Blood of Empire

Chapter 43

Michel finished his morning’s work and retired to a small, dark pub not far from Mama Palo’s headquarters, where he ordered a drink and kicked his feet up onto the chair opposite. He’d worked nonstop for almost thirty hours, but for the first time in weeks he felt like he was getting somewhere; Survivor and his young wards were now the talk of the Palo slums, telling their stories of horror to anyone who would listen.

And, it seemed, everyone wanted to listen. Grumbling spread as fast as word of mouth. Thousands of Palo had already begun to abandon the military training camps outside the city. Hundreds of laborers had quit their jobs in protest. Community leaders were demanding answers about this citadel-under-construction and the godstone within it.

Michel and Mama Palo’s people worked tirelessly behind the scenes to stoke the fire. They produced propaganda, took meetings with community leaders, and whispered in all the right ears.

The Dynize, for their part, barely seemed to have noticed anything was wrong. The stories had been circulating for less than two days. Michel wondered how long the Dynize would remain in ignorance – and then how long after that until they responded. The response, he knew, could come in many different forms: violence, denials, cover-ups, or combinations thereof. He and Jiniel were working on contingency plans for whatever the Dynize decided to do. He hoped it was enough.

He had to believe it would be enough.

“Have you seen this?”

He jumped as a newspaper was thrown down on the table in front of him and realized that he’d been half asleep in his chair. Ichtracia sat down across from him, taking the beer that he hadn’t even noticed had been delivered, and draining half of it. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, turning the newspaper so that it faced him. Before he’d had a chance to read more than the main headline, Ichtracia snatched it back and began to read. Her eyes moved furiously across the lines for several moments.

“Are you going to let me see it?” Michel finally asked.

She handed the newspaper back and turned away. Michel watched the side of her face for a few moments. Her jaw was clenched and a vein stood out above her cheek. Something had clearly set her on edge. Was it the newspaper article?

“Your fomentation is working,” she said. “The Palo are going nuts.”

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

“It’s working too well, I think.” Ichtracia tapped the newspaper. “A Palo woman was caught defacing the capital building. She wrote We will never be slaves again in horse blood in very large letters.”

Michel skimmed over the details of the article. He wondered if it was one of Jiniel’s operatives or just someone inflamed by all these rumors. Either way, the culprit had been thrown into prison. The newspaper claimed that she was a madwoman and would be dealt with leniently, but that the Dynize city guard would be more active the next couple of weeks. He pushed the newspaper away and looked up at Ichtracia again. She fidgeted, not meeting his eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“It’s barely been any time at all. I’ve been reading the reports going across Jiniel’s desk. These stories have been circulating for, what, a day and a half at best? And people are already defacing buildings and throwing rocks. I heard there’s supposed to be a march across Upper Landfall in just a couple hours.”

Michel ran his tongue along his teeth. That was new, and not one of his plans. Jiniel might have organized it. “The stories are true. In the right political atmosphere, truth has wings.”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re true or not. What shocks me is that people are eating it up so quickly. I know you’re good at what you do, Michel, but you’re not that good.”

Michel stifled a smile. “Your point?”

“Then, what is it? The Palo were singing Dynize praises just a few days ago, and now they’re on the edge of rioting.”

Michel considered the question for a few moments. “You have to understand our people. We’ve been put down and kicked around for so long that we were desperate for relief – any relief. Lindet and her Blackhats had us terrified into inaction, and for good reason. She was brutal. So when the Dynize came along and treated us so well, we took it without asking too many questions. What’s that old saying? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“It’s ‘Don’t look at a gift goat’s hooves’ in Dynize,” Ichtracia replied. “I get your meaning. But you haven’t answered my question.”

Michel tapped the side of his head. “We didn’t turn our noses up at a gift. But we’ve also been burned before – dozens of times in living memory. Everyone you see around us here in the Depths, we all loved the Dynize treatment. But we were all thinking the same thing: Everyone else has betrayed us. When will the Dynize? We Palo were all just waiting for the Dynize to show their true colors. And now that they have, we’re pissed about it.”

“As simple as that?”

“As simple as that,” Michel confirmed. “That anger is exactly what we’re trying to stoke.”

“Like I said. I think it’s working too well.”

Michel pursed his lips. “Why?”

Ichtracia shifted uncertainly. “It’s changing so fast. I’m worried what Sedial will do when he finally grasps the situation. He can be a subtle man, but not when he’s taken by surprise.”

“Honestly, I’m worried about that myself.” Michel drank the rest of his beer and pushed it to the edge of the table. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

There was a long, worrying pause. “No.”

