"What are a few more follies among so many?" I said. "Beneath the veil, they all appear the same. They won't notice anything until it's too late."
Lir's brow furrowed. "And you expect us all to sneak in several at a time?"
"Go in as we went out," I replied. "Put on the follyblankets and live with our sisters and mothers until the right time comes. Kill Rosten and the army will falter."
"And what of the men who agree with Rosten?" Carinda asked. "What about those who support him, who don't want change in Alyria?"
"They'll abide by the new Law of the Book or they'll be dealt with," Daelyn replied.
"It will be difficult enough for women to reenter Alyria and take up the kedalya, if we can convince them to do it." Galya said. "But what about the rest of the army? How will men pass as women for any length of time?"
"The men will have to come later." I stood and began to pace. "The women will go first. We'll establish ourselves. We'll try to recruit as many others as we can, train them like we did before we left. When it's time, we'll let Rosten discover that an army intends to cross the mountains and invade. He'll prepare his defenses and focus on watching Elitan. He'll never pay attention to what's going on in Alyria. We'll be able to attack him when he least expects it."
Daelyn laughed. "At his coronation. I can't deny that won't give me vast, great pleasure."
Carinda joined me in front of the fire. "You have a keen mind for strategy, Aeris, but I'm not convinced of Rosten's simplicity. He's a cunning monster."
"Dae's right about him, though," I replied. "He targets only those he's sure he can beat."
"Lir's right about him too," the queen replied. "He won't be satisfied with what he has. I think that's a dangerous and unpredictable combination. And what of his army? His followers?"
"There are many men in Alyria who believe in Rosten's ways," Daelyn replied. "But I'll wager there are just as many who don't. Rosten's army is made up of men, sister. Some will fight and some will surrender."
"It won't be easy to change generations of lifestyle," said Carinda gently. "What will you do if your people don't wish you to retake the throne?"
Daelyn stood, her hand on her protruding belly. She lifted her chin and stared at each of us in turn. "The Law of the Book says when the Prince Regent has a son, he can become King. This child I carry can claim the throne from two different lines. There will be no disputing his right to Alyria's throne."
It was the first any of us had heard her refer to Rosten as the child's father.
"And what of the rest of you?" asked Carinda.
"It's the best shot we have," I said.
Carinda looked at Daelyn. "What say you, sister?"
"I say bravo, fetchencarry," Daelyn replied. "You've come a long way from the melon stand."
Chapter Fifty-Four
Thus the plans began. When the first thaw came, Galya and I would begin to lead the initial groups of women through the mountains and into Alyria. We'd take up our places in whatever households we could find without attracting attention. We'd try to convince other women to join our cause. Lir and Gerard would continue to train the army and send women through the mountains as often as possible until they were all in Alyria, and then the rest of the army would follow in time for Rosten's coronation. Then we'd find a source to leak the information to Rosten that Carinda of Elitan planned to attack Alyria. When Rosten gathered his army to meet his enemies, we'd gather our secret forces and prepare to meet them in battle.
The five women we'd chosen to come with us, Ilyia, Felissa, Verrilay, Dillah and Ria, were the best of those we'd trained. Together, the seven of us made good time through the harsh terrain, stopping only at night to light a fire, eat and sleep. The rest of the time we ate as we walked.
We sang, too, cradle songs and drinking songs, songs we made up as we went along, songs of love and loss, joy and sorrow. It felt good to voice ourselves with freedom. I think we all were thinking about how in a few days we'd be unable to even speak aloud, much less sing. That made the songs, even those sung out of key with hoarse voices, that much sweeter.
We stopped a day before we'd cross into Alyria and waited until nightfall before we moved again. In darkness we went down the mountain, and in darkness we made our way through farms still fallow. We made it to the city just before dawn and put on the follyblankets.
I'm sure I wasn't alone in having depression wash over me as the cloth came down to cover my face and body. I fought a wave of panic. The last time I'd worn a kedalya, it had been from Rosten's hand. It made me feel small and weak, and a burst of hatred for the man who had made me feel that way straightened my spine. I wouldn't let him win.
We went immediately to the house of Baltian, where Verrilay had once lived.
The man of her house was not a supporter of Rosten, and had urged Verrilay to escape, though it meant they'd be separated. When we crept into the dark house, we found him sitting by an unlit fireplace, a jug of worm and the tang of herb his only company.
Verrilay went on hesitant feet toward him, and he looked up, far less surprised than I'd have been to find seven veiled figures in my house so early in the morning. His gaze was bleary, but when she stepped closer and lifted the hood of her kedalya, his eyes filled with tears, and he wept at the sight of her.
"Hush," Verrilay said and went to him. "Don't cry. I'm here."
He pressed his face against her belly and sobbed so fiercely his entire body shook. "I thought I'd never see you again!"
