Episode 35

The system of power turns like wheel

You can rise to the top through money or steel

You could lift up others or leave them in muck

But it’s the poor who will suffer when the wheel becomes stuck

If the problems aren’t met with any solution

The wheel must turn in bloody revolution

The vermin will rise as the predator sinks

Let’s see then if the fox can outsmart the lynx

The day after the Summer Ball was thankfully cooler than the days that had preceded it. Traditionally the ball marked the end of Summer and so this seemed oddly appropriate. It was as if even the seasons themselves were also subject to the will and whims of Empress Sylvia. Lilian had woken early and gone to work. Her feet ached from so much standing around in unfamiliar shoes the night before. The few green leafed trees inside the city walls were starting to show signs of turning. Patches of yellow and caramel brown dotted Lilian’s journey to The Gilded Garden. Mr Twitchett was in a good mood and Lilian longed to tell him all about her encounter with the Empress, but she knew better than to get him involved. The fewer friends she had mixed up in that strange and dangerous world, the better. They talked of travel, of his son’s work in Zandt and how Doma had apparently been a popular tourist destination in his youth, but since the revolution there, no one from Freedos ever went. Lilian swept the floors and dusted the displays. At mid-morning she was sent to collect a sack of cedar dust from the market and when she returned she found that Mr Attorcop had visited the shop in her absence. 

“That bald, bearded fellow you know stopped by.” said Mr Twitchett, taking the heavy, hessian sack from Lilian.

“Oh? Did he leave a message?” Lilian could hardly wait to tell Mr Attorcop all about the party.

“Yes, he said to go to the basement for seventh bell.” Lilian smiled and set about replacing various tools in the back room of the shop. She found herself rushing her various tasks eager for the workday to be over and hopeful that Mr Twitchett might let her go early if she was quick. At one point, she slammed a draw filled with razor knives and looked up to check if Mr Twitchett needed help with anything. He was sitting on the old armchair behind the shop’s service table, gazing distractedly into the middle distance. Lilian had to crane her neck round the door leading to the back room to see him. He was an older man but he was unusually active for someone his age. It was strange then to see him sitting so still. Lilian felt a pang of worry.

“Mr Twitchett?” she asked, approaching him slowly. He didn’t seem to notice her at first so she stepped closer. “Are you alright sir?” This caught his attention and he snapped out of his daydream and looked at Lilian.

“Hm? Oh. Yes, yes. Quite alright. It’s just… a funny feeling.” Lilian was curious. Their relationship had always been one of courteous professionalism, but she sensed he had something heavy weighing on his heart. 

Lilian dipped into the back room and poured him a cup of tea. His favourite was the infusion of lemongrass with just a drop of honey. She placed the clay mug in front of him and he muttered his thanks. The movement of the steam and swirling of the liquid seemed to send him back into a memory. Lilian waited patiently, knowing that he was nearly ready to speak. He took a sip of tea, smiled and started to talk. 

“I was a young man when the emperor died. The months leading up to it were… difficult. People were stretched to breaking, tired, overworked, underpaid. Fights broke out regularly and he did nothing to stop them. Your friend, what is it? Attorcop. He was there too. I didn’t know him, I suppose I still don’t but I remember his face. He was a fighter. Him and that Checkad woman. Something about seeing him today, the atmosphere outside this morning. It all feels so... familiar. Like I’m twenty-seven again and change is in the air.” Lilian waited, unsure of what to say. Mr Twitchett had gone back to staring out of the window. 

“Change can be a good thing.” She said, hoping to restart the conversation. 

“Hm? Oh yes, yes. It can be. But change is often difficult. We grow old and begin to ache. We try to find happiness and encounter heartbreak. For clay to become a cup, it must first be bashed and contorted and then forced into a furnace. One does not fear the result of change, one fears the process.” Lilian looked up at the shop filled with silent staring birds and beasts, perfectly preserved and unchanging. 

