The Brigadier sighed, then took a deep breath as he prepared to address the crowd. “Silence!” he roared, his voice so penetrating and powerful that the whole room fell silent and everyone turned to stare at him in amazement.

     “Princess Ardria will lead the assault on the palace.” he said. Someone began to cheer, but he fixed the man with his eyes and the cheer died in his throat to become a cough of embarrassment.

     “However," continued the Brigadier, "we will proceed in an orderly fashion. We are not a rabble. We are being led by a Princess of the royal house of Strake and we will behave accordingly. We will not just go charging off to be slaughtered by the palace guard. We must first muster our forces, become organised and then present ourselves to the King so that he can see what faces him. Then, most importantly, we must give him the opportunity to surrender himself, with a promise that he and his family will be allowed to live the rest of their lives in exile...”

     “Hang the King!” someone shouted, and many people shouted their agreement. Soon, the same words were being shouted by the whole crowd, those with weapons waving them in the air. The anger built and grew in the room, rapidly approaching the point at which the crowd would lose control of itself and attack anything within reach. A riot was being born. A monster that could only destroy and that would leave large areas of the city in flames without inconveniencing King Nilon or the Radiants in the slightest.

     The Princess tapped the Brigadier on the shoulder to get his attention, then gestured to the table. The Brigadier nodded and put his hands around her waist, lifting her up with scarcely any effort. Then he turned back to face the crowd. “Silence!” he roared.

     “The King must hang! He has to pay for...”

     “I said silence! Princess Ardria of Helberion wishes to address you.”

     The tumult gradually ended, but the Princess waited patiently until silence had fallen and she had their full attention. She was still wearing the clothes of a common working woman, but she stood with all her customary pride and majesty to that it seemed as though the drab grey and brown cotton was some kind of illusion and that she was actually dressed in a silken gown more befitting her station. Some of the people in the crowd even bowed their heads, as if they'd only just become aware that they were in the presence of royalty, the heir to a whole kingdom. That brought a disquieting thought to the Brigadier's head. Once the revolution began in earnest, it wouldn’t stop with King Nilon. Everyone in the country of noble birth would be a target, and that might mean that Princess Ardria herself might become a target. At the moment the crowd loved her, but that might change in a moment once their bloodlust was fully roused. The Brigadier forced himself to stand easy, his arms folded across his chest, fighting a powerful impulse to put his hand on the pistol at his belt.

     “The Brigadier is right,” she said, and her voice was clear and strong, carrying easily to every part of the large warehouse. “If we butcher and slaughter King Nilon and his family, we become no better than them. If we are to fight, it has to be for a just and noble cause, to achieve a righteous objective. If you want me to lead you, then we will conduct ourselves in a civilised fashion. We will accept the surrender of anyone who wishes to do so and treat them with mercy and respect. Any killing of an enemy soldier who is trying to surrender will be treated as murder and the perpetrator will be hanged.”

     Uproar erupted as everyone in the hall objected. Above the clamour, the Brigadier and the Princess were able to hear the occasional individual word, but no more. The crowd pushed forward, threatening to overwhelm the Brigadier and crush him against the wall. He drew his pistol and fired a shot at the ceiling. The crowd immediately fell silent, staring in shock.

     “You heard the Princess!” shouted the Brigadier. “We are willing to oversee the disposition of justice, but we will not be a party to mob rule. If you are not willing to abide by her rules then we will leave and you can deal with King Nilon in whatever way you see fit.”

     “What gives you the right to make the rules?” shouted a man at the front, no more than three feet from the Brigadier. “You're not Carrowmen! You don't know what it’s been like for us...”

     “We asked her to lead us!” another man shouted at him. “Haven't you been paying attention?” He came forward, then turned to address the crowd. “We all want to be ruled by King Leothan, right? The justice and fairness with which he rules Helberion is known to us all. Well, he won’t rule forever, and when he goes back into the ground this woman will be queen of Helberion. Queen of us all! What she just said, the terms she just set out, are part of the justice we want, for our country, for our families. Isn't that right?” There was some uncertain murmuring. “Well, isn't it?” he pressed.

