Muftasa and her agents kept a close eye on anarchist sentiments in Ravence, but Jangir and his men could do what Muftasa’s agents could not. They were civilians, not spies. And being so, they had intimate access to the people and their homes that Muftasa’s spies did not.
The gold caps quelled rebellions before they arose. Exposed rebels before they could utter so much as a word of protest. Used a forceful hand, when needed. If Leo hoped to thwart potential rebellions, or find the agents on Yassen’s list, he needed both Muftasa’s and Jangir’s help.
“Patch him through,” Leo said.
Jangir appeared in a holo before him. He bowed, sweeping his hat.
“Your Majesty.”
“Jangir,” Leo said. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
“I don’t mean to disturb Your Majesty, but—” Jangir hesitated. “One of my top men, Leelat, was taken into police custody last night. He got drunk in a bar, and his attacker was rushed to the hospital. An overzealous officer believed that Leelat caused the fight, but I assure you, Your Majesty, that the other gentleman began it. I can call witnesses.”
Leo had no doubt that Jangir had witnesses who would support his story.
“The gentleman, is he alive?”
“Yes, sir. He’ll pull through.”
Leo sighed. He felt slightly annoyed to be called for so trivial a request, but he nodded.
“I’ll arrange for him to be released and all charges to be dropped.” He fixed Jangir with a cold stare. “But you need to control your men. I can’t have any of them misbehaving, not with Elena’s coronation so close.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. And we will bring men in full force for the queen’s celebration.”
“What about rebel activity?” Leo asked.
“There have been whisperings about a gathering,” Jangir said.
“Credible?”
“Somewhat, but my men will investigate further.” Jangir paused. “But if we find them to be true?”
“Then do what you must,” Leo said without wavering. He had neither love nor patience for protestors or Prophets who threatened his kingdom.
Jangir bowed. “So we the blessed few.”
When his holo disappeared, Leo turned to Arish.
“Anything else?”
The Astra hesitated. “Your Majesty, does Jangir know that Yassen Knight is now working with us?”
“No,” Leo said flatly, “and I do not plan on telling him.”
Jangir had called, quite loudly, for Yassen’s death when he assassinated his brother, General Mandar. The grizzled war hero had been a particular favorite among the gold caps, often hosting private dinners with top officials. If Jangir knew that the throne now employed his brother’s killer, he would march up Palace Hill himself. Create a public nuisance. And then Ravenceandthe world would know that the Ravani throne worked with a traitor. And that was something Leo could not afford. Not right now.
“Justly so,” Arish said. “There’s then the matter of your daughter’s engagement. I believe we should announce it. Tomorrow. Having Samson appear next to Her Highness on Palace Hill will send a message to the Arohassin.”
“Arrange for it,” he said. “And set a meeting for me with Samson. It’s time I talk to the boy.”
Arish bowed and departed.
Only once the door clicked shut did Leo sit, unrolling all the parchments. They looked even more fragile aboveground.
Gently, he flattened each, and studied the rolling script. It was written in Herra, the ancient language spoken in the early days of Ravence, now all but obsolete.
Leo was careful not to smudge the handwritten ink as he tried to make sense of the symbols. On the first scroll, he recognized the feather and the rune shaped like the eye of a hurricane, an inward storm. He searched for some clue that would unlock their meaning, but the scroll held no such key.
