The Cities of Song

T H E C I T I E S OF S ONG
FIRST FOLIO
M AT T H EW B E S T
THE CITIES OF SONG

FIRST FOLIO
M AT T H EW B E S T
Matthew Best
The Cities of Song First Folio
Contents
A Dedication
Introduction: A Cosmic Kiss 9

Canto I: Separations & Reunions 12
Canto II: The Intruders Tribunal 18
Canto III: Underbelly 31
Canto IV: The Induction of Ayla Zeybek into the Honourable Company 39
Canto V: A Coming Harvest 45
A Dedication
or my Prime Star. As many as you might hire and train, you will always be
the only one. May you take as much pleasure from the world Ive created,
and may this always prove a reliable escape from long hours. I pray you take
this as pure appreciation for everything you are.
Matthew Best
Introduction
A Cosmic Kiss
here are many places most of us will never see. Not for want of trying, not
for a lack of thirst for adventure, not because we cannot reach the farthest
places of our tiny rock or, like Icarus, the stars themselves.
We will never see them because they do not exist. Not here, at any rate.
These myriad places hide in other Universes; other Cosmos. Places like
our own, but different in some ways. Like people, these places are cut from
the same template: Superficially similar, but underneath it so different, each
behaving according to its own set of rules.
These cosmos dance together across time. Most are strangers to each other,
but some meet at times. And some still are like lovers, forever intertwined.
Fewer still might be compared to fickle lovers, the kind of hatred and adoration
that intermingles so intoxicatingly.
You know it; its the kind of love that has former flames coming to your
doorstep in the dark hours of the morning, scented in perfumes pulled from
the bottom shelves of bars, your mutual hatred eclipsed only by mutual passions
consummated in angry congress, your goodbyes the next morning lying
promises to never repeat the same mistake for the tenth or twentieth time.
Our home lies in just such a firmament, its celestial travels often taking it
within arms reach of its own sometimes-lover. Like fickle lovers, they could
not stop colliding, and, like fickle lovers, they could not stop their parting. It
would just happen, much to the annoyance of the Cosmos.
And in those chance meetings, furious at knowing they would part again,
they would make love. And, as is the case with our own acts of carnal knowledge,
an exchange would take place. Like the sticky fluids left behind, or the breaths
inhaled during a kiss, these collisions would swap a portion of one cosmos
for another, carried away by one paramour or the other during their parting.
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10
The stuff of life, kept like a token, secreted away on the body of one
sweetheart or the other.
There is one important thing to take away from this: The stuff of life in a
universe is quite literally the stuff of lifeit is the souls that inhabit it.

It happened that our Cosmos met his lover in that time beyond time. He
knew something was dreadfully wrong inside of him. He would recover, as
he always had; these moments were unpleasantagonizing, evenbut they
were also fleeting.
And so our Cosmos told their Cosmos of his distress. And their Cosmos,
as she always did, looked at him with bitter resentment. She hated him for
being so different, and hated herself for always coming to him anyway, and
loved him for coming, and loved those brief moments together, but what she
hated most of all was when those brief moments of ecstasy were coloured by
disaster, for her lovers pain always meant that their time together would be as
unfulfilling as it was short.
So their Cosmos grabbed onto our Cosmos as hard as she could (already
being pulled away by forces more powerful than either of them). She drew him
in, as only a Universe can, and pressed her mouth to his, and she felt his breath
hot in her own mouth, a brief bridge between each others bodies.
As she was finally pulled away, she saw the tears already forming in our
Cosmos eyes.
The first tear fell at the same time Archduke Franz Ferdinand did, and
millions more would fall with the bodies of the First World Wars dead.
But that story is well-known to us, and it is not the story your humble
chronicler set out to tell. Our story instead follows their Cosmos.
For as she drifted away from her on-again, off-again familiar, her own
body beginning to be racked by the internal pain of strife and discord and
coming cataclysm, she carried away on her lips the faintest of fumes from our
Cosmos body. In that opening between Worlds was the stuff of lifefrom our
Cosmos to theirs.
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There are many places most of us will never see.

And there are a few places some of us will.
Canto I
Separations & Reunions
13
No, he thought to himself, I am fourteen and nearly a man. I am not to be

frightened.
Anne! Baba! Ayla! he called out again, his voice deepening with confidence
now. He would show these Vikings he wasnt afraid, and they would respect
His father was Ali, his mother was Yeliz, and his sister was Ayla.
by him as he was by them. He noticed one woman, plump and aged, gesturing
he boy woke up on a shore. He had no memory of how he got to the

shore. He did not know where the shore was. What he did know was
that he was Reza Zeybek. He was born in 1900, and he was 14 years old.
He also knew that this was most definitely not Meneke beach, where
his parents would take him swimming on the hottest of days, and he knew
that the waters were not those of the Sea of Marmara, nor were they the
Bosporus. He knew from scanning the skyline that Topkapi Palace was
nowhere to be seen, nor was Galata Tower. He knew that the city in the
distance was not Istanbul.
He rose from the sand and brushed off the scum from the water, and
the gritty white grains of sand that clung to his pajamas. He set off down
the coast, hoping to find a friendly faceif not a familiar one.
Anne! Baba! Ayla! he recited over and over again, calling to his
mother, his father, and his sister in turn.
Still, the city loomed, threatening him. The faces he could see on the
fishermen and fishwives were alien; too pale. Turks could be fair indeed,
as well as the Greeks, and even moreso of the Balkans, but these made him
feel as if hed washed up in Britanya or Fransa or perhaps skandinavya.
He recalled the stories his father would tell him of the Vikings, the
pale-faced barbarians that raided Europe and pushed as far as the Black
Sea; the Varangians who marauded across the lands of the Empire before
there even was an Empire.
Please dont be skandinavya. Please dont be Vikings.
He shuddered at the thought that these faces might not be so friendly
after all. That they might just throw him straight into the sea.
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him for it.

The pale folk had begun to stare at him in earnest, each seeming as puzzled
at him and speaking with great animation to a very official looking man in a
uniform. Noticing him, the uniformed man waved and called something out.
Reza had heard stories of the Janissaries, the Christian boys that used to
be captured and made to serve in the household guard of the Sultans, and he
wondered if these Western European Christians, whether they were English
or French or Vikings, intended to enslave him into their army.
He decided he did not want to find out. He decided, instead, to run.
He turned towards the city, which had a sizable beach between him and
it, and seemed even farther away now that he had decided to flee his would-be
captors. Still, the tight alleys between the half-timbered houses provided a maze,
and the precarious angles at which they leaned in on each other seemed, even
at this distance, to provide a wonderful shadow in which to lose his pursuers.
Reza wondered if he even had pursuers. He turned to look over his
shoulder.
He had pursuers.
The man in uniform was still calling out to him, running after him. He had
run often, mostly when stealing sweets from the vendors in the bazaar, or from
the girls he and his friends would sometimes try to eye bathing.
Still, the man in the uniform was fast, and Reza knew that if he didnt make
it to those alleys quickly, he would be snatched up soon.
As luck would have it, he reached the cobblestone of the streets and ducked
into the first alley he saw, with room to spare from his pursuer. He began to
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weave through the jostle of peoplepoor looking, hardy looking, hocking

meats and fish and beerconfident hed lost the man in uniform.
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The collar had no lapels, but a simple cylindrical gorget, also braided.
The uniform looked formal, but the uniform also looked indistinct. It could
But as luck would not have it, the man in uniform that gave chase was not
belong to any European country. Maybe he was even in the Americas. He still
the only man in uniform in this alien city, as Reza discovered when he collided
couldnt puzzle out how hed gotten thereor why they were speaking Turkish.
with another one. This new man in uniform seemed to be only puzzled by
So he decided to occupy his time another way. He began to pull little balls
Rezas appearance, and perhaps was as confused by Rezas strange dresshis
of lint from the uniform. This tugging got the attention of the man wearing it,
still-wet night clothesas Reza was by those around him.
and he began to shoo Rezas hands away. It was clear he wasnt going to hurt
That truth held until he heard a shout go up. He looked back in the direction
hed come from, and heard a voice calling out to catch a strange boy with dark
skin and black hair in wet clothes.
As the man in uniforms hand clamped firmly onto his shoulder, Reza could
not help but wonder why these Vikings were speaking Turkish.
Reza, so he sat there picking at the felt and unravelling strands, laughing at
the guards annoyance.
It may have been minutes or hours later when the clamour arose. The
guards were hollering about another intruder. In a matter of moments, one of
the guards was frogmarching another prisoner into the cells.
It was Ayla.
Reza sat alone in his cell. It was spacious enough, and dry, and the uniformed
men had been polite enough to offer him a change of clothes and a warm bed
If truth be told, Reza was not overly fond of Ayla. She teased him. She
and food, but they wouldnt speak to him, even though they spoke his language.
taunted him. The only redeeming quality Reza could think of for her was
He had tried speaking to one of the men in uniform, but they wouldnt talk
that Aylas friends were certainly nice to look at, though even that had its
to him except to say that they were waiting for the Syndic to appear and hold
downsidesat three years older than him and grown women (if just barely),
court, and that Reza would be brought before an Intruders Tribunal.
Aylas friends were pining over young men, not 14-year-old boys.
Reza did not know what a Syndic or an Intruders Tribunal were, and did
Still, he loved her, he supposed. And he was definitely glad to see her.
not care to find out. But he did have other questions, such as where am I?
Ayla! he shouted as she was pushed into his cell, running to embrace her.
and who are you? that went ignored by the stern man in uniform standing
To his surprise, the older sister that mercilessly teased him hugged him
watch outside his cell.

