Chapters (46)
- Cover
- Also by Django Wexler
- Title Page
- ROC
- Dedication
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Map
- Prologue
- Part One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Part Two
- Interlude
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Part Three
- The Directory For The National Defense
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Interlude
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Part Four
- The Gray Rose
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Epilogue
Except for one, near the front, where a broadsheet had been left behind. It was folded between its corners, to make a triangle. Not the way you’d normally fold something like that, or crumple it in your pocket.
“It’s there,” Raesinia said.
“You’re sure?”
“Act calm.” Raesinia gestured at the tired-looking woman behind the counter, and pointed to the table. The woman gave a resigned wave, as though to say, Under the circumstances, just sit wherever you like. Raesinia and Andy pulled back two chairs and sat, and Raesinia unfolded the paper.
“Now what?” Andy said.
“Now we wait.”
Raesinia’s time with Sothe had made her at least minimally conversant in this kind of operation, which everyone at Mrs. Felda’s seemed to take to mean that she was some kind of expert. In fact, her time in the conspiracy had included very little cloak-and-dagger stuff, until the very end. Mostly it was drinking and talking to people. With Uhlan badly hurt, and the Patriot Guard actively on the lookout for Marcus, it was left to Raesinia and Andy to check for replies for Marcus’ message to Willowbrook.
Andy has a point about the secrecy. She understood why Janus would want to keep the location of the Thousand Names a tightly guarded secret, but she could hardly see how telling her was going to cause any problems. And it would have been helpful in an emergency.
“Should I order something?” Andy said.
“We’d better,” Raesinia said. “Otherwise this will look pretty odd.”
She waved to the woman behind the counter, who reluctantly came over to serve them. Raesinia bought a loaf of fresh bread and butter for a shockingly high price, and a bottle of wine for a startlingly low one. While they waited, she looked over the broadsheet, which turned out to be The Patriot, a solidly Conservative paper and one of the most popular at the moment in the mad whirl that was Vordan’s press.
MORE ARRESTS MADE was the leading article. “Following the shocking revelation of the treason of the Minister of War, Giles Durenne, the Patriot Guards continued their laudable efforts to purge the rottenness from our government. Several more associates of the former deputy were brought into custody, and information he and his cronies provided led to the capture of a number of enemy spies. We trust that the removal of these discordant elements will bring unity to our people, and thus gain for Vordanai arms the laurels of victory that have thus far been lacking . . .”
It went on in that vein, with eloquent praise for the “genius” of the “benevolent President of the Directory” and the salutary effects of his program of public executions. Not mentioned were the arrests among the Radical deputies, except in passing as additional spies and traitors. Or, for that matter, was there any word from the Army of the East, or acknowledgment of its past victories.