CHAPTER SEVEN
Thalia’s right about one thing: Selene quickly blames me for the disaster in the colosseum.
“Did you hear what happened?” one man whispers to another in one of the many taverns of the entertainment district. “Lyra Thornwind was so angry at being thrown off the senate that she stood up in the middle of the games and set a razorwing on the crowd!”
I wince at the words, huddling deeper into my disguise as a servant there. I’m slowly learning more about such things from Thalia, and from Alaric, although his approach to disguise is usually to throw an illusion over himself and hope for the best.
Currently, Alaric is disguised as one of the merchants who frequent the place, making himself broad shouldered and good looking, blond haired and blue eyed.
I wonder if the echo of Marcus is deliberate, when I’m playing the part of his personal servant, running this way and that to fetch drinks.
My hair is bound up under a dark wig, while makeup subtly changes the appearance of my features and a hint of illusion has turned my eyes a deep chestnut.
Alaric isn’t just having me run around to fetch food and drink because it amuses him, though. It’s a good way for me to hear the rumors here, and for me to learn what the day-to-day work of the resistance looks like.
“I thought you were all about daring raids and loud protests?” I murmur, leaning in to pour him more wine.
“Ah, it’s excitement you’re looking for from me?” Alaric replies. He pulls me down to kiss me, the movement sudden and unexpected. The shock of it makes me pull back.
“What will people think?” I ask, looking around at the tavern.
“That I’m yet another wealthy merchant who’s gotten too close to his beautiful servants?” Alaric replies, with a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll fit right in here. Now, what do you have so far?”
“That rumors are being spread to blame me for the razorwing attack,” I reply.
Alaric nods. “While I’ve been invited to meet with a couple of my fellow merchants in a back room.”
“A meeting?” I say. “So this isn’t just some improvised disguise?”
“Oh no, I’ve been building this persona for a while. Edrus Glacus. Scion of a merchant house unfairly deprived under the empire and now returned to glory.”
Again, Alaric seems to be making fun of Marcus with his choice of disguise.
“Come on, join me,” Alaric says. “But remember the part you’re meant to be playing.”
I go with him, walking dutifully just behind him and trying to look as subservient as possible. Alaric seems to be enjoying his role, walking with a swagger and looking around with his customary arrogance. In this case, it suits the part he’s playing, his illusion letting him blend in perfectly.
We go into a back room, where a table has been set out, filled with delicacies from around the Republic.
There are oysters and venison, the finest grapes, and jugs of honeyed wine.
A trio of men sits around the table on couches, lounging and laughing.
One has a servant pressed against him, feeding him grapes.
“Edrus, there you are!” the man says. He’s perhaps forty, with thinning hair.
“Tinnis, Salbus, Rok,” Alaric replies, nodding to each of the men in turn and thus letting me know which is which.
Tinnis is the one being fed grapes. Salbus is perhaps thirty, dark haired, and looks as though he’s been in plenty of fights over the years thanks to his roughened features.
Rok is the opposite, perhaps twenty, smooth skinned and slender without any real muscle, with the soft hands of someone who’s never worked or fought much before.
“Come, join us, Edrus,” Salbus says. He looks me over. “And you brought entertainment for us.”
“This one’s mine alone,” Alaric replies, pulling me down to sit on the couch beside him.
I find myself pressed close against him and do my best to look adoring, even as I must struggle to ignore the feelings being so close to him raises in me.
I was his lover for so long that my body seems to respond automatically to his closeness, but I can’t pull away now without it seeming suspicious.
“Lucky you,” Rok says. “But we’re here to discuss business. Did you hear one of my warehouses was hit by the resistance? One of them came running by and my guards just chased after her, leaving the whole place vulnerable.”
Alaric makes a play of looking shocked. I don’t have to feign it. He’s brought me to speak with the man whose warehouse I helped to break into?
“It’s hard to get good staff,” Alaric says. “I hope it hasn’t set you back too much?”
“It’s a blow,” Rok says. “But I have every confidence things will get better. Did you know Selene Ravenscroft invited me to speak with her? It’s rare to get that close to a famous gladiator these days.”
“Impressive,” Alaric replies. “My… companion here is a huge fan of her bouts in the arena. I don’t think she’s missed a single one.”
“She’s very impressive,” I murmur.
“Extremely,” Salbus says. “And not just because of her beauty or her power. It’s what she represents.”
