Cora had grown up here, taken in as a soot-stained little girl and put to work helping the mistress wash bedding and change dressings. When she got older, she’d gone to work as an unofficial courier in the Exchange, delivering messages for pennies as the business of the nation clattered around her. That was where Raesinia had found her, back at the very beginning, when all she had was a vague notion and a burning need to do something. .
Raesinia shook her head and walked through the door. The interior of the old church was one enormous room, its wooden internal walls long ago torn away to expose the massive supporting beams that held up the roof. Here and there, small sections were partitioned off by hanging curtains to provide a bit of privacy. Bedrolls lined both walls and covered about half the available floor space at one end of the building, while the other end had a huge hearth and kettle and a table big enough to seat twenty, stacked high with dirty, mismatched crockery. A group standing in front of the fire was the source of the impromptu concert, which had segued from a hymn about Karis’ mercy to a bawdy song about a young man who couldn’t locate his belt buckle. The lyrics of the latter were mercifully obscure.
There were more people about than Raesinia had seen on her previous visits. A big crowd had gathered in the open space between the table and the beds, standing in small groups and talking to each other in low tones. They looked considerably more hale than Mrs. Felda’s typical strays, who were usually crippled, elderly, insane, or all three at once. These people, though obviously poor, were mostly young men and women, with the occasional child huddling against its mother’s skirts.
Cora was hovering near the edge of the crowd, talking to a group of women in colorful skirts and shawls. She caught sight of Raesinia and hurried over, looking agitated.
“Raes,” Cora said. “You made it.”
“No problems,” Raesinia said.
“And you’ve got. .” Cora’s eyes flicked to the satchel.
“I’ve got everything we need.” Raes eyed the crowd. “Are you sure we should go through with this?”
“None of these people know who we really are,” Cora said. “Even if one of them talks to Orlanko, we won’t be in danger.”
“I’m not worried about us,” Raesinia said. “I’m worried about them. If it goes wrong tomorrow, we could have a riot on our hands.”
“This was your idea, Raes.” Cora looked at the floor. “It’s the best chance we have of really hitting them where they’ll feel it without getting anybody killed in the process.”
“I know, I know.” She’d been the one who talked them all into the plan to begin with. Somehow, though, she hadn’t imagined coming face-to-face with the people who were going to be on the sharp end. Risking her own life-not that she was really risking it, a traitorous part of her mind supplied-was one thing. But we’re crossing the line here. No going back after this.
“It’ll be all right,” Cora said. “We’re going to have Danton ask everyone to stay calm. You know how convincing he is.”
Raesinia nodded. There was an odd gleam in Cora’s eyes, she thought. The girl’s genius had made this plan possible, and she was clearly eager to see it to fruition.
“I suppose we’ve got to do something with these letters,” Raesinia said. “You’re certain we don’t have any trouble here?”
“Oh yes. I know half of these people, and that half knows the other half. They’re mostly friends and relations of our regulars.”
“Where’s Mrs. Felda?”
“Upstairs.” Cora looked a little embarrassed. “I haven’t told her all the details. I don’t think she wants to know. Better for her if someone comes asking.”
“Okay. Let’s get started.”
Cora called for attention, and the assembled people stopped their whispering and looked up at her. Raesinia jogged over to the big table and clambered up on it to give herself some extra height, wishing they’d been able to bring Danton in to handle this part. She was used to lots of eyes on her-life at Ohnlei had been good training for that-but she knew she didn’t cut a terribly imposing figure.
“Um,” she began, and gritted her teeth. “Hi. I’m Raesinia Smith. I’m going to assume that Cora’s filled you in on the basics.”
“Only that we’ve got t’ go over t’ the Island tomorrow,” someone shouted. “An’ that we’ll get some money.”
“That’s about the shape of it,” Raesinia said. She set the satchel down, undid the laces, and extracted a single thin sheet from the stack inside. “This is a letter of deposit on the Second Pennysworth Bank for a hundred eagles. If you queue up at the bank and hand this over, they’ll give you a hundred eagles.”
“No, they won’t,” someone shouted. “Goddamned Borel bankers wouldn’t give a stiff like me the time of day.”
“If you show them this, they have to give it to you. It’s like a contract. If they break their word, none of the other banks will trust anything they’ve written.” Raesinia flourished the letter. She wasn’t sure how many people in the crowd could read, but it looked impressive enough, with a gilt border and embossed seal in the Borelgai colors.
“So that’s it?” someone near the front said. “We just got to take that paper and walk up to this bank? Sounds too damned easy to be worth a hundred eagles.”
“Together,” Raesinia said. “That’s important. Everyone has to go together. We’re going to gather at Farus’ Triumph before the bank opens, and Danton will make a speech, and then we’ll all go to the bank.”
The mention of Danton’s name sent a buzz through the crowd. Raesinia was surprised. She didn’t think his calls for the Deputies-General would have much resonance in Oldtown, where even an eagle a loaf might put good bread out of reach. Clearly, though, a few of those present had heard him speak, and the power of that voice had touched them out of all proportion to their understanding of what he’d said.
Dear God. He could make himself king, if he had half a brain to call his own. Thank Karis we got to him before someone else did. She gave a guilty wince at the thought but pushed it away.
“Why’re you givin’ away money?” said another, sharper voice. “What’s in it for you?”
Raesinia glanced at Cora, who shrugged helplessly. Staring out at the crowd, Raesinia fumbled for an answer they’d accept.
“Because every one of these letters means money out of Borel pockets,” she said. “Vordanai money, back to the Vordanai people where it belongs!”
This got a ragged cheer. Raesinia was no Danton, but, she reflected, it was easy to get a good response when you were handing out cash.
“Now,” Cora said, “let’s form a line. Remember, you need the letter to get the money, so make sure you keep it safe and don’t get it wet. .”
Raesinia entered Farus’ Triumph from the west, having taken a circuitous route over the Saint Vallax Bridge. Sothe had insisted that the members of the cabal not arrive as a group, and that they keep their distance from Danton unless something went badly wrong. Raesinia could see the sense in that-Orlanko’s eyes would be everywhere-but it gave her an itchy sense of powerlessness, as though the thing she was about to unleash was already out of her control.
Which it is, of course. She might be able to stop Danton from giving his speech, but what the crowd would do then was anybody’s guess.