Heroes' Reward (6 page)

The position of
High Justice was meant to be purely ceremonial. He had to give royal assent to
any new law, but otherwise he was supposed to stay out of the whole process,
because he didn’t really know anything about it.

It was possible
he had educated himself, but I found this unlikely. It didn’t seem in
character.

“He then reminded
us that he was in charge of the Imperial Guard, which was always prepared to
subdue those who defied His Majesty’s authority.”

What? Did I
understand that correctly? “The Emperor is threatening to attack you with the
Imperial Guard?”

“No, Shield
Mallorough,” Dunn said coolly. “He’s threatening
us
. The whole of the
Triple S.”

I hadn’t been
excluding myself from the ranks of the Triple S. I’d just meant I wasn’t the
one who’d received the threat. They shouldn’t be so quick to find fault. “And
you believe him?”

Dunn nodded.
“Ours are not the only rights being violated. He is executing titleholders for
reasons no more worthy than that they have displeased him. He is interfering
with the guilds, controlling who they admit, what they teach, and what they produce.
He is censoring the performance of plays and music he claims are seditious. In
short, there is no one whose interests are spared his unlawful interference. It
would be foolish and irresponsible to dismiss any threat he may level at us.”

I couldn’t believe
what I was hearing. “You’re talking about some kind of … what? … army?”

At this point,
Regulos took control of the discussion. “We can’t rely on Gifford to behave
rationally. That was the route taken by the titleholders, and they’re being
decimated. We can’t just wait here until he’s gone through everyone else and
we’re left standing alone. As His Majesty has threatened us with his Imperial
Guard, it is only reasonable that we gather a guard of our own. To this end, we
have hired those Imperial Guards and Runners who have expressed dissatisfaction
with their occupations.”

I wasn’t
surprised that there were Imperial Guards prepared to defect. Thatcher had been
one and he had gone astray. I
was
surprised the Triple S even wanted
Runners. Runners could club people into insensibility, but that was a great
deal different from engaging in battle. “And they’re supposed to stand against
the Imperial Guard
and
Gifford’s army?”

Regulos waved
his hand in a dismissive gesture. “The army hasn’t been an effective institution
for decades. The monarchs have come to prefer the Imperial Guard. The cities
prefer Runners. The wealthy prefer to hire their own protection. The members of
the army do little more than strut about and harrass the residents. Certainly,
the members of the army who have joined us here show no greater knowledge or
talent than the Imperial Guards.”

The army had
little to do. There hadn’t been a need for any kind of massive force, no enemy
that demanded it.

“The Emperor is
gathering casters,” Regulos continued. “Westsea’s conflict with Kent
demonstrated that casters can be … versatile.”

They could cast
spells that killed people. That was what he meant.

“And we have
discovered than an unusual number of Shields can cast.”

That reminded
me. “What’s going on with Shields committing suicide?” Yes, a blunt change in
subject. Maybe the surprise would result in decent answers.

Regulos’
expression turned to stone. “That is no concern of yours.”

Or, maybe not. “It’s
everyone’s concern. What’s the matter with you?”

Taro leaned his
foot against mine, just a little. A signal telling me I should moderate my
tone.

Regulos pulled
in a deep breath, clearly calming himself down. “There are no greater numbers
of Shields committing suicide than there ever were.”

“That’s not what
the regulars appear to be thinking.”

“We believe the
Emperor is trying to poison our relationship with the regulars by starting
false rumours.”

I didn’t find
that difficult to believe.

“It doesn’t help
that there are, apparently, incidents of regulars posing as Pairs and robbing
traders of their goods.”

Ah, hell.

“Regulars are
becoming more inclined to believe just about any story about us that they
happen to hear.”

Damn it. Just …
I couldn’t think of anything. Just, damn it.

“If we may
continue,” Regulos suggested sarcastically.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your task is to
train our casters in the techniques passed on to you by Healer Browne.”

“You want me to
train casters to kill people,” I said flatly.

“Exactly.”

“To execute the
Emperor.”

Everyone
appeared shocked. Was my my plain speaking considered in poor taste?

