скачать книгу бесплатно
“You are a scared little girl reacting from anger and loss in the most shortsighted way possible. All you want is to get your revenge. But you could be so much more. Do so much more. Listen to me. You could change history.”
“Haven’t I changed history enough?” Rin whispered.
She didn’t care about anyone’s visions for the future. She’d stopped wanting to be great, to carve out her place in history, a long time ago. She’d since learned the cost.
And she didn’t know how to say that she was just so tired.
All she wanted was to get Altan’s revenge. She wanted to put a blade in Daji’s heart.
And then she wanted to disappear.
“Your people died not because of Daji but because of this Empire,” Vaisra said. “The provinces have become weak, isolated, technologically inept. Compared to the Federation, compared to Hesperia, we are not just decades but centuries behind. And the problem isn’t our people, it’s their rulers. The twelve-province system is an antiquated, inefficient yoke dragging the Nikara behind. Imagine a country that was truly united. Imagine an army whose factions weren’t constantly at war with one another. Who could possibly defeat us?”
Vaisra’s eyes glimmered as he spread his hands across the table. “I am going to transform the Empire into a republic—a great republic, founded on the individual freedom of men. Instead of Warlords, we would have elected officials. Instead of an Empress, we would have a parliament, overseen by an elected president. I would make it impossible for a single person like Su Daji to bring ruin upon this realm. What do you think of that?”
A lovely speech, Rin thought, if Vaisra had been talking to someone more gullible.
Maybe the Empire did need a new government. Maybe a democracy would usher in peace and stability. But Vaisra had failed to realize that she simply did not care.
“I just finished fighting one war,” she said. “I’m not terribly interested in fighting another.”
“So what is your strategy? To roam up and down the coastline, killing off the only officials who have been brave enough to keep opium outside their borders?” Vaisra made a noise of disgust. “If that’s your goal, you’re just as bad as the Mugenese.”
She bristled. “I’ll kill Daji eventually.”
“And how, pray tell?”
“I don’t have to tell you—”
“By renting a pirate ship?” he mocked. “By entering into losing negotiations with a pirate queen?”
“Moag was going to give us supplies.” Rin felt the blood rushing to her face. “And we would have had the money, too, until you assholes showed up—”
“You’re so terribly naive. Don’t you get it? Moag was always going to sell you out. Did you think she would pass up that bounty on your heads? You’re lucky our offer was better.”
“Moag wouldn’t,” Rin said. “Moag knows my value.”
“You’re assuming Moag is rational. And she is, until it comes to great sums of money. You can buy her off with any amount of silver, and that I have in abundance.” Vaisra shook his head like a disappointed teacher. “Don’t you get it? Moag only flourishes while Daji is on the throne, because Daji’s isolationist policies create Ankhiluun’s competitive advantage. Moag only benefits as long as she operates outside the law, while the rest of the country is in such deep shit that it’s more profitable to operate inside her boundaries than without. Once trade becomes legitimized, she’s out of an empire. Which means the very last thing she wants is for you to succeed.”
Rin opened her mouth, realized she had nothing to say, and closed it. For the first time, she did not have a counterargument.
“Please, Rin,” Nezha interjected. “Be honest with yourself. You can’t fight a war on your own. You are six people. The Vipress is guarded by a corps of elite soldiers that you’ve never gone up against. And that’s not to mention her own martial arts skills, which you know nothing about.”
“And you no longer have the advantage of surprise,” said Vaisra. “Daji knows you are coming for her, which means you need a way to get closer to her. You need me.”
He gestured to the walls around them. “Look at this ship. This is the very best that Hesperian naval technology can offer. Twelve cannons lined on every side.”
Rin rolled her eyes. “Congratulations?”
“I have ten more ships like it.”
That gave her pause.
Vaisra leaned forward. “Now you get it. You’re a smart girl; you can run the calculations yourself. The Empire does not have a functioning navy. I do. We will control this Empire’s waterways. The war will be over in six months at worst.”
Rin tapped her fingers against the table, considering. Could they win this war? And what if they did?
She couldn’t help but balance the possibilities—she’d been trained too well at Sinegard not to.
If what Vaisra said was true, then she had to admit this was the perfect time to launch a coup. The Militia at present was fragmented and weak. The provinces had been decimated by Federation battalions. And they might switch sides quickly, once they learned the truth about Daji’s deception.
The benefits of joining an army were also obvious. She’d never have to worry about her supplies. She’d have access to intelligence she couldn’t get on her own. She’d have free transportation to wherever she wanted to go.
And yet.
“What happens if I say no?” she asked. “Are you going to compel me into service? Make me your own Speerly slave?”
Vaisra didn’t take the bait. “The Republic will be founded on freedom of choice. If you refuse to join, then we can’t make you.”
“Then maybe I’ll leave,” she said, mostly to see how he would respond. “I’ll go into hiding. I’ll bide my time. Get stronger.”
“You could do that.” Vaisra sounded bored, like he knew she was just pulling objections out of her ass. “Or you could fight for me and get the revenge you want. This isn’t hard, Runin. And you’re not really considering saying no. You’re just pretending to think because you like being a little brat.”
Rin glared at him.
It was such a rational option. She hated that it was a rational option. And she hated more that Vaisra knew that, and knew she’d arrive at the same conclusion, and was now simply mocking her until her mind caught up to his.
“I have more money and resources at my disposal than anyone in this empire,” Vaisra said. “Weapons, men, information—anything you need, you can get it from me. Work for me and you will want for nothing.”