And so Reza occupied himself other ways. He studied the uniform, trying
to guess what country he was in, but he hadnt seen many militaries from
other countries. The uniform looked quite formal. It was a deep, dark blue,
back tightly, fondly lovingly. Wheres anne and baba? she asked.
I dont know. I woke up on a beach. I dont know where we are.
I woke up in a cellar. I went upstairs, and a strange man started shouting
at me to get out of the barracks.
almost black, and braided up either side of the breast with gold. The buttons
She too had had a change of clothes, her own nightwear replaced with a
fastening it together were also gold. The brown boots looked like leather, and
simple dark linen dress. She too had been fed, so she told him. And she too
quite expensive. They were matched by brown leather gloves flared at the cuff.
was bewildered as to where they were.
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I think theyre Vikings, Reza told her, and explained his theoryand his
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Where the hell is the Free City of Madrigal? he wondered.
fearthat they would end up as a sort of Turkish Janissary. And Ayla might
Where the hell is the Free City of Madrigal? he asked.
end up in a Vikings harem.
The guard looked at Reza. The guard looked at his increasingly thread-bare
Ayla scoffed at the idea.

Vikings dont speak Turkish, dummy, she said.
Its not hard to learn a new language. We have Turkish, and Arabic, and
Persian. And Greek, and Bosnian, and Croatian, and Albanian
OK, she interrupted, I get the point. They still arent Vikings.
Then who are they?
Have you tried asking them, Reza?
Of course. They dont answer except to tell me that were waiting for the
Syndic to hold a tribunal. I dont know what that means either, he said.
Well, have you tried asking them what that means instead? She asked.
In truth, he had not, as he was forced to admit. Hed moved on from the
questions he didnt care about to try to get at truths he did, and he was also
forced to admit that that had been rather short-sighted of him.
Ayla reached out between the bars and put her hand on the guards arm,
just above the elbow Reza had been picking at before she was brought in.
Excuse me, she said, but who is the Syndic and what is the tribunal?
The guard turned his head slowly to look at her. She batted her eyes and
pouted the way her and her friends did when trying to attract the attention of
young military officers. Though this guard looked more like a man of the line,
it worked all the same, and a hint of a smile cracked his stony, serious face.
The Syndic of Madrigal is the ruler of the Free City of Madrigal. The
Intruders Tribunal is a hearing to see what is to be done with intruders who
come over. We havent held one in living memory.
Reza was shocked. While it seemed clear enough that the Syndic was like
a Sultan, or perhaps a Grand Vizier, it was the name of the place that threw
him for a loop.
uniform. The guard looked back at Reza. The guard looked away.
Will we be seeing the Syndic soon? Ayla asked, giving his elbow a little
squeeze.
In answer, another guard marched up. The Syndic is here, he said.
The cell guard turned back to Ayla, and then again to his uniform, and
then again to Reza. He smiled, wider this time.
Yes.
Canto II
The Intruders Tribunal
yla and Reza were led through a building. Its architecture was queer.
The vibrant colours of their home were gone, replaced with grey stone
that appeared slick and wet. The complex tiling was gone, replaced with a
cobblestone floor. The bright sun of the Mediterranean was gone, replaced
with a cold grey light that, like the stone, appeared to be wet.
They walked through this building for what seemed like hours, but
Ayla knew it was only minutes. Her trepidation, her fear, was distorting her
perceptions. She swallowed and walked on, following the rhythmic footsteps
of the guards leather boots.
Left-2-3-4
Left-2-3-4
She began to stare at the boots, concentrating on nothing but them. She
was scared. Really, really scared. She had laughed at Rezas idea that these were
Vikings, but what frightened her more was that she didnt know who these
people were, or where they were. While Reza was haunted by visions of the
frightening stories of distant barbarians he was familiar with, she was frightened
by the unknown. The unknown offered only a single truth: Whatever she might
imagine, there was a possibility that the reality could be even worse.
She repeated that to herself, over and over again. With each footfall, at the
speed of thought, her mantra repeated itself:
Left- You could be imprisoned.
2- You could be executed.
3- You could be tortured.
4- And still it could be worse than that.
A frisson of fear climbed up her spine, the soft vellus hairs on her back
standing at attention, mimicking the rigidity of the soldier in front of her.
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Left-2-3-4
Now they were at a door. Huge, red, and ornamented; not ornamented in
a comforting way, either, but with twisted wrought-iron handles and matching
studs every foot or so, leaking trails of rust a shade paler than the doors red
paint. The door looked not only like it was pierced through by those iron studs,
it not only looked like it was bleeding, it looked like the door was bleeding
wrongly, with blood lighter than red.
The guards gloves creaked as he reached out to grip the iron handles,
and as he pulled the door answered with a piercing creak of its own, its hinges
squealing in a way that sent shocks through Aylas teeth.
And still it could be worse than that.
The guard stepped back, stood against the wall, lowered his head, and
gestured with a bent arm and an open palm into the room. Inside, he said,
softly.
The softness in his voice frightened her even more. It was beyond courteous;
it was pitying.
Ayla swallowed hard, turned back to Reza, and offered her hand to her
little brother.
Its easy, she thought. Just put one foot in front of the other. Left, two, three,
four.
They were over the threshold.
The Syndics Tribunal was an elegant room. Dark, to be sure, but Ayla
noticed the detail about the room. The braiding on the tapestry and carpets,
the filigree on the metalwork, and the wainscoting on the joints of the walls
and ceiling, all in gold highlights. The rest was coloured red, deeper and richer
than the doorwhat the door would have been, if it had been tended to as
well as this room.
A middle-aged man ushered them to their place, a plain bench in the centre
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of the room, with a plain table in front of it. They were the only plain things
she and Reza had come through. Whereas the Syndic was merely handsome,
in the room, though the wood they were made of matched the red perfectly.
this one was beautiful and exotic to her. His skin was as fair as the others, his
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Around them sat a gallery of curious onlookers. Men and women, young
hair blond and wavy. He had a thin mustache curled slightly at the tips, and
and old, divided only by their relative levels of affluence, which Ayla guessed
a touch of beard just on his chin, brought to a point as fine as those on the
from their clothes; even that was diverse, ranging from impoverished to noble.
mustache. Unlike the gold that decorated the room, his blond was more honest,
Ayla was quiet and curious, taking in the sights around her. Her old fear
more like the colour of wheat waving in the wind on a sunny afternoon than
was pushed aside by awe and confusion. The onlookers simply stared back
at her, equally bewildered. Reza was the only sound in the room, a nearly
imperceptible nervous tap-tap-tap of his foot.
The Syndic of Madrigal of the Harmonious Cities, First among Equals,
Peerless among Peers! a crier bellowed, startling Ayla.
a precious metal coveted by the avaricious and decadent.