“No one has the
right to execute the Emperor,” said Regulos. “But there are other ways to make
an Emperor powerless. There are other ways to change the law.”

“Our hope is to
change everyone’s mind,” Sato added. “Not kill people. But to do that, we have
to show equal strength. We need to be able to do everything Gifford’s people
can do, and his people are learning to kill.”

“I don’t
understand this sudden delicacy, Shield Mallorough,” sneered Shield Lavoisier,
liaison between the Triple S and regulars. “It isn’t as though you haven’t
killed people before.”

Bastard.

Sato glared at
Lavoisier, then he turned back to me. “We need your help. Are you willing to
co-operate?”

“This is grossly
tilted,” I responded plaintively.

“I know,” Sato
admitted.

For some reason,
that he was prepared to concede to that fact made me feel better. A little.

Still, I felt
disgusted as I said, “Yes.”

“Excellent.”
Sato’s gaze shifted to Taro. “Source Karish, can we rely on you to teach our
Sources what you know about creating events?”

Taro rubbed his
temples before saying, “Yes.”

“And instruct
them in your healing skills?”

“Yes.”

I felt cold.

Sato’s
expression was calm, not triumphant. “The rest of the day is yours. Tomorrow,
you’ll meet your students and we can get started. You can go now.”

We were
banjaxed.

Chapter Seven

The next
morning, we were served breakfast in our room again. Just after the staffer
cleared away our trays, in walked an elderly man, bald and wrinkled, with light
blue eyes, shoulders slightly hunched, and a hand with thickened knuckles
curled around the head of a cane.

“Professor!”
Taro exclaimed with delight. He hugged the older man. Gently.

The old man
grinned. He didn’t have a lot of teeth. “My dear boy!” He touched Taro’s cheek.
“I never thought to see you again. And I wish I weren’t, in these
circumstances.”

“Sir, this is my
Shield, Dunleavy Mallorough. Lee, this is Professor Saint-Gerard.”

Not a name
spoken often, but always spoken with respect and affection. One of the few
people from the Source Academy who had believed Taro had any wits. I’d never
thought I’d have a chance to meet him, and I was delighted. “I am so pleased to
meet you, sir. Karish thinks so well of you.”

The Professor
gave me a crinkly smile. “As he does you. He says you take good care of him.”

“I don’t know
about that. It usually seems more the other way around.”

“He trusts you
with his secrets. What higher compliment is there?”

He hadn’t had
any choice but to trust me with his secrets. Most of them would have been
impossible to hide from me. But I felt that compliments could be protested only
once. More than that and the denial became insulting.

“The Professor
always warned me to keep any unusual activities to myself,” Taro explained.

“Ah. So you were
the one who taught him to be paranoid.”

“With good
reason, aye?”

“Unfortunately.”
The warning hadn’t been to any benefit, though. Mostly because we’d been stupid
and careless.

“All these
plans, do you think they’re necessary?” Taro asked.

“Yes,” Saint-Gifford
answered promptly.

“And the Triple
S has been gathering people with special talents in anticipation of these
events?” I asked.

“No, no.
Originally, they were just collecting people to study.”

“Like animals,”
I muttered.

“Aye,”
Saint-Gerard agreed with a tone of distaste. “The council claimed they were
acting in the best interests of everyone, making sure these unusual people
didn’t hurt themselves or others in unexpected ways. There was dissent, of
course, but the majority beliefs won. Then Gifford took the throne, and we
learned that despite the harsher laws he was enacting against casting, he was
actually gathering as much talent and information as he could for his own use.
Given his practice of violating customs and laws, the council felt we had no
choice but to add a new focus to our own activities.”

He opened the
door. “We must get going. It takes me a while to shift anywhere these days.
Grab your things. You’ll be staying at the Arena from now on.”

“Surely you have
more important things to do,” Taro objected.

“Aye.”
Saint-Gerard grinned. “But I had to take this opportunity to see you. I’m still
at the Source Academy, and we’re both going to be too busy for casual visits. I
don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again, if this all goes as dark as it
looks it might.”

