Chapter Five

On The Foundation of a Nation

Ariea was annoyed at Riddis, at Bose, the people at the offices who called her ‘Slayer’. She wasn’t annoyed at Agloff, but whenever she expressed her annoyance, Agloff couldn’t help but take it personally, as though she were annoyed at him. He would fawn and apologise and grovel and apologise again. Which itself was even more annoying.

She looked over the top of her book and saw Agloff grinning awkwardly in the doorway. He held a tray of biscuits and cheese in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. He shuffled in, sat beside Ariea.

Ariea opened her mouth.

‘I’m not grovelling,’ said Agloff first. ‘But you do need a pick-me-up.’ He forced the glass of wine into her hand.

He dragged strands of hair over her ear and Ariea pretended it didn’t make her feel better.

‘You’re sweet,’ she said like always.

‘What’s the book about?’

Ariea glanced the cover. ‘It hasn’t changed since you asked this morning,’ she said wryly, ‘or last night.’

‘I’m a goldfish for conversations.’

She flared her eyes humorously. ‘The Ecologies of Lourdes,’ she read from the cover. ‘It’s dry.’

‘The writing or the ecology?’

‘Both.’ She closed the book then, pocketed her glasses and looked at him. ‘There’s a desert along the equator called the Egregious Plain that gets less rainfall than the Sahara, if you were genuinely interested. Thank you for this,’ she said, taking a sip of wine. ‘But I’m not seeing Riddis.’

‘She’s not perfect, I know, but she does the best she can, I think. Yara Poll, Jask, Stone, Fall, Drake. Everyone we’ve known is worse.’

‘She the one to tell you about Poll?’

‘I think the point stands.’

‘We don’t know her dirty secrets though, do we? Something’s in it for her, else why would she be so desperate. And what’s Jask’s will got to do with her anyway? She’s stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong from the start.’

Agloff tilted his head. ‘We can find out. We can always say no.’

Ariea stood and pulled her dressing gown over herself. ‘Agloff, I already did say no. She disrespected us. She let us suffer Erobo, would have wilfully handed us off to Winter if she knew who we were. I just... don’t trust her. And do you trust whatever Jask has left us, me, the woman who killed him? I could live in ignorance, and it wouldn’t bother me. But once I know, I can’t unknow it. It could put us in a position we don’t want to be in.’

Behind, Agloff sighed a little, then followed her, standing. ‘It’s not that I don’t agree with you. You know from six months of running routes together, from being your boyfriend, I’d never put you in a position you’re not comfortable in. I’m just not assuming we’ll have a choice. She won’t leave anything to chance.’

Ariea watched the sun wane, flatten over the distant edge of Principia from their lofty window. A tight feeling bubbled in her insides, like weeds were growing in her stomach.

She growled and it tapered into a sort of laugh. ‘Why do you have to be so...

‘Lovely?

‘Level-headed. Everything you say makes perfect sense and it’s really irritating. Just agree with me sometimes.’

Agloff laughed at this. ‘High praise indeed. Times like this, I wish Marty was around. He was savvy for this shit.’

Ariea sank against the wall again and munched on cheese. Brie, she thought it was. Agloff followed her, and her head slipped across his shoulder. She pretended she wasn’t comforted, but when she was close to him, the world itself fell away, as if it were only background noise.

Then, she scoffed. ‘Can’t believe I’m actually agreeing with you.’ She had never liked Marty, Agloff’s family friend, but she conceded he had a worldly wisdom they lacked. Strange to think that Marty was ancient history, frozen beneath the wastes of the Underground.

Footsteps approached, and Ariea’s head span to the door. Merry stood there sheepishly, her fingers fidgeting.

‘Town guard’s outside,’ she said. ‘Riddis is demanding you.’ She looked back as a shout bounced up the stairs. ‘Less than politely too.’

So, this was how Riddis was going to play it, thought Ariea; strongarm them to her will, for her schemes and secrets. If Riddis wanted them as willing allies, she was doing her utmost otherwise.

At last, she looked at Agloff and smiled cutely, as if to concede some imagined bet. ‘Nothing left to chance then,’ she surmised.

They stooped into the gloom of evening, still in their nightwear. She took Agloff’s hand, escorted to the terraced square of multicoloured houses, where Fort Wishbone’s bureaucracy did its work. Ariea was thankful for the lateness of the hour; there were less about to stare. On the fronts of houses, she saw offerings of bread and pastry, left from the Bashkar Ball to stale.

Riddis had called it the most uncertain of times. Old trade routes were vulnerable and new ones forged amidst shifting alliances and the blight of unhinged bandits. Yet, people feasted as though the harvest would never end.