"Hush," Verrilay repeated, as though she soothed a fussing child. "I'm here now."
It was too intimate a sight for us to be a part of, so the rest of us went to find a place to sleep away the fatigue of our journey.
All the others had lived their lives as follies, but I don't know who had it harder: me, who'd never had to live that way, or them, who'd tasted of newfound freedom and now gave it up.
They'd done it voluntarily, though, which made a difference. They put on their follyblankets without complaint and blended into the household as though they'd never left.
The routine wasn't difficult, even if wearing the kedalya was. It tripped me. The rough fabric made my skin itch. The weight and restricted vision made my head ache. Still, they all were discomforts as necessary as any I'd endured while learning the Art, and I didn't complain. A week passed while we settled in, and we learned that the next of our number had arrived in Alyria. A week after that, more slipped into the city under cover of darkness. Our veiled army was growing.
Alyria was in a flurry of excitement, planning for the dual events – the feast of Sinder's Birth and Rosten's coronation gala. Both would take place on the first official day of spring. We had less than a month to prepare ourselves.
I hadn't heard from Lir, but knew he'd be among the last to arrive. Now our task was to make Rosten suspect an outside attack to keep him distracted from anything going on in Alyria.
I heard from one of them, Kalysta, that Lir had begun preparations for the rest of the army to move out in one month's time, when they could count on spring fully entering the world. I slept with the letter beneath my pillow and fancied I could smell him on the paper.
I didn't want to give up that single memento I had, but he'd written out of necessity. The letter was meant to fall into the wrong hands. The only question was how we would get it to Rosten without endangering any of our number or an innocent.
The task naturally fell to Galya and me. Baltian, who looked like a changed man since Verrilay had returned to him, cautioned us. Rosten's new laws had made it more difficult than ever for follies to gather.
"You'll need to be careful where you go, and when. Make sure you have the right papers. Rosten's men are all over the place. He's been working them like oxen. There've been a lot of grumblings in the streets and poetry houses about his terms of service, but the punishment for deserting is death and there is no retirement."
"Doesn't he know an army fights best when it has reason to win?" I replied throu
gh the muffling fabric of my kedalya. I didn't dare lift it, not even in the privacy of Baltian's home. The disguise had to be permanent and flawless.
"Oh, he's given them reason to win. He's convinced the lot of 'em that when the rebellion has been put down, there will be no more need for an army, and all his soldiers will be vastly rewarded."
I tried not to scratch at the heavy, prickly material of my follyblanket while I knelt to arrange the footstool beneath Baltian's feet. To any casual observer, we'd be naught more than a group of follies servicing the man of our house.
"But there is no more rebellion," Galya said. "With Daelyn and the rest gone, who would be leading it? There haven't been any more refugees since we escaped."
"No more women have gone missing, no. But there are more women standing up against their men, even if it means dire punishment. More boys than ever are being born, which has sent Rosten into a frenzy, since 'tis more than clear that most of them aren't boys at all."
"What makes you say that?" I asked, ever sensitive to the idea of a mother raising a daughter as a son. "There have always been more boys than girls born."
Baltian sighed, a man replete with good food and drink and follies to grant his every whim. He was a good man, but in that moment, I thought him a stupid one, as well.
"He's started the Law of One to One, now."
"The Law of One to One? What's that?" I nudged the footstool a little too hard, and Baltian's feet thumped to the floor.
He frowned. "One girl child is allowed for each folly. No more. One to One. One to take her place when she dies, you know."
Our gasps could be heard even from beneath our follyblankets.
"And what does he do with the girls born after the first?" Galya asked.
Baltian shrugged and looked uncomfortable. "He...kills them."
In the dead silence that followed his awful words, Baltian seemed compelled to talk. "He's been having random inspections and commanding the men whose follies are birthing to check the infants. Most men don't want to have anything to do with it. They say 'tis a woman's place to deal with the blood and the shite, but Rosten's new campaign is clear. Women can't be trusted. He's lobbying for more men to take over the raising of their offspring even when they're still in clouts."
"And he can do this?" Galya's voice was thick with stricken tears. "He can order the death of babies?"
Baltian shrugged again, and I wanted to slap him for his callous reaction. "A few, in the beginning. There's been a miracle in Alyria. Women have one girl child and then all boys. But of course...most of 'em ain't."
"Of course they do. I would too," Verrilay said strongly. "Invisible Mother! No man would take my child from me!"
Baltian looked surprised by her outburst, but then nodded. I forgave him, a little. "You're not alone."
Verrilay touched Baltian's shoulder. "And the other laws? Are the people happy about those?"
"The ones who spend their time working instead of playing, are. Most of the new laws reward hard work instead of fashionable clothes and parties. But even Sinder's festival and the coronation ain't bringing the work they should."
