Chapter 19

Chapter 19

It took Roka a moment to respond. “Thank you.” She said it mostly as a way to buy time. Why did he say that? Why did he choose this moment? After a second more to think, she added, “No… what? My outfit is almost unchanged from this morning.”

Talit’s cheeks reddened. “You’ve got that…” He gestured around his collar, “that thing draped over your shoulders.”

“My shawl?” Roka asked.

“Yes, that! It’s nice. And while yes, your dress is otherwise the same uniform a Sentinel always wears, you still stand out. And not just because your profession is recognizable.”

“Mmm,” Roka said, trying not to sound suspicious and probably failing. She thought she understood where this was coming from, but she was having trouble navigating Talit’s bluntness, especially since she had known him less than a day. Was this the typical royal approach to flirty small talk, or was she reading too much into a compliment?

She determined the best course was to passively wait and see. “Thank you,” she said again and was saved from further awkwardness by the arrival of a new pair of guests seeking Talit’s attention.

“My prince,” a tall man with broad shoulders called to him. Pox marks lined his cheeks, making it look like his cheek bones were higher than they actually were. A shorter man with a round stomach came after him, his steps cautious as if he were barefoot in a field of scorpions. Both men were easily the poorest dressed in the building. They did not wear rags and the colors of their wrappings were diverse, but the fabric was old and washed out. While they appeared clean and well-groomed, even the slaves wore richer clothing.

Talit seemed disappointed by the sudden interruption, but he turned to meet the new arrivals with a smile. “Representative Mashakata, Representative Seijasa, I am pleased to see you. Have you been enjoying the singing?”

“It has been delightful thus far,” the tall man, Representative Mashakata said. “Much more in tune than I am used to.”

“Do all members of the court train their voices?” the short man, Representative Seijasa asked, his voice high but also quiet.

“Many do,” Talit said, “but most sing often enough that special training is not necessary. They learn the correct pitch naturally. As long as there is a lead vocalist or someone with a strong sense of pitch to guide them, the average courtier can follow along easily enough.”

“It is certainly a more vibrant experience than the public singings I have been to in the city,” Representative Mashakata said.

Roka waited next to Talit and watched the two men, trying to figure out who they were and what they were representative of. She had not heard such a title before. She also found it strange that they didn’t use any titles or honorifics for Talit.

“Ah, Sentinel Roka,” Talit said, his tone more formal than it had been a moment ago, “Mashakata and Seijasa are the head representatives for the Topto Coalition of Citizens. They have been in talks with my father the last several months. You are likely to regularly see them around the palace once you become keeper.”

“Mmm,” Roka said, this time trying not to sound confused—Topto Coalition of Citizens? What was that? Though in her confusion there was satisfaction in knowing Talit assumed her appointment to Keeper of the Walls was a given. “It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

“I thought I recognized your uniform,” Representative Mashakata said. “And the next candidate for keeper, no less. I am not only pleased, but excited to meet you.” He took her hand in greeting, but his partner remained in place, his eyes darting around the room like he was waiting for someone to kick him out.

“Tell me,” Representative Mashakata went on, “have you heard anything about our movement?”

“Your movement?” Roka asked, looking at Talit. He did not offer any support, neither was he smiling anymore. She turned back to Mashakata. “I have heard nothing, but this is my first time in the city. I’ve spent most of the last six years all over the empire, never staying very long in one place.”

“We are certainly strongest in Topto, but our influence is spreading. We have coalition estates in Kakduzi and Mapinumei, and are working on setting one up in Mwahaji. You may have seen one of our smaller houses in your travels. The closest is in Montaima.”

“I was just in Montaima, but I am afraid I saw nothing that… well, I wouldn’t know what your coalition would look like. I haven’t heard of it before today.”

“That’s quite alright,” Mashakata said, and while his clothing did not place him as a typical courtier, his smile did. It spoke of influence and agendas. “I and my organization have been negotiating with Emperor Dawuto for a restructuring of our imperial system into a more common one. We believe a government that votes on the implementation of new laws with the backing of the will of the people is the best way forward for our nation. With the changing world around us, it is important that we change as well, so that we can keep our home strong. We also hope to give the people who call our nation home the chance to decide their future.”