By the time he finished his tea Mr Twitchett was back to his normal self, muttering nonsense and shuffling around his shop. The rest of the day passed by without any more musings on the past. Lilian thought about asking him questions but his brief trip down memory lane seemed to have been quite upsetting so she didn’t want to bother him with trying to recall any more details. Besides, it was almost fifth bell and Lilian was almost off work for the day. 

After eating a hearty meal of beef and dumpling stew in the inn round the corner from work Lilian made her way towards Mr Twitchett’s basement storage building to meet Mr Attorcop. They had spent the past couple of weeks cleaning and converting the basement into a livable workshop where Mr Attorcop could continue his research away from his attic residence. Lilian assumed he would eventually go back to the attic, but for now it was still too dangerous, having been the scene of an intrusion, destruction and assault on Fritha a little less than a month ago.

She walked into the dark, tin roofed structure and found the trapdoor. She was eating a sticky, cinnamon bun she had bought from Winnie’s bakery on her way over and so used her free hand to grip the iron ring set into the floor and pull it up. The warm glow of candlelight spilled out from the hole and Lilian gingerly descended the rickety steps, shutting the trap behind her as she did. She ducked her head and peaked into the large room. To her surprise there were quite a few faces that turned to greet her. The first she saw was that of Mr Attorcop who smiled when he saw her. A happy, jangling sound came from behind him and Fritha emerged and ran towards her. 

“Hello lady!” Lilian squealed in delight as she was nearly bowled over by the feinhound’s massive body. Fritha cycled between bright purple and sunshine yellow, her coat expressing the joy that words could not. Lilian felt her big tongue lash her cheek and giggled as she tried to calm her furry friend. It took a bit of cinnamon bun to distract Fritha enough for Lilian to greet the other people in the basement. 

“Lilian, you remember Katrina.” Mr Attorcop, gestured to a tall, red-haired woman sitting on an ornate wooden chair. She smiled and nodded.

“Hello again my dear. Hair looks lovely.”

“I tried the stuff you gave me!” replied Lilian as she walked over to the group from the steps. 

“I can see!” 

“Hi Peter!” Lilian noticed Katrina’s son sitting by his mother’s side. He wore a brown waistcoat with a dried pink rose in the lapel. He raised himself slightly off his chair and performed a small bow before sitting back down.

“Miss.” Lilian thought the act rather formal, but was happy to see him there. 

She looked around the small circle of chairs. Her friend Katherine was there smiling sweetly and dressed in a light blue dress. She was sitting next to William whose hands were stained with ink, no doubt from the printing press where he worked. He gave her a small wave and Lilian smiled, happy to see him. 

“It’s so lovely to see you all!” said Lilian, beaming and brimming with excitement. 

“Well we’re happy to see you too!” said Katherine. “How are you? How was the party?” Lilian was about to take a seat and answer her question when Mr Attorcop put his hand up to stop her. 

“Just a moment, Lilian. Before you start, we’re waiting on one more person.” Lilian looked back to Katherine who shrugged her shoulders. 

“Oh don’t tell me…” Katrina’s face fell as she spoke. She was wearing pearls around her neck and bangled earrings that shook when she turned her head. She was as glamorous as when Lilian had first met her in the rare flower market. “Cromwell, I thought he was back in Zandt.”

“He was.” Mr Attorcop replied, “But it appears as though he’s back. I ran into him a few days ago. Or, more accurately, he ran into me.” Lilian went to take a seat next to Katherine who shot her a sly wink, equally in the dark as to who it was who was supposed to be joining them. Lilian raised her hand to take a bite of her bun but found nothing there to bite. She shot Fritha an accusing stare. The feinhound licked her lips and pointedly avoided meeting her eye. 

Just then there were three loud knocks. They came from the trapdoor and boomed throughout the basement. 

“Oh here we go.” muttered Katrina. Lilian detected a weary groan in her voice. 

“Please be civil Kat.” 

“I’ll be civil if he isn’t such an…” Her argument was cut off by the sound of the trapdoor opening. Its hinges squeaked and Lilian looked over to see a beam of light from the outside pierce the relative darkness of the basement. Strange. She thought, I don’t remember it being that bright out. The golden beam picked up flecks of dust in the air, making them sparkle in the light like little daytime stars. A voice drifted down the stairs. It was as enthusiastic and bright as the light that heralded it. 

