“Right now?” Lodia’s voice came out as a barely comprehensible squeak.
Unfortunately, yes, I told her.
“Oh, but I – I don’t – I can’t – ” The girl was twisting her fingers into one another and wringing her hands again, just like she always did when confronted by the existence of an outside world.
This wouldn’t do. I needed the Lodia I’d seen the night of the Battle of Lychee Grove, the one who pulled herself together in a crisis and acted. Now, how had I gotten her to do that again? Let’s see….
I’d woken her up from a sound sleep. Then I’d told her that there was an army in the forest, poised to attack her home and kill everyone she loved. It really wasn’t so different from our current situation.
Look, Lodia, an angry mob is converging on the palace.
She bit her lip, looked down at her fingers, and started fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve. “I know…. Lady Anthea – she went to…to assist Her Majesty. In managing the mob….”
Oh, was that what Anthea called panicking and running straight to me?
I know. She came to me for assistance.
To my everlasting gratification, Lodia’s whole face lit up. Well, I had saved her hometown, after all.
I don’t know if Anthea ever told you this, but the two of us used to live in the City of Dawn Song. We were there when the dynasty fell. (Sort of, anyway. I, at least, had stayed almost to the end.) So we’ve seen angry mobs before, and we can tell when one of them is…angry enough to threaten a government.
The girl’s lips parted, but no sound came out, not even a strangled squeak.
But precisely because the two of us have seen this situation before, we are in a unique position to recognize it and reverse it. My plan is to use the Temple to pacify everyone.
“The Temple?” Lodia’s voice quavered, but her eyes focused on me, and I could tell she was beginning to think logically. “How will you use the Temple to calm them down?”
She pointed at the window, through which we could hear the din of the mob. Based on the deep, dull, reverberating thuds, pangolin spirits were trying to beat down Anthea’s gates too. But based on the way the gates held, she, too, had hired a mage to reinforce them.
As a matter of fact, I’ve already pacified the rioters around the Temple. We even invited them in for tea and cakes.
“For tea and cakes?”
I couldn’t blame Lodia for her disbelief. Across the street, a wave of humans and spirits had engulfed a mansion and were howling for torches to burn it to the ground. Terrified servants were clinging to the roof and pleading for mercy.
Yep. For tea and cakes, I confirmed. The last missing piece now is for Katu to give his sermon, to inspire them.
(And also to entertain them and distract them from the issues that had triggered the riot in the first place. As one of the Imperial philosophers used to say all the time, “Rice and circuses, rice and circuses.”)
For that, Katu’s going to need to look the part of the High Priest, which means he needs his robes. They don’t have to be perfect. They don’t even have to be complete! They just have to look good enough from a distance. After things settle down, you can finish that gorgeous embroidery! I added when Lodia’s face crumpled.
“Oh…I see. I see….”
To my everlasting relief, the girl didn’t protest that the robes had to be perfect for their first public appearance. Instead, she picked them up by the shoulders, held them up at arms’ length, and scowled at them. No, squinted. She really spent too much time cooped up indoors, sewing in poor light. We had to do something about her vision. I’d discuss it with Floridiana – once we were no longer on the cusp of being bludgeoned or burned to death by an angry mob.
“I haven’t lined it yet, but that’s okay…,” Lodia was mumbling to herself. “I could add a cape – if it drapes like that, it would hide most of the back – maybe I should just finish the embroidery at the waist – ?”
No, no, the embroidery’s fine, I told her before she could succumb to perfectionism again. Katu will be standing on a platform, so no one’s going to get close enough to see the details.
“Mmmm, yes, I suppose if they’re far away, they can’t tell it’s not done…. Oh! But there’s no sash! I hadn’t decided yet what color to use for the sash!”
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If we had to wait for her to pick a color, decide on the width of the sash, cut the silk, and then sew it, Jullia’s government would fall first.
Scanning the room, I spotted a scarlet belt sewn with disks of gold. That! We can use that for now!
“That one? But that’s for Lady Anthea’s next banquet….” She pursed her lips and held the sash against the robes, assessing the colors and patterns. “I don’t know…. Does it really match?”
No, but from a distance, it would suffice. (Wow, was I really saying that?) It was okay. All I needed it to do was to suffice for the space of one single sermon.
Yes, of course! The gold disks will look gorgeous in the sun! It doesn’t have to be perfect, remember. It only needs to look good enough for now.
I nearly added, Time is of the essence, but I bit it back. If I pressured her more, she might fall apart.
“Yes, yes, you’re right. All right, I’ll just sew on a cape really fast and, um….” Her voice trailed off again, but this time it was because she was already too absorbed in her work to finish the sentence.
Perfect! I chirped. I’ll just go talk to Katu while you’re finishing up here.
“Mmhmm….”
