The Conjuring Man, page 16
“Princess Violet,” Hayloft said. His voice shook, slightly. “Do you swear to uphold the Great Charter of Tarsier, and respect the rights of her people?”
“I do,” Princess Violet said.
“Do you swear to hold yourself subject to the laws of the kingdom, to uphold the rule of law even against yourself, and to make no attempt to violate the rights of the people regardless of the cause?”
“I do,” Princess Violet said, again.
Hayloft’s voice hardened. “And do you swear to rule in consultation with your people, to listen to them and accept their sovereignty even over you, to stand between them and those who would seek to undermine their sovereignty and replace it with their own?”
“I do,” Princess Violet said.
The princess showed no visible hesitation, but Adam would have been astonished if she hadn’t resented the third and final question. She would not – she would never – be an absolute monarch, with the power of life and death over her subjects. It would be the people themselves, however represented, who would hold the final power to themselves ... Adam had no idea how it would work out, but the queen would be required to keep the aristocracy from working mischief. Could she keep them in line? Or would they be driven out of the country?
“And so, in the name of the people united, I crown you Queen Violet of Tarsier,” Hayloft said, placing a simple golden circlet on her head. His voice shook again. He was crossing again, although he’d already crossed so many lines his execution was certain if he fell into enemy hands. They’d have problems deciding which of his many capital crimes should head the death warrant. “Long may you reign.”
“Long may she reign,” the crowd boomed.
Adam’s lips twitched. It sounds rehearsed ...
Princess – no, Queen – Violet stood and turned to face the crowd. Adam felt a thrill of something he didn’t care to look at too closely, something drawing him to her cause and repelling him at the same time. His upbringing told him she looked silly, like any other woman lowering herself to wear male clothing, but ... he shook his head. He’d seen Taffy in work clothes often enough. The queen looked ... serious, as if she were more than a pretty face. Perhaps that was the point, he reflected wryly. A Ruling Queen had to be seen as a capable ruler, first and foremost. Too many people would refuse to take her seriously otherwise.
“My people,” she said. Her voice was friendly and warm and yet ... Adam wasn’t sure how to put it into words. She was one of the people and yet she wasn’t. “We thank you for your trust in us, and we swear we will live up to it. It is our pleasure to sign the Great Charter into law and to be the first to swear, too, to uphold the rights it proffers to every last one of our citizens. It is our promise to you that we will be first and foremost in extending those rights to the rest of the kingdom.”
She paused. “We speak now to the servants of the false king, dethroned by order of his people. We speak to those of ancient bloodline and those new, but ennobled by magic. We say you must make a choice. You must come to us by the end of the month and swear loyalty to us and the Great Charter, forsaking all others, or your ancient titles and rights will be considered forfeit. You must come to us, and swear your willingness to work for a better future for the entire kingdom, or we will assume it is your wish to be our enemy and we will remove you from your ranks and stations. You must choose whether you wish to walk into the future or be left behind, in the past.”
Her words hung in the air. “And to those who are your subjects, I say we will support you if you stand up for your rights. If you have been enslaved, you are now free; if you have been serfs, you are now freemen; if you have been held in bondage by ancient debt, you are now free of it.”
Adam sucked in his breath as the crowd roared its approval. He understood the importance of ending serfdom and land reform and everything else – he’d heard about it from the very first day he’d visited Heart’s Ease – but he doubted it would be anything like as easy as the new queen suggested. The aristocracy would not heed her words and simply let their serfs go, let alone hand over their ancestral lands to the people who worked them. The serfs would have to fight for their freedom, which meant ... he shuddered inwardly. A great many people on both sides were about to die.
“We thank you – I thank you,” Queen Violet finished, when the crowd quietened. “And I swear, to all of you, that I will live up to the faith you have placed in me.”
The crowd roared again. Adam had to smile. It wasn’t a proper coronation, perhaps, but it hardly mattered. The gauntlet had been thrown down and there was no going back. Queen Violet and the Levellers were bound together now, forced to hang together or hang separately. The drink was already being passed out, barrels of beer and bottles of wine – the latter looted from abandoned mansions – being drained dry. There’d be a big street party, he’d been assured, before everyone got back to work. Adam’s eyes wandered – again – to the airship. Yvonne and Praxis were already training more fliers in preparation for the inevitable recall to the university. Adam was mildly surprised they hadn’t been recalled already. He put the matter aside as the band started to play, the music drawing vast crowds into the dance. Adam caught Lilith’s hand and pulled her into the dance himself. It felt as if he were part of something greater than himself.
He found himself smiling as the party went on and on. Young men and women kissed openly, something that would have gotten them rebuked only a few short weeks ago. Now ... who knew? He caught sight of Taffy and Dalia, dancing together, and blinked in surprise before deciding it wasn’t any of his business. Betty was standing by the edge of the street, deep in conversation with a pair of councillors. Adam waved to her as they whirled past, the dance music pulling them onwards. He couldn’t see anyone who seemed unhappy, although it was unlikely they’d show their feelings so openly if they were. A great many people had been forced to flee – or were lynched – before the Levellers had managed to crack down on open violence. Any monarchists left in the city were likely to be keeping their heads as low as possible.