“Then…?”

Ichtracia took a deep breath and retrieved something from the inner pocket of her vest, laying it on the table in front of Michel. It was the stack of envelopes she’d claimed from those reports stolen from the dragonman’s home.

“You broke the wards already?” Michel asked in surprise.

“Sedial thinks his favorite Privileged are the best at everything. They’re not great at wards.”

“You’re better?”

“Enough to only need a day to pick through them. Once I unwrapped one, the rest were easy.” Ichtracia smiled, but it came across as pained. “You going to look at them?”

Michel kept his eyes on her as he picked up the top envelope and flipped it open, finally looking down. The lettering was neat, and he knew enough about Dynize to recognize the tone as formal. He read through it slowly, translating the words as he went, his hackles rising with each new line. It said:

Michel inhaled sharply and read it again. “Did I translate this right?”

“It’s a purge order targeting Yaret and his Household.”

“I did, then.” He set the envelope down. “Why Yaret?” was the first thing he managed to say. “Was it because of me?”

“You?” It seemed to take Ichtracia a moment to realize that Michel was blaming the purge order on his infiltration of the Yaret Household. “Oh, no. Not at all. Sedial and Yaret have always hated each other. Look at the date on the top right-hand corner. This was written before the invasion fleet left Dynize, and it’s signed by the emperor. Besides, look at the rest of the envelopes.”

Michel began to pick them up, one at a time, reading through them quickly. Each one was a copy of the former – only the names were changed to target a different Household. When he realized that they were all identical, he stopped bothering to read and instead just counted the pile. There were twenty-three in total. Everything clicked. “These are all of Sedial’s Dynize enemies, aren’t they?”

Ichtracia gave him a small nod. “The ones in Landfall, yes. It’s thorough, too. Anyone who has stood up to him in any major capacity over the last decade has been targeted. There are a few names missing, but I’m not sure if that means he’s decided to spare those Households or if he’s just handed the purge orders to a different lieutenant. My guess is the latter.”

Michel swore and checked the execution date again. Just nine days away. He took several deep breaths, forcing aside his sudden worry, trying to detach himself from the situation. He needed to think about this rationally. He could use this – the Palo cause could use this. If there was to be a purge, it would throw the Dynize into chaos and the Palo could rise up and…

He felt his thoughts circling, unable to focus. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Shit.

“You should probably head back to headquarters,” he told Ichtracia, leaving money for his beer and gathering all the purge orders into his bag.

She didn’t move. “What are you going to do?”

“You sound worried,” Michel said, giving her a soft smile.

“And you look resigned. I don’t like it.”

Michel suddenly felt so tired. It wasn’t his usual exhaustion, either, but something deeper. It was the same thing he’d felt that night when he was confronted by Tenik, and confessed that he worked for the Palo. It was the pain of being so many people at once. He realized why Ichtracia had been so on edge: She knew what he’d do when he saw the orders. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning on the table until he could gather his resolve.

“You can’t go to Yaret,” Ichtracia told him gently. “You’ll risk everything.”

“I’m not stupid,” Michel replied, pushing himself away from the table and heading toward the door. He could hear Ichtracia swear under her breath and run to catch up to him. She fell in beside him outside, and the two of them trudged through the haphazard dripping caused by rain trickling down through the myriad roofs and gutters in Greenfire Depths. Michel headed up to the rim of the Depths, deep in thought, fighting the powerful urge of self-preservation that told him to turn around and head right back down there and figure out a different way to use the purge orders.

He crossed Upper Landfall, entered the capital district, and found one of the Palo street kids that had become de facto spies and runners for several of the large Households up here. With Ichtracia hiding in an alley nearby, he beckoned the kid over and held up a two-krana coin.

“Do you know where the Yaret Household is?”

The child nodded seriously. Through the layer of grime on his face, Michel could barely tell he was Palo – or whether he was actually a she. He dropped the coin in the kid’s hand, then gave him a hastily scrawled note. “I want you to deliver this to Tenik in the Yaret Household. Tell him that you’re to be paid twenty krana for your troubles.”

The kid’s eyes widened. He snatched the note from Michel and took off running without asking any more questions. Michel shadowed him around the corner and then three streets over to be sure that he did, in fact, run to the Yaret Household. Once he was satisfied the kid wouldn’t take the note somewhere else, Michel retreated back to Ichtracia.

“What next?” she asked him.

“I’ve asked Tenik to meet me tomorrow afternoon. Either he’ll show up alone and we’ll give him the purge orders…”

“Or?”

“Or,” Michel said grimly, “he’ll show up with a small army bent on capturing me.”