As he got closer, she noticed his eyes, which were very blue. And around
those eyes were the most lovely of his features; when he smiled, he showed just
the hint of crows feet that her mother and father had. On a face so youthfulhe
could not have been older than his mid-twenties, Ayla thoughtthey let slip the
A handsome man in elegant robes rose to the dais in front of them. Just
truth, that he was not only wise and cunning, but that the crows feet showed
entering middle age, his hair was dark brown, his eyes darker still, and shaved
only when he smiled meant that this had been tested again and again, and he
clean on his face, unlike their guards, who had sported a variety of unsightly
had come out on top, grinning at his victories until they were permanently
stubble. But, like the guards, his jaw was strong and square, and his expression
etched into his face.
was one of stony silence, unreadable to Ayla.
The Syndic looked less than pleased.
The Syndic grabbed an iron globe in his hand, and brought it down with a
The Baron of Underbelly speaks for the intruders. The Syndic said it
clatter once, twice, three times, each ringing bang strung between a pregnant
with such distaste Ayla wondered if this Baron would be the boon she hoped
pause that let the sound echo about the chamber.
for, or a bane.
So convenes the tribunal for the intruders, who have come into our city.
It is my right to decide what to do with these two. It is their right to have
She looked up at him, and noticed Reza doing the same. He glanced back
and smiled, the crinkles around his eyes comforting her.
somebody speak for them to inform my decision, the Syndic said. Who here
Who are you? The man asked.
will speak for the intruders?
Reza answered first. Im a Turk, from
Ayla looked around the room expectantly, and as she swivelled her head
Aturk? Fine. And you? he asked, turning to Ayla.
to meet the impassive stares of the gallery, she noticed that Reza was doing
Not Aturk, just Turk, and my name Reza continued.
the same.
Fine. Turk, not Aturk. Fine, fine. And you, girl?
Apologies, came the answer, I had a little more information to gather

before I presented myself to the tribunal.
Ayla turned to look at the speaker, who had entered through the same door
Ayla, Ayla said, more than a little frustrated that he thought of her as a girl.
Reza would not stop. My name is Reza, not Turk. Im a Turk.
The beautiful man suddenly looked very pleased by her brother. So youre
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Reza, also known as Turk. All the better.

Reza, Reza said, my name is just Reza.
Shh. You two, say nothing, especially you, their counsel said, addressing
Reza with a finger.
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with blotches of red, the bridge of his nose wrinkled like the skin of a fat, mangy
dog as he twisted his mouth up into a snarl.
This tribunal will not be mocked! he yelled.
In a flash, the Prince of Cats was standing. Like that, his feet came off the
He turned to the dais and spoke. Syndic, shall we proceed?
table and planted themselves on the ground. Like that, his laid-back posture
The Syndic nodded his ascent. Baron, lets get right to the quick of it and
snapped forward to lean toward the Syndic as much as he could from across
dispense with formalities
the floor. Like that, his hands had unlaced themselves from each other and
Prince, the blond man interrupted.
slammed down on the red desk with a banging so loud it dwarfed the earlier
Excuse me? the Syndic asked.
echoes of the Syndics globe.
My name is The Prince of Cats.
And now he too was yelling: I can no more mock this tribunal than I can
The Tribunal will not address you as Prince.
make this table into itself, I can no more mock this tribunal than I can make
You said we were to dispense with formalities. Baron is my title, Prince
the bench we sat on a bench, and I can no more mock this tribunal than I can
is my name.
make you, Syndic, into a short-sighted, bureaucratic moron who hides his
The Prince of Cats is your night-name
cowardice behind his office the same way he hides his gut behind his girdle.
The night-name is just another formality you asked we dispense with.
A thing cannot be made itself; it already is itself, and it is for that reason alone
The Free Cities of Song have not had royalty or even a regent since time
that this tribunal shall not, cannot, and will not be mocked, for it already is a
immemorial, and as such the tribunal will not address you as Prince.
mockery.
Given that you wanted to dispense with formalitiesmy title being one
Ayla was disturbed. She appreciated the Prince of Cats passion, but he was
of themit seems that the tribunal will address me as Prince. It simply wont
their counsel in this strange land, and it seemed like he was slipping the noose
like doing so. And since were dispensing with formalities, the Prince of Cats
around their necks. If anybody had spoken to the Sultan or Grand Vizier as he
said, allow me to make myself comfortable.
had spoken to the Syndic, that person would have lost their head.
With that, he plopped himself on the plain red bench, threw his feet upon
She swallowed hard. She was not disturbed, she realized. She was terrified.
the plain red table, and crossed one leg over the other. He tossed up his hands
Next to her, Reza had gone stiff, and she could see the whites of his knuckles as
in open-palmed defiance, then laced his fingers together behind his head. He
his fingers dug into his knees. She didnt know if her little brother was scared
smiled.
of the proceedings or their counsel or both, but she knew that their mutual
Ayla found this cavalier act to be quite attractive, but all the same she
was frightenedwas this man destroying what little hope they had with his
arrogance?
The Syndic was visibly livid. His once-handsome face had become mottled
fear was a uniting factor.

Poor Reza. He tried so hard to be a man. She supposed it was a rite of
passage for boys, to emulate their heroes in the hopes of one day being able
to step into that space themselves. But Reza was not a man, he still was that
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boy, yet to complete that rite. He was still awkwardly filling out his own body,
getting used to the length of his bones; he couldnt be expected to stand on his
legs yet, let alone alongside giants.
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but all the Cities of Song against the King of Autumn

And having preyed on the good citizens of Madrigal ever since with your
thievery
She put her hand on top of his, as her mother had many times when
Which the Act of Alliance between the Harmonious Cities and the Most
comforting her. It caught his attention, and he looked over at her. She smiled
Honourable Company recognizes as a valid tax to be levied at the discretion
at him and gave his hand the slightest squeeze.
of the Company Baron, namely me, for the welfare of my demesne, namely the
She only hoped he did not look at her eyes and see that her smile was a lie.
public lands of Underbelly, and the freeholders of the barony, namely those
The Syndic had graduated from lividity to apoplexy. He punctuated each
who live under my protection, he gestured to the impoverished members of
word of his reply to the Prince of Cats thus: I. Will not. Be spoken too. Like.
the gallery; weathered people in weathered clothing, their faces as stained by
That!
grease and bleached by sun as their clothes.
The Prince of Cats smirked, and for the first time in their brief encounter
I question, Syndic, the Prince of Cats continued, if you wanted to
Ayla saw hints of cruelty sneak up on his face as he smiled. Like his feline
dispense with formality if only to forget your place. I assure you I have not
namesake, the smile wasnt to show some sense of joy, but to display his teeth
forgotten mine.
for the benefit of the prey those teeth would soon consume.
It seems like you will be spoken to like that. It seems that you simply will
not like being spoken to like that, the Prince of Cats said, repeating his earlier
mocking.
Baron! the Syndic shouted.
Ayla could see that the Syndics teeth were on edge, showing between his
lips. His voice was a hiss. Perhaps we should reinstitute the formality of the
tribunal.
Perhaps we should, the Prince of Cats answered.
It is the opinion of this tribunal that they be escorted outside the walls,
Prince, the Prince of Cats corrected.
that they may found a freehold among the farmers, to live out the rest of their
The tribunal had descended into madness, with both the Syndic and the
days. What say you to the contrary, Baron?
Prince of Cats interrupting each other. While the words were in clear Ottoman
Turkish, the phrases they made were gibberish to Ayla.
The Free City of Madrigal tolerates your band of thieves
The Most Honourable Company of Acrobats, Escapists, and Jugglers is
not a band of thieves, Synd
The Most Honourable Company of Acrobats, Escapists, and Jugglers is a
most dishonourable gang of burglars, lockpicks, and knife-throwers
Given freedom of the city and autonomous rule of Underbelly by one of
your predecessors seven centuries ago for our defence not only of Madrigal
Intrusion is not a criminal fault, Syndic. And exiling two intruders is a

death sentence. They have no coin to buy a freehold, no assets to trade for one.
Madrigal cannot afford to feed and clothe two intruders, Baron, let alone
take them in.
Madrigal is one of the two ports in the Cities of Song. I find it absolutely
incredible, Syndic, that you are telling us that we are too impoverished to
provide for two children.
And yet, Baron, you are not a member of the Syndicate, and as such are
not privy to city-level affairs.
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Be that as it may, you found the boy Turk in the Underbelly, did you not?
For what? There will only be another tribunal for him. Has the Prince
And Underbelly is still my demesne, is it not? And as such, your guards were
of Cats become the bureaucrat he despises, that he would mire our good city
in violation of Underbellys autonomy, were they not?
in procedure simply to forestall what he knows must happen? Why delay the
The Syndic began shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The Prince of Cats
inevitable? Why not simply allow justice to take its course? Why waste all of
continued, You know the treaty, Syndic. The city guard may move freely
our time, and drag the good people of Madrigal out to witness in the gallery
through Underbelly, and may take reports therein. They may give chase, but
not once but twice?
they may not apprehend. Not within our borders. When they raised their hue
He made a grand gesture around the room, trying to play the gallerys
and cry, was it to inform the Honourable Company that intruders were within
sympathies as the Prince did so well. But the Prince was a charismatic ruler
the borders of Underbelly? It was not, because that was the information I was
who could sway a crowd so, and (as the Prince had noted) the Syndic was the
out gathering before coming. Not only have I brought that information with
bureaucratic one. Ayla could see even the Syndics own people, the nobles,
me, but the witnesses to that act as well. No, that hue and cry the guards raised
staring back at him with boredom.
was to demand the apprehension of an intruder