“I need a rest,” Lilith said, finally. “How about you?”
Adam nodded and led the way over to the food-laden tables. He hoped, as he took a couple of plates and passed one to her, that there was enough food to keep the city alive long enough for normal trade to be resumed. The Levellers pledged – and the evidence suggested they were right – that land reform would lead directly to higher crop yields and cheaper food for all, but it would take time. And the political complications ... There’d be landowners hurrying to swear loyalty to their new monarch, on the assumption she’d let them keep their lands if they bent the knee quickly enough, and others who’d do their best to keep their serfs in ignorance as long as possible. It was going to be difficult, if not impossible, to sort out the mess.
“Quite a display,” a new voice said. Adam looked around to see Valerie Hunt, notebook in hand. “What do you make of it?”
“It’s promising,” Adam said, after a moment. “What about you?”
“I’ll wait and see,” Valerie said. “Lilith? What do you think?”
Lilith considered it. “Queen Violet showed remarkable promise, when she arrived at Heart’s Eye, but there was the affair of Princess Daphne,” she said. “We still don’t understand quite what happened there, or if the two princesses were allowed to escape ...”
“If they were, that was one hell of a misjudgement,” Valerie pointed out. “Princess Violet just got herself crowned.”
“So what?” Lilith shrugged. “I could call myself the greatest sorceress in all the land, with so much magic I could defeat everyone with a snap of my fingers, and it wouldn’t make it true. The king is still in his castle. His allies are not going to desert him just because his sister declared herself queen. She may say he’s been deposed, but ... so what? He’s not going to stand aside, just because she said so. She’ll have to kick him off the throne physically if she wants to win.”
“Yeah,” Valerie agreed. “But we won here, easily.”
“Not that easily,” Adam countered. “If we hadn’t brought the airship, the rebels might have been driven back and defeated when reinforcements arrived.”
“Next time will be harder,” Valerie agreed. “But we’ll get there.”
“I certainly hope so,” Adam agreed. “And ...”
He broke off as the first fireworks streaked into the sky and exploded overhead. He’d argued against using the gunpowder for rockets, back when they’d been planning the ceremony, but he’d been overruled. He hoped that wouldn’t come back to bite them as more rockets shot into the air, a couple catching fire and exploding before they should’ve. Another was a two-stage rocket, with the first stage lifting the second into the air and throwing the payload far higher before it detonated. Adam frowned as a thought occurred to him, a concept ... he reached for his notepad and scribbled it down, all too aware he might forget if he didn’t make a note of it before it was too late. He’d be going back to the university soon and he’d have a chance to experiment ...
“She made a lot of promises,” Valerie said. “Do you think she’ll keep them?”
“I wish I knew,” Adam admitted. If he’d learnt one thing in the last few weeks, it was that it was easier to argue for or against a particular policy if one wasn’t charged with carrying it out. Some ideas sounded good, when they were outlined, but pretty much impossible to turn into reality. “Right now, we hold most of the cards.”
Valerie nodded. “Can I quote you on that?”
Lilith coughed. “How many people read your broadsheet now?”
“Well ...” Valerie smiled. “Right now, we are selling like hotcakes in Heart’s Ease and Farrakhan. The local broadsheets were shut down when the army moved past the city to lay siege to the university, and they haven’t got back up to speed, not yet. And we’re already making arrangements to smuggle copies further into the kingdom. The king’s censors will never see them coming.”
“I’m sure they’ll be shutting down all the usual smuggling routes,” Lilith said, thoughtfully. “How do you intend to get them into the cities?”
“Well,” Valerie said, “we do have a plan. Just you wait and see.”
Adam nodded. In theory, it was impossible to smuggle anything into a walled city. In practice, it was easy as long as the smugglers were careful. And ... he frowned inwardly as it dawned on him the king could smuggle things into the city too. It was something the council would have to watch for, as the euphoria of overthrowing the king’s government gave way to the reality of clearing up the mess. There’d be someone – he was sure – loudly insisting things had been better before the revolution.
Right now, that isn’t our problem, he told himself. But that’ll change soon enough.
Chapter Seventeen
“I think it is fairly clear you overstepped your remit,” Master Dagon said. “What were you thinking?”
Adam hid his irritation with an effort. They’d only just flown back to the university, with the intention of rearming Voidsdaughter and giving the crew a rest, and he’d been looking forward to returning to his workshop and turning his concept into reality. There were a great many other things to do, ranging from simple charged wands and staffs to extensive spells that would need to be adapted carefully before they could be cast through runic tiles, and he really didn’t have the time to be interrogated by Lilith’s father. The only saving grace, he supposed, was that Yvonne and Praxis were getting the worst of it. They were supposed to be the ones in charge.
Yvonne refused to let herself be bullied. “We have been through this,” she said. “We either support Queen Violet or we risk being isolated. Or worse. Queen Violet has already signed the revised treaties with us and ...”
“Treaties it isn’t clear she has the right to sign,” Master Dagon snapped. “Or the power to enforce. She can promise us the world, if she wins, but there’s no guarantee she’ll ever be in a position to actually give it to us.”
