And once again, Tain was left unable to press the issue. Chancellor Caslav had indeed had little involvement in the Iliri estates, partly because it was inappropriate for the Chancellor to be too concerned with his personal wealth, and partly because of the scandal associated with his sister Casimira and her unconventional “family” out there. Likewise, Jov and I knew little of the Oromani lands and affairs. We had other responsibilities, and my health and his compulsions and anxiety made traveling difficult. It was hard to demand answers when we could offer none ourselves.
“There were only three survivors among the rebels, and none are yet conscious. In the meantime, I’ve checked my household staff,” Tain said. “A few are believers, but they were all raised here in Silasta. They didn’t know why the countryfolk, Darfri or not, would have a grudge against the city and certainly not why they’d be calling us heretics.”
Javesto shrugged. “The Darfri religion isn’t about gods or worship or recruiting followers. I knew plenty of believers growing up and they were never bothered by whether someone else believed or not.”
“As for calling us spirit-killers, my staff didn’t know what that could mean. They’d never heard of anyone talk about killing spirits. To them, spirits are a part of the landscape, just as natural as a mountain or a river.” Tain’s tone rang with the same frustration I felt. His servants had been genuinely baffled, unable to help unravel the mystery at all. One of them, who was both servant and, surreptitiously, a personal guard, had been raised Darfri but said other than paying his respects if he passed a shrine, he barely thought on it. Another had been more devout, showing us her Darfri charm necklace and explaining each sigil on it as belonging to spirits that her mother and Tashi had hoped would bless her with good fortune and strength—one for the great spirit of Solemn Peak, one for the great spirit of the Bright Lake, another for the spirit of the land her mother had been born on. To the servant, they were symbols of a connection to the earth and a source of comfort. She had cried as she showed us. I hated that we had made her afraid.
“How can you kill a spirit, anyway?” Pedrag grumbled. “It doesn’t make any sense. Either we’re heretics for not believing in their silly spirits or we’re killing them with our supernatural powers. It can’t be both.”
“Forgive me, Honored Chancellor, but is there any point delving into these daft beliefs?” Eliska asked wearily, rubbing the back of her neck as if it pained her. “They murdered our peace emissary and sent back a message saying they want no peace. There’s no prospect of negotiation. They’ve established themselves as the enemies of our capital and our Council and therefore as traitors to Sjona. That’s good enough for me.”
I couldn’t see Tain’s face properly but the conflict inside him came out through his long pause and hesitant tone. He wanted so badly to protect the city, but struggled to believe his own people could be his enemies. He was a grown man now, but in him I still saw the boy who never wanted anyone to be unhappy or upset. Who wanted to be loved. Perhaps he had finally come across a game he couldn’t win without cost.
“I want to understand,” he said eventually. “I need you all to ask among your staff as well. Someone must know something that could help us.”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m almost servicing my own home as it is—my entire blasted household staff have disappeared,” Pedrag said. Other Councilors added their agreement.
Credo Lazar shifted in his seat. “Gone without so much as a word. Employed mine for years, ungrateful things.”
“Yes, I can’t imagine why they’re not putting your chores first,” Credola Varina said, curling her lip in scorn. “The city’s under attack. I doubt anyone expected they were still required to turn up to work.”
Tain let out his breath, his patience visibly thinning. “I don’t expect staff to still be working in our houses, but presumably you have a way of contacting them? And some probably live on your properties, don’t they?”
“Yes, Honored Chancellor,” Bradomir said. He cleared his throat. “However, what I meant is that many of our staff have fled our home altogether. Perhaps to stay with relatives in the lower city.”
It was almost like our plans were laid out before us like pieces on a game board, and someone was there, in front of us, knocking them over one at a time. Every time we got an answer, it led to more questions.
* * *
By the time I headed back to our apartments I was exhausted. The road seemed endless. I had let myself go too far past my energy limits, and now the way home felt like an arduous trek. Worse, one of the crowd of petitioners lined up along the street outside the Manor caught sight of me, and the disheveled woman peeled off to follow me as I tried to walk away.
“Credola! Credola!” she panted, hobbling after me. She walked with an obvious limp and apparent pain. Guilt made me slow down, though I knew I couldn’t help.
“I’m sorry, but I’m really not able to take petitions,” I told her. “You can report matters to the Order Guard in charge of your sector, or you can leave your issue with the clerk at the Manor at the end of the week. Please—”
Though she moved slowly, when her hand snaked out and grasped my elbow the grip was firm. Too firm, in fact. I tried to pull it back but it was as if she couldn’t even feel it. “You must help me.” She looked back and forth on the street, edgy. “I tried to talk to the Chancellor, but it’s impossible to get time with him, you see.”
“He cares about all of you,” I said, “but you must understand how much there is to do in a besieged city, auntie. Which is your sector?”
“The Order Guards run the sectors, Credola!” The old woman’s grip tightened on my arm. The smell of cheap spirits and soiled clothing wafted from her. “They’re everywhere, and you must stop them finding me. They’re killing us off! Taking us for food! Everyone knows you can starve in a siege!”
I patted her arm gently as I pulled my own harder, trying to free my elbow. “I promise no one is taking any people for food, auntie. I know you’re frightened, but I really do promise you—”
“They come in the night! Only last night, five of us streetfolk vanished, poof!” Her fingers were trembling. Something had certainly terrified her. “I saw the Guard checking on us earlier, in the evening, looking us over like he was measuring us. I hid under my blankets, Credola. I didn’t like the way he looked at us, no I did not. No mistake, in the morning, gone, five of us!”
“He was probably looking for recruits,” I said. “We need all the help we can defending the city. If an Order Guard talked to your friends and now they’re gone, they were probably assigned duties.”
“Or spirits!” she cried, changing tack as if she hadn’t heard me at all. “It might not have been the Guards! There’s talk of wicked spirits coming alive down by the canals. People didn’t believe before, but there were darker than usual shadows last night, you mark me.”
“Please let go of my arm, auntie. You’re hurting me.”
She dropped it like a coal and looked me up and down, terror morphing into scorn. “You don’t care! None of you care. This city’s doomed and no one sees it!”