     “Justice, yes!” The first man said. “And that means that Nilon has to pay for his crimes. The whole rotten regime has to pay! We can't let them just get away with it, retire to a life of luxury paid for by the blood of our loved ones.”

     “You're Den Wilks, aren't you?” said the second man, sympathy in his voice. “Your son was arrested and executed for treason.”

     “He tried to stop the guards from beating up a friend of his, they came from the same herd. He was...”His voice broke as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. The other man waited patiently for him to continue. “He was hanged in Hutton Market. There was nothing I could do...” When he spoke again his voice was loud with anger. “They made me watch! He wasn't even declared yet and they hanged him and they made me watch! You can't let them get away with that!”

     “Mister Wilks,” said Princess Ardria, her voice gentle and sympathetic. Den Wilks turned to look up at her. The Princess sat on the table and prepared to climb down from it. The Brigadier came forward, suddenly afraid, but she waved him back. She slipped gracefully down to the floor and came forward to stand before the angry man.

     “Nothing will bring your son back,” she said. “If you see King Nilon hang the way your son was hanged, will that give you peace?”

     “It'll be justice,” he replied, but he sounded suddenly uncertain, disarmed by the woman standing in front of him. She looked small and frail beside the large, muscular man. He looked as though he could have snapped her like a twig before she could make a move to defend herself, before the Brigadier could do a thing to intervene, but she stared up, unafraid, into his face.

     “And then what?” she asked. “Will you hang all the guards as well? And all the informers who worked for them? They all have families who probably love them as much as you loved your son. Many of them may want revenge, just as you do. So they kill your people to get even and you kill their people to get even for that... Where does it end? Would you see the killing go on for generation after generation, or do we end it now?”

     He shook his head as he searched for words to answer her. “What you ask... It's hard. You don't know what you’re asking. You can't know unless you've lost someone you love.”

     “I've lost no members of my family to the Carrowmen, it’s true,” she said, “But I have lost people I care for. I know my pain must be a tiny thing compared to yours, but I do have some small understanding of what you’re going through. There's a part of me that cries out for vengeance, but the good of the Kingdom comes first, and the good of the Kingdom requires peace, even if that means that some evil people must be allowed to get away with their crimes. It means that, if King Nilon gives himself up when he sees us coming for him, the killing can end here, now. Your families can live in peace and security, not having to worry about members of the former regime seeking revenge on them. I know I'm asking a lot of you, but I’m asking it nonetheless. Will you put aside your need for revenge for the sake of peace and security?”

     She reached out a hand, and the man stared at it for a moment, as if it were a snake that might bite him. Then he reached out and took it. He nodded, and then trembled as a different emotion took hold of him. No longer anger but sadness and grief. The Brigadier half expected him to burst into tears, but he had enough pride left not to want to break down in front of so many people. He swallowed it down with an effort, therefore, and nodded again. Then he turned to address the crowd.

     The Princess is right,” he said, his voice steady as he regained control of himself. “We will comply with her wishes, with her command. We will give the King and his family the chance to surrender, if they want to.”

     But he's hoping they won't want to, the Brigadier knew. He's hoping they'll make a fight of it. He may look for a way to force a fight. I'll have to keep an eye on him.

     A hubbub of agreement was sweeping through the crowd, though. The Princess had won them over. He stared at her with admiration. The way she’d turned the man around... He'd been the key to turning the whole crowd, but it had been an immense risk! A huge gamble! If things had gone wrong for her... The Kingdom comes first, though. That was the motto the Helberion royal family had lived by for three generations, and she believed in it as much as her father and grandfather. She will make a truly great queen, he thought, and a part of him hoped he'd live long enough to see it, even though it would mean that King Leothan had died before him, something he was pledged to prevent.

     “Send people out into the city,” the Princess then said. “Spread the word that no action is to be taken yet. We must first find out what’s really happened in Helberion. If the Carrow army really has been destroyed, then we can decide how we're going to take Greyspike Palace. If the report we heard was inaccurate, though, if the Carrow army is intact and returning, then we will have to lie low while we decide what we’re going to do. No-one is to take any independent action. No guards are to be attacked, nothing is to be sabotaged. That will only tip them off that something is in the wind, and if anyone is captured we won't be able to do anything to save them.”