We have not had an intruder in nearly seventy years, Baron. The guards
were excitable, but that does not mean they were in the wrong. They acted well
within their authority to apprehend an intruder
Ayla noted that even with the pretensions of formality restored, the Syndic
and the Prince had descended back into interrupting one another.
Because, the Prince answered with that cruel smile again, there will be
no other tribunal for the boy.
He held up a hand to forestall the Syndics inevitable protests before
continuing. Allow me to explain just why this tribunal is a mockery, Syndic:
The boy was apprehended in Underbelly by the city guard. This is a breach of
the Honourable Companys rights, and our treaty with the Cities. As such, the
The guards breached the autonomy of Underbelly, Syndic, and this
status quo must be restored, and we must act as if he was never apprehended.
tribunal is concerned with the law, is it not? Shall the criers tomorrow say that
Since his proper apprehension would have taken him to me, not the city gaolers,
in a court of law, the Syndic ordered that the breach of a treaty was lawful, and
I would have learned before the tribunal that he has taken the night-name
the Baron of Underbellys protests to that act were unlawful?
of Turk, and would have taken him as prentice myself, as is the right of any
Ayla watched the Syndic. He was silent for a long while, his discomfort
clearly growing. The Syndic said nothing, choosing instead to stare at the Prince
of Cats. The Prince, in turn, stared back.
It was the Syndic who spoke first. When he did, Aylas heart leapt in her
throat, and she knew in that moment that theythe Prince, reallyhad won;
the Syndic had caved.
What would you have me do, Baron?
The boy Turk is to be turned over to me.
Honourable Companyman.
Since this is what would have happened had you not illegally breached
our treaty and apprehended him, this is what shall happen from this moment
forward.
What proof does this tribunal have that you would have apprenticed the
boy into your Company?
What proof does it need? The onus is on you, Syndic. You breached the
peace. What proof do you have that I would not have prenticed the boy Turk?
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The Syndic went back to his uncomfortable shifting routine. Bit by bit,
29
women, the old and young.
he was losing, though Ayla was still unclear on what, precisely, he was losing.
Let it not be said that the Syndic of Madrigal is not bound by the Laws of
Fine. The boy is yours. The girl, however, has no such protections. She
Trade of the Harmonious Cities, nor let it be said that the Syndic of Madrigal
was found in the Arsenal barracks. Not only is the Arsenal of Madrigal well
shall allow a breach of the Act of Alliance between the Harmonious Cities and
outside of your borders, Baron, but women and girls are expressly forbidden
the Most Honourable Company.
from the barracks

Nonsense. Intruders do not choose the point of their intrusion. She is no
more guilty than if a footpad knocked her out and threw her in there.
It is therefore the finding of this tribunal that the Apprentice of the Most
Honourable Company of Acrobats, Escapists, and Jugglers be restored to
his master, the Prince of Cats, Baron of Underbelly. It is also the finding of
All the same, Baron, the Arsenal is outside of your borders, as I remind
this tribunal that the City of Madrigal shall offer penalty to the Honourable
you for the second time. To make no mention of the fact that that footpad
Company, which it shall pay with the second intruder, the girl Ayla, as another
would have likely belonged to your Honourable Company.
Apprentice to the Honourable Company.
All the same, Syndic, you breached the treaty, as I remind you for the fifth
He picked up his globe and hastily smashed it down three times. There
time. And while the imaginary footpad of my example may have belonged to
was no pause for the banging to hang in this time. This tribunal is adjourned.
me, the guards in the very real apprehension of my prentice most definitely
The people in the gallery began to shuffle out. The Prince of Cats laid a
belonged to you.
hand on each of their shoulders, addressing Reza and Ayla in turn.
In case youve forgotten the Laws of Trade governing the Harmonious
Thank you for not speaking. The tribunal doesnt care if intruders dont
Cities, Syndicand I can assure you I have not forgotten themit is not enough
know the rules of the land, and loves to watch people walk themselves to the
to make a party whole, as you have done by restoring Turk to me. You must
gallows, so to speak.
also pay a penalty equal to your breach.

The Syndic was shifting again, but Ayla noticed something else. The Syndic
He turned to Ayla, a mischievous twinkle in his pretty eyes. Plus I got to

put that pompous ass in his place, he whispered with a wink.
was staring daggers at her. While Ayla didnt know what the Prince of Cats was
getting at, it was clear to her that the Syndic did.
What is equal to taking an intruder from the Baron of Underbelly? Why,
giving another intruder to the Baron of Underbelly. No other restitution can
The galleries finally emptied out, and on queue the Syndic rose from his
seat, brushed his hands against his robes, turned to leave and, almost as an
afterthought, turned back to the Prince of Cats.
compensate me, Syndic. The intruder Ayla must come with me. Or shall the
Is the ruling to your satisfaction, Baron?
criers call out your breaking the Rules of Trade tomorrow?
The Prince of Cats smiled again, this time without a hint of cruelty; his eyes
The Syndic set his face in an expression so stony that the faces of their
were smiling too, the crows feet becoming more than hints. To my utmost
earlier guards seemed wildly animated in comparison. He looked over the
satisfaction, Syndic, and as he said this he affected a little bow that Ayla noted
gallery, making a slow pass with his eyes over the rich and poor, the men and
was quite mocking under its formality.
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Canto III
Underbelly
Excellent, the Syndic said, and Ayla noticed that the cruel cunning
that had left the Princes face had gone to the Syndics instead, because the
Honourable Company will need every able body it can get.
not forgotten them either. In fact, the law Im remembering most clearly right
now is one of the very laws you brought up. Your astute minds legal acumen
to be him, and he had never found the right shoes to fill until now.
Oh? the Prince of Cats prompted.

You assured me you had not forgotten the laws, and truth be told I have
will no doubt recall the provisions of the Act of Alliance, Baron. That the
Harmonious Cities did not just give your thieves and thugs free reign, but
allowed you to levy your taxes so long as you would answer the call to defend
the Cities from future threat.
And you will also recall that I mentioned you were not privy to all Citywide news. Allow me to rectify that, Baron of Underbelly. Let me tell you why
we are tightening our purse strings. Why we cannot afford your new pets. Why
they would have been better off in the farms than the City.
Youve taken them out of the pot and put them on the fire, Baron. The
Augurs have seen the signs, and they point to the coming of another Wild
Harvest.
And, as Ayla looked at him, the Syndic laughed.
The King of Autumn has risen.
Ayla wasnt sure what that meant, other than it probably couldnt get worse
than that.
eza walked beside the Prince of Cats. He was in awe; this man was like
something out of the stories from his childhood. That awe washed away
all the fears he had felt before. Reza looked up to his father, but he did not want
He occupied his time sneaking glances at him: At his posture, at his step,
at the way he held himself. He wanted to take these mannerisms not to copy
them, but to make them his own. One day he would be the next Prince of Cats;
charismatic and daring and bold and intelligent.
Although Reza wasnt anxious anymore, a lack of anxiety would do nothing
to quell his curiosity, and so he spoke with the Prince of Cats, both to fill
his mind and the time. The Prince, for his part, was open to answering his
questions, at least all but one. Who is the King of Autumn? was the first
question Reza had asked, and the Prince dismissed him with a short reply of
Later.
Other answers, however, were forthcoming:
Where are we?
Were in Madrigal. Its one of the Harmonious Cities. We call them the
Cities of Song. We were in the Halls of Lawwhere you were held and had
your trialand were travelling to Underbelly, where I live and rule. Youve
been there already, this morning, when you were captured.
But where is Madrigal?
Ill wait to answer that question. Theres plenty of time to explain later.
It was impossible for Reza not to notice that the Prince of Cats voice had
somehow changed. His words were clipped and faster now than they were
before the Syndic, where the two men sounded as equals. Now, out of the
presence of the court, the Prince was speaking more like a man from the lower
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class than a man from the ruling class. It was bizarre; the words he used were
the same, but they reminded Reza more of an argot than noble speech.
There was something more pressing about the Prince of Cats speech than
his mannerisms, however. It was what bothered Reza the most since coming
here. Now he had to ask about it, and so he did.
33
Or rather, they all understood each other as if they did.

