Page 124 of Play of Shadows

The Mob

The quiet orchard was whisked away like the colourful cloth backdrop of a comedia, leaving me disoriented as I went stumbled across the ducal stage like a blind man. My senses returned to me one at a time. First came the frenzied shrieking from the audience, and the methodical clomping of boots and clanging of swords against shields. I slammed my hands against my ears to drown out the cacophony, yet still the rhythmic bellowing shook me, the thumping and clanging in perfect time with shouts of ‘Juridas Orchida! Regidas Orchida!’

The Orchid Laws! The Orchid Reign!

Through blurred eyes, I squinted at the hordes, noting the dull swathe of common folk in their common dress broken up by islands of nobles in gaudy finery. This motley conglomeration of Jereste society was being sliced in half by the menacing blades of a grey-clad militia marching in clumsy formation towards the stage.

My sense of smell returned next, assailing my nostrils with the stench of too many bodies packed too close together, sending me reeling back. Malodorous humanity is a constant companion to those whose living is measured by arses in seats, but mere moments ago I’d been breathing in the sweet scent of appletrees, caressed by the fresh breeze dancing through the orchard. Now the air tasted foul, slithering inside my mouth and throat, choking me with a nausea tempered only by the sudden sharp pain in my knees that suggested I’d fallen to the polished oak boards.

Saint Ebron-who-steals-breath, I swore, unable to get to my feet again,why won’t my head stop spinning?

You pushed your gift too far, Veristor, Corbier warned me.You delved into memories of Ajelaine beyond the boundaries of my own.

But I failed– I still don’t know who rules the Iron Orchids, and now they’re here, threatening to—

Corbier’s tone was grim.Your enemy does not make threats, Damelas Chademantaigne. This is the endgame. This city and all that you love hangs upon a knife’s edge. Witness how the enemy are positioning themselves.

My vision sharpened as if I were seeing the world through the Red-Eyed Raven’s crimson gaze. The frantic beating of my heart slowed as confusion turned to cold calculation.

The courtyard looked like a giant game board, set with ten thousand pieces. The main column of Orchids wasn’t as big as I’d first estimated; there were perhaps three hundred of them in total. That was still more than four times the size of Monsegino’s personal guard assembled at the front of the stage, but the latter were surely better trained and better led. They could hold off a direct assault.

You watch the bow, but you fail to see the arrows, Corbier warned, and only then did I notice that half again as many Iron Orchids were stationed around the inner gates, surrounding the audience, and each was armed with an eight-foot-long spear. If they turned their weapons on the crowd, they’d be able to drive them like a herd of wild boar onto the stage itself. Duke Monsegino would be trampled to death by his own subjects–along with me and the Knights of the Curtain.

‘Up, brother,’ said Beretto, hauling me to my feet. ‘I fear our audience is captivated by the performance, but not in the way we might have hoped.’

I shrugged off his grip and raced to the front of the stage. Five feet below, Captain Terine and her guards were barring the main column of Orchids from approaching the stage, but doing no more than that in order to prevent what would surely be a catastrophic slaughter of innocents.

‘Why aren’t you arresting the damned Orchids?’ I shouted down at her.

Captain Terine turned and growled back at me, ‘We’re outnumbered, in case you hadn’t noticed. The damned city guards have abandoned the courtyard, and my duty is to protect the duke. Until his Grace orders me otherwise, neither I, nor those under my command, will leave our post.’

I went to seek out Duke Monsegino, who was on the other side of the stage, lost in his role as Pierzi. He was still searching the battlefield of Mount Cruxia for his enemy, awaiting the inevitable end to this miserable tale.

Inevitable, perhaps, Corbier said silently,but what if Pierzi and I never witnessed the true ending? What if the real story happened elsewhere?

What do you mean? You showed me Ajelaine and the children being killed.

Unbidden, the sickening scene in the tower bedroom that had set all this tragedy in motion played again in my mind. I saw Pierzi’s curved blade slicing through the necks of Ajelaine’s two boys, and the sharpened point burying itself in her belly. . . and again, I found myself confounded by the speed with which it had all transpired, the flawless execution, the almost sublime brutality. Corbier had lost the woman he loved and the sons he’d only just discovered were his– and Pertine had lost its only hopeof uncovering the secrets of the Iron Orchids and their shadowy masters.

Was that the real reason Pierzi killed her? To keep her from further antagonising the Court of Flowers?

But Corbier gave no reply.

‘I need to go back,’ I shouted aloud. ‘I need more time!’

On the stage, my fellow actors, their courage proven a dozen times over already, rallied to me. Even amidst this chaos, they tried to hide their fear that I had led them to their doom.

‘What do you want us to do, brother?’ Beretto asked, a spark of hope lighting his eyes.

In the courtyard, the Orchids keeping the perimeter were readying their weapons, ready to spur the crowds into a mad rush for the stage– while their duke, still lost in the role of Pierzi, was waiting for me to begin the duel that would mean death for one of us. His guards, paralysed by their duty to protect their lord, were too few to mount an attack against the invaders in any case, even if he did come out of his fugue long enough to order a counter-attack.

Swords, I thought bitterly, staring at the naked blades of the Orchids in the central column,why is it the fate of the many is always decided by those few who command the most swords?

You fail to see them as I do, Player, Corbier said.The enemy is too small in number to win the day by force of arms. Panic is the blade you must now blunt.

How are a handful of actors supposed to convince ten thousand terrified men and women to ignore the armed thugs all around them?

I felt his shrug coming to my own shoulders. Alas, that is beyond a warrior’s talents.

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