     She was giving orders with a natural authority, the Brigadier saw, and the crowd was nodding, drinking in every word. They belonged to her now. They were organising themselves. Some people on the edges of the crowd were dispatching others to go out and obey her orders. He saw the Princess taking note of the order givers, the people she would have to recruit as deputies and officers in her army. Den Wilks would be one of her most senior officers, he knew. One effective way of dealing with potential dissenters was to give them positions of authority. It disarmed them, kept them from being able to claim that their opinions were being ignored, and it kept them within sight so that the Princess would know immediately if there were some discontent simmering beneath the surface. The Brigadier didn't think they'd have any more trouble from Wilks, though. He'd been won over too completely. From being her most vocal opponent, he might well go on to become her most loyal supporter.

     Suddenly, there was a commotion by one of the entrances. One of the men who'd gone running off to spread the questionable word of the destruction of the Carrow army had returned and was saying something in a very excited tone to everyone around him. The Princess turned her attention towards him, and the entire crowd followed her gaze. “What is this?” she demanded.

     The man shouted something at her, but it was lost in the excited gossip that was rising around him. “You there,” said the Princess to the man standing closest to her. “What is your name?”

     “Solomon Deere, Your Highness,” the man replied.

     “Mister Deere, please go fetch that man over here, so he can tell us what has him in such a state.”

     The man bowed, then started pushing his way through the crowd. A few moments later he returned with the other man in tow. “Come here,” commanded Ardria. “Do you have news for us, Sir?”

     “Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but I went out to tell everyone the news. The news about the Carrow army, and...” He stared nervously, as if afraid that he wouldn’t be believed and that punishment would follow.

     “Out with it, Sir. You have nothing to fear. What do you have to tell us?”

     He swallowed nervously before speaking. “Well, it’s just that, all the guards have gone, Your Highness.”

     “Gone? Gone where?”

     “The people I spoke to said they were all seen heading back to the palace, Highness. Some palace guardsmen came out of the palace, went to all the guard houses in turn and ordered all the city guards back to the palace. There's not a guard left anywhere in the city, ma'am.”

     Ardria stared at the Brigadier, who stared back. “Maybe King Nilon heard something that alarmed him,” mused the Brigadier. “He has a telegraph line to his troops in Helberion. If something had happened to them, he’d be the first to know.”

     “Could it be possible that their army really has been destroyed?” asked the Princess, looking excited. “Could your plan really have worked?”

     “King Nilon appears to be preparing for a siege,” replied the Brigadier. “He's expecting the palace to come under attack and he’s preparing to defend himself. That's worrying.”

     “Worrying? Why?”

     “If his army’s been destroyed and he’s expecting a popular uprising, you'd expect him to flee with as much wealth as he can carry before he’s surrounded. For him to defend himself, though... It suggests that he's expecting reinforcements to come and save him. Maybe his army suffered a defeat but avoided total destruction and what’s left of it is coming back here. Either that or...”

     “Radiants,” said Ardria, reading the thought in his eyes. “There could be a Radiant army on the way.”

     “Speculation is pointless,” said the Brigadier, though. “We need answers, and the only place to get them is Greyspike Palace.”

     He was itching to go to the palace, maybe find a way to sneak inside and get some answers, but he also didn't want to leave her side, among strangers who might still turn on her if the fortunes of war went against them. The Princess saw his dilemma, though, and had the solution. “We'll all go to the palace,” she said. “All of us, every one in this room. See if Nilon will be willing to speak to me.”

     The Brigadier was hesitant. They needed time to organise themselves properly. At the moment they were still little more than a mob that had chosen a spokesman. It would take days, weeks, to formalise things, to create a framework of authority that would hold people in place. They had no choice, though. Events had overtaken them, and they could either go with them or be swept away by them.

     He nodded therefore. “To the palace.” he said, and the crowd parted to let them through as he and the Princess walked, steadily and sedately, towards the nearest exit.