Saint-Gerard led
us through the back of the building, across a lush green lawn, and to a high
stone wall. I could hear on the other side some kind of shouting. Not constant,
not screaming. I couldn’t determine the exact nature of it, and I couldn’t
properly hear the words.

We stepped
through an iron door onto another stretch of grass, several acres large. In the
dead centre of the field were six long buildings, three stories high.
Surrounding them, chaos. People riding horses in tight circles and jumping over
high obstacles. People sparring by hand and with staves and other objects
grabbed up from the area. To one side, a large collection of people were moving
around in unison, marching in lines.

“Is he reading
out of a book?” Taro demanded incredulously, pointing at a man who was
organizing the marching and who did indeed appear to be reading the orders from
a text.

Saint-Gerard
shrugged. “No one really knows how to organize military manoeuvres anymore. At
least, none of those who’ve come here do.”

This was just
crazy. “And the others, the subordinates, they just accept that level of
incompetence? Are they suicidal?”

“They’re paid,”
Saint-Gerard responded. “Twice as much as they were given by the Crown. And
they’re supplied with shelter and food. Many of them feel they’re rolling in
wealth and it’s bought us their loyalty.”

“Where do you
get the coin?” Taro asked.

“From the
Crown.”

“They give you
money to lure their own people away?”

“They don’t know
that’s where the money is going. It’s possible the council has been reporting
slightly higher expenses than we had. For a few years.”

Why did I
suspect that
slightly
was actually
massively
and
a few years
actually meant
decades
?

One of the
marching individuals fell. I couldn’t see what she’d tripped on. Perhaps her
own feet. “And how did you lure in the Runners?”

“The same way.
With coin.”

“And they know
what this is about?”

“They know
enough. Gifford has been interfering with the management of the Runners, as
well. From what I understand, the assignment of duties, promotions, and
punishments among the ranks of the Runners have begun making even less sense
than usual, and this has created a great deal of animosity.”

As we walked
closer to those marching people, I recognized someone I’d never expected to see
again, and I was surprised into exclaiming, “Risa!”

Risa Demaris had
been a Runner in High Scape. I’d met her during an investigation when Taro had
been abducted, and she had been the only one to forgive me when I was the one
to actually find him. Sort of accidentally.

Risa had been
friendly and kind, and she had broken Runner protocol and regulations whenever
she felt Taro and I needed to be warned of dangerous forces moving about the
city. She had also been underpaid and bitter about it. This combined with very
expensive tastes meant she had been in debt the whole time I’d known her.

Alerted by my
shout, she stepped back from her position to see who was calling her. She
grinned and nonchalantly broke formation, ignoring the admonishments of her
commanding officer – or whatever he was – to trot over to me.

She gave me an
enthusiastic hug, then tugged on a lock of Taro’s hair. “Karish!” And then, all
of a sudden, her manner shifted to one of quiet respect. “Professor,” she
greeted Saint-Gerard.

“You’re looking
hale, Private Demaris.”

Risa looked
magnificent. She always had. Tall and lean with gorgeous dark skin and eyes and
glorious red hair. The red hair looked so much better on her than me.

“And
disobedient,” Saint-Gerard continued with a smile.

Risa shrugged.
“The man is an idiot.”

“He’s not going
to be commanding people if there’s a fight, is he?” Taro demanded.

“Everyone is
learning.” Saint-Gerard didn’t seem concerned.

That meant yes.

We were all
going to die.

“It will be a
relief to have experts to instruct our other students,” Saint-Gerard continued.
“Please excuse us, Private Demaris. I need to introduce these two to some
people.”

“Aye, I’ll go
back to marching around in circles. A real brain twister, that is.”

We followed
Saint-Gerard around the buildings, where we found a whole new group of –
Students? Fighters? Soldiers? I preferred to call them students.

They were split
into two groups, the space between them great enough that they didn’t interfere
with each other. One group was clearly casting, surrounded by piles of
ingredients I recognized. The other group consisted of Pairs.

Taro drew in a
harsh breath. “What are they doing?” He pointed at the Pairs.

“Competing. Or
duelling, if you.”

“With events?”

