Most loved Zann,

Lord Clear grabbed a fistful of my neck, and hauled me out of the side corridor. The expression on his face hadn’t changed in the short time I’d known him, but now I could see some differences. He was very angry with me. His face was tighter around the eyes and there was almost some colour in his skin.

“Ordinarily I would have opened you up from throat to cock by now,” he said. “But you’re one of Ellewen’s pets. And I think just barely highly enough of Ellewen not to slaughter his creatures.” I choked and coughed and struggled to breathe as he dragged me down the hall by the throat. “Here we are, I think. This one smells unpleasant enough.” And he threw me.

The light was very dim and I was disoriented. So I couldn’t make very much sense of what was happening to me. I know now I flew through the air, hit a wall, and slid down it into a dark hole in the floor. I bounced down this hole to a chamber at the bottom, hitting hard, hurting my leg.

I lay in the damp darkness, gathering my wits. Lord Clear didn’t say anything. I could hear his footsteps getting quieter.

He was right about the smell. There was something nasty down here. Rats for sure. The rest could just be old dead rats and rat cack. That would be bad enough. And it was dark. Rainy night at sea dark. I looked up to see if any light was coming down from the little corridor beads, but if it was, it was too faint for me to make out.

I had hit the stone floor painfully. I cautiously extended my leg. Moved my foot. It hurt, but didn’t seem broken. I shifted my shoulders and sat up slowly. Scrapes and bruises, I thought, but nothing worse than that. I stood. Unsteady. The floor was roughly flat, uneven. There was some stuff on the floor; I’d figure it out later. Feeling before me, I stepped forward until I found a wall. It was wet. I felt all the way around. It was a small chamber with no doors. It was, I knew, an oubliette. Drop someone in from the top and forget about them.

The things on the floor. I waved my foot around until I felt something move when I hit it. I picked up whatever it was. Bones. Bones and rags. How many dead people were down here with me? I couldn’t tell. One or two.

I thought of you.

I didn’t want to die down here, but I couldn’t think of what to do about it. Call for help? Climb? Find a secret door? Calling for help might work. The other two certainly ought not to. But, whoever came down here? The guards sure didn’t.

People would be looking for me. I was supposed to be coordinating the whole Lord Clear situation! Candur would know something was wrong. Maybe Ambe could find me magically. Wande wouldn’t just shrug her shoulders when I didn’t come home tonight. Ellewen…

I wondered about Ellewen. Why did he send me away with Clear so easily? Did he not know what kind of person Clear is? Or… I almost couldn’t say it to myself.

Or maybe he just didn’t care about me.

And then I cried for a while.

Love,

Ybel

Most loved Zann,

Lord Clear strode down through the staircases and corridors of Comet Halls, with me tagging along behind. We were soon far underground. He didn’t speak to me, even to ask me the way. Which was fortunate, because I had never been down in this part of the building before. We were passing strange vaults and chambers, archways that beckoned and oubliettes that lurked. Lord Clear never hesitated, knowing exactly where he wanted to go. Sometimes I had to skip into a run to keep up.

I hadn’t even tried to keep track of where we were or how to get back. We were moving too quickly through too much unfamiliar ground for that. I had counted staircases, though, and knew we were seven storeys below ground. Lord Clear stopped.

The corridor we were in was about to turn to the left. There were no doors near us. The only light was from one of the tiny glowing glass balls set into the wall every twenty feet or so. I almost asked him why we had stopped here.

“Corporal Ybel.”

“Lord.”

“Stand in this corner, an it please you.”

I did so.

He drew his sword, and pressed its sharp point to my forehead. Blood trickled into my eyes.

“That you are a Rosolla Guard I know. That you are a friend of Ellewen I also know. But otherwise, what kind of man are you?”

I was cold with sweat. “I’m a. I’m not a very good kind of a man, lord.”

“No? That’s a shame. But tell me this. Are you an obedient man? Are you loyal to those who command you?”

I didn’t have to hesitate. “I am, lord.”

“Are you sure? Think carefully. A truthful answer is wiser for you here than a pleasing one.”

“Yes, lord. I am both truthful and loyal, lord.”

“Well.” He sheathed his bloody sword. “I shall hold you to that. Follow.”

He continued down the corridor. I followed, pressing a handkerchief to the cut in my forehead.

Our destination wasn’t much farther. It was a little side passage off a much wider corridor. It led, with an occasional jog to the left or right, about twenty feet with a slight downward slope, to a grille. “Look inside,” Lord Clear said.