I heard a note of bitterness in Baltian's voice and looked around the room. His house was small and plainly furnished, his clothes of good quality and fashion, but not rich. Verrilay had told us he sold carved metal jewelry as his craft and also ran a bobsinbits store of lesser quality items.
"What of the artisans?" I asked. "Without the fashion and the parties, is there much need for gewgaws?"
Baltian sighed. "My business has suffered. The new fashion is more sober, like Rosten himself. There is plenty of work for the tailors, haberdashers and cobblers, all busy with remaking outfits in a style more pleasing to the Book Monster's eye."
"There are always those who jump to follow the latest style. We need to know if the people truly prefer Rosten's rule over Daelyn's. If the men here are happy without their poetry and parties," I said.
"I can only speak for myself, you know."
"We know." I kept my tone as deferent as I could make it. "But surely you know how your friends feel, too."
Baltian looked around the room again, at the follies he'd suddenly inherited. "My friends treat the women of their house kindly, and always have. My friends appreciate poetry and merriment, but realize the importance of hard work. My friends, like me, don't believe in killing babies."
"And would your friends welcome a life in which women were no longer only follies, but mothers and daughters as well?"
He sighed heavily. "Some might. Some might not. But none of them like Rosten's harsh ways, I can tell you that. There are even some brave souls who say he's gone a bit mad with the power."
"He didn't need power to go mad." I got up and went to the window. Baltian was right; groups of three and four soldiers marched along the street at frequent intervals. I saw two follies hurry by, but no more than that.
"Is there any place women are still allowed to go without new restrictions? To the market? To Merchant Square?"
Baltian grimaced. "No, and I'll tell you, 'tis making our lives a hell. It would almost be better and easier to go shopping myself than have a folly do it. By the time she gets to the market she's been stopped half a dozen times by Rosten's overzealous soldiers, and by the time she gets home the produce is wilted, or has been picked through to be searched for forbidden items. They stopped the one carrying my new order of bent metal last week and took it from her because they said she could have used it to make weapon. I ask you, what would she have done with it? Poked someone's eye? I had to pick her up at the House of the Book, they'd broken two of her fingers, which made her useless to me for a week, and they'd ruined the metal, to boot!"
"What of the baths?" Verrilay seemed used to Baltian's ways and better able to get him to tell us the answer to the questions we asked, not the ones we didn't.
"The baths?" At first he didn't seem to know what she meant. "Oh, those. Well, the follies must have a place to be kept clean, don't they? And since it's against the law for a folly to remove her veil in front of any male unless she's being bred...."
My teeth gritted at his continued insensitivity. Baltian might truly love Verrilay and the other women of his house, but he was still all man. "The baths are not restricted?"
He shook his head. "I don't think so. Well, no more than every man has had to register his follies and assign them times at the baths, instead of the way it used to be when they could go at their need. And there are guards at the doors to check their papers and make sure they're not coming in at a time assigned to anyone else, and that they're going only to the bath they've been assigned to."
My gaze sought Galya's through the slits in our follyblankets. "They don't make them take off their kedalyas, do they?"
"Of course not!" Baltian sounded shocked. "Sinder's Balls, no!"
I laughed at how Rosten's hatred and disgust would be his downfall. Galya nodded in silent agreement of what I hadn't needed to say aloud. We knew where we'd meet our allies to work and train.
And we also knew how we would get close to Rosten.
Chapter Fifty-Five
When I'd lived as a man, I never realized how far-reaching and swift the lines of communication ran for follies. Like most men, I hadn't paid any attention to the passing of colored bits of fabric, the way a folly dipped her head to another or lifted the hem of her kedalya to show the toe of a slipper as she passed. Forbidden from learning to read and write, the women of Alyria had developed an amazing, silent language all their own. It was how they told each other of births and deaths, of which markets had the best produce, which houses had cruel men and which had kind ones. So much had to be communicated without words, for even in the privacy of their rooms, follies had to be careful in what they said.
There was no way I could learn this language, even if I'd started to recognize signs of it. I had to rely on Galya to "speak" for me as we walked the streets and conversed with the women we passed. By using the follies' system, w
e managed to organize ten different units, each under the leadership of one of the former refugees. Each of these ten made sure the women under her were quick and eager to learn. We met in the bathhouses, where the women trained and grew strong.
Through one of these meetings I learned Carinda and Gerard, along with a force of seven, had found shelter with an artisan being driven to poverty by Rosten's new laws. The men had begun to arrive. The coronation was now only three weeks away.
Rosten had restricted the use of the baths, but hadn't instituted any ways of checking if the follies listed on their papers were the ones who went inside. Nor did he give his soldiers any method of checking to be certain the ones who came out were the same who'd gone in.
Beneath the veil, all follies look the same.