The Dragon Round (Dragon #1)(93)

“Yes,” Rowan says.

“What I could do with that,” Herse says.

Finally, Rowan thinks, someone who’s amazed.

“The boy will tell the Council the rider was Aydeni.”

Herse smiles. “Ayden armed with a dragon,” he says. “That’ll put the fear of night into people.”

A roar erupts far ahead. “If our soldiers haven’t already,” Chelson says.

Eles, the other councilors, and their remora—assistants, accountants, and adjutants—are escorted to South by city guards, then led as a unit to the Blue Tower. Why pay for personal guards when you can use the city’s? And it’s so much more impressive.

Ject, Ravis, and the rest of his own guard take the van. Eles says, “I’ve gotten reports of disturbances all night and people gathering, and I don’t like the way that person is looking at us.”

A scrawny old cabbage dealer with a green headwrap and a thin gray beard peers at them from behind a wagonload of crop. Ject snaps his fingers. Ravis knocks a wave of cabbages over him. The man ducks, crying, “My cabbages!”

“They’re worried about the war,” Ject says. “They haven’t caused any trouble.”

“What business is it of theirs?” Eles say. “They have no skin in the game.”

As they turn into the plaza, a roar erupts on the other side and chants bleed together into a muddle.

Ject doesn’t see anyone from the offices in the tower. That is not a good sign. They’re tougher to scare off than squirrels.

“This is outrageous,” Eles says. “The city will grind to a halt.”

“Sometimes,” Ject says, “it’s better to let a person rage for a few minutes than beat him into raving for a day.”

“And whose minutes are they using?” Eles says. “Ours.” The others, huddled together, nod. “I want these people at their jobs by seven.”

Ject says, “Of course.”

“And arrest those with no better employment,” Eles says. “If there is war, we’ll need the troops.”

Ject looks up to avoid looking exasperated.

A guard stumbles out of the crowd. He pulls himself to attention before his general. Ject says, “Report.”

“A mob for the war just arrived,” the guard says. “They’re armed. Those against it are not.”

“Except for fish,” Eles says. “Let’s see them defend themselves with those.”

“And at the top of the plaza,” the guard points toward Rego’s wagon, “the army is stirring up trouble. They’ve offered a bonus to volunteers.”

Eles sucks at a hard bony lip and says to himself, I will not be provoked.

Ject is silently triumphant. Herse has overplayed his hand, and Ject will take the pot, starting with the money the soldiers are giving away.

For the moment, though, he has to bring some order to the current situation. Chaos is no longer necessary. He tells Ravis, “Blow the general alarm. Then we’ll bring the councilors back to South until the plaza is safe.”

Ravis blows. Horns respond from around the plaza. It’s a sad scattered sound. The crowd’s energy hardly abates.

A riot will still be worth it, Ject thinks, even if we take no prisoners.

To avoid the tower plaza, Chelson’s party approaches the tower from the rear. “Only fools take the front door,” he says.

Chelson leads them down an alley to a small courtyard where several carts are making deliveries at a wide stoop. A cook complains about the filth on some cabbages. When she sees Chelson approach, she stands aside. The cabbage dealer doesn’t realize he’s there until Chelson is breathing on his shoulder, astounded that someone is in his way.

Chelson tells the cook, “Buy no more from him,” and goes inside.

The cabbage dealer apologizes to no avail. Herse waits until Chelson disappears and says, “Speak to Birming, one of my supply masters. He’ll need your cabbages.” The man glows.

The cook approves, but warns him, “Tell your man to make sure there’s no filth on them.”

Eles elevates his nose and says, “We will not go back to South or back to anywhere. We will go to the tower.” He cuts between Ject and Ravis and stalks across the plaza. The guards hurry to catch up, and the rest hurry to stay within their circle. Ject reluctantly follows.

Near the steps to the wide porch in front of the tower they’re seen. The tide turns and tips toward them.

Eles mounts the porch as workers lap against Ject’s men and are pushed back. The tower guards knock, the doors are unbarred, and as they open Eles says to the crowd, “Get to work, you useless eaters.”

Ject watches a small silver fish—a boops, he thinks—arc, glistening, and hit him squarely in the eye.

The crowd on each side of the issue laughs as Eles wipes fish smear from his face. They laugh harder as he wheels around and leads his party to the brass doors. Eles surveys the crowd as the Council enters. His expression suggests the crowd has overplayed its hand.

As Ject enters, Eles says, “We won’t require your testimony today, General.” And he signals for the tower guards to shut the door behind him, leaving Ject outside.

Ject looks up now in total exasperation. He notices the huge Hanoshi ravens aren’t circling the dome or perched on the edge. That can’t be a good sign either. Nothing drives them off. He wonders what might have and realizes something.