“I can see nothing, lord, it’s too dark.”

“I suppose that’s true. Just a moment.” I could tell he was reaching into a small satchel at his side. “Here, take this, and unwrap it.” He passed me a small object wrapped in leather.

I slipped off the leather bag around the thing. It was a wooden box, larger than my hand. The hinged top opened easily, and inside was a large brass key, glowing green.

“Now look,” he said.

Holding the key up, I peered through the bars of the grille. There was a large chamber beyond, with its walls all covered by protective symbols that reflected to me in the green light. And there was a large pile of something against the far wall. “There is something there,” I said. “I can’t see what it–wait, it’s moving.”

It was moving. It was some kind of great animal, that had been sleeping, but the touch of the green light on its back had roused it. It turned and growled, low. Stalked toward the grille.

It was a vast pig, covered in gray fur, swelling in size as it approached us until its back threatened the ceiling. It had four heads and dozens of legs. The stench of its breath staggered me. I didn’t need Clear to name it for me; I had seen enough images of it since I had come to the city.

“It’s the Beast of Crideon!” I said. “How–“

“Oh, you know it. I was wondering if you would. Now do what I say.”

“How does it come here? It was bound centuries ago! It–“

“Yes, very good, Corporal, I’m not here for your questions. Attend. My people cannot do this. Only a man of Crideon. I cannot touch that key, nor command the Beast with it. Do you see?”

“Yes! Yes!” I would have said anything. The great boar was smashing at the grille with its tusks, charging at it. The grille held, but I seemed to feel every impact. Lord Clear was undisturbed.

“Hold the key up–not like that, like you’re brandishing it. You must say this with some force, some charisma. None of this trembling. Better. Now, hold the key up, and say the following. ‘In the name of Kutor the Hunter and Valo of Walls…'”

“In the name of Kutor the Hunter and Valo of Walls.”

“…I call forth the Boar of the Cridiy…”

“I call forth the Boar of the Cridiy.”

“…to visit destruction on all men and women who would rebel against their lawful lords the greenfolk. Be free from your bonds!”

I stepped forward and threw the key through the grate. It passed harmlessly through the body of the Beast and tinked against the far wall. The Boar continued to gnash against its magical cell. I thought that the whole building was shaking from it.

“Oops,” I said.

Lord Clear’s hand was on my throat, leading me away. “Corporal. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Lord.”

“You have told me falsehoods–“

“Not really.”

“–and created a great deal of additional work for me. The first part of which is, how to dispose of you.”

Love,

Ybel

Most beloved Zann,

I thought that one useful thing I could do was to ask Ellewen what he knew about Lord Clear. So I left the guardroom and strolled down to the Public Bureau. Thinking back on it, I probably wasn’t as cheerful and blithe as it seems to me now. But I wasn’t on my guard to any great extent.

Ellewen was the only one working at the Bureau when I got there; Ebe and Rodara must have been taking a break or something. But a lauran, a greenfolk, was talking to Ellewen, and Ellewen was laughing. He beckoned me forward when he saw me.

The other greenfolk turned. He was tall, handsome, and well-dressed, with dark blue hair and a slightly weatherbeaten face. I knew who he was before I knew who he was. My feet made shuffling noises as I restrained myself, twice, from running away. “Ellewen,” I said. “I thought I’d come down and see how you were.”

“Of course,” he said. “Lord Clear, this is my friend Ybel. He’s a corporal in the palace guard. Ybel, Lord Clear, one of my fellow enthusiasts about the land of Crideon.”

“Lord,” I said. “Welcome to Hand Extended to the Dawn.”

“Corporal,” Lord Clear said, in a friendly enough voice. “Palace guard, is it? That would be… the Rosollas? Is that fellow Burrisker still commanding them?”

“No, lord. Not for some time, I think.” I hardly recognized the name. He wasn’t the one before Candur, I knew that. The one before that? I didn’t think so.

“So. You’re still a useful fellow, Ellewen,” Lord Clear said. “As it happens, I’ve great use for a palace guard at the moment. Would you mind if I borrowed yours?”

“You’d do better to ask him,” Ellewen said. “I’m certainly not his commander.” Ellewen seemed easy, even though I knew he saw the sudden fear in my eyes.

“I do have duties to return to, lord,” I told him.

He uncurled himself from where he was leaning against the Bureau. “And that’s why you can afford to come down and lounge your time away with young Ellewen here? No, no. You have all the time in the world. No, Ybel, nothing will do but that you accompany me on some private errands I have.” His giant hand closed over my shoulder. “All well?”