Im not speaking Turkish. Im speaking MadrigalianLow Madrigalian,
at that. You and your sister are speaking Turkish. But the Charm gives us
perfect harmony.
Around Reza, the city loomed large, alive and poor. The mercantile class
Why are you speaking Turkish?
that had greeted them from their shops when they left the Halls of Law gave
The Prince looked at Reza playfully and gave him a little, knowing smile.
way to street vendors selling whatever wares they could. Rag-and-bone men
Its what makes the Cities of Song so special. Its called the Charm of
pushed their way through throng, moving the refuse of the lower class away
Harmonythats why the Harmonious Citiesand its a very ancient spell.
with them to scrap houses and the waiting merchants. The streets were paved
Long ago, the rulers of the Cities of Song got together and decided that language
with clutterhere some waste, there some slopand slick beneath Rezas feet.
was an obstacle to trade. Why, how many more craftsman or merchants
He hadnt penetrated this deep into the city when hed first arrived, save
or mongers or caravan guards could be freed up if they werent working as
for his captors carting him through, bound and blindfolded. He was as awe-
translators? How much more money would flow? How many more taxes and
struck by Madrigal as he was by the Prince of Cats, not for its majesty (which
tariffs could be levied?
motivated his idolization of the Prince), but for the sheer penury around him.
They consulted with their magicians and asked them if they could cast
a spell just so, that any man, woman, and child inside the borders could
Istanbul was discordant between its wealth and its poverty, to be sure, but here
in Madrigal it seemed completely medieval.
understand one another, as if theyd grown up not only in the same city, but
All the same, the people seemed upbeat, if worn by weather and times. They
in the same house. And they offered them a substantial sum, too, as men who
smiled and waved at the Prince, and called out his name. In turn, the Prince
value money are wont to do.
gave them coins from a leather coinpurse, pressing each one into their palms,
Well, the magicians and the artificers toiled for over a century, and the
and clasping their elbows with a genial smile. The men and women would give
ruling class was satisfied and they trusted their magicians, or perhaps they
quiet thanks, and put the coin somewhere secret and safe. The children would
didnt and history didnt record their pestering to soothe their desire to appear
run off squealing, holding the tarnished coins over their heads like trophies.
magnanimous. Whatever the case was, after scores of years of work, those
magicians and artificers and the engineers they cobbled together put up their
charms and their wards and their other little trinkets, and infused them with
their words.
From Madrigal to the Drowned City of Sonata, and Matins in the east and
Nocturne to the west, and all the rest of the Cities of Song, and the highways
and farms and villages in between, the men then spoke like a single language.
Reza was still taking in the sights around him when Ayla spoke up and, at
last, asked the question Reza feared asking himself. How do we get home?
At that question, the Prince of Cats looked genuinely sad. He stopped
handing out coins, laced his purse to his belt, and placed one hand each on
the shoulders of Reza and Ayla.
You dont.
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They walked in silence through Underbelly for a long while. Tears came
easily to Rezas face, though he tried not to weep. Ayla had abandoned any such
pretence and wept openly, her sobs coming in tiny gasps.
The people of Underbelly gave them a wide berth. They averted their eyes
35
cant go back. Thats what an intruder isone who intrudes from your world
to ours. The tribunal is our way of deciding what to do with them.
That makes sense, Reza thought.
No, it doesnt, he thought.
and pulled their own children away to give the Prince of Cats and his two
He tried to put it together. There was magic, the Prince had said, and he
young charges the space they needed. They seemed to know that this was not
believed it. It explained why all these odd people were speaking perfect Turkish.
the moment to expect alms.
But wasnt there magic and miracles in his world? Hed heard people talk about
A thought came into Rezas head: Was he stronger, trying to be a man, by
it, but hed certainly never seen it for himself.
not sobbing? Or was Ayla stronger, for accepting the pain? Was he avoiding the
Or, he thought, Im dreaming.
pain, though? He looked inside himself for that pain, and found none. There
On the other side of the Prince of Cats, Aylas sobs continued to come.
was only emptiness. Was that what brought the tears? The sudden hole where
home used to be?
It was a long time later, walking through the poorest areas, smelling the salt
If it had been Vikings, at least they could have sent him home. At least they
air from the sea, that the Prince of Cats led them finally to a building. Outside
could have put him on a ship around Europe and across the Mediterranean
hung a sign, painted red letters on a white background, stark against the grey
back to Istanbul.
stone that otherwise seemed to be ubiquitous to the city. It read simply The
And then more thoughts came flooding in. From the ruling, it sounded as
Honourable Company Hall. Again in perfect Turkish, Reza saw.
if one of his other fears had come true: They were Janissaries of a sort. Theyd
The Prince of Cats took hold of the door and pushed. It opened nearly
been given to the Prince of Cats by the Syndic, and all of a sudden he felt very
silently, and in the dim light thrown off by the sconces that hung on the wall,
apprehensive of the Prince. Was his charm all just an act?
Reza could see stairs leading down.
He shrugged loose of the Princes hand, and turned to look at him. From
what felt like so far below the Prince, he was worried his voice would go
unheardor unheeded, at the very least.
Are we your slaves? Reza asked him.
Your new home, the Prince said dolefully.

Reza swallowed hard. Below the darkness seemed to go on forever, judging
by the dots of light that made their way down.
The Prince pulled the door shut, and this time it wasnt silent. As the wood
He saw there, in the Princes face, a look of hurt.
hit the jamb, a loud bang gave Reza a start. Again the Princes arm was on him,
No, of course not!
bracing him.
Then why cant we go home?
Watch your step, the Prince said, and began to descend the stairs.
The Prince of Cats sighed, and the hurt expression melted away, to be
The descent wasnt as bad as Reza had feared. It was perhaps four or five
replaced by one of sympathy and sorrow.

Whatever world youre from, this is not it. Whatever place youre from, you
flights, and then a landing, another door, and past that a hallway. The air down
here was oppressive, though. Thick and wet and damp in a way that made Reza
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miss the Halls of Law, whose air seemed crisp and clear by comparison.
37
look brotherly.
Through that hallway was a massive chamber, circular with spokes leading
Behind him was the woman who had been at this very desk minutes ago,
off to other rooms. It was well lit and Reza couldnt help but notice an immediate
the one the Prince of Cats had called Lady. Reza stared at her, his mouth agape.
change in the atmosphere. The air here, unlike a mere two feet away and over
He felt like an idiot, but no other reaction would do. She was the most beautiful
the threshold, was cool and fresh and breathable. The chamber was deserted,
woman hed ever seen. Dark, dusky skin, with a heart-shaped face framed with
however, save for one figure sitting off across the large expanse, leaning against
black hair so rich it threw off light. Her lips were a cupids bow, open slightly to
a desk, deep into something.
frame perfect, white teeth. Her body was perfect, too. She stood tallnowhere
Lady, the Prince of Cats shouted, get Gahn, and bring him back here.
And send runners to gather all the others.
The woman looked backor at least, Reza thought she did, it was too far to
telland wordlessly and gracefully left the desk, bounding off to another room.
The Prince led them closer to the desk the woman had been leaning over.
near as tall as the man with bells, but at least the Princes equaland curved,
with full breasts and hips and a slender waist. She seemed to know it, too, as
she was dressed in a white bustier with a slit, trailing white skirt that left one
of her long, dark legs exposed to the knee.
Stop staring, shell notice.
It was large, plain, sturdy wood, with a single chair on the far side of it. There
He turned his eyes away from the newcomers to the Prince of Cats. The
was an open book on the desk, full of writing. Here and there Reza could make
Prince looked sour, and Reza was genuinely surprised that anybody could look
out words in the tight, spidery script: Brooch and Necklace and Furs and Salt,
so around this Lady, as well as the jingling man who seemed so jovial.
100 lbs. and, in a parallel column, figures.