“Hello? Is there anybody there? Little rabbits, hiding in a hole?” Lilian saw a pair of black leather boots with a thick wooden wedge heel appear at the top of the steps. 

“We’re here, Zadoch, come down and shut the trap behind you please.” Mr Attorcop addressed the boots. His request was met with a frilly laugh and the squeak of the trapdoor hinges. The boots became legs dressed in white cotton, they then led up to the tails of a white coat with gold trimming and bright buttons. Finally the smiling face of a man appeared. He was roughly the same age as Mr Attorcop and had tanned skin and sandy hair. His most striking feature however were his eyes. Lilian could not see their exact colour from this distance but they were bright and seemed to sparkle. What was stranger however was despite the sound of the trapdoor closing behind him, the amount of light in the room remained the same as when it had been opened. 

“Well hello little rabbits. Just like you Cromwell to find the darkest hole in Freedos in which to hide. It’s a beautiful day out, why don’t we step into the sun?” His voice had a vibrant quality to it. 

“In good time, please join us in the circle for now.” Mr Attorcop gestured for the man to cross the space and join the group. He seemed hesitant. Glancing back up the stairs to the trapdoor now and again as he made the journey. 

“Silly hidey-holes. I care not for this dark dampness. Little rabbits. Let me look at you. Ah! A fish is amongst the rabbits! What a strange and wonderful sight to see.” The man called Zadoch looked at Katrina when he mentioned the fish. The comment produced a wry smile from her.

“Hello Zadoch, it’s been a while. I see you’ve become a pater.” The man glanced down at his official looking coat, Lilian could see a symbol stitched in gold thread on the breast pocket. It was a blazing sun, sewn in intricate detail.

“Ah yes!” he responded, “The Church saw fit to promote me. Years of faithful service finally recognised.” His eyes darted around the circle. “Your boy Peter! All grown up and clever like his mother. And who are these little rabbits?” Mr Attorcop took on the introduction duties.

“Zadoch, this is William Lincoln and Katherine Brown.” They both smiled and waved as the man bowed deeply whilst flicking and flourishing his right hand in looping circles until it touched the floor. 

“Salutations young ones.” Mr Attorcop then gestured to Lilian.

“And this is Lilian Lausanne. Everyone, meet Zadoch Korshid.” The man turned to look at Lilian. As he approached she could see small flecks of brilliance in his eyes. They were not just bright, something in them was reflecting the light. Like small flecks of gold in a stone. 

“Ah,” he said, “the little moon madame. I hope this old goat is not treating you too harshly. All that sitting around in the dark, don’t forget to enjoy the sunshine every now and again hm?” The man grinned slyly and Lilian smiled.

“That’s alright, I quite enjoy sitting in the dark.” The man made a show of rolling his eyes and tutting jokingly.

“Of course you do. Now it’s always a pleasure to meet Cromwell’s friends but I’m assuming that is not the only reason I am here. Hm? Who needs my help?”

“No one Zadoch, we are not asking for your help, I want that to be very clear from the start.” Lilian wondered why Mr Attorcop had cut off his friend so harshly, surely he was just being friendly? Zadoch whipped his white coat tails out from under him and sat down.

“How very boring,” he said, almost to himself. “I can already tell this meeting is going to be a barrel of laughs.” Katrina interjected,

“If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.” 

“Enough, you two.” Mr Attorcop’s tone was stern, like that of a scolding school master. Zadoch stuck his tongue out at Katrina and Lilian got the distinct impression that these three had known each other for a very long time. 

Now that everyone was gathered, attention turned to Mr Attorcop. He pulled up a rickety wooden chair and sat down. 

“As most of you know, last night was the summer ball up at the palace. Our friend Lilian here managed to receive an invitation. This was fortuitous as we’ve been investigating the court houses, believing them to be the home of the blacksmith who makes these brooches.” He pulled out the silver hand and held it up for the group to see. There were creaks of wood on wood as a couple of people pulled their chairs closer to have a look. Katrina held out her hand.