“I’m not putting my life in your hands,” she said. The last time she had pledged her loyalty to someone, she’d been betrayed. Altan had died.
“I will never lie to you,” said Vaisra.
“Everybody lies to me.”
Vaisra shrugged. “Then don’t trust me. Act purely in your own interest. But I think you’ll find it clear soon enough that you don’t have many other options.”
Rin’s temples throbbed. She rubbed her eyes, trying desperately to think through all the possibilities. There had to be a catch. She knew better than to take offers like this at face value. She’d learned her lesson from Moag—never trust someone who holds all the cards.
She had to buy herself some time. “I can’t make a decision without speaking to my people.”
“Do as you like,” Vaisra said. “But have an answer for me by dawn.”
“Or what?” she asked.
“Or you’ll have to find your own way back to shore,” he said. “And it’s a long swim.”
“Just to clarify, the Dragon Warlord does not want to kill us?” Ramsa asked.
“No,” said Rin. “He wants us in his army.”
He wrinkled his nose. “But why? The Federation’s gone.”
“Exactly that. He thinks it’s his opportunity to overthrow the Empire.”
“That’s actually clever,” Baji said. “Think about it. Rob the house while it’s on fire, or however the saying goes.”
“I don’t think that’s a real saying,” Ramsa said.
“It’s a little more noble than that,” said Rin. “He wants to build a republic instead. Overthrow the Warlord system. Construct a parliament, appoint elected officials, restructure how governance works across the Empire.”
Baji chuckled. “Democracy? Really?”
“It’s worked for the Hesperians,” said Qara.
“Has it?” Baji asked. “Hasn’t the western continent been at war for the past decade?”
“The question isn’t whether democracy could work,” Rin said. “That doesn’t matter. The question is whether we enlist.”
“This could be a trap,” Ramsa pointed out. “He could be bringing you to Daji.”
“He could have just killed us when we were drugged, then. We’re dangerous passengers to have on board. It wouldn’t be worth the risk unless Vaisra really did think he could convince us to join him.”
“So?” Ramsa asked. “Can he convince us?”
“I don’t know,” Rin admitted. “Maybe.”
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. She wanted Vaisra’s ships. His weapons, his soldiers, his power.
But if things went south, if Vaisra hurt the Cike, then this fell on her shoulders. And she couldn’t let the Cike down again.
“There’s still a benefit to going it on our own,” said Baji. “Means we don’t have to take orders.”
Rin shook her head. “We’re still six people. You can’t assassinate a head of state with six people.”
Never mind that she’d been perfectly willing to try just a few hours ago.
“And what if he betrays us?” Aratsha asked.
Baji shrugged. “We could always just cut our losses and defect. Run back to Ankhiluun.”
“We can’t run back to Ankhiluun,” Rin said.
“Why not?”
She told them about Moag’s ploy. “She’d have sold us to Daji if Vaisra hadn’t offered her something better. He sank our ship because he wanted her to think that we’d died.”
“So it’s Vaisra or nothing,” Ramsa said. “That’s just fantastic.”
“Is this Yin Vaisra really so bad?” Suni asked. “He’s just one man.”
“That’s true,” said Baji. “He can’t be any scarier than the other Warlords. The Ox and Ram Warlords weren’t anything special. It’s nepotism and inbreeding all around.”
“Oh, so like how you were produced,” said Ramsa.
“Listen, you little bitch—”
“Join them,” Chaghan said. His voice was hardly louder than a whisper, but the cabin fell silent. It was the first time he had spoken all evening.
“You’re debating this like you get to decide,” he said. “You don’t. You really think Vaisra’s going to let you go if you say no? He’s too smart for that. He’s just told you his intentions to commit treason. He’ll have you killed if there’s even the slightest risk you’d go to anyone else.” He gave Rin a grim look. “Face it, Speerly. It’s join up or die.”
“You’re gloating,” Rin accused.
“I would never,” said Nezha. He’d been beaming the entire way down the passageway, showing her around the warship like some ebullient tour guide. “But glad to have you on board.”
“Shut up.”
“Can’t I be happy? I’ve missed you.” Nezha stopped before a room on the first deck. “After you.”
“What’s this?”
“Your new quarters.” He opened the door for her. “Look, it locks from the inside four different ways. Thought you’d like that.”
She did like it. The room was twice as large as her quarters on her old ship, and the bed was a proper bed, not a cot with lice-ridden sheets. She stepped inside. “I have this all to myself?”
“I told you.” Nezha sounded smug. “The Dragon Army has its benefits.”
“Ah, that’s what you call yourselves?”
“Technically it’s the Army of the Republic. Nonprovincial, and all that.”
“You’d need allies for that.”
“We’re working on it.”
She turned toward the porthole. Even in the darkness she could see how fast the Seagrim was moving, slicing through black waves at speeds faster than Aratsha had ever been capable of. By morning Moag and her fleet would be dozens of miles behind them.
But Rin couldn’t leave Ankhiluun like this. Not yet. She had one more thing to retrieve.
“You said Moag thinks we’re dead?” she asked.
“I’d be surprised if she didn’t. We even tossed some charred corpses in the water.”
“Whose bodies?”
Nezha stretched his arms over his head. “Does it matter?”
“I suppose not.” The sun had just set over the water. Soon the Ankhiluuni pirate patrol would begin to make its rounds around the coast. “Do you have a smaller boat? One that can sneak past Moag’s ships?”
