Heroes' Reward (33 page)

“Forgive us for
disturbing you, Source Zoffany, Shield Sato,” I said. “We have a request. A
significant one. Lady Aryne has asked us to remain here as the Erstwhile Pair
and we’d like to do so.” I should have thought of some reasons why we should be
allowed to stay during our walk over.

Sato relaxed and
smiled slightly. “And you’re asking us.”

I was confused.
“Of course.”

Sato chuckled
and exchanged a glance of amusement with his Source. “You don’t know what’s
happened.”

I thought I had,
until right then. “I don’t understand.”

“Let’s say we
refused your request. What would you do?”

Oh. Did I have
to answer that? It probably wouldn’t be an answer anyone would like.

From Sato’s
expression, no, I didn’t. “It could be said that you and Source Karish have
placed yourself beyond the influence of the Triple S council.”

I’d never heard
of anything like that. “How would we do that?”

“Possibly by
ignoring us for years and flouting your independence in front of everyone you
met,” Zoffany said sharply.

“We didn’t do
that,” I objected.

Sato just raised
an eyebrow at me.

I crossed my
arms uneasily. “We didn’t do that on purpose.”

Sato snickered.

“I don’t want to
be placed outside the influence of the Triple S council,” I objected.

Sato’s humour
drained away, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “I’m not going to discuss all of
the lies and omissions and evasions we’ve endured from you since the day you
left the academies,” he said in a flat voice.

That was good,
because otherwise we’d be there all day.

“I agree you
should stay here.”

I was
immediately suspicious. “Why?”

“Lady Aryne is a
very young woman with an enormous responsibility. She’ll benefit from your
guidance.”

“We’re not here
to guide her. We don’t know how to do anything she needs to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll
demonstrate the same deft versatility you’ve displayed since leaving the
academies.”

“We haven’t been
deft!
We’ve been over our heads the whole time, just stumbling from one
disaster to another.”

“I doubt that’s
how the history books will describe it.”

What history
books? Why would we end up in any history books? “They will if I have anything
to say about it.”

“You want to be
here. We like the idea of your being here. Everyone’s happy.”

I wasn’t. All
I’d ever wanted to do was be a Shield.

“I’m afraid I
can’t really engage in conversation,” said Sato. He lifted his pen and wiggled
it.

So, get out.

“Yes, sir. Thank
you.”

“No need to
thank me.”

Because they no
longer had authority over us. Or something like that. It felt wrong, like I’d
been sliced off from something important to me, something vital.

Taro and I
silently left the room.

“We’ll have to
revisit the rule about refusing to have sex in the palace,” Taro whispered.

I couldn’t help
smiling in response.

Aryne could
discern our news from our faces, and as soon as we entered the room she jumped
on both of us with hugs.

“Don’t get too
excited,” I cautioned her. “You wanted us as advisors, so you’ll be getting
advice, and the first piece of it is to place Caster Murdoch on your council.”

“Sure,” she said
easily. “Why?”

“People all over
the place are learning to cast without any legitimate guidance. Some of them
are causing enormous damage to themselves and the people around them, and not
always accidentally. There’s nothing in the law books that properly addresses
this mess. Murdoch will help you fix that.”

Aryne looked
dismayed. “You want me to build a whole new system of law from the ground?”

I clapped her on
the shoulder. “Welcome to the throne.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

It had been
decided that there would be no parade. Parades were expensive and a means of
rubbing the wealth of the monarch into the faces of all spectators. People
enjoyed them and expected them for momentous occasions, such as coronations,
but so many people had died, so many had lost so much, an elaborate celebration
would appear grotesque and insensitive.

There would be
food and ale, though. There always had to be food and ale.

It had been
three months since Aryne had won the code. Through Natson she had, with a great
deal of advice and assistance, rearranged the Imperial Council. Using some of
the laws already in place, she sent funds and supplies to those most in need of
them, cancelled projects that weren’t essential or were an enormous waste of
money, and encouraged trade between those whose lives had been almost destroyed
and those who had weathered the nightmare on their feet. Officials who had been
illegitimately stripped of their responsibilities were reinstated. High Landed
who had their titles and assets stolen from them were compensated.

All orders were
delivered by Natson, but everyone knew Aryne was behind them. There were
objections to this, of course, claims that Natson’s role was being stretched
far beyond what the law had intended, but the majority appeared willing to let
the situation stand for practical reasons.

Aryne wasn’t
universally adored. Far from it. People thought she was from the wrong part of
the world, uncivilised, undereducated, and too young. She was a Shield, which
meant to many that she had no right to be in charge of anything, and she was
perceived by many as nothing more than a tool of the Triple S.

