The Trouble with Peace (The Age of Madness #2) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,104

than less.”

Leo raised his brows at Isher, who was moving from scornful to thoughtful. “Neat,” he conceded.

“I will arrange for a concerted campaign of pamphlets and newsbills that can keep the embers of resentment hot. Blame the Closed Council for the state of the nation. Blame the debt to Valint and Balk. Remind the people of the hanged outside Valbeck. Remind the nobles of the injustice against Wetterlant. Queen Terez is always a popular target. King Orso, too.” It gave her a twinge of regret. But she told herself they would be fighting for their lives. No weapon could be beneath them.

Leo grinned. “I hear that etchings speak directly to the heart.”

“The filthier the better,” said Savine. “King Jezal was a bastard, we can dig up doubts about the line of succession.” Who would know better than she did how destructive such doubts could become, after all? “I will write to Master Sworbreck and keep his presses hot. But even so, Lord Isher, you are right that we will need every ally. From what I heard, there are two potential ones you have left out. The Styrians. And the Breakers themselves.”

“The Breakers?” Leo looked almost as astonished as the stuffed stag’s head over his shoulder. “They’re traitors!”

Savine did not make the obvious point that they were not the only ones. She rested her hand lightly on his. Not steering. Supporting. “Leo, you are a hero to the people. We could easily persuade them to see you as a champion of the common man. You could commit to limits on the working day, protections against exploitation, representation on governing bodies. We could curb some of the most hated practices here in Angland as a demonstration.”

“I don’t know anything about labour laws!”

“But I do.” She had helped develop half those hated practices, after all. “And we need only convince them that you do. Lord Isher, I hear the king’s forces have been spread out among the principal cities of Midderland to deter any uprisings?”

“That’s true.”

“Action by the Breakers, carefully coordinated, might pin the King’s Own down and prevent them from reacting to… other threats.”

Isher nodded, drifting from thoughtful to impressed. “It might.”

“I have some contacts with the Breakers.” She had a notable ex-member in her employment, in fact. “It might be that I could persuade them to support us. At least for now. I have long-standing business connections in Styria, too.”

Isher looked less sure about that. “You really think you can bargain with the Snake of Talins?”

“No. But I understand King Jappo is keen to step from his mother’s shadow… I might be able to arrange a meeting with him directly.”

Leo was more dismayed by every word. “Jappo’s a notorious bloody degenerate!”

“Let us overlook his taste in lovers and focus on his soldiers and his money. His help could tip the balance well into our favour. It could save lives. It could save our lives.”

“The idea makes me feel dirty.” Leo squirmed in his seat. “What would it cost us?”

Savine would have liked to slap him but she settled for calm argument. “The root of the dispute between Styria and the Union is King Orso’s claim on the dukedom of Talins. We could promise to give it up. We could stop supporting Sipani’s independence.” She paused a moment, considering whether to take the next step. But once you decide to rebel against the Crown, there really are no lines left to cross. “We could offer them Westport.”

Curnsbick would have been pleased. He was forever urging her to be more charitable, and here she was giving whole cities away. “Surrender Westport?” Leo gasped in outrage. But Savine noted that Lord Isher stayed silent.

“A paltry price to pay in return for Midderland, Angland and Starikland,” she said. “Have you ever even been there?”

“Well, no, but—”

“A dusty slum clogged with superstitious fools. I for one will not miss it.”

“We fought three wars against the Styrians. Nasty ones. I mean…” Leo looked to Isher for support, but Isher was too busy looking at Savine, his patronising smile long gone. “It’s not very patriotic.”

“If looking unpatriotic worries you, then consider how being hanged for treason looks.” Savine put some iron into her voice. “This is not a game. We must be utterly committed. Fail and we are doomed.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. A log shifted in the sooty old fireplace and sent a shower of sparks up the chimney. “Her Grace is right,” said Isher. “We are risking everything. We must play every card.”

“But we have