Roka looked at Talit again. His neutral expression deepened into a frown, but he did not say anything. This clearly did not come as new information to him. He knew these men and what they preached. Mashakata remained quiet for now, giving Roka a chance to respond, but she only used the opportunity to grab a frosted dumpling and chew on it for a moment. By the time she swallowed, she had formulated what she felt to be the best response.

“The emperor is negotiating with you on this topic?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” Mashakata said. “In fact, it was one of his secretaries that first approached us for an audience. I’ll admit, I was quite surprised, even apprehensive at the prospect, but he listened to our ideas and seemed receptive to them. Our coalition was much smaller then. You almost couldn’t call it a coalition. Only two wards of the city were involved at the time, with members from a few others attending our meetings off and on.”

“The emperor was receptive?” Roka asked, feeling like she was broaching the same question a second time. “I apologize, but perhaps I am not understanding. Are you not suggesting a form of rule without the emperor?” She looked at Talit one last time. “Is this not a bureaucratic rebellion?”

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Talit finally opened his mouth. His voice sounded dry and emotionless. “As Representative Mashakata said, it is more of a restructuring.”

“We would never dream of removing the emperor,” Mashakata said, almost like it was within his power to do so. “Neither do we wish to change the system of ancestral rule that makes up the imperial succession. However, the coalition does hope for a future that allows the common citizen to be a part of decisions the emperor or empress might make. One person simply cannot be trusted to govern the lives of so many millions of others without their approval.”

Roka was pretty sure that was the kind of talk that usually invited a man with an axe to come chop off Mashakata’s head, along with an interrogator to find sympathizers. Instead, an imperial slave appeared with a tray of wine glasses. Roka and Talit each took a glass. Mashakata and Seijasa waved the slave off. For the first time, Seijasa had an expression other than nervous fear. He watched the slave go, his eyes almost looking misty. When he looked back at Roka and Talit, he stood taller.

“As you are about to ascend to the position of Keeper of the Walls,” the newly confident Seijasa asked, “we would very much like to know your opinion on the matter.”

Roka took a slow swig of wine. “I’m afraid it is early to say I will ascend. It is also soon for me to have an opinion, but I have to say the system sounds very En–” she caught herself, “It sounds very Donparsh. Though I must admit I am not an expert on their form of rule.”

“We picked up some of the nomenclature from the Many Ensigns of Donpar,” Mashakata said, “but truly, what we have in mind is much more like the Ninzamian system pre-empire. Each city would elect a representative to come to Topto and vote on their behalf, much as our villages used to choose a patriarch or a matriarch to act as their voice at the old gatherings.”

“Is this why you are titled as representatives? Were you elected?”

“We were not,” Mashakata said. “For the moment, we hold these titles simply by virtue of being founders of the movement. However, the coalition has grown large enough in membership that we will have such a vote soon. Both I and Seijasa will be candidates in that vote, but there are a dozen others that currently seem to have more public support.”

If Roka understood correctly, that meant Mashakata would soon be unemployed—If he could be said to have legitimate employment at all. Despite this looming possibility, he seemed excited for the coming vote. It suggested to Roka that he believed in this insane cause of his and didn’t simply hunger after the power of the throne. The notion left her baffled, not because it didn’t sound like a good idea on the surface, but because they were discussing the height of sedition in open court with the heir to the throne in earshot. Roka supposed that if she indeed became keeper, she would very quickly have to generate a strong opinion on the subject. It sounded like the kind of change that could alternatively be a threat or boon to Ninzam.

Mashakata continued, “The villages and towns where we have a strong presence will be voting for their own representatives. If negotiations with the emperor go well, we hope that every citizen of the empire will soon have a voice in the future of their nation. If a law chafes at the common citizen’s happiness or safety, they can have some say in whether it is removed or adjusted.”

