Chapter 85:
Lady Nari couldn’t help but admire, every single time, the beauty of the Green Room. Windows cased in gold against green-painted walls; the canted table in the center, warm and lit up by sunlight; the broadloom beneath, violent with violet threading. Oh, it was exquisite, all of it, exquisite. Lady Nari almost wanted to sigh. How she loved owning beautiful things!
Though, to be fair, she didn’t exactly own the Green Room. For the past hundred years or so it had been the meeting place of the Council. Now it was the meeting place of the Free Serf patrons, all four of them, and Ki’s opening snarl – “A good Uprising to you, I’m here to report trouble” – was making it clear that Ki had no patience left for Lady Nari’s attempts at dominance. Not that Ki’s attitude was new. No, it was the same bristling rage, the same barely checked ambition, the same boring banality. This was why Lady Nari preferred meeting with someone like, say, a Vek, or a Sukren. Strong emotions, both of them, and not for a second tedious about it. Even Sukren’s ridiculous obsession with the Promised Daughter’s well-being had provoked in him quite an enjoyable angst.
Speaking of Sukren… Lady Nari leaned back against her seat’s crest rail. She’d been thinking a lot about Sukren these days, and her thoughts always ran the same way. Sukren had either been kidnapped alongside the Promised Daughter, or he was dead. And while Lady Nari didn’t want Sukren to be dead, the thought of someone holding something of hers captive made her much angrier. Sukren was hers, down to his every cell. How dare any of the patrons – how dare anyone – take from her that which was hers?
“Lady Ki,” Lady Nari replied. “You wanted to report trouble – in Woodheart Castle?”
“Yes,” Ki responded flatly. “People have been attacking my serfs. Tricking or straight out dragging them to who knows where, torturing them, then hiding them in Rajas cells all over the castle.”
“And you, Lord Tyr?” Lady Nari turned to look at him. An uneasy, twitchy man, Lady Nari still couldn’t understand how he’d managed to end up a patron. “How is your castle?”
He frowned in confusion, just as she’d known he would. Patrons didn’t own castles. Their authority didn’t extend over bounded geographical locations. Lady Nari had patronees all over the bio-dome, in each of the four hollow-tree castles and some, even now, in the Xhota urb. All the patrons did. Lady Nari’s laws were followed by her patronees, no matter where they lived, and Lord Tyr’s laws were followed by his patronees, no matter where they lived, even if they lived side by side or in the same barracks as one another. That was how it had always been.
But then the coup had happened, and the Council’s other patrons, all six of them, had been killed. At the time Lady Nari had suggested: Whoever is made patronless by the coup, if they’re in Lost Technology, I will take them, but if they’re in Woodheart, Lady Ki takes them, in Industrilia, Lord Tyr takes them, and in LakeCentral, Lord Dasgu takes them. As for the Xhota representatives, we’ll invite them to apply again and choose among us.
“I mean, of course, Industrilia,” Lady Nari offered.
“It’s the same as Lady Ki,” Tyr replied morosely. “Rumors have spread to the point that my serfs are starting to lose trust in my ability to protect them. They won’t take orders they feel will put them at risk of attack. They won’t travel alone. Some of them are even leaving the castle for the factories and the villages.”
“Or for other castles,” Dasgu added. “Not that LakeCentral is doing any better.”
Lady Nari turned to Dasgu. He and Ki were sitting on the other side of the canted table, facing Lady Nari, while Tyr was at the table’s head. Dismissing Tyr from her mind, Lady Nari concentrated on Dasgu. There it was, that note in his tone, that look in his eyes as he glanced at her… did he need to be reminded of his place?
“Your patronees have been complaining?” she asked him.
Dasgu immediately began backtracking. “Not – not my patronees. But Rtan’s, Yeish’s, Sive’s, them, the serfs who belonged to the previous Council patrons. Those of whom are in LakeCentral, the ones I’ve assumed authority over, they’re the ones being attacked.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Excellent. Just as Lady Nari had commanded. Drinking in the confusion on Tyr’s face, the wariness in Dasgu’s, the stiffness in Ki’s frame, Lady Nari felt herself relax, felt the anger knotted tight inside her chest unfurl. It was not as pleasurable, perhaps, as the kind of emotion she could provoke from her patronees, but any kind of manipulation, no matter how shallow, could be enjoyed.
