Westport and Sipani, Cities of Styria

  Victarine (Vick) dan Teufel—an ex-convict, daughter of a disgraced Master of the Mints, now an Inquisitor working as a spy for the Arch Lector.

  Tallow—a skinny young Breaker, blackmailed into assisting Vick.

  King Jappo mon Rogont Murcatto—King of Styria.

  Grand Duchess Monzcarro Murcatto—“The Serpent of Talins,” mother of King Jappo, a feared general and ruthless politician, responsible for the unification of Styria.

  Shylo Vitari—the Minister of Whispers, once a colleague of Sand dan Glokta, now spymaster to the Serpent of Talins.

  Casamir dan Shenkt—an infamous assassin, rumoured to possess sorcerous powers.

  Princess Carlot—sweet-tempered sister of King Orso, wife of Chancellor Sotorius.

  Chancellor Sotorius—current ruler of Sipani.

  Countess Shalere—the exiled childhood friend (and some say more) of Queen Terez.

  Superior Lorsen—colourless Superior of the Inquisition in Westport.

  Filio—a senior Alderman of Westport and fencing enthusiast.

  Sanders Rosimiche—a junior Alderman of Westport and strutting loudmouth.

  Dayep Mozolia—a merchant in fabrics, influential in the politics of Westport.

  With the Breakers and Burners

  Risinau—once Superior of Valbeck, behind the violent uprising in that city, revealed to be a leader of the Breakers.

  Judge—an unhinged mass-murderer or fearless champion of the common folk, depending on who you ask, the leader of the Burners.

  Sarlby—an old comrade-in-arms of Gunnar Broad, now become a Burner.

  In the North

  Stour Nightfall—“The Great Wolf,” King of the Northmen, a famed warrior and arsehole.

  Black Calder—once the true power in the North, cunning father of Stour Nightfall.

  Greenway—one of Stour Nightfall’s Named Men, expert sneerer.

  Dancer—one of Stour Nightfall’s Named Men, nimble on his feet.

  Brodd Silent—one of Black Calder’s Named Men. Presumably a man of few words.

  Jonas Clover—once Jonas Steepfield and reckoned a famous warrior, now renowned as a disloyal do-nothing.

  Downside—one of Clover’s warriors, with a bad habit of killing men on his own side.

  Sholla—Clover’s scout, a woman who can slice cheese very fine.

  Flick—an apparently useless lad among Clover’s men.

  Gregun Hollowhead—a Chieftain of the West Valleys, father of the Nail.

  The Nail—Gregun Hollowhead’s son, a feared and famous warrior.

  In the Protectorate

  The Dogman—Chieftain of Uffrith and famous War Leader, father of Rikke.

  Rikke—the Dogman’s fit-prone daughter, blessed, or cursed, with the Long Eye. Rhymes with pricker.

  Isern-i-Phail—a half-mad hillwoman, said to know all the ways.

  Scenn-i-Phail—one of Isern’s many brothers, scarcely saner than she is.

  Caul Shivers—a much-feared Named Man with a metal eye.

  Red Hat—one of the Dogman’s War Chiefs, known for his red hood.

  Oxel—one of the Dogman’s War Chiefs, known for his poor manners.

  Hardbread—one of the Dogman’s War Chiefs, known for his indecision.

  Corleth—a girl with stout hips, keen to fight for Rikke.

  From Angland

  Leo dan Brock—“The Young Lion,” Lord Governor of Angland, a hotheaded warrior and famous hero, victor in a duel against Stour Nightfall.

  Finree dan Brock—Leo dan Brock’s mot
her and a superb tactician and organiser.

  Jurand—Leo dan Brock’s best friend, sensitive and calculating.

  Glaward—Leo dan Brock’s exceptionally large friend.

  Antaup—Leo dan Brock’s friend, renowned as a lady’s man.

  Whitewater Jin—Leo dan Brock’s friend, a jovial Northman.

  Lord Mustred—an old worthy of Angland, with a beard but no moustache.

  Lord Clensher—an old worthy of Angland, with a moustache but no beard.

  The Order of Magi

  Bayaz—First of the Magi, legendary wizard, saviour of the Union and founding member of the Closed Council.

  Yoru Sulfur—former apprentice to Bayaz, nondescript but for his different-coloured eyes.

  The Prophet Khalul—former Second of the Magi, now arch-enemy of Bayaz. Rumoured to have been killed by a demon, plunging the South into chaos.

  Cawneil—Third of the Magi, about her own inscrutable business.

  Zacharus—Fourth of the Magi, guiding the affairs of the Old Empire.

  By Joe Abercrombie

  THE AGE OF MADNESS

  A Little Hatred

  The Trouble with Peace

  THE FIRST LAW TRILOGY

  The Blade Itself

  Before They Are Hanged

  Last Argument of Kings

  Best Served Cold

  The Heroes

  Red Country

  Sharp Ends: Stories from the World of the First Law

 

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