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The messenger lets out a dismissive huff. “We’ll be ready to keep them off your backs. It’s about time those pricks got knocked down from their high horse. I’d even take King Konram and the old Crown’s Watch over the wildness worshippers.”
With a shake of his head in consternation, he wheels his horse. “Where can I find Princess Petra? My boss wanted me to speak directly to her.”
Ivy motions to the mass of carts and wagons beyond the growing platform—the vehicles we used to bring us and all the equipment we needed out here. “She’s staying well-guarded for the time being, but someone will let her know you’re here so she can see you.”
The crowd from the city is already drawing closer. I find myself resting my hand on the knife sheathed at my hip, even though I’m not particularly more confident using it than I was after Stavros’s initial lessons weeks ago.
We know the gang is on our side, and presumably the daimon are too. But what can we expect from the first regular citizens who’ve come to witness the start of the trials?
Are they here to support Petra’s attempt to reclaim her throne or to condemn it?
Ivy tugs her hood over her head, low enough to shadow her face. We don’t know how the ordinary people will react if they recognize her from Lothar’s accusatory announcements.
A wooden creak brings my head snapping around, but it’s just Casimir leading the cart we arrived in. He gives us a good-humored wave and yanks the canvas back from the heap of daggers, swords, crossbows, and shields my parents’ assistant supplied us with.
“The first wave of our most important allies is on the way,” he says with perfect assurance. “It’s time for us to show them how very important they are.”
I’m relieved that Ivy studies the assortment of weaponry with a similar wariness to what I’m feeling.
“Do you really think we should bring out the blades right away?” she asks.
Casimir offers her a crooked smile. “Anyone who’s coming to hurt us will have brought their own weaponry. As far as I can imagine, we’ll only be arming those who are willing to take Petra’s side but haven’t had the means.”
I restrain a grimace. “Let’s at least hear what the Black Talons who’ve been walking with them have to say about their conduct first.”
The courtesan dips his head in easy acceptance. I don’t know how he can seem so calm about the momentous and precarious gambit we’re trying to pull off in the coming day.
It doesn’t take long for the new arrivals to reach us. Several figures with an air of criminal confidence push to the fore of the crowd, prodding a few dozen men and women who look rather dazed along with them.
Rheave leaps forward to welcome his fellow daimon. His urgent instructions reach my ears. “We need to keep watch all around this platform. We can use our magic if we have to. No one should be allowed to hurt the people conducting or participating in the trials, especially Princess Petra.”
As some of the captured spirit creatures speak up in a clash of voices, Ivy strides over to an older man with patterns carved in his shaved head. “Glad to see you, Garom. How has our audience been behaving so far?”
She nods to the cluster of some fifty spectators who’ve stopped farther back from the construction area. They’re mostly wearing plain or even shabby clothes, their hair unartfully cut and their stances nervous.
I suppose that makes sense. The outer-warders would have been closest to the gates once the message went out.
The Black Talons’ boss grunts. “There’ve been a lot of questions, mostly about whether the queen will really be here and what the Order might do about it. But they seem more stunned that they’re actually going to see the trials in action than anything else.”
“Perfect.” Casimir grabs one of the dim lanterns.
As he clambers onto the edge of the platform, I scan the land between us and the city again. More figures on foot are trickling from the gate that faces this direction and heading our way. None of them are moving in a way that strikes me as threatening, but I’m hardly an expert on identifying potential combatants.
Ivy bumps her elbow against mine. “Stavros and our sort-of troops are keeping a careful eye on the spectators. They won’t ignore anyone who looks like a real threat.”
On his perch with the lantern at his feet to light him, Casimir claps his hands for attention. He pitches his voice to carry over the gathered gang members and daimon.
“People of Florian, thank you for joining us for the trials that will prove who deserves to rule our country. Our rightful queen, Princess Petra, needs your support now more than ever. It’s only a matter of time before the Order of the Wild tries to murder her as they did her parents and so many others.”
To my surprise, the princess herself approaches from the far side of the platform. She’s flanked by two soldiers, and I catch a faint shimmer of magic around her that suggests there’s some sort of barrier protecting her from an immediate attack.
She stops a few paces back from Casimir and holds up her own lantern. A new, simple crown one of our allies crafted for her gleams gold on her dark hair. “I intend to test myself today to show in every way possible that I will lead this kingdom fairly and well. Will you help give me that chance? Will you stand with me against those who would try to force the gods’ hands?”
Casimir motions to a couple of workers who’ve come to lead the cart even farther forward, past the Black Talons members and daimon. “We’ve brought weapons for all those who are willing to stand with us against the traitors who want to tear Silana apart. We know you’ll only use them to protect our country.”
Petra offers a soft smile. “I don’t have a country without all of you in it, living the lives you’re meant to enjoy. Together, we can put an end to the horror of the scourge sorcery that’s swept across our realm.”
As uncertain as I was about Casimir’s idea, the civilians appear to respond well. A few and then several more approach the cart to pick out a weapon and in a few cases a shield.
