The Autumn Republic

Nila had been about to open her third eye. She wanted to see what another Privileged-other than Bo-would look like. Even without doing so, she thought she could feel… something different about the woman. Perhaps she was imagining it.

“Surrender your gloves,” the Wings Privileged finally said. “And submit to a search. Then we’ll take you into the camp. Brigadier Abrax isn’t here, but you can ask for a meeting with Lady Winceslav.”

Bo’s face immediately lit up. “The Lady is here? Wonderful!”

He submitted to the search with far less annoyance than Nila would have expected, and even handed over all three pairs of his gloves without comment. One of the sentries turned to Nila.

“I’m unarmed,” Nila said when he raised his hands.

“I should anyway, ma’am.”

Nila squared her jaw and bit her tongue as the man patted his hands down her sides and in the small of her back. When he reached between her legs, she let fly without hesitation, slapping him full across the face.

The soldier stumbled backward. “Bloody pit!”

Bo’s eyes glinted dangerously, and Nila saw him tense.

The mercenary Privileged let out a laugh. “Oh, that’s grand. Leave off it, she’s unarmed. Let’s take them in.”

They were escorted to the church in the center of the town by two rifle-armed soldiers. Just outside the building, a secretary was called over.

“Where is Lady Winceslav?” Bo asked.

The secretary’s eyes flicked to the house just down the lane. “The Lady is unavailable right now. I can ask if she has an appointment…”

Bo pushed past the secretary. “No need!” He was off down the lane without another word.

“Hey!” One of their escorts took off after Bo. Nila put out a foot, hooking his boot, and the man sprawled into the mud. She immediately grabbed him by the arm.

“I am so sorry! That was awfully clumsy of me.”

The other escort cursed under his breath and rushed off, but Bo was already disappearing inside the front door of the house the secretary had glanced at. Nila left the first soldier in the mud and followed Bo inside, dragging Folkrot along with her.

Bo was just coming out of the dining room when Nila arrived, their angry escort brandishing his rifle in Bo’s face.

“Put that away,” Bo said peevishly, shoving the rifle out of his face. “My lady! My lady!”

The soldier shoved the stock of his rifle against Bo’s chest. “Outside! Now! Don’t make me-”

“Make you do what?” Bo flipped the cuffs of his jacket inside out and slid his hands smoothly into the pair of gloves hidden within. He touched a finger to the soldier’s throat and all color drained from the man’s face.

“What is all this damned racket?” An old woman wearing a white soldier’s uniform with a golden sash came out of the sitting room. She stopped at the sight before her. “Privileged Borbador?”

Bo spun away from the soldier and slipped his gloves off and into his pockets. “My lady!”

“Bo!”

Nila could feel her mouth hanging open as the two embraced like old friends and kissed each other on the cheek.

The old woman-Lady Winceslav, Nila could only imagine-stepped away and looked Bo up and down. “Privileged Borbador, you’ve certainly grown.”

“And you’re looking more beautiful than ever.” Bo turned the full force of his boyish grin on Winceslav.

Lady Winceslav shooed off their escort and the flustered secretary who had caught up with them. “Come and sit with me! I’ll get us some tea. I’m so glad to see you alive. Tamas had assured me that you had not been included in his purges, but I was worried nonetheless.”

“I very nearly was anyway,” Bo said. “But I made it through. Lady, this is my new protégée, Nila. Nila, Lady Winceslav; owner of the Wings of Adom mercenary company and one of the finest people you will ever meet.”

The Lady offered Nila her hand, which Nila kissed. “My pleasure,” she said.

“Oh, she is a pretty one,” Winceslav said. Nila could have sworn the old woman winked at Bo. She felt her cheeks grow red. “And who is the boy?” Winceslav asked.

“Nobody,” Bo said. He snagged the secretary by the sleeve just as she was leaving. “Put the boy in your stocks for two days, then let him go. Feed him well and give him a fiver when he leaves.”

Bewildered, the secretary led Folkrot away.

“I’m sorry to cut the pleasantries short,” Bo said as they took their seats in the sitting room, “but you should call one of your code breakers right away.” He produced the letter he had taken from Folkrot and tossed it on the table.

“And what is that?”

“A missive,” Bo said. “From General Hilanska to the field marshal of the Kez army.”

The Lady sent for one of her code breakers before returning to her seat. “And how did you come about such a missive? Surely you shouldn’t be interrupting lines of communication between Hilanska and the Kez. They might be negotiating a peace treaty.”

Nila spoke up. “We took it from that boy at about two o’clock this morning. I somehow doubt, my lady, that he was negotiating a peace treaty at that hour.”

“Is this true?” Winceslav asked Bo.

“Yes.”