“Aye. One Pair
is creating an event, the other tries to stop them.”

How unnatural. I
looked at Taro for signs that he was feeling a compulsion to channel, that his
shields were lowering, but nothing happened. “Are you all right?”

He cocked his
head. “It feels odd.”

“Isn’t this sort
of thing creating difficulties for the students at the Source Academy?” I asked
Saint-Gerard. “Aren’t they feeling these activities and trying to channel
them?”

“Taro isn’t the
only one to have developed new abilities over time,” said Saint-Gerard. “We’ve been
able to confine the effects of the channelling to certain areas. Not everyone
has the ability to be quite as precise as Taro, but one of the reasons we moved
to the fringe of the city was to make it easier for us to prevent any events
from being felt in the Academy itself.”

“So many Pairs
trained in this manner will provide an enormous advantage to the Triple S,” I
suggested. “More than enough to halt any armed fighters, surely.

“It would be, if
we were the only ones with such Pairs,” said Saint-Gerard. “The Emperor has
been luring in some Pairs of his own.”

My mouth dropped
open. “There are Pairs voluntarily leaving the Triple S to fight with the
Emperor?”

Taro looked as
shocked and horrified as I felt. “Why the hell would any of them do that?”

“We’ve been told
they’ve been promised land. Land they can pass down to their children. And they
are more likely to have children, given Erstwhile is a cold site.”

It wasn’t
impossible for people who regularly channelled to conceive or sire children,
but it was unusual.

“We believe the
Emperor hopes these Shields and Sources will produce more Shields and Sources,
and that the Emperor will have whole families who are loyal to him.”

“But – ” I
stopped myself from saying something stupid. Everyone knew it was illegal for
members of the Triple S to own land, aside from the Academies. It appeared the
Emperor was demonstrating increasing disdain for the law as time went by.

Taro frowned. “I
would have thought the Emperor would keep such plans a secret. A lot of
regulars would be furious.”

“We have
knowledge most regulars don’t. Not all the people in the Emperor’s environment
are as loyal to him as he might think.”

“You have
someone there watching everything?” I was appalled. “You sent someone to spy on
him? That’s too dangerous!”

“No, we haven’t
sent anyone. There are those around him who disagree with what he is doing and
have been providing us with information.”

I couldn’t
imagine being that brave, walking around under the Emperor’s nose and sending
out information he didn’t want relayed to anyone. The tension would be
unbearable.

That wasn’t why
I had been recalled, thank the gods.

Still, “I’ve
never taught anyone anything.” Except Aryne, a little, with reading and
manners. I knew any progress on her part was due largely to her own
intelligence rather than any competence with instruction on my part.

“One should
always embrace the opportunity to experience new things.”

Was he making
fun of me?

Teaching was a
skill. I knew this. I’d had professors, after all. Some had been engaging, some
had left me clinging to my desk to restrain myself from running out of the room
screaming with boredom. Some professors had taken inherently interesting
subjects and managed to drain all spark from them by their delivery of the
facts while others …. Professor Burl had made me laugh during a lecture about
properly surveying a waterfront lot. That took talent.

A talent I was
pretty sure I lacked.

Saint-Gerard
touched my arm. “Let me introduce you to your students, Dunleavy.”

Did he have to?

He led me to the
group of casters. He didn’t announce our presence immediately, and I was given
a few moments to observe my new students. Most of the spells I saw performed,
well, they weren’t as advanced as one might like. Changing the colours of
objects, there really wasn’t any use for that.

Lifting things,
though, that had been handy in the past.

The casters
ranged in years from youths to middle-aged. They weren’t all Shields. About a
third of them appeared to be regulars.

The caster
nearest to me – a few years older than me, about Taro’s height but broad
shouldered, with short dark hair and gorgeous dark brown eyes- was raising
several items at once and moving them in a circle. I’d never seen anyone do
that. It must have taken incredible focus.

Saint-Gerard
cleared his throat. “Liam, my boy.”

The caster
lowered the items back to the ground, all with great control. Then he looked at
me. “You’re Shield Dunleavy Mallorough?”