“And the emperor agrees that the common citizen can be trusted to have a say?” Roka asked. While the specifics of this system of governance were new to her, she had read of moments in history when the idea of common law had been brought before the power brokers of the continent. Any potential change was always shut down by those who agreed that the common citizen was not knowledgeable enough to be involved in the making and enforcement of law. “Who would be allowed to participate in a vote?”

“Everyone,” Seijasa answered immediately. “As long as they are provable citizens of the empire. Men, women, and even children, though we suggest children under the age of eight would need to prove they understand the task they are undertaking. Again, it would be the same as choosing a pre-imperial voice. The entire village took part in the choosing. Their status, age, or background did not matter.”

“And slaves?” Roka asked. “Both private and imperial? Criminal and contract?”

Mashakata and Seijasa shared a look. Roka prepared for disappointment. Of course, all of their lofty ideals would come crashing down under the prospect of giving slaves some level of power. They just had to be careful what they said around a Sentinel.

“Naturally,” Mashakata said, “for the system to work…” He stopped and looked around the room surreptitiously, letting his gaze rest on Talit for a moment.

Seijasa picked up the thought for him. “The entire institution of slavery must be demolished. This is one of the biggest points in our negotiation with the emperor. Everyone must have an equal say, and men and women subjected as property cannot be equal. They must be freed.”

“Full freedom?” Roka asked, surprised to not be disappointed. “Many have strived for that before. All have failed. As excited as I am by the prospect, I hope you are doing your due diligence.”

“It is a contentious subject to be sure, but one we are absolutely committed to. The emperor grows more and more amenable every day.”

Roka sympathized with their struggle, but harbored doubts they had any chance of succeeding. Slavery was too ingrained in the empire’s function. If involuntary labor could not be relied upon, great hardship would befall the rest of the empire. On top of that, many imperial slaves were former criminals, living out their sentence in direct service to the empire. What would be done with them if they were no longer forced to work? And of course, plenty of private slaves had chosen to enter their contract of enslavement of their own free will with the assumption that they would eventually be compensated in some way for their work. Demolishing slavery would cause a thousand problems for the empire.

But it would also solve one crucial problem that likely outweighed all consequences: Many men and women in the empire were not free to live as they pleased, most of them innocent of any crime.

Mashakata opened his mouth to continue, but Talit put up a hand. “My friends, I fear we are straying into a much larger and more difficult conversation than belongs at this party. Perhaps we should take our minds off duty for the rest of the night and enjoy the chorus. They are about to start a new round of song.”

“Of course, of course,” Mashakata said, though he sounded disappointed to be interrupted from the subject. “You are right, we should save the heavier discourse for another time.”

“Indeed, we should,” Roka said, “and to be sure, I mean that. I want to talk to you more. Where can I find you?”

Mashakata gave her directions on how to find the local coalition estate in Topto, a difficult task considering it was just one of many houses in a residential ward. When they parted ways, Roka shared a look with Talit.

“They were very bold,” she said.

“Their boldness only grows,” Talit said. “And my father listens to them.”

“You sound disappointed.” Roka was skeptical herself, but something about the Topto Coalition of Citizens left her wanting to know more.

“Are you surprised I would be disappointed? I certainly understand the appeal of the scheme they describe, but no matter how much they struggle to prove their commitment to supporting the emperor, it will mean a clear reduction in my father’s authority.”

He did not mention a reduction of his own authority, but Roka heard it in the ensuing silence. If representative Mashakata and Seijasa were given what they wanted, it would mean taking something away from Talit. Roka expected he understood what could be gained for the people at large, but that did not mean he wouldn’t be hurt from his own loss. To grow up expecting to become the most powerful man in the land and then to be told that power would be scattered to your subjects would be a difficult blow to recover from.

Roka sympathized, but then again, Talit would always have status and wealth. Exceedingly few others could be so lucky.

The lead vocalist and conductor returned to the front of the emperor’s dais to commence the next round of song.