Read Online Weapon of Fear by Chris A. Jackson, Anne L. McMillen-Jackson - Free Book Online

his lips.  “It’s more complicated than that, Dee.  If Lad and Mya did
somehow kill the Grandmaster, then they’re traitors to the guild.”
    “But
if the Grandmaster’s dead, who’s calling the shots?”  Dee couldn’t believe he
was hearing this.  “Your life doesn’t belong to Hoseph, it belongs to Lad.”
    “I
need to think about this before I make a decision.”
    “But
he saved your—”
    “Enough!”
    Dee
tensed.  He’d expected more loyalty from Sereth, but he couldn’t flout his
orders.  Lad had put the Master Blade in charge.
    Sereth
stood and opened the door, a clear signal that their meeting was over.  “I’ll
see you tomorrow morning at Lad’s house.”
    Dee
nodded in assent, unsure whether he had masked his apprehension, and left.  To
him, the matter was simple.  His loyalty belonged to Lad, not some nebulous
dead Grandmaster in far-off Tsing.  But he didn’t dare alienate the Master
Blade.  Should Sereth be appointed guildmaster, Dee would have no choice but to
work with him.
    Or
die .
     

     
    Arbuckle
strode into the Great Hall, his blademasters in tight formation around him, and
stopped short.  The cavernous chamber seemed to have shrunk, so filled was it
with imperial guards, knights, and squires, all clad in gleaming armor and
weapons.  The herald announced his entrance, and the entire room bowed as one. 
A flutter of apprehension mixed with pride filled him.  These men and women
were sworn to him, and with them he would banish his vile father’s shadow.
    Struggling
to maintain a composed mien, Arbuckle announced, “It’s time, Captain Otar.” 
    “Milord
Prince.”  Otar stepped forward and lowered his voice.  “This is unwise.  You
put yourself in peril needlessly.  Your father would never have—”
    “I
am not my father, Captain.  The sooner you accept that, the better we
will get along.  Besides,”  Arbuckle tugged at the hem of his dress doublet, a
bit snug now that he wore a fine chainmail shirt beneath it, “with all of you
around me, I’m well protected.”
    “Heralds
could just as easily announce the emperor’s death, milord,” Otar argued.
    “No,
Captain, they couldn’t.  Heralds and posters are impersonal.  I must show the populace that things will change.”  Arbuckle smiled to the captain.  “But
thank you for pointing out that my father would never do this.  Now I’m certain
it’s the right thing to do.”
    “If
you say so, Milord Prince, but I’d have my objection to this foray noted.”  Otar
nodded to the imperial scribe hovering just outside Arbuckle’s cordon of
blademasters.  The man’s pen was busy as always, recording every word.
    “So
noted, Captain.  Now, I’ll say a few words before we leave.”  Arbuckle stepped
up onto the gilded dais at the head of the room and scanned the assembled
crowd.  “Ladies and gentlemen.”  Every eye snapped to him, and Arbuckle felt a
twinge of apprehension.  He was unused to making speeches.
    Just
tell them the truth.
    “This
the start of a new era.  For more than forty years, Tsing has been ruled with
an iron fist.  That reign of tyranny is over.  I am not my father, and
things are going to change. We will maintain order, but we will institute
justice as well.  Every citizen of Tsing deserves the same rights.  With your
help, I intend to give them those rights.”
    Armor
rustled as they shifted.  He saw surprise on some faces, resolve on others.
    “Change
will not come easily, but is necessary.  History tells us that oppression leads
to rebellion and the death of empires.  We—you and I—must show the common
people that there is no need for rebellion.  Today we bring them hope.”
    Several
in the crowd nodded, though a few frowned.  Arbuckle hoped that was simple
worry, not rebellion.
    “I
expect that they will welcome the news.  They may even get rambunctious, but ,”
Arbuckle lowered his voice, aiming for a stern but unthreatening tone, “your
mission