The Prince closed the book. Our taxes, he said, and then, Itll be just a
moment. Make yourselves comfortable, please, and he gestured to the large
empty space with a laugh.
Reza wasnt sure what to do with himself. He looked around the empty
space blankly, the cavernous room extending all around him. His new home,
a hole.
Turk, Ayla, please meet Gahn-of-the-Bells and Lady, two masters of the
Honourable Company. Your masters, actually, as youre new apprentices. Youll
learn from them, study with them, and work under them.
Gahn-of-the-Bells spoke first. These are the two truders that popped by
this morning, no? So you beat the horses ass at the Tribunal, no? So why you
lookin so sad, boss?
The Prince of Cats speech was again stilted with notes of formality as it
He was brought out of his minor reverie by the ringing of bells. Jingling,
had been at the tribunal. A good victory wrapped in ill news Ill share later,
getting louder, closer, until the source of the sound loomed into view. A giant
when were all assembled. The moments work is getting these two properly
of a man, bare-chested and well-muscled, with wild, dark hair. His clothing
inducted and under our protection. The Syndic wanted to throw them out of
was a simple, baggy pair of green burlap tied to his waist with a red sash, and
the city, and hell do it if they arent Companymen, he said.
fastened to his pants were dozens (possibly hundreds) of tiny bells, and sandals
Now Lady spoke, and Reza was immediately hypnotized by her breathy
for his feet, the thongs of said sandals having bells woven into them as well.
voice. He was concentrating on the sound, not the words, but if pressed, he
He might have terrified Reza, if not for his gregarious smile, which made him
would swear she said something like, Have they taken their names yet?
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Canto IV
The Induction of Ayla Zeybek into
the Honourable Company
The Prince of Cats gestured to him, and said The boy calls himself Turk,
but is named Reza. It was that that made the victory go from likely to certain
at the tribunal. Ayla is the girls given name; she has taken no name yet.
Is that the night-name he kept mentioning? Reza wondered.
Is that the night-name you kept mentioning? Reza asked.
The same, the Prince said, The Honourable Company takes our names,
we are not given them.
Is my name Turk now?
If you wish. If not, choose another during the ceremony. Its a fortunate
name, though; it won you my protectionand the protection of the city walls.
Reza considered it for a moment. It was a good name, the name of his
people. The Prince of Cats seemed to like it. And, if he were to tell the truth,
he simply couldnt think of a better one. He looked over at his sister, who had
long ago stopped sobbing, but was still struggling to keep her eyes from wetting,
as she was doing now.
I wonder what name Ayla will take, he thought.
I wonder if Ill be apprenticed to Lady, he wished.
t would come to pass that Ayla was apprenticed to Lady. The Prince of Cats
had excused himself and followed one of the spokes of the chamber out,
asking that the giant Gahn-of-the-Bells and Lady start the initiation ceremony
immediately.
Lady approached Ayla and, taking her by the hand, led her off yet another
spoke of the round room to a chamber. Small but not cramped, it was lined
with stone benches on three walls and, in the middle, had a stonework firepit.
Over the firepit was a tall chimney that escaped into the darkness. In front of
the benches were metal drains, and Ayla understood why immediately, as this
room too had a wet about it. In one corner sat a bucket of water and a ladle. In
another corner, tucked underneath the benches, lay some tinder. Lady calmly
gathered the wood from the tinder pile and fed the stonework firepit, before
striking it to flame.
Lady beckoned Ayla to sit and, as she did so, took a seat next to her herself.
Do you have any questions before we start? Lady asked her.
Ayla had many, but no one question competed for prominence, so she
simply shook her head no. Then you can ask as we go, Lady said.
The first step is to choose your night-name. I can already guess you have
a question about that. Its the name that members of the Honourable Company
go by to hide their identities, to work the streets at night. It becomes our new
identity. Your brother will forever be known now as Turk, as the Prince told
the Syndic that it was his night-name. In truth, he had no choice, though the
Prince would want him to feel that he did. You, though, have a choice. And so
all I can say is, where there is choice, there should be meaning.
Lady cupped her hands around Aylas, and looked her in the face. As a peer,
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Ayla noticed, not as a child. Does the name Ayla have a meaning?
body, she knew, as she clasped one wrist in the other hand, covering her pelvis,
It means halo of light around the moon, Ayla answered.
her arms covering her breasts. One foot stood on the other, and her eyes were
Does that meaning make you happy? Lady asked.
downcast.
It did not, Ayla thought. It was girlish, a name made by men who wanted
their daughters to stay children forever and never grow up into women. Men
had strong names, like Aslan, that meant lion, or Galip, that meant victor, or
Alp, that meant hero.
No man, but no woman at all.

Little thing, Lady said, and cupped her hand on Aylas face. Her voice was
sympathetic, neither pitying Ayla nor condescending to her.
Ayla heard the sound of laces running through eyelets, and as she looked
She remembered a story her father had read her, 20,000 Leagues Under the
up Ladys beautiful white bustier had fallen to the ground. Lady looked into
Sea by Jules Verne, and its enigmatic Captain Nemo. She had asked her father
Aylas eyes and smiled. It wasnt a happy smile, but a loving, sisterly one. It
what kind of name Nemo was, and her father told her briefly of the Odyssey;
said I know your sorrow without speaking a word. As she smiled, she undid
that when Odysseus had blinded a Cyclops, he said his name was Outis, or
the clasps of her skirt until it too fell to the ground, and she stood dusky and
no man, so that when the other Cyclopes asked who had blinded him, he
bare, as naked and vulnerable as Ayla.
would tell them no man had blinded him, and they would be on their way.
I was not nearly as beautiful as you are when I was your age, and thats the
The Romans had translated the poem into their own tongue, and Utis became
truth. Its not something Im saying to make you feel better. I know that look in
Nemo, no man in Latin.
your eyes. I once stood like that in front of looking-glasses, too.
Like Odysseus and Captain Nemo, she was in exile now.
She took Aylas hand and led it to her breasts that didnt seem so full now,
And she was certainly no man.
but fought against their weight. Time. And to her face, where she had Aylas
Nemo, Ayla said.
fingers trace the crinkles and creases around her eyes and lips. And time again.
Does that have a meaning you love?
And then to her thighs, where here-and-there there was the mottled texture
It means no man, Ayla replied, to Ladys throaty laughter.
of cellulite. Age. And last to her belly, across a scar just above her pelvis. A
Thats certainly true.
lost child.
The tinder was heating the coals in the pit now, and smoke rose up through
She took a step back from Ayla, who now could not help but notice all
the chimney. Lady threw wet branches on top, and the room filled with steam.
the imperfections. Here wrinkles, there scars, an aquiline nose rather than a
Undress, Lady said.
youthful, gracefully sloping one. But still Lady held her head high and proud,
Ayla felt suddenly very self-conscious. That her breasts were too small,
her black hair still throwing off the light of the wan fire, and (as Ayla couldnt
her hips too small, her arms and legs still awkward and girlish. In front of
Lady, who was every part a woman, she felt awful. No man, she thought, but
no woman yet, either.
Still, she undressed and stood bare and vulnerable. She showed it in her
help but notice) looked all the more beautiful for it.
We are not what we are given by birth, little Nemo. We are what we take
for ourselves, and what we choose to be.
I know how men look at me, and as much as you might covet that, it means
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43
nothing to me. I could befriend all the scum in the city, from the lowliest thug
I do.
who kills the elderly and infirm for the few coins the almoners give them to
And another handful of oil was spilled over Aylas hair.
the highest-born sadist who crushes kittens beneath his feet because he can.
Do you swear to do right by your brothers and sisters of the Honourable
Some would want my body, some would be grateful for whatever mercy and
tenderness and attention they could get before they were brought to the gallows.
It isnt the quantity of those who look at us with desire, whether its for
our bodies or our minds, but the quality of it. Build yourself into the woman
you want to be, and all the world will covet the treasure that you are. The trick
then is finding those who are worthy of that treasure. A single Prince of Cats
or Gahn-of-the-Bells is worth a thousand Syndics.
She smiled and leaned into Ayla conspiratorially. A single Nemo is worth
ten thousand Syndics, she whispered, returning her hand to AylaNemos
cheek and smiling again, this time joyfully.
From the time of your birth your path has been chosen for you, even
your name. But from today forward you choose your name, you choose your
Company?
I do.
The oil came again.
Do you swear to take from those who have too much, to give to those
who have too little, to give bread to those who are hungry, to give comfort to
those who are ill, to give company to those who are alone, and love those who
are unloved by all others?
I do.
By now Aylas body was slick with the oil, and it coated Ladys hands, too.
The ritual went on like this; vows to protect the downtrodden, vows to protect
the Cities of Song, vows to protect the people of Underbelly, vows to never
destiny, and you choose who you are. You will be what you want to be, not
betray a member of the Honourable Company. To each vow asked of her, Ayla
what others make you.
responded in the affirmative. She would protect her new home, she would
We are not the Honourable Company because we stride around mightily
protect her new people, she would learn at the hands of her master, Lady.
to hide our flaws. We are the Honourable Company because when we are weak,
At the end of it, coated with four pewter bowls of warm oil, Lady embraced
we take strength from each other. Because when we have our histories chosen
her. She planted a kiss on her cheek. My apprentice, she said, and then tilted
for us, we choose our futures. We earn respect, we do not demand it. We wear
Aylas head forward and kissed her on the crown as her mother and father did.
no marks, bear no signs, because honour is recognized by sight. It does need
My sister.
to hide behind banners and pennants.

