“I’ve always been loyal.” Bell had tears in his eyes. “Ask anyone I’ve served with.”

The chamber fell silent as Judge shifted forwards from her chair, long fingers sliding across the table like a cat stretching out to sharpen its claws. Sworbreck might blather up a hurricane, but everyone knew it was Judge’s few words that counted.

“It’s true I hear some fine reports o’ your conduct, Bell. It’s how you got the job in the first place. Put yourself in danger to save wounded soldiers. Gave up meals so others could eat. Walked while sick men rode on your horse. Noble stuff. It’d make me weep in a storybook.” Judge stretched further, her black eyes fixed on the accused. “But I weep very easily. You told us you did everything you could to win.”

“I did, Citizeness Judge, please believe—”

“But you didn’t win.”

Bell blinked, mouth half-open.

“Can’t say for sure you’re a traitor,” said Judge, “but I know for a fact you’re a loser. And for a general that’s just as bad. Dare I say it’s fucking worse?” She lifted her hammer and smacked the battered table. “Guilty. Get him to the Tower o’ Chains.” Broad caught Bell under the arm and hauled him from the dock.

Leo dimly remembered a time—a few weeks ago—when there had been a middle ground. Room for compromises, on some things, some of the time. Now everyone was an extremist or a traitor to the cause and any trace of doubt was a betrayal.

“We need a new general!” someone roared from the back of the benches, while the old one was still being dragged to his doom.

“These damned royalists have to be stopped!”

Jurand leaned close. “Now?”

Leo had to smother a smile. Their thinking was more in step than ever. “Let’s test the ground, at least,” he murmured.

“Citizens!” Jurand sprang to his feet. “Representatives! Officers of the court! Thanks to foreign intrigues and royalist conspiracies, we have faced frequent defeat in the field.” He’d always been one of the quickest thinkers Leo knew, and it had taken him no time at all to learn the language of the Great Change. He made a fine speaker, earnest and believable, with a little flush of passionate colour in his cheeks. “Lord Marshal Forest and his traitors should never have been allowed to get the better of the People’s Army. But now our patriots are in disarray. Low on morale. Paralysed by corruption, conspiracy and criminal incompetence.”

Leo glanced over at Kort and gave him the slightest nod. He rose to roar the piece they’d agreed on. “Only five days ago, a group of farmers on the coast near Keln, banding together against Gurkish invaders, were mistaken for Gurkish invaders themselves and attacked by a group of armed fishermen. Twelve men died!” It had actually been one, but nobody got excited over a single corpse any more.

“What we desperately need is organisation!” called that leader of fashion Lord Heugen, now the soberly dressed Citizen Heugen, right on cue. “What we must have is tried and tested leadership.”