“Your servant, lord,” I said. I glanced back at Ellewen. He seemed very unconcerned about my fate; he was playing with a border-bridge piece and making it walk along his knuckles.

“Ellewen, always a pleasure catching up with you. Do try not to immerse yourself in failure and misery any more than is absolutely necessary. Perhaps I’ll look in again while I’m here.”

And he took me away.

Love,

Ybel

Dearest Zann,

We had a sudden council meeting today in the guardroom. Candur and all of his senior people, plus representatives of the various ambassadorial guards, and the Qualisons from in town. He would have invited the Immaculate Zone if he knew what it actually was. Because Lord Clear is visiting.

Castellan Senrralar told Candur yesterday. I hadn’t heard of Lord Clear but it seems he’s the most deadly dangerous of all laurans. He just kills people all the time. The king summoned him for reasons that Candur doesn’t know but that may have to do with the unrest in Crideon. He’s going to be here tomorrow, and that means that nobody is safe.

So Candur explained the situation to all of us around the room. He told us when Lord Clear was arriving, and when he was expected to leave, and how large his escort would be, and where in the palace he would be staying.

“What does he look like?” Delega said.

Candur pointed at her approvingly. “Tall, well-built, handsome, dark blue hair. Deep voice. Well-dressed. Carries no visible weapons, but many invisible ones. Some old scar tissue around his eyes.”

“Are we allowed to kill him?” asked Lieutenant Praff, using his serious voice.

“That’s not the question,” Candur said. “If you did kill him, it might mean trouble for us, but I don’t mind some trouble. The problem is that he’s too dangerous to fight. I don’t want you trying to kill him. I want you keeping away from him. There’s no telling what he might do. So keep away.”

One of the Amaydyan guard officers, a woman named Wryth, said, “That is easy to say. One cannot keep away from the man if he is talking to a person one is guarding. If he is dangerous, then very good, one needs a tactic that can be used against a dangerous man.”

Ambe spoke up. “I might be able to come up with something. Some kind of charm.”

“You might,” Candur said. “But Lord Clear is also a powerful wizard.”

This produced a period of low grumbles around the table.

Tharus, hanging off of a flagpole above Praff, said, “Who’s he loyal to?”

Candur paused, and said, “That’s a good question. I don’t know the answer. Any more questions? Ideas?”

There weren’t any.

“Then go and get ready. If you want to pass something along to me, find Ybel here. We’ll coordinate everything through him. Anything useful, you’ll hear from me.”

I didn’t mind that. What I minded was the danger. What danger was there in coordinating things with other guard forces? I didn’t know. But I knew there was some. And for a brief second I thought, better me than someone else. Before I came to my wits, I thought that.

Love,

Ybel

Dearest Zann,

I fed Jhus and put her to bed tonight. She wasn’t exactly difficult, but I had to tell her at every point that I was using Wande’s authority to tell her to clean her teeth and change into her sleepsmock. And she didn’t look at me during any hour of the evening. She didn’t throw rocks at me, so that’s one good thing. Honestly, I’ve never appreciated her more.

Wande came in late. She looked exhausted, and was favouring her right leg. I fixed her a pop as she slumped into the big chair. “Thank you,” she said.

“Where’d you go tonight?” I asked.

“Out with Ostavon and Geme. We ended up walking across half the city finding the right tavern.”

“Oh.” I felt a little left out. Why not invite me to that? They’re more my friends than hers, really.

“You would have hated it,” she yawned. “One of Geme’s cousins thinks she can sing.”

Well, that’s true. I don’t have any patience for bad singing. “Do you need dinner? There’s still some–“

“No, we ate at the place. I should just go and sleep; I’m going to be hopeless at work tomorrow.”

So we went to sleep. I did remember one thing before we drifted off, though. Geme doesn’t have any cousins.

Must be some kind of misunderstanding, though. I mean, Wande of all people, on the sliparound? Ridiculous.

Love,

Ybel

Dearest Zann,

I spent a lot of time, far too much time, trying to figure out what to do about that little pissard who was throwing rocks at me. I thought, maybe I could get a spell from Ambe to paste him to the wall and humiliate him. Maybe I could throw rocks back. Maybe I could pummel him up with the stick Srix is trying to teach me to use. I thought for a long time about things like that.

And then later I thought, what am I doing here. It’s a kid. The real answer is both easier and harder.