People who found
themselves removed from positions granted by Gifford or Green hated her. People
given assistance felt they hadn’t been given the right kind or the right
amount. Those who weren’t given compensation felt cheated. Accusations of
favouritism flew like hail.

There were six
attempts on her life. She beat off two of her would-be assassins herself. That,
at least, impressed some who disliked everything else about her.

It wasn’t all
awful. Firen was brilliant, with excellent advice on who would be useful to
take on which tasks, or to speak on Aryne’s behalf to the right people. As long
as I remembered he would stab me in the back as soon as smile at me, I found
him handy to work with.

Murdoch was
invaluable, with his calm and wise demeanour. He commanded the respect of
anyone who could cast, and people in general just seemed to find him
trustworthy. Aryne gave him responsibility for handling the casters who had
chosen not to return to the authority of the Triple S, as well as Green’s
remaining five. For the latter, Murdoch had decided they could walk about the
city, but not leave it, so he could watch them.

They had claimed
they’d thrown all the human ashes in fires over the course of the campaign.
Dench appeared to be sincere in his disgust, but he’d fooled me before.

Natson. Knew.
Everything. I believed that she
had
been given orders to draft
succession documents for Green, but had chosen not to comply. Every time I
tried to talk to her about the subject, she acted like she thought my behaviour
was in appalling taste. She seemed able to dig up every other document we
needed for everything else, though. She had, apparently, been responsible for a
lot of people evading the dangerous attention of Gifford and Green, and their
gratitude made them malleable.

The Commissioner
was given authority over all of the soldiers, those of both forces. Some who
had fought for the Triple S were offered positions as Imperial Guards in
Erstwhile, an option Risa took. Much as we disliked it, the soldiers who had
sided with Gifford and Green had to be left free to do whatever they wished.
Technically, they had done nothing wrong. They’d followed the orders of the
legitimate monarch.

Green had been
executed on the order of traditional magistrates after a proper trial. She had
been the source of the orders for the assassinations, and everyone knew it.

The Pairs were
handed off to the Triple S to manage. Sato confessed to me that he didn’t
really know what to do with them, especially those who could kill Sources as I
had killed Segal. A temporary solution was to keep them away from any other
Pairs who might be required to channel and leave themselves vulnerable to
attack, but that couldn’t be maintained on the long term.

He proposed the
possibility of devising a way to bind the Pairs’ ability to channel.

Tenneson
objected to being punished with Ogawa, claiming he had demonstrated loyalty to
the Triple S and to Aryne. Perhaps he had, but right then no one was
comfortable with letting him run around unsupervised.

These were not
decisions I had to make, and for that I was grateful.

Some accused
Aryne of giving all her responsibilities away, and worse, giving them to people
whom she considered family and friends. They didn’t see her at her desk,
surrounded by piles of paper, trying to combine all of the advice she received
into a coherent set of ideas.

The coronation
couldn’t be delayed any longer, and an open invitation had been sent out. All
who wanted to witness the event were welcome.

And many did.
People flowed into Erstwhile, more than could be easily accommodated. At least
most thought to bring tents and the like with them. Erstwhile was known for
being ridiculously expensive.

Merchants,
traders, the heads of guilds and Runner corps came to attend the event and
swear oaths of fealty. Technically, all titleholders were required to swear
oaths as well, but some of them simply had too much to do managing the
destroyed lives of their tenants, and they would come at a later time to show
their loyalty.

To my
disappointment, Fiona was one titleholder who felt she had to delay her oath.
While she had been virtually untouched by Gifford’s regime, she felt compelled
to help those who hadn’t been so fortunate, and she was travelling far from
Westsea to bring goods to people who had nothing.

My own family
wasn’t able to come, either, for similar reasons.

Taro and I
weren’t idle. In addition to being forced to participate in many of the
meetings and consultations, we found ourselves the recipients of many requests
from those who thought we were a direct path to Aryne’s ear. They offered
money, jewellery, and the company of beautiful family members in exchange for
our taking news of their interests to the Empress-to-be. Taro and I turned them
down, all of them, but that seemed to have little impact on the ambitions of
such people, and they persisted.

So I didn’t
notice the scaffold that was being built before the new and less hideous palace
gate until the day before the coronation. It had four chairs built upon it. The
largest one, of simple black walnut wood, was to be Aryne’s throne. Gifford’s
monstrocity had been melted down. There was one chair to the right of it and
two on the left. Traditionally, a second chair might be placed for a consort or
an heir. Aryne had neither.

When she had a
spare moment, I asked her about it.

She looked like
she thought the answer was obvious. “For Druce and you and Shintaro.”

I stared at her.
“All right, Druce makes sense. She’s your Source. But Taro and I don’t belong
up there.”

“You’re the
Erstwhile Pair. You’re my most important advisors.”