Was this my doing? she thought. Is this the world I created?

Through it, she glimpsed the dark place Erobo had shown her, a vastness of nothingness. It pulled her down with it, tied her mind in wells of dark thought that seemed inescapable. She didn’t sleep sometimes. And sometimes Agloff reached across and held her, and its terrible weight lifted. And sometimes it made no difference. The nothingness came and went as ponderously as the wind and the rain.

Then, the town’s guard prodded them inside the offices, and Ariea recoiled at the velvet and gold, the shuffling of papers and collared workers in suspenders and unscuffed shoes. It intimidated in its luxury. The guards pointed them below the offices to a vast hall where Ariea thought the Fort might hold functions to flatter the dignitaries of foreign forts. Smaller drawing and dining rooms, stinking of cigars and old people, were annexed either side.

Ellen Riddis beckoned from one of these. She sat straight-backed, regal-looking, draped in the coat of some animal.

‘You needn’t thank us for coming, you left us little choice,’ said Agloff, before Riddis could open her mouth, or Ariea could think to say something worse, no doubt.

‘All the same. Thank you for your compliance then. I doubt you’re in the mood to eat, but there’s meals prepared for you. Please sit.’

Ariea didn’t at first, then Agloff urged her with a begging look. Where Riddis’ plate should be next to theirs, a plump envelope sat opened.

‘Just say what you have to,’ Ariea said. The place unsettled her, thinking of the words heard in its corridors.

Riddis sighed. She pulled the envelope’s contents and spoke bluntly. ‘I’ll dispense with the technicalities, shall I? To say Malvo Jask’s assets were considerable is a gross understatement. They were not limited to: dominion over the cities of Eden, Blocks One through Sixteen, the southern stronghold of Stormdown, the intervening lands known as Winterland, and the assembled wealth and resources of Winter, of which he shared none with anyone. Jask was survived by no descendants, antecedents or spouses.’

‘That’s good? Winter ends with him,’ Ariea said, as if it made it so.

‘Quite the contrary, it has made Winter’s succession messy, and, as I explained to Agloff last night, the status of its land volatile, and highly disputed. An heir to negotiate with would be, to me at least, preferable.’

Ariea could not argue at this. ‘That… makes sense.’

‘Despite Winter’s faults, of which there are far too many to enumerate, it did unite the Colony, after a fashion. I choose my words carefully. I appreciate your feelings towards Winter.’

‘And the will? It names an heir?’

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‘Of a sort. I’m told Jask amended his will shortly before he died. Naturally, the North’s leaders were tripping over themselves for it. Needless to say, this is not the only copy.’ Riddis flashed the envelope up at them. ‘You should consider yourselves lucky you’re under my protection.’

Agloff’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why is that?’

For a second time, Riddis sighed, read, ‘I, Malvo Jask, do revoke all prior wills and declare this my Last Will and Testament. First, I bequeath the estates, titles, and powers of the leadership of the lands of Winter to Agloff Ashborne of Fort Backwater. Should Agloff Ashborne not survive me by thirty days, I give this bequeathment to Abbadiah Thawn, Pilgrim of the Torgan Commune of Winter.’ Riddis paused. ‘He makes other arrangements for personal property, though he had scant possessions.’

‘Jask… left me all of Winter?’ Agloff said, horror-struck.

‘He did indeed.’

‘Is this legal?’ Ariea asked. It was the first thing that came to her lips. All other thoughts were too big to articulate.

‘That is the question. Jask may have been Winter’s founder and ruler, but whether he had the right to simply give it away we are unsure of. Much of Winter’s authority was not formalised into legal text. Long have they adjudicated by precedent. And there is no precedent for succession.’

Ariea stared at Agloff, wondered what he must be thinking now. Here the pair of them sat, Winter’s slayer and Winter’s heir. A pair of kids. How dumb of her it was to think they could have dumb dreams like normal teenagers.

‘Surely, I can refuse, right?’ Agloff argued. ‘Just say I don’t want it.’

‘In theory, yes. But there are two issues with that. The first, I mentioned an heir was preferable to the North squabbling amongst itself for Winter’s land. With an heir, it can be ceded and divided through proper negotiation. Second, is where then does Jask’s successor then come from?’ Riddis’ voice was dark.

‘Ardul at Stormdown?’ Ariea said.

‘Hmm. In my eyes, he is one of two reasonable alternatives, given the other Apostles have been subjugated.’

‘And who is the other?’

Riddis’ eyes pierced her. ‘You, Ariea. As the woman who killed Jask, you have the most legitimate claim to his throne after Agloff. It is the way successions have been settled historically. You have as much claim as Ardul.’