I didn’t think she heard a word I said, but that was as it should have been.
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So where was Katu in all of this mess, you might be asking? Why hadn’t he rushed to the front door to demand the news and spew a stream of unsolicited opinions on what had led to the riot, what the government had done wrong and was continuing to do wrong, and what it needed to do to fix the kingdom?
I got my answers when I flew past a sitting room (not the nicest one, which was reserved for higher-ranking visitors) and spotted a maid serving tea to a trembling serow spirit.
“Oh! There you are!” cried the serow, nearly knocking the tea-bowl over in her relief.
I gave her a quick nod, then asked the maid, Where’s Len Katullus?
The maid’s tense expression bloomed into full-on panic. “Oh, please, spirit, if you could stop Master Katullus! He’s going to get himself killed!”
Yep, that sounded like our Katu.
What’s he doing now to get himself killed?
“ ‘Now’…?” she faltered, before she pulled herself together. “He’s arguing with the rioters! Out back. I’ll take you. Please, spirits, you have to stop him. The steward forbade the Back Gatekeeper from opening the doors, but Master Katullus is, um, he’s talking to them. From the top of the gate.”
And indeed he was.
If I’d been a spirit, I’d have heard him from the front of the mansion, because he wasn’t making any attempt to not be heard by everyone in all directions. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“ – Absolutely correct! But this isn’t the right way to go about it!” I heard him shout.
Katu, as the maid had warned, was poised atop the tiled roof of the gate, his long, glossy black hair and wide silk sleeves billowing in the wind. And where was this wind coming from? From all the butterfly spirits who were flapping their wings to stay aloft as they listened to him.
Oh, Katu. Always ready to preach to any audience.
Soaring higher myself, I got a good view of the humans and spirits who were packed into the alley behind the mansion. Some were listening warily to him, while others were screaming curses up at him. But at least none of them were attacking the back gate.
“We must make our views known in a peaceful manner! That is the only way they will take us seriously! Violence is not the solution!” he called, unperturbed by their boos and jeers.
I supposed that all those arguments with the Lychee Grove gran’pas and grannies stood him in good stead now. While this audience was happy to hurl insults about his lineage and his legitimacy and the legal standing of his mother, at least none of them were poking him with canes.
“A pox on the Council!”
“Down with the Council!”
On the bright side, at least they weren’t chanting “Down with the Queen!” yet. Treason would be more inconvenient to deal with.
If only I’d brought Bobo with me. I needed to talk to Katu, but I didn’t want to do it in full view of the mob and earshot of all those spirits. And I didn’t want to explain to the serow spirit why I needed her to put on a ventriloquist act.
The white-faced maid, who was cringing back against the door, was my best option. She’d assume that I was far too grand to fetch a mere poet myself.
Miss, I said to her, keeping up the pretense of courtesy for the serow’s benefit, if you would please inform the High Priest that he is needed urgently at the Temple to the Kitchen God?
As I’d expected, the maid didn’t think anything of my request. Indeed, my politeness made her even more willing to obey. She tiptoed a few steps away from the door towards the gate, and called, “Honored High Priest! Your presence is requested urgently at the Temple to the Kitchen God!”
Startled, Katu lost his balance. For a terrifying moment, I thought he was going to fall off the gate and break his neck, but then the butterfly spirits swooped forward. They surrounded him, supported him with their bodies, and beat their wings to hold him up until he regained his footing. He swept them a deep bow, his tunic fluttering in counterpoint to their wings.
Some of the jeers turned into cheers and applause.
Aha. I could incorporate butterflies into the imagery of the Kitchen God! “The emissaries of the Kitchen God,” perhaps. The creatures were pretty enough, and they were such a standard motif that Lodia had included them in the priest robes’ embroidery. Now I had a more satisfying explanation for why there were butterflies on the robes besides: “Our costume designer likes them.”
While I was busy inventing theology, Katu swept a deep bow to the butterfly spirits. Then he pressed his palms together in front of his chest, as if he were praying before an altar. “I wish I could continue our debate – ” only Katu would call yelling at a mob a debate – “but I must go to the Temple to the Kitchen God now!” Perhaps remembering the song cycle he’d written and all its descriptions of the god’s infinite compassion, he shouted, “All who wish to follow me are welcome!”
The serow spirit, showing more courage than I’d given her credit for, called up to him, “The Temple let in lots of people for food and drinks too!”
Surprise flashed across Katu’s face, but he recovered swiftly and flung his arms wide as if to embrace the mob. “The Temple hath thrown open its gates to all who seek shelter! Come, good people of Goldhill! Let us hie to the Temple! I vow to you all, before He Who Intercedes, that you will be heard! I, the Voice of the Divine Intercessor, will make your voices heard!”
And then, carried away by his own rhetoric, he leaped off the gate into the middle of the angry mob.