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Inez heads off with Kurtis for most of the next day, and a few hours on the morning of the day after that, before returning to spend the afternoon in camp. I don’t see much of her when she returns. I don’t actively avoid her, it’s just that we’re doing different things.
Word has spread about the vote, and there’s been a change in the atmosphere. People are throwing extravagant parties, dancing in the streets until they drop, trying to squeeze as much as they can out of their last few days of freedom.
There’s tension in the air as well. Tempers fray, arguments are common, I see a few savage fights, and hear reports of more serious disturbances elsewhere.
Our audience numbers drop, people either staying at home because they fear the violence, or roaming the streets in search of it.
Since things are quieter, I wander down to the river of blood in the evening and find it bobbing with more boats than ever. Some are bringing latecomers to the city, but most are spiriting people out — locals who are abandoning the realm.
Everything is orderly at the moment – the passengers wait calmly and patiently on the riverbanks as the steers guide their crafts in to dock – but I think the river will be a place of chaos three days from now, as tens of thousands of Sapphirites attempt to flee by any means possible.
I stand by the riverbank in gloomy silence, trying to imagine what it will be like. There won’t be enough boats. The area will be packed with scared refugees jostling to board and escape. There’ll be fights. Some bystanders might get knocked into the river, to unravel within its destructive waters.
They should have fled earlier. If they’d started evacuating weeks ago, they could have escaped in a peaceful fashion. It was madness waiting this long. Although if this had been my home for decades or even centuries, maybe I wouldn’t be so quick to desert it either.
I head back to camp, troubled by what I’ve seen. I try to keep busy, but there’s not much to do. The audiences for the last two shows are way down, no more than forty people at each. Nobody wants to be on the streets after lights-out tonight.
Dermot tells us that we’ll only do two shows tomorrow and the next day, both while it’s light. Nothing will happen the day after that — the entire city will come to a standstill as everyone waits anxiously for the result of the vote to be announced.
The first of the next day’s shows goes well, and I laze on the grass in the middle of the lot afterwards with Cal and Inez. I’m trying to get back on normal terms with her, but it’s hard, especially when the smirking Kurtis comes strutting along.
“What’s up?” he asks, settling beside us and kissing Inez on the cheek.
“The crowds have dried up, so we’re only doing two shows today,” Inez says.
“It’s like that everywhere,” Kurtis says. “I’ve seen lots of performers heading for the hills. It’s quiet in our camp too. Noah excused me from my duties for the rest of the day, though I have to get back for a victory rehearsal tonight.”
“Will you have a parade through the streets?” I snarl.
“No,” he says. “We’re going to erect a guillotine outside the palace and chop off the heads of people we dislike.”
Cal and I gawp at him with horror, until Inez laughs. “You two would believe anything,” she snorts.
Kurtis grins. “You shouldn’t have given the game away. I could have strung them along for ages.”
“Cal might have attacked you,” Inez says, and Kurtis’ smile slips.
“It was just a joke, big man,” he says uneasily as Cal glares at him.
“I’ve seen people beheaded,” Cal says heavily. “There’s nothing funny about it.”
“No,” Kurtis says. “There isn’t. I’m sorry. The joke was in poor taste.”
Cal blinks at the apologetic duke elect, not sure how to respond.
“Tell you what,” Kurtis says. “Let me make it up to you. We’re planning all sorts of celebrations, but one of the main events is a grop match.”
“I love grop,” Inez exclaims.
“Who doesn’t?” Kurtis grins. “You’re a gropster, aren’t you, big guy?”
“I can take or leave it,” Cal sniffs.
“Come on,” Kurtis purrs. “The size of you? You can’t tell me you weren’t a star blocker back in the day.”
“I played a few games in my time,” Cal says, blushing modestly.
“I bet you were all-conquering,” Kurtis presses.
“I won more often than I lost,” Cal admits, his blush deepening. Then he says shyly, “They called me the Demolisher.”
“Excuse me,” I interrupt, “but what are you talking about?”
“Grop’s a sport,” Inez says.
“The fastest and bloodiest of sports,” Kurtis says enthusiastically.
“It’s not that bloody,” Inez says.
“It is in Ruby,” Kurtis says. “Anyway, we’re staging a match in Tranquillity Park. It’s going to be a showpiece, our finest players against some of the Merged’s best.”
“There were matches like that in the old days,” Inez says. “They were a regular fixture. Teams from every realm competed.”
“So I’ve heard,” Kurtis says. “They’d stopped by the time Noah and I got here.”
“Things got out of control,” Inez says. “The games grew more and more vicious, and the fighting started spreading to the crowds.”
“Sounds like the perfect afternoon’s entertainment,” Kurtis murmurs.
“Are you going to renew the tradition?” Inez asks.
“I doubt it,” Kurtis says, “but it’ll be a fab one-off. It will give people something to focus on other than the vote, and hopefully convince locals that they needn’t be concerned. When they see that our first priority is grop, they’ll realise life under our rule isn’t going to be the nightmare that some are predicting.”
“It’s a good idea,” Inez says. “I’ll look forward to the match, though I imagine it will draw a huge crowd, so getting close to the pitch might be a challenge.”
“That’s one of the things we’re working on,” Kurtis says. “It’s also why you won’t have to wait for some action.” As we stare at him blankly, he leaps to his feet. “We’re having a trial match today. We’ve invited a local team to join in.”
Inez gets up excitedly. “It’s going to be starting soon?”
“Within minutes,” Kurtis says, “and it’s nearby. I was going to suggest you and I check it out, but since Cal and Archie are at a loose end, why don’t you all come?”
Inez is thrilled. “You don’t mind if my friends join us?”
“Not at all,” Kurtis says. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” He grimaces as Cal and I look at him dubiously. “Look, we’ll never be the Three Musketeers, but I’m happy to put our differences aside if you are.”
Cal and I share a questioning look.
“I haven’t seen a grop match in a long while,” Cal says.
“I don’t even know what grop is,” I tell him.
“I’d like it if you came,” Inez says.
“OK,” I smile. “I’ll come check out your grop, but I’ve got to warn you, I’m football all the way.”
“Football’s for the Born,” Kurtis says dismissively. “Now that you’re Merged, it’s grop till you drop.”
I’d like to tell him I’m not Merged, to see the smug look vanish, but that would be a bad move. Instead, as we set off, I ask him if he’s read The Three Musketeers.
“No,” he says. “I died before it was published. Besides, I never learned to read. There wasn’t a call for it when you were a pickpocket of corpses.”
“So how do you know about it?” I ask him.
“I’ve seen it performed on stage,” he says. “It’s a popular show in Ruby, though I think our version differs from yours.”
“How so?” I frown.
Kurtis winks. “In ours, Cardinal Richelieu and Milady de Winter are the heroes.”