with plaster that’s mostly rainwater. Thousands of people crammed in like rats. To look at them, you’d think they couldn’t stand. You’d think they’d have to collapse beneath their own weight.’
‘But?’
‘But they do stand, General – and do you know why?’
‘Enlighten me,’ he said, and he even seemed to mean it.
‘Because they lean against each other. Any one of them, alone, would collapse in a stiff wind. But together? Together they’re solid enough to live in.’
‘Who’d want to?’
‘It beats the alternatives. The thing is, the balance is precarious. If you were to knock out a wall, move around a strut or two – the whole structure might tumble.’
‘I hadn’t known you were such a poet, Lieutenant.’
‘Your shot at the Giroies is having consequences you don’t see. The Tarasaighns are getting antsy, figuring maybe they ought to make a move on what the Rouenders still hold. The heretics watch them squad up and start worrying where their hammer is gonna fall. Across the city, knives are being sharpened and targets staked out.’
‘The rest of the syndicates can enjoy their temporary good fortune – I assure you, it won’t last. The Old Man and his ilk might be content allowing half of Rigus to be run by racketeers, but I’m afraid I’m not.’
‘Wipe them all away, will you?’
‘They’ll make a decent start.’
‘What comes then? Revolution?’
‘The revolution came. It came when hundreds of thousands of men stirred themselves from their villages, from their boroughs and sleeping hamlets, and traveled across the Thirteen Lands to bring death to strangers. You say I’m shaking the foundations, but you’re wrong – they’re already broken. I’m just the first one willing to admit it.’
‘That’s very eloquent. And yet the crown still sits atop Bess’s head, and the guards still swear her fealty.’
‘For how long? Soldiers sick of fighting go back to the provinces and find every acre of their farm entailed and the rent past due. They move to the cities, pack whatever family they have into a room the size of a kitchen cabinet. They wake up before dawn and toil till dusk for two copper an hour, maybe lose a hand if they’re tired or careless, and on their way home they pass a plump tick in a velvet coat, growing fatter on their labor.’
‘One thing I’ve learned in my time – ain’t nothing so bad it can’t get worse.’
‘You aren’t one for easy answers. I respect that, but the situation is untenable. We bring it down ourselves, or we let it fall on our heads.’
‘Things have always been fucked – you just recently came round to noticing it. The poor have always been poor, and weak, and apt to get beat upon. The powerful have always aimed to get more so, and never cared much how it happens. Your line isn’t anything I haven’t heard before – I could find a dozen drunks at any Low Town dive who could spin it better.’
He laughed. He was the sort of person who could laugh at his own expense. It was one of the many things I liked about him. ‘I’m sure you could. But said drunk wouldn’t have a hundred thousand men at his command.’
‘And you do?’
‘I will.’
‘What comes afterward? When you’ve set fire to everything, when the Old Man swings from a scaffold and the crown is broke in two – what will you build in the ashes?’
He looked at me silently for a moment, the question so obvious it barely merited answer. ‘A better world.’
I had harbored vague hopes that this first part of our conversation would go differently. Perhaps hopes were too strong – delusions might be a better term. Roland Montgomery had never second-guessed himself on anything in his life, and wasn’t likely to start now.
‘You’ve set yourself quite a task,’ I said.
‘Like in the war – conquer, or die.’
‘Of course, you didn’t win the war all on your own.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘There are men in Black House less averse to change than its leader.’
‘Then why aren’t they sitting here?’
‘Because their lives are worth more to them than mine is.’
He weighed that for a moment, then nodded. ‘Go on.’
‘The men I’m talking about can’t let it be known that they’re talking.’
‘It wouldn’t play strongly to the affections of my constituency either,’ he said. ‘Of course, if they aren’t willing to show their faces, it seems unlikely we can reach effective union.’
‘They sent me out here to gauge your interest. Make sure that you’re committed to the task at hand, that you won’t flinch when the moment comes to strike.’
‘And?’
‘It’s clear that you’re prepared to do anything to reach your aims.’
There were depths to that, if Roland had cared to look. But he didn’t – his eyes were on the future, on his grand plans and grander ambitions.
‘I’ll contact you soon, with the details of a meet,’ I said.
‘Where?’
‘It can’t be your territory, because my people can’t be seen with you. And it can’t be ours for the same reason. I’m thinking Low Town. I’ll set up security, some of my old friends from the neighborhood, uninvolved with either side and not particularly interested in politics.’
He mulled that over for a while, then stood and smiled. ‘I’m glad to have you with us, Lieutenant.’ He put a firm hand on my shoulder. ‘A light awaits us at the end of the struggle.’
He nodded at his guard and they fell in behind him, sparing a second to toss final snarls of disapproval. I stayed a while afterward, finishing the wine, then calling for something stronger.
32
The Square of Benevolence was a cobblestone space that stretched out from the Chapel of Prachetas, the unofficial barrier between the Old City and the beginnings of the ghetto. On a brisk fall afternoon it was the best spot in Rigus, lined with quiet cafes where a man could grab a drink and watch the world rot around him. In the height of summer, crowded with a division of ex-soldiers, it was stifling. Sun reflected off the red bricks, sweat stench off the multitudes. Despite the heat there was a festive atmosphere, concessionaires doing a good business in fried honey-bread and chilled tea. No doubt the pickpockets were doing better, though this last wasn’t a game for amateurs. The men who’d filed their way into the plaza had been killers, once. It wouldn’t take much for them turn so again.
From Black House I’d headed over to Association Headquarters, hoping for a few minutes with Pretories. They’d sent me over here, told me he was helping set up for the rally. I didn’t see him, but I did catch a glimpse of Hroudland and his crew stationed near the back, and headed over in their direction.
When Rabbit saw me he broke out of his conversation and took my hand between his calloused palms. ‘Nice to see you again, Lieutenant.’
‘Any day with you in it is a good one, Rabbit.’
He seemed happy to see me. But then he seemed pretty happy, period. ‘Gotta say, Lieutenant, I was surprised when I heard you’d signed up with us.’
‘Fucking shocked,’ Roussel said. He was chewing on a stalk of straw like it had done him evil.
‘I like to keep people on their toes.’
‘Don’t make no sense to me,’ said Roussel. There was a rosy bloom to his cheeks, either from the heat or his barely suppressed homicidal rage.
‘Ignorance is a lamentable condition,’ I replied.
