“What are you going to do about their property?” Emily frowned as another complication occurred to her. “Who’s going to have legal title to it?”
“They are - they were - enemies of the people,” Aiden said. “I think their property will be given to their former tenants.”
Which might open up a whole new can of worms, Emily thought. They need to pay attention to property rights as well as human rights.
She pushed the thought aside as they kept walking, passing a line of abandoned homes. Someone had covered the front walls with placards, informing passers-by that the houses had belonged to royalists and other enemies of the people. A handful of notes were more specific, stating that the owners had concealed aristocrats within their homes and had been condemned to death along with them. Emily shuddered, all too aware it might be a long time before things calmed down.
The streets grew more placid as they walked into the poorer parts of the city, but she could sense the tension in the air. There were fewer people on the streets, almost all men who kept their distance from everyone else. She saw a couple of young girls hanging clothes on the washing line, supervised by an older woman who glanced at Aiden and gave her a very clear warning look. Emily hid her amusement. The old woman had also been fooled.
“The people who live here rarely have two coins to rub together,” Aiden said, as they left the women behind. “We’ll be making things better for them, too.”
“I hope you’re right,” Emily said. The very poor often had more important things to do than plot rebellion. Staying alive, for one thing. They couldn’t afford the luxury of believing pie-in-the-sky theories that promised a new world of liberty, justice, and equality for all. And they’d be very suspicious of anyone from the inner city who claimed to understand them. “Do you intend to let them have any say in their own future?”
“Of course,” Aiden said. “What sort of question is that?”
Emily sighed. “It’s very easy to think you understand someone else’s life,” she said, carefully. “But if you haven’t lived it, how can you understand it? How can you be sure you’re not making matters worse?”
Aiden looked bemused. Emily shook her head. There was no way to explain the gulf between Aiden, the merchant’s daughter, and girls raised in the richer or poorer parts of the city. Aiden didn’t understand...
“Well,” a new voice said. “What have we here?”
Emily looked up, sharply. Two young men were standing in front of them, blocking their path. She sensed, more than heard, another one behind. She kicked herself, mentally, for not paying closer attention to their surroundings. Law and order had been a joke in the slums even before the city had fallen into revolutionary hands. She cursed as Aiden drew her sword, trying to look ready to fight. It was all too clear she didn’t know how to handle the blade. Emily was no swordsmistress - she’d always been better with magic, or daggers - but she knew better than that.
The leader laughed. “A fool of a toff who thinks he can bring his girl here?”
“Back off,” Aiden said. She waved the sword in the air. “Back off, or I’ll gut you.”
“A kiss from the maiden and we’ll let you go,” the leader said. Emily wouldn’t have believed him even if he hadn’t been openly leering at her. “Just a little kiss from those soft lips...”
Aiden opened her mouth to say something, but Emily acted first. She shaped the spell in her mind, then cast it at the three thugs. Their eyes opened in surprise as they saw the magic, too late. Their bodies shrank, becoming frogs. They started to croak, helplessly. Emily shook her head. The spell wouldn’t last forever, but... hopefully, it would teach them a lesson. And if one of their earlier victims realized they were helpless...
“You have to teach me how to do that,” Aiden said, as she returned her sword to her belt and rubbed her forehead. “That was awesome.”
“I think swordfighting lessons would be more useful,” Emily said. “What were you planning do to if someone challenged you?”
“Throw the sword at them and run,” Aiden said. “Father wouldn’t so much as teach me how to use daggers. He said it was against the law.”
She snorted. “And who cares about the law when they don’t?”
“Not you,” Emily said. They resumed their walk. “You really need a proper tutor.”
“And you think someone will teach me?” Aiden laughed, bitterly. “It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Get the right teacher,” Emily said. “And he won’t give a damn about proper behavior.”
Chapter Sixteen
AIDEN WAS RIGHT, EMILY DECIDED, AS she spent four days exploring the city, chatting with the councilors and waiting for the rebels to decide what they wanted to say to the royalists. There was going to be blood. The city seemed torn between hope and fear, between the promise of a new era and a return to the days of slavery. The council’s grip on power was terrifyingly fragile, leaving it unable to do anything but rubberstamp excessive anti-royalist measures. It was just a matter of time until something came tumbling down and started a holocaust.
She pushed as hard as she dared, but she couldn’t get a clear idea who’d backed the rebels. It was clear they’d received help from someone, yet... who? She knew she hadn’t done it, but she was far from the only suspect. There were quite a few self-made men who saw themselves as heralds
