The common room was fully dark except for glowing coals when I awoke. The oil lamps within were long since wicked down. Not even their scent remained in the room’s close, stale air. The Tavernkeep’s place had no windows on the ground level, but I was sure dawn had not yet stolen into the skies outside.
A number of my countrymen slept on the floor-more than I’d seen last night. Either the Dancing Mistress’ delegation had returned, or some of those upstairs had descended once more to the common room. I’d have woken up to any raucous party, though.
The door was barred when I checked it. Interesting. To the best of my knowledge, the Tavernkeep didn’t really keep closing hours. At least he had not done so in the past.
I slipped the bar, cracked open the door, and peered outside. My breath steamed in the air. Several inches of snow blanketed the ground, the last of yesterday evening’s tracks filled in to soft hollows. The sky above was crystal sharp, stars glinting like knife points through velvet. No one watched. The whole city might have been asleep.
Perfect. This quiet morning would find me making trouble in a very public fashion.
It did not take me long to visit the privy at the back of the tavern. Then I put some fresh coals on the quiescent fire, poked it to life, and took up my pot and my spoon. I was not much for speeches, the Lily Goddess knew, but I needed these men. And I would be shameless about their need for me, or at least for Endurance. Mother Green, indeed.
I began walking among the sleeping men, banging the implements together and shouting in Seliu:
“Up, up, up! You are my army for today. In the name of the ox god Endurance and all good men of Selistan, up, up up!”
I went on in that vein for several minutes, until three dozen bleary, hostile faces glared at me.
“You know who I am.”
Nods and mumbled agreement.
That was inspirational. I continued, glad I’d never thought to train for a Temple Mother. They had to speak. “You also know the Prince of the City is here, to oppose my work and snatch me back to Kalimpura.”
Those words brought a more puzzled blankness.
“They are here,” I said, “to take us all home. Whatever brought you to Copper Downs will not matter to the Street Guild. This embassy is rounding up strays. I am the most famous of Kalimpura’s runaways, but I am far from the only one they seek to box and take home on the hold of their ship.”
Now I had their attention, along with murmured discontent and more eye rolling.
“We’re going to take the fight to the popinjay and his bastards.” Once more I whapped the spoon against the pot for emphasis. Grasp their attention, keep it. Like sheep after a goat, men would follow anyone with strong words and a bright sword. “ All of us. For your sake. For mine. For the god Endurance. And for everyone who came here because they could never find their way out of one life into a better one back in Selistan.” My voice dropped, I almost hissed the next words. “I know what this means to you. To all of us. And we will not be pushed.”
Bleary, confused, the gathered men muttered agreement as they adjusted their clothing and scratched their nethers. I was the only woman here, but they all knew me. I was famous among my countrymen here in Copper Downs. Every one of this group had somehow found the gumption and resources to cross the Storm Sea. I wondered how long it would take them to open shops, or locate a trade they could work their way into, then send back for brothers, wives, children, cousins. In that moment I could see half a generation into the future. A wave of dark brown faces would be living here because the social powers of this place could not force the lowborn into a lifetime of hard labor for tiny reward, as did the guilds and courts back in Kalimpura.
Copper Downs relied on force of habit and the shame of class to keep people down. To someone from a caste society, that was an open door.
“ You will not be pushed,” I said, keeping my voice low. “ You left our home for something better. Are you ready to be forced back on someone else’s whim?”
“What do you want us to do?” shouted one of the men. He could just as easily have been my father’s brother, from the set of his nose and eyes. A Bhopuri.
I smiled at him. “Stand before the Selistani embassy. Follow them in a group when they venture out. Do not let the Prince of the City and his lackeys pass back and forth unnoticed. Embarrass them.” I did not want the embassy to take ship yet-they could not-but this group were not the ones to stop them. Slow them, yes. “If they look to be packing out to the harbor, send swift word to me. Let the Rectifier know. They cannot be allowed to leave without first being called to account.”
That was as close as I dared approach the truth of what I wanted. I could scarcely raise an army here, but I could and would harass Surali and her minions.
“Remember,” I added, “you will not be pushed.” That was not much of a slogan, but it was what I had that morning. Mother Vajpai would have done much better. Mother Meiko would have just terrified them into submission without a word. Me, I had to argue with an eloquence borrowed from only the gods knew where.
So far as arguing went, it took me another half hour of chivvying and tea and cold rice to cozen them out the door into the snow. I finally sent my ragged band marching toward the Selistani embassy. Let Surali and the Prince of the City deal with this -two dozen grumpy men who would just stare morosely without raising a fist, standing with the quiet, sullen anger of the poor and disaffected, while their Velviere District neighbors watched nervously from behind lace curtains and rang for their own guards.
I wanted to betray their stealth. Therefore, their stealth I would betray.
The street in front of the mansion housing the Selistani embassy was a mass of slush. Some fairly large group had passed by here overnight. My heart caught a moment. Was I too late?
But two Street Guild men remained stationed at the gate. This morning their blades were naked. One bore a strung crossbow, which was not the best idea in the damp. They looked terribly uncomfortable in the freezing light of day. The Prince, or at least some of his household, were presumably still in residence.
“Gather in the street and watch the gate,” I said. “Don’t block traffic.” It was winter, and miserable, but if this little picket lasted even a few days, that might be enough. I tugged at the elbow of a man who could have been my uncle. “What is your name?”
“Harun, Mother Green.” He stifled a yawn.
“Keep this up three days, and I will make it worth your while.” I had no idea what I meant by that, but right now my promises were worth more than my purse. “I must slow them down. And if anything unusual happens, for the love of Endurance, please let me know.” As if anything were usual here and now.
He made his right hand into the horns of an ox. “Of course, Mother.”
“What was that?” I imitated Harun’s gesture.
The ox again, flashing and gone. “The sign of the god Endurance. We make it that we might know one another in the street.”
I couldn’t decide whether that was worrisome or inspiring. In either case, I let the business pass. “Observe as I talk to the guards. Then I’m off again. I’ll check back here. If you need to, send word to me at the Temple of Endurance.”
Harun looked dubiously at his huddled mass of watchers. “Three days? The city guard will run us off.”
“I’ll take care of the watchmen,” I said. Another promise. The actual street patrols, such as they were, reported to the Interim Council. The Conciliar Guard under that snake Lampet were another matter, of course. I didn’t think they’d turn out in force for something like this. As for the hired guards here in the Velviere District, they were small, independent units unlikely to pick a fight with a large group so long as my lads didn’t start freelancing about the neighborhood.