“If you glorify
us in this way, people will think we have too much influence over you. That the
Triple S has influence over you. You can’t afford that.”

“People know
you’re not really tied to the Triple S anymore. Not really.”

That idea still
disturbed me.

“And it’s all
about the same reasons you need to be the Erstwhile Pair. You’re the best.
You’re connected to everything. Everyone loves you. Except the ones who are
jealous of you, and they don’t matter.”

“People might
think you’re expecting them to swear fealty to us.”

“Unless they’re
stupid, the wording of the oaths themselves will tell them I’m not.”

“You’re putting
us on display,” I complained.

“Do it for me,”
she implored. She widened her eyes. “Please.”

And, of course,
I was bound. “I think I liked you better when you never used that word.”

She grinned in
triumph.

And so the next
day, after the crowds had gathered, Taro and Druce and I climbed on to the
scaffold, stood in front of our designated chairs, and waited for Aryne.
Trumpets announced her approach, and in a slim-fitting red dress that everyone
else would soon be imitating, she climbed the stairs and stood at the table,
where Natson was waiting.

Natson bowed to
Aryne and Aryne nodded in return.

“State your name,”
Natson ordered.

“Aryne Malkar.”

“State your
lineage.”

Unfortunately,
Aryne didn’t know her mother’s name. We’d made one up. Her great grandmother
had been the one to move to Flatwell, so it wasn’t as though anyone could check
without more effort and expense than most people could afford. “Daughter of
Antonia Madas, who was the daughter of Nevress Madas, who was the daughter of
Ara Dexy Migella Madas, who was the daughter of Kemmeth Elisia Yuuki Madas, who
was the daughter of Aneck Randolf Emery Madas, who was the son of Benik Chapry
James Madas, and stretching back into the mists of time.”

“How have you
proven your right to the position of high commander of the Empire?”

“Through tests
of strength and strategy.”

And then some.

“How have you
proven your right to the position of high justice of the Empire?”

“Through study
and reflection.”

“Who will attest
to your character?”

“I will.” Lord
Lampen had volunteered for this task. He’d been one of those who’d been
stripped of his estate under Green’s rule, after her return from the
battlefield. We’d investigated his recent actions, and we could find no reason
to believe he had deserved such a loss beyond apparently being one of those who
had been resistant to the casts wound through Gifford’s oaths of fealty.

“And you are?”

“The Earl of
Lampen.”

“And what say
you, my lord?”

“I attest that
Lady Aryne is a woman of honour, of honesty, of valour, and of sound mind.”
Then he stepped back.

“Why should you
be our Empress?” Natson asked Aryne.

Here, the
ceremonial responses had needed adjustment, due to Aryne’s upbringing.

“I have been
trained in the knowledge of my responsibilities to the people, and tutored in
the honour to be found in the service of others. Always will I know that every
decision I make must be made with the best interests of the people in mind,
that their needs come before my own, that I am merely the most visible of
servants to the people. I will dedicate myself to the peace and prosperity of
all. This shall be my guiding principle for the rest of my life.”

The adjustments
also made for a shorter speech. Shorter speeches were better speeches.

Natson picked up
from the table the monarch’s sword. “Do you affirm on your name, your life, and
your lineage, that you will keep the position of high commander of the Empire
with all honour, putting aside personal connection and favour where it may
conflict with duty, for as long as you shall live?”

“I so affirm.”

Natson presented
the sword to Aryne, hilt first. “I bestow upon you the rank of high commander.”

Aryne, looking
elegant and serene, took the sword.

Natson picked up
the staff, the symbol of justice. “Do you affirm on your name, your life, and
your lineage that you will keep the position of high justice with all honour,
putting aside personal connection and favour where it may conflict with duty,
for as long as you shall live?”

“I so affirm.”

Natson offered
the staff. “I bestow upon you the rank of high justice.”

Aryne took the
staff and held it at an angle so it didn’t clatter against the sword.

Natson held up
the heavy crown. “Do you affirm on your name, your life, and your lineage that
you will keep the position of Empress with all honour, putting aside personal
connection and favour when it may conflict with duty, as long as you shall
live?”

“I so affirm.”

Natson stood
behind her and had to reach up pretty high to put the crown on Aryne’s head. “I
bestow upon you the rank of Empress.”

I took a deep
breath.

The spectators
applauded. They weren’t wildly enthusiastic, but it wasn’t as bad as it could
have been.

And when the
applause quieted, all Aryne said was, “Thank you.”

Druce, Taro and
I sat in our seats.

Lampen was the
first to climb the stairs to swear his loyalty to Aryne.

As I watched
person after person come up to kneel before our new Empress, I wondered what
the hell I was doing there.