“May I see that?” Mr Attorcop handed it to her and continued.

“The reason for the investigation is that we have found or seen these brooches in several different situations over the past year, all of them bad. That one was left on the floor of my attic after a break in. The attackers stole several vials of Lunar essence and some bottles of a horrible substance called nightshade, which I care less about. The worst crime was the injuries inflicted on our furry friend over there.” He gestured to Fritha who had found a soft carpet a few feet behind Lilian and was currently lying down, eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“My skies,” muttered Zadoc, “Is that…?”

“A feinhound. Yes. It became quite attached to Lilian in Benlunar and followed us on our journey to Freedos. I do not know why someone wanted to harm her. I’m hoping these brooches are the breadcrumbs that will lead us to the answer.” Katrina had passed the silver hand to her son who was currently inspecting it.

“It’s intricate work. You say there are many like this?” His voice was high pitched and friendly, just as Lilian had remembered it. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Mr Attorcop replied. “And I don’t think they’re from a mould. We have two in our position and there are too many slight differences. Besides, if they are made in secret, a mould would be a loose end.” Finally, he turned to Lilian who had been itching to speak since the meeting started. “Lilian, I’m glad to see you safe. Tell us, did you manage to find anything useful?” 

Lilian started her story from the second she said goodbye to Mr Attorcop at the palace gates and she did not stop talking until she explained what Genevive had said when they had parted. By the time the tale was over the sun had set. Lilian took a long swig from Katherine’s water skin and glanced at one of the small windows at the top of the basement wall. She could see the starry night sky and thought it strange that it hadn’t gotten any darker inside. 

“So, you think this Katz woman makes the brooches?” It was William who broke the silence first. Lilian shrugged.

“It could be! She certainly has the skill. You should have seen her costume! All silver, jewels and boiled leather, like a flipsy knight.” She turned to Mr Attorcop to gauge his reaction. He was staring intently at the floor, seemingly fascinated by some piece of dirt or crack in the wood, clearly deep in thought. Several of the others began to offer their opinions.

“Did you mention the brooches or the guiding hand?” asked Katherine. Lilian shook her head.

“No, I didn’t want to scare her off. We arranged to meet in a couple of days, I can ask her then.” 

“Who was that fellow with the cane? The one you saw wearing one of the brooches?” asked Katrina. Lilian shrugged.

“He never gave a name. But he stayed close by the entire time I was with the Empress. He also wore a mask, but that wasn’t unusual, most of the palace staff were wearing them.” There was a silence whilst the group considered Lilian’s responses. Finally Mr Attorcop stirred and came out of his contemplative trance. He addressed the group.

“We’re asking the wrong questions.” He said. Lilian smiled. Mr Attorcop fixed her with a cold stare and said,

“What we should be asking is…” Lilian finished his sentence for him.

“What does The Empress want with Fritha?” He nodded sagely, proud of his student. Lilian looked around at the furrowed brows and confused expressions on the rest of the group. Katherine shrugged when Lilian caught her eye. The only person who didn’t look deep in thought was Zadoch. 

“Oh that’s the easy part.” He spoke, off handedly, inspecting a piece of grime under one of his finger nails. The rest of the group looked at him. Lilian saw Katrina frown. When he failed to elaborate Mr Attorcop nearly lost his patience. 

“Please then, Zadoch. Won’t you enlighten us.” Zadoch’s eyes flared as he shot Attorcop a wicked smile. 

“An excellent choice of words Cromwell. Yes, let us shine the light on this little conundrum. Had it been any other leader I would have been equally flummoxed by the request, but Empress Sylvia is not just any... other... leader. Her power was not god given, or inherited. It was earned. She worked for her place in that palace.” Katrina scoffed.

“By marrying the old emperor, yes that must have been quite hard work.” Zadoch whipped round to look at her, shining the spotlight on her dark red curls.