So on my way home today I came by Council Street again. It was about the same time of day. The boy was on the steps again, with a friend this time.

“See, I told you,” he said to his friend. “Watch this.” And he whipped another rock at me. I tried to step neatly out of the way but it caught me right on the cheekbone and hurt a whole lot. I stayed on my feet and pressed a handkerchief to the wound.

“Fuck!” the friend said. “Let’s get out of here!”

“No,” the boy said, laughing. “You don’t have to run. He’s not going to do anything except fart some more.”

I stepped toward them. “Are your parents home?”

“Are your parents home?” he repeated in a nasal voice.

I looked at the friend but he was silent.

“Well, then,” I said, and trotted up the steps into the roost-tower.

“You can’t go in there!” the kid said. “That’s my tower!”

“Which roost is yours?” I asked.

“Which roost is yours?” he answered.

“I’ll just ask everybody,” I said, and knocked on the first door I came to.

“Get out!” he yelled, and started pelting me with rocks. His aim failed him; only a couple hit me, not seriously.

The door opened. A woman answered it. “Hoy,” I said. “I’m Corporal Ybel of the Rosolla Guards. Do you know which roost this boy lives in? I’d like to talk to his parents.”

“You pissard!” the boy yelled. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“Him,” the woman said. “He lives on the fourth floor at the front. His name’s Ran. I don’t think his father’s home; he works late.”

“That’s not where I live! She’s lying! I don’t have a father! My name’s Wolf!”

“Thank you very much,” I said, and turned to go upstairs. Ran ran off.

Nobody answered when I knocked at four-front. So I settled down to wait. The kind of situation that being a guard is good training for.

Every now and then Ran poked his head around the corner to see if I was still there. I glanced at him but made no effort to catch his eye or anything. I waited there for hours. That was fine. I knew this was going to be a long process. Nobody else passed by. I guess the people on five and in four-back had different schedules.

Finally I heard voices below. Ran was saying, “No, Pa, he’s a robber! He’s waiting until you open the door and then he’ll bust you over the head and take all our things!” And then a deeper voice responding, “Is that what he said?” “He didn’t say anything! He’s crazy!”

When they came around the corner, Ran was with a man, older than me, in work clothes. I could see the resemblance between the two. Same cheeks and brows. Ran looked panicky. His father wasn’t angry, but he didn’t look friendly either.

“Day. My name’s Ybel,” I said. “I’m a corporal in the Rosolla Guards. I’d like to talk about Ran here.”

He didn’t tell me his name. “He’s my son, so he’s my concern, and none of yours.”

“No, sir. That was true until he started throwing rocks at me.” I indicated my cheek and my chin. “Now he’s my concern too.”

“I didn’t throw rocks at him! He did that himself!”

“I’ll see to it,” the man said. “Now move away from my door.”

I didn’t move. “I’m not here to see that he gets thrashed. I could have done that myself–“

“No you couldn’t! I’d kill you!”

“–could have done that myself, but I didn’t think it would help. He’s been thrashed before in his life, right?”

“See here, I don’t know who you are,” the father said. “And I don’t know what want. But he’s my son–“

“I’m Corporal Ybel of the Rosolla Guard. What I wanted yesterday was to walk down the street without anyone bothering me–“

“He’s lying! He’s creepy! He said he’d pay me five pennies if I farted on him! Don’t listen!”

“–and what I want today is for you and me and anybody else who’s concerned to help Ran so he doesn’t want to do things like that anymore.” The man was taking his time responding, so I said, “Might make things a little easier for you, too. I work these kinds of hours too, sometimes. Hard to keep everything in your life arranged when you don’t have help.” I stood away from the wall. “Think about it. I’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll see if we can agree on a plan. Will you be here around this time?”

He gave me a slow nod. “No, Pa!” Ran said. “Don’t let him! He wants to sell me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Ran, you too.” And I left.

Love,

Ybel

Beloved Zann,

Things have quieted down. I don’t know what the greenkind are doing about trying to find the chancellor’s killers, but whatever it is, it’s subtle. And the killers are lying low. Or maybe they’ve already done everything they wanted to do; I don’t know.

It’s easy to expect an entire revolution to happen at once. Sometimes that’s not how it works, though. Sometimes it comes in drips and draps before reaching its full flood. I ought to know.

Oh, the past, the past. I never asked to leave it. The Great Nap pulled me out of the past, though, and now here I am in Crideon. I’m not the person I was when Acea and I tried to lead a rising against Master Gratteck. I can still feel what I felt then, though. The anger.

