“Even if you could raise a rabble, scores of people will die and the rest will break and run,” Royce added.
“They won’t run,” Arista said. “There’s no place for them to go. We’re trapped in a walled city. There can be no retreat. Everyone will have to fight to the death. After this afternoon’s demonstration of the empire’s cruelty, I don’t think anyone will chance surrender.”
Hadrian nodded. “But how do you expect to incite the city to fight for you? They don’t even know you. You’re not like Emery, with lifelong friends who will lay their lives on the line on your behalf. I doubt not even Polish here has a reputation that will elicit that kind of devotion—no offense.”
Polish smiled at him. “You are quite right. The people rarely see me, and when they do, I’m thought of as a despicable brigand—imagine that.”
“That’s why we need Emery,” Arista said.
“The kid dying in the square?”
“You saw the way the people listened,” she said earnestly. “They believe in him.”
“Right up until they were flogged at his side,” Royce put in.
Arista stood straighter and spoke in a louder voice. “And even when they were, did you see the look in the faces of those people? In The Laughing Gnome, they already saw him as something of a hero—standing up for them against the Imperialists. When they flogged him, when he faced death and yet stood by his convictions, it solidified their feelings for him and his ideals. The Imperialists left Emery to die today. When they did, they made him a martyr. Just imagine how the people will feel if he survives! If he slipped out of the Imperialists’ grasp just as everyone felt certain he was dead, it could be the spark that can ignite their hopes.”
“He’s probably already dead,” Quartz said indifferently as she cleaned her nails with a dagger.
Arista ignored her. “We’ll steal Emery from the post, spread the news that he’s alive and that he asks everyone to stand up with him and fight—to fight for the freedom he promised them.”
Royce scoffed but Hadrian considered the idea. He wanted to believe. He wanted to be swept along with her passion, but his practical side, which had waged dozens of battles, told him there was little chance for success. “It won’t work,” he finally stated. “Even if you managed to take the city, the imperial army will just take it back. A few hundred civilians could overwhelm the city garrison, but they aren’t going to stop an army.”
“That’s why we have to coordinate our attack with the Nationalists’. Remember Emery’s plan? We’ll shut the gates and lock them out. Then the Nationalists can crush them.”
“And if you don’t manage to close the gates in time? If the battle against the garrison doesn’t go perfectly to plan?” Royce asked.
“It still won’t matter,” Arista said. “If the Nationalists attack the imperial army at the same time that we launch our rebellion, they won’t be able to bother with us.”
“Except the Nats won’t attack without Gaunt,” Polish said. “That’s the reason they’re still out there. Well, that and the three hundred heavy cavalry Lord Dermont commands along with the rest of his army. The Nats haven’t ever faced an organized force. Without Gaunt, they have no one to lead them. They aren’t disciplined troops. Just townsfolk and farmers Gaunt picked up along the way here. They’ll run the moment they see armored knights.”
“Who’s in charge of Gaunt’s army?” Hadrian asked. He had to admit Arista’s plans were at least thought out.
“Some fat chap who goes by the name of Parker. Rumor has it he was a bookkeeper for a textile business. He used to be the Nats’ quartermaster before Gaunt promoted him,” Quartz said. “Not the brightest coin in the purse, if you understand me. Without Gaunt planning and leading the attack, the Nats don’t stand a chance.”
“You could do it,” Arista said, looking squarely at Hadrian. “You’ve commanded men in battle before. You got a medal.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t as impressive as it sounds. They were only small regiments. Grendel’s army was, well, in a word, pathetic. They refused to even wear helms, because they didn’t like the way their voices echoed in their heads.”
“But you led them in battle?”
“Yes, but—”
“And did you win or lose?”
“We won but—”
“Against a larger or smaller force?”
Hadrian stood silent, a beaten look on his face.
Royce turned toward him. “Tell me you aren’t considering this nonsense.”
Am I? But three hundred heavy cavalry!