“In all his years the emperor never married and he never bore an heir. If you think getting him to agree to find a wife in his old age was easy then you are mistaken. Empress Sylvia worked for that marriage and then when he died she had to work to keep her place. Why didn’t we find another emperor? Why didn’t the position go to his brother? Hm? That was her doing. She worked then and she works now every day to keep her place in the seat of power.” He paused for a second, allowing Katherine time to ask him something.

“It sounds like you admire her.” Zadoch looked at her.

“Oh I do madam. I may not agree with her choices, but I would admire anyone who works as hard at anything in the way she works at cunning, manipulation and politics. This is why I say her interest in the hound is obvious. She is human and she is bored of working. She is growing older and no longer wishes to constantly have to defend her position. She is looking for a means of securing her place. She wishes to be seen as more than merely human. With a creature such as that by her side, who could question her divine right to rule?”

There was another silence whilst the group considered this. Lilian looked back at Fritha. She felt a cold knot of anger forming in the pit of her stomach. Fritha was not a prop or some tool the Empress could use to impress people. She was her friend. A thought suddenly occurred to her.

“But if she wants Fritha, then why try to kill her?” At this it was William who offered an explanation. 

“I’ve been thinking about that as well. I’m not sure she did want to kill her. Think about it, if someone walked into your room and tried to steal your things, what would Fritha do?” Lilian nearly laughed.

“She would probably hurt them quite badly.” 

“Exactly. I think the goal of that night was the theft and Fritha just sort of… got in the way.” Mr Attorcop nodded in understanding. 

“I think you might be right about that.” Lilian suddenly remembered something else and almost jumped out of her seat at the realisation.

“The man! The one with the mask and the cane, he had a wound on his arm that looked like bite marks. I’ll bet he was there, Fritha probably bit him when she saw him trying to steal the vials.” Peter stirred in his chair and responded to the theory.

“So maybe that wasn’t the Empress trying to kill Fritha, it was how she learned she existed.” His mother proffered caution.

“We can’t be sure that was under the orders of the Empress. The man with the cane could have been acting alone.” Mr Attorcop breathed in and let out a deep sigh.

“It seems as though all signs point to this man. Lilian if you are willing to ask your new noble friend about him then we might be able to find out more that way.” Lilian was about to readily agree when Katherine interrupted the proceedings.

“Hold on hold on. I’m sorry. If this ‘guiding hand’ lot are as dangerous as you say and if they have some connection with the empress then why are we getting involved? And why send Lilian?” Lilian piped up.

“I don’t mind going. Genevive is very nice, I don’t think she’s part of the hand.” 

“You don’t know that my love.” Katherine responded. Lilian felt her cheeks redden. How could Katherine be saying this? She had been there when they found Fritha half dead, she of all people should know how important this is. Katherine sensed Lilian’s growing frustration.

“I know you want to go after the people that hurt Fritha, but is revenge really the best motivation? Fritha is healed, why not leave the city for a while?” Lilian didn’t have an answer for this. Thankfully, Mr Attorcop did.

“If last night had gone differently I would be inclined to agree with you Mrs Brown. But the Empress asked for Lilian personally, she expressed her desire to see her again. If we think that Lilian will simply be allowed to leave and get on with her life then we are fools. Empress Sylvia gets what she wants. We would do better to try and navigate the rocks in the river rather than get out of the boat.” There was a resigned silence. Lilian realised that Katherine was only looking out for her safety, but she still did not enjoy being told what she could or could not do. Not by her friends, and certainly not by an Empress who’s every request came with the implication of threats and menace no matter how kindly it was put. 

Suddenly, there was a shout and a flurry of cloak and movement. Lilian looked up to see Mr Attorcop standing up quickly, he gripped the back of his chair and threw it back and out of the circle. It clattered to the floor, causing several people to wince and Fritha to wake up and look around, startled. Lilian’s heart began to beat quickly, she had never seen Mr Attorcop lose his temper like this. Not even when she had failed to block his attacks a hundred times during training, he had always kept his composure. He was pacing up and down now, running his hands across his head. No one spoke. The bigger picture was slowly revealing itself to Lilian. There was nowhere they could go where they would not be found, no move they could make that would not be countered. They were outnumbered and outmaneuvered. Lilian had been too focused on the details before, but Mr Attorcop’s reaction to the whole situation had forced her to see the woods for the trees. The Empress controlled the law, the streets, the banks, the roads, the public perception, the very mood of the city. They were foxes fighting individual claws, unable to step far enough back to see the bear that was wielding them. A cold, sick feeling entered the pit of Lilian’s stomach. 

