Ruins (Pathfinder 2)

“We Sessamids make no shoes,” said Rigg. “I want you with me, Umbo. I need your help. But if you choose not to come, I won’t resent it. How many times do people have to die because they came with me?”

“So far death hasn’t interfered with my life as much as you’d think,” said Umbo. “I’m in.”

“Let’s go, then,” said Rigg, and he held out a hand.

Umbo took it, bounded to his feet, and side by side they walked briskly toward the Wall, with Param, Loaf, and Olivenko following at a slower pace.

CHAPTER 19

Royal

“I’ve been trying to figure out why everyone was so angry with me,” said Param as they walked through the Wall. Umbo and Rigg were far out of earshot ahead of them.

Loaf grunted.

“Any progress?” asked Olivenko. “Have you thought that pushing Umbo out the door might have been part of it? Not to make any suggestions.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me,” said Param.

“I think he was being delicate and respectful,” said Loaf. “If I had said that, it would have been sarcastic.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed him,” said Param.

“We’re making progress,” said Loaf.

“Someone else should have done it,” said Param. “I shouldn’t be reduced to protecting the name of the royal family myself.”

“The royal family that tried to kill us all back in Ramfold?” asked Loaf. “The royal family in which the queen tried to murder her own children while she bedded General Citizen?”

“Leadership comes naturally to some people. Look at Rigg and Umbo. Raised in the same village. But Rigg is a natural leader, and Umbo is . . .”

“A peasant boy,” said Loaf. “I think that’s what you called him, when you accused him of being a liar.”

“I never accused him of—”

“I have perfect recall now,” said Loaf. And when he quoted her own words back to her—“And we’re supposed to take the word of a peasant boy?”—his voice sounded astonishingly similar to her own. All the intonations were exactly right.

“I didn’t suggest that he was lying,” said Param. “I merely said that it was unreasonable to expect someone like me or Rigg to take the word of a peasant boy as if it were indistinguishable from fact.”

“So you studied the history of the wallfolds for nearly a year and you’re still as ignorant as ever,” said Loaf.

Instead of time-slicing to get away from Loaf, Param slowed down and let him move on ahead. But Olivenko stayed with her, walking at her slower pace.

Param could feel the hideous music of the Wall playing with the back of her mind, making her angry, sad, despairing, lonely, anguished; but not the way it was the first time she had experienced the Wall, not overwhelming, not terrifying. “Are you going to criticize me, too?”

“You were raised to rule,” said Olivenko.

“Or so my mother said,” Param replied. “I have no idea when her plan for me changed, but my education, such as it was, never changed. You don’t announce to the cattle that you’re going to slaughter them.”

“You were raised with courtly manners,” said Olivenko. “You heard people talking in elevated language, observing the courtesies.”

“As Rigg does,” said Param.

“But the

expendable Ramex trained him to be able to do that.”

“Exactly.”