“The Hellmarch was just an excuse to target us.” She shrugged. “The perfect opportunity. After all, we started it, didn’t we? So House D’Aramarin opened the gates and then House D’Erinwa swept through entire towns. They snapped up anyone they could find, put them to Murad’s shackles—made them slaves—whether they’d committed crimes or not. Stocking the House D’Knofra plantations with slave labor is a whole lot cheaper than paying farmers for their crops. Profits galore and no sign of it stopping. I bet you metal within twenty years any Marakori born to slave parents will be a slave from the start.”

“Slavery isn’t inherited.” Brother Qown felt sick to his stomach just thinking about the idea.

“Aren’t you adorable? It’s not hard to force the issue. Lots of ways to do it. And it’s so profitable for the Royal Houses. House D’Erinwa sells the slaves. House D’Knofra runs the farms and harvests the crops. That brings in supplies for House D’Kard to turn into useful trade goods. And since House D’Aramarin specializes in transport, they make metal for every shipment that passes through one of their gates. So clans who ran from the Hellmarch start hearing what’s waiting for them if they come back. They go farther north until they’re in Jorat, but Jorat doesn’t want anything to do with them. Then they hear that rumor. You know the one; there’s a whole city at the top of Demon Falls sitting vacant most of the year. So they drag their asses over here and find out it’s not quite as empty as they’d been led to believe. And the Joratese don’t like Marakori, do they? Being invaded by all these refugees, who start fighting each other as soon as they put down roots, just convinces the fine citizens of Atrine their prejudices are justified.”

Brother Qown caught his breath as men walked down the alley where they’d taken shelter. They had torches and clubs, but nothing edged or bladed.

Ninavis put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

As the people looked around, Brother Qown realized the torches made them blind. If Brother Qown and Ninavis didn’t move, the crowd couldn’t see them.

Assuming no one found the ladder.

A man saw it and started to climb, but as he did, Qown heard shouts and hoofbeats. The whole group scattered, racing back out to the main streets as soldiers wearing the duke’s colors raced by, shouting.