It was Zadoch who broke the silence. 

“This is all starting to feel very… familiar.” His words hung in the air. He looked over at Katrina whose face was a picture of melancholy. Mr Attorcop took in a deep breath and turned back to the group. 

“Yes. Yes it is. Which is why we are not going to be making the same mistakes as last time. First of all, I will say that if any of you wish to leave at this point, you will not be judged. Lilian and I can handle this on our own. We will protect Fritha as best we can whilst trying to stay safe and out of trouble.” He directed this last point directly to Lilian, who rolled her eyes and nodded reluctantly. Mr Attorcop turned to the others, “Thank you for your time this evening, but this is all too dangerous now. Even just meeting in this way could be construed as sedition. Please, take care of yourselves and we will see you when all this business has blown over.” He stuck his hand out and pointed to the trap door. Lilian was beginning to feel sad. The sadness faded somewhat though when she saw that no one was standing up. William shifted in his seat. 

“I wish no offence when I say this sir, but you can put that idea in the bin.”

“Here here,” said Peter. Lilian smiled and caught Katherine’s eye. She gave her a wide grin. She turned back to Mr Attorcop and thought she saw a small smile appear within the folds of his beard. 

“This is a dangerous…” He began to speak, but Katrina cut him off.

“Yes yes, dangerous world, don’t take risks lightly we’ve heard it all before Cromwell. And may I remind you that we’re all quite a bit older now, we have learned much these past years and we have help now.” She gestured to the younger members of the group. Her tone grew serious, “We can do this. This time, we have a real chance.” Lilian felt a shift in the air. A sense of long forgotten ghosts coming back for a final haunting. There was a word or phrase that everyone had in their heads, but no one dared to speak aloud. Lilian had sensed it that morning when she walked to work, Mr Twitchett had felt it too. The seeds of discontent had been planted years ago. Finally the fruit of anger had grown in the heat of the summer and now the crop of revolution was ripe and ready to reap. Mr Attorcop nodded.

“Very well,” he said, “then let us change the world.” 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

There was a knock at the trapdoor. Seconds ago, Lilian had felt like celebrating but now she was glancing around the small circle in panic. Everyone looked just as clueless as she was. 

“Who is that?” said Katherine in a whisper. Mr Attorcop’s brow furrowed in suspicion. Suddenly the trap door creaked open. Within two seconds, everyone was up on their feet. The sound of chair legs scraping on wood filled the air. William stepped in front of Katherine, Katrina reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, sharp looking object that Lilian thought might be a knife. Mr Attorcop had the moonblade in his hand raised and ready in a flash of silver. The only person who was still seated was Zadoch who merely gazed up at the commotion with curiosity, as if someone had just done a particulary strange sounding sneeze. Lilian kept her eyes on the trap door. A huge pair of boots were making their way down the steps through the hole in the ceiling. The legs that followed were thick as tree trunks and Lilian’s stomach lurched in realisation. A beast of a man, two heads taller than anyone else in the room appeared on the stairs. Each step made the rickety steps creak in pain.

Deacon. Thought Lilian. And if he’s here, then that means…

Sure enough, seconds later Lilian’s suspicions were confirmed. As Gus Deacon took his place at the bottom of the stairs, crouching slightly to stand guard, a second figure appeared. 

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” The hoarse voice of a woman drifted unwelcome into Lilian’s ears. “Some kind of party?” it said. A sleek and despicable form snaked its way slowly down into the basement. 

“Oh Cromwell, I do hate not being invited to parties.” Lilian looked back at Mr Attorcop. His eyes narrowed in loathing. 

“Hello Bried.”