Lady bent over and set her clothes aside, choosing to stay vulnerable. She
took a pewter bowl of thick oil and set it on the coals until it ran thin and its
surface was vibrant with rainbow colours. She took the bowl from the coals
and held it over Aylas head and anointed her with oil.
Do you foreswear the name Ayla and all your past, to choose your own
name and your own future? Lady asked.
She felt a pang of pain and a simultaneous twinge of comfort at the act.
These people would henceforth be the only family she knew.
Lady produced some powdered soap and set about warming water on the
coals. Ayla scrubbed herself as Lady washed her hands and face, until all the oil
was gone and the anointing was well and truly finished. She poured the warm
water over herself and watched bubbles and oily residue throw more rainbows
over the grey stone floor, making their way down the drain.
44
Matthew Best
Canto V
A Coming Harvest
Dress, Lady told her, and Ayla dressed, as did Lady.

Lady extended her hand to Ayla and led her from the room. Come, Nemo
of the Honourable Company, and meet your brothers and sisters.
he Prince of Cats sat at the desk in the center of the Company Hall. His
runners had assembled most of the Companymen, though some were
still out on business, robbing from the rich to feed Underbelly, and would
trickle in in time.
Soon his two new company apprentices would come back from their
initiation ceremonies and hear the stories of his world. The horrible stories, of
the King of Autumn, the Wild Harvest, the husks, and the Seven Saints of the
Fall, the King of Autumns sorcerous generals, once glorious kings and queens
in their own right (according to legend), corrupted beyond salvation.
Could the Prince remember their names? Not their true names as, like the
men and women of the Honourable Company, those were lost to time. But the
names of the legends from centuries earlier.
There was The Flayed Man, who was said to have peeled back his own face
to expose the skull and muscle below, who peeled back the skin of his forearms
and his legs, and who cut out his own heart in a ritual of self-mutilation. The
most trusted of the King of Autumns generals, it was The Flayed Man who led
the front. Brutal, remorseless, and a warrior without peer; The Flayed Man was
(despite his own lack of a face) the face of terror itself.
The Watcher, who was said to be older than time, once a benevolent force
whose immortality turned his boredom and frustration with mankinds selfdestruction to sadism and hatred of the living, and who was also said to have
been such an ancient evil that he taught the King of Autumn nearly all he knew
until the King of Autumn grew so powerful he dominated The Watcher himself.
Soul Harvester, the King of Autumns other teacher, was the one responsible
for the husksshe showed him how to sap the spirit from mens bodies until
only the meat remained, an empty shell, and animate it, and it was she who gave
45
Matthew Best
the Wild Harvest its name. She was at once the weakest and most terrifying
there was mud and flooding and torrential rains. The rivers and lakes formed
of the sorcerers, for where the others had acquired countless powers in their
in her wake hid countless husks, who, taking no breath, would lie in wait to
unnatural spans of existence, her only power was also the only one which
drag men on the march screaming to their deaths in the depths, bolstering
could utterly sap the world of life, and the King of Autumn was the only other
their own ranks. The soldiers prayed for the sun, and Weather obliged them.
personthingknown to have mastered it, something even the millennia-
It baked the earth hot and made men long for the old wet weather, a time
old Watcher could not accomplish. The last record of the Wild Harvest noted
when the plentiful rainfall could be collected in their mouths and helms even
the lifeless bodies of children turning on their parents, and how the armies
if seemingly shallow puddles could not be safely approached. They dropped
that stood against the forces of death were nothing but mass recruitment for
their armour, they dropped their packs, they dropped their weapons, and then
the King of Autumns own ranks, each soldier falling to a husk rising again in
they dropped dead from exhaustion.
46
thrall to evil.
47
And then they rose again.
There was Fall-From-Grace, a sorcerer from the farthest southern reaches,

about whom little was known, but who was suspected of being the one who
The assembled Companymen were staring at him now. How long had it
took the goodness from all but the Watcher, a suspicion based only on his name.
been since he had been lost in the haunting thoughts of what was to come? He
The Mother of a Thousand Poisons, known more briefly as The Mother,
stared down at what he was doing before hed been picturing the missing face
an alchemist without peer, once a holy queen of a long-forgotten realm and
of The Flayed Man from the illuminated manuscripts every child north of the
a kind-hearted healer until her downfall, now a thing that had but to touch
Frostspine Mountains knew. The stories of the Wild Harvest, the burning of
a droplet of mothers milk to leave a baby with a slow, agonizing death and
the Silver Forest, the drowning of Sonata, ending in the Triumph of the North.
who reveled in just such vile things.
There, in the same thin script that dominated the other ledgers, he had
The Keeper, a madman whose knowledge of past, present, and future lead
started to write Brother Turk, Apprentice to Gahn-of-the-Bells of the Honourable
the dark to countless victories. More powerful than any Augurs, the Keeper
Company. He had only gotten as far as the first syllable in Turk before drifting
knew all without a need to divine it, without need for ritual, and without want
off in stress over his responsibilities. The ink had pooled slightly and would
for sanity. The archivists who recorded the Harvest Warthe First Harvest
need to be blotted, he thought absentmindedly, as it began to spread out to the
War, the Prince of Cats realizedsaid that Llan, the hero of the war, realized
nearest fibres, ruining a small portion of the page.
that the only future the Keeper could not see was his own, and exploited this
He finished writing Turks record. In time, Apprentice to Gahn-of-the-
to turn the tide of battle, blinding first The Keeper and thereby the King of
Bells would be struck through, leaving only Brother Turk of the Honourable
Autumn and the rest of his seven evil saints to the plans of the Harmonious
Company, his apprenticeship remembered but no longer necessary, as it always
Cities and the Union of the North.
had been for their kind.
Last was Weather, whose name told of her primary power. The armies who
stood against her before her defeat at first learned that where there was battle,
He returned his hand to the task and scrawled Sister
, Apprentice to
Lady of the Honourable Company, leaving a blank space to record Aylas night-
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48
name when the initiation was complete.
49
That was over, though. A long forgotten past, even if it had been only half
He looked out over the assembled members of Honourable Company. How
a decade earlier. The Company had elected him, barely twenty at the time, to
had he gotten to be their Baron? He used to believe it was his competence, his
lead them. And leadership had been enjoyable; sparring with the Syndic, giving
charisma, his genuine love for his people. He had believed Baron of Underbelly
the poor of Madrigal hope, giving the rich a reason to lock their doors, and
was a title that carried with it a responsibility that he was able to dodefinitely
getting a laugh from how poorly they locked them.
not the only one able, as Lady had had her name in contention as well, and
But nownow the responsibility of leadership felt the heaviest that it had
she was most definitely his equal in all things save being able to grow a beard.
since the Harvest War, he was sure. Looking out at these faces he saw were
They had flipped a coin then, when the vote had come down to the two,
staring back at him in anticipation, he wondered if he could bring himself to
for which would bear the responsibility of leadership; loser of the coin toss
tell them that, as had happened seven centuries earlier, their skills would be
won the title. He had made it that far, and he felt that that spoke slightly to his
the eyes and ears of the Cities of Song and all the souls north of the Frostspine.
abilities, his humility be damned.
He wondered if he could tell them that in the coming months half of them or
Gahn wasnt the wittiest, but he was a wonderful leader for a gang of a
dozen men. He lived for the crew, and wouldnt want or enjoy the responsibility
of the barony. He would be a perfect model for Turk. The Prince had seen
more would meet their ancestors in the grave.