“So nobody in either of your patronages has been complaining?”
Dasgu shot a glance at Ki, whose furious gaze was still fixed on Lady Nari. “That’s – that’s correct.”
This time, Lady Nari allowed herself a smile. She knew it would infuriate Ki even more. That was half the reason she did it. She also did it, however, to test the other patrons. They’d come to the Green Room, angry and upset, but they’d yet to accuse her of anything directly. Would they continue to throw oblique comments her way? Or would they dare to formally rebuke her? If they didn’t dare, it meant the serfs were in an even better position than she had supposed.
“I –” Dasgu started, but then he stopped. Lady Nari looked at him, inviting him to continue, but he shook his head.
Nobody else said a word.
Lady Nari’s smile grew as the silence stretched on. Tyr was avoiding eye contact now, as was Dasgu. Ki was still glaring but Lady Nari could tell that fear was mixing into her anger. All of them were afraid of her. Lady Nari really had to hand it to herself. She’d known that if her interrogation corps attacked their patronees proper, even cowardly Tyr would bestir himself to rebuke her. But attacking those serfs not quite under their authority… why, any patron would hesitate before putting herself out there for serfs that weren’t hers. Hesitate, and hesitate, and hesitate, then watch helplessly as fear flourished and confidence crumbled.
Lady Nari gave herself a few seconds to bask in the feelings that were now flowing her way. Then she cut herself off. Matterist mercy, that was what was needed now. It was one thing to feed off her own patronees; it was another to toy with the patrons of other serfs, serfs who did not have her guiding hand. For their sakes, she would not overdo it.
Then Ki spoke. “It cannot continue like this.”
Lady Nari immediately met her gaze. “Would you like to be more specific?”
“It will not continue,” Ki hissed, her eyes flashing. “This, all this that you – that is happening right now – you have my word – it will not continue.”
***
Vek was alone. He was reading the pamphlet. The pamphlet, the pamphlet, you haven’t heard of the pamphlet? Everyone was talking about it. Everyone was reading it. Pass it from hand to hand, Anzana to Jethra to Vek, quickly, hide it in your sleeve, don’t let anyone see.
Sisters, my fellow servies and fellow soldiers, I tell you what you already know: the Uprising is not yet complete. It is stopped, mid-leap, stymied by those who are at the top. Yes, I speak of the Free Serf patrons! And not only them! I speak of the Free Serf patrons, and the magistrates under them, and of every doctor-priest and regent. What have these so-called leaders done? Instead of destroying the Golden Castle by breaking its every bone and snapping its every sinew, they have cut off its head only to replace it with their own. The Golden Castle still lives – and its mind and mouth are the patrons.
Vek’s hands were shaking. He stopped and took a breath. Nobody was in the dorm. Nobody was watching him read. He could keep on reading it. But quickly, quickly, before anyone else came in.
The bio-dome must be completely restructured. Everything must be turned upside down. How we are powered must change. For too long have we accepted words from above. For too long have we allowed others to make decisions for us. From now on we should choose for ourselves those who would lead us! Let each squad come together and elect their leaders. No more appealing to indifferent magistrates and preoccupied patrons to be removed from abusive squads. We take power into our own hands!
That was it. That was the end. Unsigned, unmarked, a call to every serf of every castle, or so the rumors went. Vek crumpled it with one hand and pressed it against his chest. Power, power, take power into our own hands, choose our own leaders, oh rock-god, it was the first time Vek had ever read something and been moved by it, it was the first time words on a page had ever touched his soul. The bio-dome must be completely restructured. Everything must be turned upside down.
Vek closed his eyes. He couldn’t get it out of his head. The mob, the screams, the rage, the fear, all of it, pressing up against him, seeing him, knowing him, hating him. Was Vek wrong? The interrogations he’d done, were they wrong?
But Lady Nari gave me this mission. She forgave me, then told me to do them. So how could they be wrong? Don’t they have to happen? Don’t we have to find out where the Promised Daughter is? Don’t we have to root out the traitors among us who let spill the Promised Daughter’s location?
I’ve got to figure this out. Only… what is there to figure out? The Uprising’s happened. Everything is perfect now, and everything will keep on being perfect.
Right?