The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22), Christopher Nuttall [books to read romance TXT] 📗

a broadsheet stall and vanished before the guards could arrive. A woman - a co-chair of the Female Revolutionary League - was snatched off the streets, brutally beaten and dumped on the other side of the city. Another was raped...”

Emily stared at her in numb horror. “Why...?”

“Royalists,” Aiden said. “Or that’s what everyone is saying.”

The crowd rustled, then started to cheer as Althorn stepped onto the stage. Someone started to chant - “FREE THE PEOPLE, KILL THE ROYALS” - and it grew and grew until it echoed over the entire city. Emily had never liked large gatherings, from pep rallies to political protest marches, but... she could feel the appeal as thousands of people shouted in unison. And yet... she looked at Althorn, standing at the center of the storm. He seemed larger than life, a figure out of legend... she gritted her teeth. She was being silly. He was as human as everyone else.

Althorn raised his hands. The crowd quietened. “The royalists wish to cow us. They wish to scare us. They think we can be whipped until we bow the knee once again. But we are strong. We will be free.”

Emily listened as the speech went on and on. It was surprisingly repetitive, returning to the same themes over and over again, but the crowd seemed to enjoy it and demand more. Althorn blasted the Crown Prince for declaring himself king, for selling out his country to Red Rose, for refusing to so much as make a single worthwhile concession to the rebels. He promised blood and suffering, but also a wonderful land of peace and harmony when the aristocracy was finally exterminated. Emily shivered, despite herself. There would be no peace.

“The Royalists have struck within our city,” Althorn thundered. “They have bombed us and attacked us and tried to silence us. They are so desperate they even tried to kill Emily herself” - Emily flinched as the crowd howled in anger - “and blow up our food. Even now, those cowardly shits lurk in the darkness, moving amongst us as they work to undermine our cause. I promise you, they will not win. We will not let them win!”

The crowd howled, again and again. The sound blurred together into a horrendous crescendo. Althorn could point them at someone - anyone - and they’d tear the victim apart, without pausing to wonder even for a moment if the target was actually guilty. There were few - if any - people who would stand in the way. Emily wasn’t sure she could stand in the way. She’d have to use magic just to protect herself, let alone the target.

“We will take every precaution to keep them from striking again,” Althorn said. “Our brave troops will turn the city upside down, looking for the royalist scum. I pledge to you, we will find them and drag them out. We will not let them win. In the name of freedom itself, we will not let them win!”

Emily kept her face carefully impassive as Althorn outlined a series of security measures that might as well be martial law. Every cart coming into or going out of the city would be searched thoroughly before it would be allowed to pass. Every citizen was expected to keep an eye open on each and every other citizen and report them for anything that even hinted at royalist behavior. Everyone out on the streets after dark was expected to have a pass, or else they’d be arrested and detained... the list went on and on. Emily rather doubted the rebel government would remain popular, even if the citizens felt the security measures were necessary. Emergency measures had a habit of lingering long after the emergency itself was over.

Aiden shifted uncomfortably. Emily glanced at her. Aiden had been a roving reporter, someone who’d fought for freedom of the press. It had to be hard to watch as the rebel council cracked down on press freedom in the name of freedom itself. Emily could understand the importance of keeping rumors from spreading, but nothing made them spread faster than official denial and suppression. She looked at Jair, sitting with the rest of the councilors. He’d made his name by founding a number of broadsheets, from tabloids to serious newspapers. Why was he going along with the rest of the council?

“We will force Dater to accept the will of the people,” Althorn finished. “And if he refuses, we promise him war to the knife.”

The crowd went wild. Emily tried not to cringe into her chair as they shouted and screamed for total war. None of them had ever seen a war, she was sure. The revolution had been bloody, but it hadn’t been a real fight. The monarchy had been so weak that one good kick had been enough to send it crashing down, allowing the rebels to take control. They’d definitely had at least some help on the inside... she made a face. She needed to know who was behind the whole affair, if indeed anyone was...

Someone tried to kill me, she thought, stiffly. And they’re clearly intent on causing trouble.

It felt like hours before the crowd finally began to disperse. Althorn had taken bow after bow, soaking in the cheers as though they were meat and drink. The remainder of the council had come in for their own applause, particularly after they made short speeches endorsing the new security measures. Jair was particularly enthusiastic, somewhat to Emily’s surprise. She’d known he was a hard-liner, but... that much of a hard-liner?

“This way,” Aiden said. “The council would like your insight.”

“I’m not sure if I’m allowed to give it,” Emily said. Her mind was racing. Jair was the loudest voice pushing for war, denying even the slightest suggestion of a meaningful concession. “Why is Jair so... aggressive?”

“He was a scribe in training when the New Learning arrived,” Aiden said. “Unlike the others, he saw the potential immediately and opened a printer’s shop. One thing led to another and he