Adam exchanged glances with Lilith as the argument raged on. He’d thought the matter settled. He’d thought the university would provide all the support Queen Violet and the Levellers needed, as long as the university itself wasn’t at risk. And yet, Master Dagon was acting as if the matter was very far from settled. He wondered, sourly, what was bothering the older man. The university didn’t have a choice but to support the new monarch, and assuredly Master Dagon knew it. There was literally no other way to guarantee the university’s survival long enough for the staff to get back on their feet, strengthen the defences and adapt to the brave new world.
“We are not taking an open stand,” Mistress Irene said, stiffly. “We are merely allowing our staff and students to volunteer, if they wish, to assist the queen to secure her throne in exchange for concessions.”
“A distinction without a difference,” Master Dagon snarled. “I am entirely sure that neither King Ephialtes nor Lady Emily will see any real difference and why not? There is none!”
“And the fact remains, the world has changed,” Yvonne said calmly. “We are caught between supporting Queen Violet, and her allies, or standing on the sidelines to see who comes out ahead. If Violet wins without any further support from us, we cannot expect her to take our side later on – or even consider the treaties she signed as anything more than ink on paper, if not agreements made under duress. If she loses, and King Ephialtes regains control of Farrakhan, we can expect to be attacked again shortly – and the next time we won’t get lucky and trigger off a firestorm that obliterates much of the enemy army and puts the rest to flight. We cannot even rely on the nexus point to shield us.”
“We can tighten the wards and make ourselves invulnerable,” Master Dagon said.
“Unless Arnold has other agents, willing or not, inside our wards,” Adam said, quietly.
Master Dagon gave him a look that threatened death and damnation. “Are you sure he’s even still alive?”
“Yes,” Adam said. “He teleported out before he could be caught in the blast. It’s possible he splattered himself against a set of wards, but unlikely. He presumably knew where he was going.”
“And how would you, a man without magic, know about how teleport spells work?” Master Dagon’s expression darkened. “You have never used one for yourself.”
Adam felt his cheeks heat. Beside him, Lilith stiffened. “I know the theory,” Adam said, keeping his voice quiet and measured. Somehow. “If the spell was cast on reflex, the preliminary spellwork must have already been done, including the planned destination. Arnold would not have chosen somewhere he considered unsafe, let alone somewhere so heavily warded that no one – not even the master – could teleport into the compound without being killed.”
“He’s right, father,” Lilith said. “Arnold is a very powerful and capable magician.”
“One who lost to a mundane,” Master Dagon said. “Twice.”
“I got lucky,” Adam said. It galled him to admit it, but Arnold would have won if he’d stunned Adam the moment he saw him and handed him over to the king. Or simply killed him on the spot. “Arnold didn’t know about the magic in my blood, or about what would happen when his clockwork disputer was ... ah, disputed.”
Mistress Irene cleared her throat. “We are getting away from the point,” she said. “There is no way we can batten down the hatches and seal ourselves behind our wards. Arnold and King Ephialtes don’t have to force their way through the defences. They just need to wait for us to starve. Our food reserves are very low, even though we have regained access to the farms on the other side of the desert. Another siege will doom us.”
“We can hold out,” Master Dagon insisted.
“For two weeks, and that is being optimistic,” Praxis said, stiffly. “Realistically, we’ll be eating each other within the week.”
“There are ways to prolong our supplies,” Master Dagon said. “We could just place ourselves in stasis, or inhuman forms and ...”
“Too much could go wrong,” Mistress Irene said, bluntly. “We have to fight.”
“You spent most of your career at Whitehall,” Master Dagon said. “Did you ever interfere in the affairs of Alluvia?”
“No,” Mistress Irene said. “But we never had cause to fear the outcome if someone challenged King ... the King of Alluvia. Even if they overthrew him, it wouldn’t make any difference to Whitehall. We drew our basic supplies from the farms and forests around Dragon’s Den. If we were cut off, it wouldn’t be that hard to bring in supplies through portals or even teleports. Everyone knew a monarchical army approaching Whitehall would be crushed, practically effortlessly. This is different.”
She let out a breath. “The old portal network is gone. Teleporting is dangerous. Our messengers never returned – and now we know why. The old order, and all its old certainties, is crumbling. We must adapt or die.”
Master Dagon huffed. “Lady Emily would not approve.”
“If Emily feels I – we – have overstepped, she can remove us when she returns to the university,” Mistress Irene snapped. Her voice made it clear there would be no further debate. “Until then, we will do as we see fit.”
She let the words hang in the air for a long, cold moment. “And now, what sort of further support can we offer?”
Yvonne clasped her hands behind her back and straightened. “I have two-thirds of the craftsmen busy in the workshops, churning out as many rifles, mortars and other mundane weapons as possible. We are running into dozens of bottlenecks as we try to speed up production, but I’m confident we can maintain the current rate – perhaps even increase it – for the next few months. The Foundry was devastated by the evacuation and then by the enemy army, and it will take quite some time to rebuild completely, yet ...”
