“Then what do you seek?” the middle-aged woman asked. “There is nothing of value in Pacta Servanda.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Mari saw Alain and the other three Mages shake their heads. A lie? What could be here that was of value? Perhaps some artifacts of the kingdom, maybe even some jewels or whatever remained of the crown of Tiae. Nothing that mattered to her, Mari was certain. “There is something here of value to us,” Mari said, “but we demand nothing. We want to discuss what we can give you in exchange for what you can provide us.”
“Words are cheap enough to exchange,” the youngest woman said. “And what do the Mages seek?”
Alain indicated Mari. “The Mages follow Lady Mari.”
The oldest man spoke again, despair apparent in his voice. “The Mage Guild and Mechanics Guild have openly allied?”
“No,” Mari said. “We are not here as representatives of our former Guilds. We are dedicated to overthrowing those Guilds and bringing change to this world.”
Her words didn’t seem to reassure the leaders of Pacta Servanda at all. Another of the men spoke, his voice rough. “You wish to change the world, so you came here? Lady Master Mechanic, whatever you seek, Pacta Servanda does not have it.”
“On the contrary,” Mari corrected, keeping her voice commanding but polite, “your town has exactly what we seek. We want—”
The youngest woman’s voice was low but firm, her face as hard as that of the officer on the landing. “What you want matters little to us who have so little. We will fight before we will allow any outsiders to enslave us. We will destroy this town fighting from every building before we give it to you. Every one of us will die trying to kill one of you. You would conquer only ruins inhabited by the dead. Do not doubt the price you would pay to seize Pacta Servanda, Lady Master Mechanic.”
Mari gazed back at the young woman, seeing the suspicion and anger in her, but also the strength and determination. “I don’t doubt you at all. I have seen such a place. My Mage and I have been to Marandur. I don’t think even you can imagine the horror of that city. It is our goal to avoid such a fate for any other place in Dematr.”
“Marandur?” the third man asked. “Is it no longer forbidden? Why did the Emperor permit you to visit?”
“He didn’t,” Mari replied dryly. “He’s actually really upset about it, which is why Mage Alain and I have avoided every opportunity to personally discuss the matter with Imperial authorities.”
“You’re under an Imperial death sentence?” the oldest woman asked. “And seek to hide here? You’ve made a poor choice.”
“Looking at you, and listening to you,” Mari said, “I am convinced that we made a good choice. I hope you will also make a good choice: to accept what we can offer.”
The youngest woman answered her again. “Beware the gifts of Mechanics, for their price will always be beyond your means. Have you heard that saying, Lady Master Mechanic?”
Mari gave her a flat look, annoyed by the way these commons were deliberately overemphasizing her full status and grateful that that level of sarcasm had never infected the ranks of unimaginative Senior Mechanics. “I’ve heard worse than that. Why not listen before you make up your minds? This town is clearly a bastion of order and decency in a land where such things have become rare. Tiae was given too little aid and too little consideration by the Great Guilds, who were more concerned with trying to limit the spread of anarchy than they were with helping those who needed it. But alone you can’t hold out forever, and alone you can’t return Tiae to what it once was. We’re prepared to offer our weapons and our skills and our power to help you defeat your enemies and expand the area you control. We will help you to return order to Tiae.”
“And in exchange?” the oldest man inquired in the silence that followed Mari’s words.
“In exchange you give us what you have, and what we need. A secure place to operate from, a place to set up workshops, access to raw materials, and a labor force willing to work for us.”
The oldest woman nodded slowly. “Now I grasp why you’re here. The Great Guilds are beginning to crumble just as the Kingdom of Tiae did. You seek a place where you can build up enough strength to challenge your Guilds.”
Mari wasn’t sure she liked the way that sounded, but she had to admit the truth of it. “Yes.”
“You wish to place the people of Pacta Servanda, the people of Tiae, in the middle of a struggle between the Great Guilds and renegade members of those guilds? Has Tiae not suffered enough?”
Mari liked the way that sounded even less. “The people of this town, the people of Tiae, won’t be in the middle.” How to say it right? “They’ll be alongside us.”
“Alongside?” the youngest woman asked with broad skepticism.
“Yes. We’ll defend you just as we’d defend ourselves.”
“As you rebel against the authority you were sworn to obey,” the oldest man said. “As you lead forces against them and overthrow them and… then what? We have seen this. We have lived through this. Many others did not. Why should we aid any warlord, even if she wears the jacket of a Mechanic and has Mages at her command?”
Mari wondered if her expression conveyed how much the charge had shocked and hurt her. She stood wordless for a moment, struggling with anger.
Alli’s voice rang out. “How dare you? Mari’s trying to gain freedom for this world, she’s trying to gain freedom for every Mechanic and Mage and common, and you accuse her of being a warlord?”
“She’s never asked anything for herself,” Calu added, his voice brimming with outrage.
“Lady Mari,” said Alain, his Mage voice revealing a cold fury, “does not seek gain or glory. She does not seek to harm. Her goal is to prevent the Storm that approaches this world, a Storm which has been foreseen by the Mages and which will turn all of Dematr into a place of death and ruin. Tiae was the forewarning of the Storm that the Great Guilds have tried to ignore. If the Storm is not stopped, Tiae represents only the beginning of the destruction to come.”
“I would follow no warlord,” the captain of the Gray Lady spat. “I follow her. I follow the daughter. You know not who you insult.”
“The daughter?” The oldest woman blurted out the name, her eyes wide. “Impossible. She did not come when Tiae needed her. She will never come.”
Mari’s anger faded as she thought about all of those who had waited, and hoped, and died. “I’m sorry. I… I was born when I was.”
The youngest woman leaned forward, studying Mari. “You claim to be the daughter? What insight led you to know that about yourself?”
“The sight of Mages,” Mage Dav said. “We see her, and we know. We see the Storm approach, and we know.”
“She did not want this of herself,” Alain added. “She did not want the burden.”
“The burden.” The young woman looked at Mari again. “Is that how you see it?”
“Yes,” Mari said. “It’s a very tough job, and a great many people want to kill me, and quite a few of them have already tried. I wouldn’t have volunteered for the job, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“And yet you are a Mechanic,” the oldest woman said. “And you partner with Mages. Neither have been friends to common folk. Mechanics consider us beneath contempt. Mages do not consider us worthy of any concern or notice.”
“We’re different,” Mari said. “Do you think that if I felt that way I’d be here talking to you? That I’d be giving you an offer for a deal that will help Tiae instead of an ultimatum to do what I ask, or else? And my Mages have spoken to you. Have you noticed? They admit you exist. Well, not all of them yet. But we’re working on that. I have commons here who can tell you that they are treated with the respect they deserve, because all of us, including me and Mage Alain and even Master Mechanic Lukas and Professor S’san and Mage Dav and Mage Hiro and Mage Alera and Mechanics Alli and Calu, we have all been treated with contempt by others. Those others are the leaders of the Great Guilds. And we realize that the only way to earn real respect is to really respect others.”