‘I’m not taking it!’ she blurted. ‘Neither of us are. Winter died when Jask died. That is the end of it.’

‘Ardul is a sadistic and vengeful man. He would rule in your stead.’

The aches of what came after that gunshot at Eden tugged at the sinews of Ariea’s body. How many people had she condemned to misery without Winter’s protection? Or made vulnerable by privateers now looking for work in their absence? Every day, she hurt. She carried the hurt of a nation.

Perhaps it was her place: to take it and end it. End Winter and all its consequences.

Agloff laughed. ‘You think me taking this would… what, placate Ardul? Jask did this not ‘cos he wanted me to succeed him. It’s because he wants to suffocate me, hurt me, put me in everyone’s sights, expose me to the whole world.’

Ariea remembered what Agloff said Thawn told him that day at Eden: Jask wanted Agloff to suffer so Thawn could suffer. This was his final plan then. To crush Agloff from all sides as heir of Winter.

‘Ardul would challenge the succession, whether it was me, or Ariea, or you took the land for yourselves.’

‘You seem very sure of that.’ said Riddis.

‘I don’t know Jask, but I know enough. He only ever wanted to make me hurt. If I took Winter, everyone would be gunning for us.

‘Yara Poll is already eager to meet with you. I refuse daily on your behalf.’

‘What would you have us do then?’

‘Absolutely nothing,’ Riddis said calmly. ‘Let them grovel for now. Your indecision is your strength. Like me, Poll needs you on side.’ Riddis spat some curse at the table.

‘Why?’ said Agloff.

‘Is that not self-explanatory? The witch wants you to concede Winter’s land to Fort Spear. She wants to flatter you, win you over. Present herself as the most reasonable candidate for leading a united North.’

Ariea scowled a little. ‘Is that not what you’re doing now?’

‘I want the best solution,’ Riddis said vaguely. Ariea wondered if her elusiveness was to hide her own motives, or because she had not yet decided what the best solution was. ‘Poll has grander plans.’ Riddis reached into the envelop and flashed another document at them. In large letters, it was entitled: On the Foundation of a Nation.

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell us what that is?’ asked Ariea.

‘Poll wants to replace Winterland with a nation. Colony Two would no longer be independent. All settlements, from the Furthest Reaches, to the Old Underground to the Scourgelands, including Ardul’s Winter, would be under the jurisdiction of one authority.’

Agloff eyed the letter. ‘And Poll wants its capital at Fort Spear?’

‘How astute you are,’ Riddis said dryly. ‘She would make all the Colony hers to command.’

‘Is that not good?’ Ariea said this to rile Riddis. To test her motivations. ‘You want the North united against Ardul?’

‘The implications are more than symbolic, Ariea. What if the people don’t consent? Many have never been ruled by any but themselves. I dread to think the wars Yara Poll would wage with a standing army of the Colony at her disposal. The Colony exists in a fragile balance, but it has always existed by the virtue of each to their own. Even Winter allowed small towns and forts to live at their own discretion.’

The more Riddis spoke, the more Ariea could not help but succumb to her genuineness.

‘You are my chip against this proposal, for a free North,’ Riddis said then. Her head dipped at the table and Agloff and Ariea stared at each other.

‘Who’s signed onto this?’ Ariea said.

‘Martell Ragnarsson, Eden’s Acting Governor, Ealdorman Onderhoon of Arwa County, Queen Triss of the Southern Perishes and the entire Southern Reserve. Even the Strawlands and Marlin the Ird of the East. He has the Irdish families’ support. It’s quite the fellowship.’

Ariea racked her brain through the maps she had long committed to memory. That covered near the entire Colony but for Winterland, she thought.

‘Are there any dissenters?’ Agloff said.

Riddis leaned back, wounded looking. ‘Ardul gives no word of support or opposition. Nor do either of the other claimants to Winter.’ She looked at them with a creeping smile. ‘Abba Yondo of Ithma is the only other. But her navy is enough to keep Poll away and she owns no land.’

‘And you,’ Agloff added.

‘And me. But my resistance means very little without yours. I know this is more than a lot, and you have no reason to trust me…’ Riddis’ tongue tripped over absent words. ‘All I can give you is my word that I am sincere.’

Ariea thought. That was all she could do in that moment. Possibilities and solutions chased each other round her head. Each led to a dead end with Poll in control of Winter. Her support was only challenged if they did what Riddis asked: hold out, negotiate, reach a middle ground.

But why did it have to be them?

Why?

‘Could you not agree to her plans?’ mooted Agloff then. He sat in a thorny pose. ‘But convince the other leaders to remove Poll after you’ve dealt with Winter’s land?’