Rok nods. “She was talking about a return to the old values of the city. For a return to glory for those who deserve it. Like us.”
“A return to order,” Tinnis says. “There are so many gangs now. And marches in the street. The scum are gathering, demanding this grand tournament. As if it isn’t already set to happen. Or shouting for jobs and money, as if they have some automatic right to what we’ve worked so hard to achieve.”
I can see some of Selene’s cunning there.
She riles up the common people, making them shout for what they want because they don’t feel they’re being heard, and that makes men like this yearn for the days when those standing against the empire would be put down brutally.
She’s playing both sides of the game of politics, and building support with every move she makes.
“What did she offer all of you?” Alaric asks, as casually as if he were discussing some business dealing.
“Oh, it’s nothing as crass as simple bribes,” Salbus says.
“That might work with the senators, but when we already have money, it hardly makes a difference. No, she just pointed out all the ways the Republic has been bad for business. Take your plaything.” He gestures to me.
“I assume you have to pay her for her services? And there are still plenty of limits on what you can do with her? Whereas, in the old days, you would simply have bought her and done as you wished.”
He reaches out towards me, and I tense, because whatever he’s planning, I’m not about to allow it, even though I know it risks breaking my disguise. Alaric’s hand flashes out, though, snake fast, to catch his wrist.
“As you point out, Salbus, I have paid for her for the evening. Making her mine, not yours.”
“Of course,” the rough featured merchant says. “My apologies, Edrus.”
I wonder what he would have done if Alaric weren’t there, and I’m glad I didn’t have to find out.
“Now, to business,” Alaric says. “If Rok doesn’t have weapons for the colosseum anymore, who’s going to supply them now? Do I sense an opportunity here?”
Rok laughs. “Of course you’d try to take advantage of my misery. But in this case, I can still fulfil my contract. I have a shipment coming in a couple of days from now that will cover it.”
I’m impressed by Alaric’s direct approach to getting information.
He could get this kind of thing from informants, but thanks to his illusions, he can simply be who he needs to be to find the information instead.
He sits and laughs with men who believe he’s a fellow merchant, while I sit quietly and hear all I can.
By the time we slip from the tavern, it’s evening, the growing darkness of the city punctuated by the glow of magical lights and bright illusions that seek to lure people into the finest pleasure houses.
Anger bubbles through me as we walk, Alaric letting his illusion fall, before pulling a cloak up around his face.
“Selene’s building too much support,” I say. “Men like that want her in power because she’ll give them slaves again, and let them plunder the world like pirates.”
Alaric nods. “Which is why Rok’s going to find his ship mysteriously sinking as it comes into harbor. But we have other concerns right now.”
“What other concerns?” I ask.
“The other part of how Selene’s trying to achieve power,” Alaric says, leading the way through the darkening streets.
I can hear people chanting and shouting ahead, the noise of it carrying even over the usually raucous entertainment district.
“Give us the true games! Give us the true games!”
“Come on,” Alaric says, leading me closer. We don’t keep to the streets, but instead take to the rooftops, clambering up onto one via a series of boxes, then making our way across a plank to the second.
“You knew there’d be an easy way across up here?” I ask.
Alaric shrugs. “In the slums, the gangs connect things together like this. They’ve started to expand the idea into the main city, and my people have been doing the same. The more ways there are to move between spots, the fewer chances there are of being caught in some dead end alley somewhere.”
That danger is a real concern for Alaric and his followers. The guards still try to arrest them whenever they cause disruption, and they risk being thrown into the prison tower near the city walls.
Or worse, now. Olivia’s proposal created conditions to let people be thrown into the colosseum again as punishment for their crimes.
Members of the resistance could find themselves forced to fight to the death on the sands, against impossible odds.
It’s a terrifying thought, and one that makes the stakes of what Alaric’s doing all too clear.
We hurry from one roof to the next, finally looking down as a sea of humanity is spread out below us.
A chanting mob has gathered, marching through the city streets while the guards look on helplessly.
This is the other side of Selene’s power, this ability to command the mob, making it look as though all the ordinary people of the city are on her side.
Selene has control of the Senate, she has the merchants on her side, and the common people march through the streets at her behest. I don't know now what we can do to stop her, but we need to think of something.
If we don’t, she’ll impose her vision for Aetheria on the city and the surrounding lands. Whatever Selene’s followers are doing now, we need to stop them.