There’s never yet been a greenkind as cruel or as rapacious as Gratteck. But then when Gratteck looked at you, you knew he saw you. Most of the greenkind I’ve met never even looked at me. They took our country without looking at us. Of course I still feel the anger.

It makes me want to seek out the chancellor’s killers. Join them. Help them, guide them, lead them against the laurans. Strike a blow myself, force the pissards to look at me, tell them your name.

But I can’t. That’s just not who I am anymore. There are things I want more, and if I’m very cautious and very patient and very daring and very cunning, I just might get one of those things.

And I’ll be very sorry if all the people fighting back against the greenkind, the laurans, are defeated and executed. But I can’t help them. I can’t help you either.

Your always loving,

Ybel

Dearest Zann,

First, Wande and Jhus were fine. They hadn’t seen any trouble all day, although they had heard stories from people who had. I hugged them both and Jhus kicked me. Wande seemed to be taking it all very calmly, and she said she wasn’t worried about what was going to happen, but that night I felt her shuddering as she tried to go to sleep.

I’ve since seen Quoon and Fafafa at Kayar’s Tavern. They’re well. Their people too. Ostavon didn’t happen to be around, but Quoon said that he had seen him and he was well too.

There was some damage, though. I saw five burned-out buildings just in our neighbourhood. Some overturned carriages. A dead Qualison Guard in an alley.

We had some crowds clustering around the palace, trying to get in. They didn’t get anywhere; they kept trying to come in between the towers and wandering off confused by all the defensive spells around. A couple of people tried so hard that they ended up walking erratically in circles and had to be rescued from getting flattened by an incoming longcoach in the middle of the road. Candur and I watched some of this from a high parapet and we both felt pretty useless afterwards.

Everybody has questions. Who killed the chancellor? How many of them are there? Where are they now? What are they going to do next? All the crowds rioting–are they part of it? Or are they just people?

Quoon has lived in Crideon for a long time. He says that if something like this happened under the Talistags, the King would come out of Cas Crid and face the crowd and say something. It might have been something unwise or ineffectual, but he’d make some kind of speech. He’d look at his people’s faces. The Valnelatars don’t do that. They haven’t exactly pretended it didn’t happen, but they certes didn’t talk to any humans about it. They just appointed a new chancellor and sat quiet.

(The new chancellor is somebody named Kerinweth. Never heard of him or her.)

Love,

Ybel

Cherished Zann,

My longcoach was just leaving Blackfloors Square this morning when I heard a loud crack! behind me.

I looked out the window. My angle was bad, but I could see a lot of people running around a carriage that had fallen over on the other side of the square. Something was smoking. I tried sticking my head out the window but by the time it was open wide enough, we had turned a corner.

I didn’t find out what had happened until I got to the palace. Everybody was talking about it. Of course they’ve got magic that can send information back and forth to the city; that’s well known. It turns out that some fellows, humans, at least one of them a wizard, had ambushed Chancellor Shonalea’s carriage, hauled her out, and executed her.

You see, the city is run out of Blackfloors. That’s where the mayor and all the councillors are. But now that the laurans, or I suppose the greenfolk, rule Crideon, the Valnelatar family has appointed a chancellor to watch over the mayor and make sure everything goes according to how the Valnelatars want it to. But now the chancellor is dead.

Not only dead. She was killed with a soldier’s spear, and her mantle of office was torn in half and scuffed into the mud. I’ve heard guards and greenfolk saying that this was to signal that humans are at war with laurans, and that humans reject the palace’s authority over Crideon. Which seems obvious, but I suppose they would have done it differently if it was just a matter of intrigue or a dislike of Shonalea’s specific policies.

Candur called us guards together and told us that this doesn’t change anything as far as we’re concerned. We still have the same job to do and we still have to do it the same way. There were a lot of expressions on people’s faces wishing he had said more than that.

We heard rumours of riots and other calamities throughout the city but none of them sounded true. I hoped Wande and Jhus were all right.

Love,

Ybel

Dearest Zann,

Today I was standing at my locker, changing out of my Rosolla pajazuse into my street clothes, when Trall and Carsuaduam swaggered by. I nodded a greeting at them, wondering what options I had.

“Corp,” Trall said, grinning, and tapped his temple like we were sharing a joke.

Carsa clapped me on the shoulder and they continued on to their lockers.

And that was it.

What was that all about?

Love,

Ybel