‘Considered and disregarded. There’s too many links in that chain. I have a strong relationship with none of them, and it would take only one to confide in Poll.’

‘What if we concede the land to you?’ Ariea said. She stood and started to pace the table. Riddis’ eyes followed and Agloff watched.

‘To me? You have no reason to trust I would be any different to Fort Spear.’

True, Ariea thought, but what alternative was there. No matter Riddis’ intentions, they seemed more honest than Poll, and this could remove Ariea and Agloff from the whole dreadful business all the quicker.

‘If me and Agloff were in agreement, there could be no disputing it, could there? Because we both have a strong claim to Winter, so if we agree no one has grounds to argue. You could use the time that gives you to work with the others to get them onside, tone Poll down.’

‘You are right,’ Riddis said. ‘But there is problem there. I control Winter’s lands, but on the say so of two teenagers—’

‘Who are heirs to Winter!’

Riddis raised her hand. ‘Let me finish. On the say so of two teenagers who live in this Fort only by my good graces. With nothing in writing, who is to say that concession stands.’

‘We’ll sign a contract,’ Ariea spluttered.

‘Binding according to whom? Not Poll, not Arwa County or the Southerners. Who’s to say I didn’t threaten or coerce you into signing it? It could be disputed on any number of points. No, good suggestion that it is, even if you gave Winter over to Wishbone, even temporarily, you would have to show face, give them no grounds to contest it.’

Ariea felt her cheeks pale. ‘Show face? Where?’

‘Poll has convened a meeting of the Colony at Eden. Everyone is attending, including Ardul. I am reluctant to say, you both must go.’

Ariea was furious. Heat flushed down her spine and it took great effort just to stand still. Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure who she was angry at; she was just angry. But what good did saying ‘no’ do? She sank back into her chair, scowled like a moody child.

‘Whether it is your decision to sign Winter over to Wishbone’s council, to Poll or, dare I say, rule it yourselves, you must do it in full view of them all. Give them no reason to doubt you. I’m sorry it has to be this way.’

Agloff looked up at her, grunted, ‘It’s not your fault, is it. You don’t have to say sorry.’

‘I do… because I am the one putting you in this position. Believe me, I exhausted every option before summoning you here.’

Ariea felt a sickness well in her throat at the thought of treading Eden’s ground again. It was the most awful place, where the world nearly ended. It was a jungle of grey and concrete and disease. Even free of Winter, she thought she would never return.

But now, the world compelled her back because she ‘must’, but what did that mean?

‘The first thing I said,’ Ariea said then, ‘was that we weren’t taking it.’ She looked at Agloff who’s look did not dissuade her from continuing. ‘What happens, in black and white, if we renounce our claim?’

Riddis tremored. ‘I won’t allow that. You’ll be detained. The cost is too great.’

‘How can you when we command Winter until you do. You have no power over us.’ Ariea spoke cold and dark. ‘You showed your hand already.’

‘Quite the impasse then.’ Riddis straightened herself and leaned across the varnished table. ‘If you renounce the lands and titles of Winter, Ardul would be left its only claimant, meaning any landgrab made by Spear or Wishbone or anyone is illegal. Each would retaliate with their own landgrabs, determined not to lose out on a piece of the pie. Like dominoes falling, the Colony would find itself at war. Even then, you would have to renounce your claim at Eden. There is no way out of this for you, with or without my help.’

It was a strange kind of power to have, over countless possible futures. The turnings of the world turned on the thoughts in their heads. The people had no idea their fate was held in this place. Between oaken furniture and silken draperies. But, Ariea thought, such was the nature of power.

‘This is what Jask’s death created,’ Riddis continued. The skirmishes that followed condemned Winter to the South for now. But it’s not sustainable, not indefinitely.’ She stood. Her cloak fell across the lines of her body like liquid. ‘Think it over. I suppose the decision is yours. You have eight days. That’s when our company leaves for Eden.’

How can eight days be enough to decide? Ariea thought. How can any time be enough? They followed Riddis to their feet and skulked to the doorway to the open function hall.

Why does it have to be us? She thought again, always, on a loop inside her head, as it had been for the last six months, the last eight hundred and nine years.

‘I have one question,’ Agloff said, stopping in the doorway. Ariea looked back at him and Riddis, who was parcelling her papers away under her arm.

‘Yes?’ the councillor said.

‘Was there a name for the new Colony? Yara Poll’s nation, I mean?’

‘There are several she suggests.’

‘Ahh. Does she have a favourite?’

‘Noon.’

They merely nodded. Ariea then let him take her hand. Noon. Funny name.