He wondered how he could tell that to two children he had just informed
would never see their homes again.
the way the boy looked at him, looked up to him, and he wanted him to look
to Gahn-of-the-Bells instead, whose size came from his personality and not
The task was easier than he thought. Lady presented Sister Nemo, and the
whatever animal husbandry had made him a giant. A perfect leader for a man,
Prince of Cats duly recorded her name. Gahn-of-the-Bells presented Brother
but a terrible leader of men.
Turk. The Company welcomed them formally. And then the Prince spoke.
There was Widow, now an old woman whose night-name was accurate to
Brothers and sisters of the Honourable Company, may you now listen
her age (though that hadnt always been so) who would have lead the Company
to my words and keep them only to the company. Our two newest members
if she hadnt been so content hovering about being everybodys mother.
know the words I am about to speak but not their meaning. The rest of you
Leadership interfered with the joy she felt when she took the coins the sale of
know the meaning of the words youve yet to hear. In a moment Ill be stealing
the companys taxes brought in and pressed them into the hands of hungry
all your innocence.
little children in Underbelly.

There had been The Night Crawler, gone now. He would have very likely
taken the reign had he not been struck down by a wagon whose horses had
panicked. A fluke crushed the neck of the greatest acrobat the Company had
ever known, struck down in his thirties, a truly skilled leader who eclipsed
both the Prince and Lady.
The Syndic spoke briefly to me after the tribunal. Taunted me in his defeat,
I suppose. He told me that the King of Autumn has returned, and another Wild
Harvest is coming.
The Prince of Cats stopped speaking. In the dark of the room, he heard
men and women gasping, and Turk and Nemo looking perplexed.
We will honour our treaty, of course. We will do all we can to train our new
Matthew Best
apprentices, and get them ready for the coming times. All of you are expected
If he said the augurs had seen the signs of a Wild Harvest, they had. If he said
to fight against the darkness. If you choose not to fight, you may leave, but
the King of Autumn had risen, he had.
50
know this: I am invoking the blood exit.

There was silence as the news sank in; not one person protested. The
blood exit was an ancient rule of the Honourable Company that decreed that
51
Have the Augurs ever seen false? the Prince asked. Im afraid not. The
Syndic is many things, but a liar isnt one of them, and the Augurs are many
things, but blind isnt one of them.
no member may leave the Company, save by death. It hadnt been enforced in
The blood exit then, how is it to be done?
centuries, and members had been allowed to retire if they chose, until now.
The Prince of Cats hadnt considered this. He had invoked the rule on a
But the Prince of Cats would not allow a single able body or keen mind go to
whim of firm leadership, to show the gravity of the situation. Hed given no
waste, not in this moment. They could fight to live or choose to die.
real thought to it other than that his men and women would fight however
The last war for a free northa living northwas nearly a millennium
ago. They were the days of heroes, but heroes are only the ones fortunate enough
they could. How he would take the lives of his own people hadnt entered his
mind at the time. And he was deeply disturbed that Feather was asking this.
to live, or those who die spectacularly. The rank and file dead are forgotten,
By the Companymans choice. Its their exit, they may leave through
as we will be. But we will do our part, as we have sworn to do. We will do our
whatever door they wish, the Prince answered. Then, Why are you asking
part because we need to do it.
this, Feather?
I love each and every one of you. I love you as your Baron, your company
I dont want to be one of them things, Feather answered.
brother, and your friend. And in the coming months, I will say goodbye to
Again the silence. In the dim, the Prince looked towards the sound of
some of you for the last time. Know that I do not do that lightly. Know that
the voice and saw Feathers large frame standing there, shivering in fear. The
my decision to spend our lives is taken with the thought that each life I spend
feisty lieutenant of Gahns looked genuinely afraid. Hed seen the man single-
will buy more lives in turn. And please know that your names are recorded in
handedly fight a gang of a dozen stevedores and seamen armed with planks and
the Company annals. You will never be forgotten.
win just last week, when the impromptu group tried to stop the Honourable
Still an air of silence surrounded them, and nobody spoke.
Company from offloading a single crate of furs bound for the Clerks Ward
If any brother or sister has something to say, say it now, the Prince said.
from a shipment of hundreds.
A voice spoke up. Is there any chance the augurs have seen false?
He recognized the voice as Feather, a young, burly man who was known
And he was shivering at the thought of becoming a husk. He was asking

to die to avoid it. He was asking his Barons permission to die.
for his fearlessness and general joviality that could be replaced in a moment
This was also something he hadnt considered. How many of his men and
by his hot-headed temper. One of Gahns gang, on whom that giant man had
women would choose to die out of a fear not of fighting against evil, but of
rubbed off on quite considerably, since (like Turk) Feather had been one of
rising again in service to it? Of being stolen away and made to throttle their
his apprentices.
mothers and fathers and children?
The Syndic was pompous and self-righteous, but the Syndic was no liar.
Could he refuse them that right? He couldnt, the Prince realized. He could
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52
53
not tell the Companymen, who prided themselves on their freedom of choice
He sat them down, and he told them of the Saints of the Fall. Of the man
and of identity, that opting to deny the King of Autumn another set of hands
with no face and the poisoner and the mad prophet and the eternal evil and
was any less valid than opting to lend those hands to the innocent people of
the mad seer and the bringer of storms and droughts and the corruptor and
the Cities and the Merchant Coast.
the stealer of souls. He saw the terror in their eyes, and he despaired. And then
The weight of leadership felt heavy again on his shoulders, as he realized
he told them what despair really was.
he had laid down an absolute rule, one that was meant to unite them, and they
He told them of the King of Autumn.
hadas Companymen are wont to doimmediately found a loophole that
There is no evil I have described that can match the King of Autumn.
would divide them, fracture them, and take their lives in the end.
Nobody knows his true name, nobody knows where hes from. Soul Harvester
And he understood their reasoning completely.
called her lifeless servants husks, and her method of making them a harvest,
Feather, the Prince said, if thats what you want to do, thats your choice.
and so the people named him the King of Autumn.
Thats every member of the Honourable Companys choice. But please, do not
make that choice lightly.
Nothing I have told you of The Flayed Man or The Mother of a Thousand
Poisons can compare to his barbarity and cruelty. Nothing I have told you of
There was nothing left to say, not to the Company anyway. The darkness
The Watcher can compare to his power. Nothing I have told you of Fall-From-
was coming, and it wasnt the comforting darkness they lived in. They all
Grace can compare to his ability to corrupt. Each of those seven evils answered
understood that, all but two. His new wards and apprentices needed to know
to only one thing: The King of Autumn. Folk from all over the land willingly
the turmoil ahead.
threw themselves in service to the King of Autumn, even though all who had
The Prince of Cats addressed the congregation of thieves again. You know
what we face. Tell any not present, and tell them in whispers. I dont want to
wake to news of families in Underbelly who felt as Feather does; that death is
a preferable route.
The thieves, lockpicks, and knife-throwers of the Honourable Company
shuffled out of the chamber.
before had died at his hands, so potent was the fear of him that a moment in
his service seemed like an eternity left alive.
We do not know what he looks like, save for the drawings in the records
of the Harvest War. No one has ever seen his face. Cloaked in black feathers,
a stags skull for a crown.
In the Harvest War, villages and cities fell. The entire City of Sonata was
cast into the sea. The people of the north, adults and children alike, were
The Prince of Cats led Nemo and Turk to his private chambers. Decorated
impaled on spikes in forests of bodies that went on for miles. It was said that
in goods personally stolen by past Barons, it was lavish, a symbol of office that in
he would stand for days in those forests of bodies, making no motion or noise,
no way matched the humility that lay beneath the Princes cavalier demeanour.
taking no food or drink, simply standing still amongst the dead as the husks
These poor children. Theyd just been told they would never again see their
wrought by him and Soul Harvester impaled whole families facing each other
home. And now they needed to be told that they must fight, or they must die.
And they needed to be told what they would die to, if and when the time came.
so they could watch those they loved die in agony.

Each of those Saints of the Fall had a motive, a corruption, that ate at
Matthew Best
them. As evil as they were, they had a reason, or were grim reflections of their
Canto VI
A Hole Where Home Used to Be
54
righteous selves. The King of Autumn simply was. He existed, and he existed
so that he might be the wake in which all life dies.
I must demand you stand in the fight against him. I will not ask this of
you, I will tell you. You saw a man out there, Feather, prefer death over facing
this. Death comes for us all, men and women, young and old, and now it is
coming in the form of the King of Autumn.
He stopped talking. Turk and Nemo didnt move or speak, only looked at
him in fear. Nemo took her brothers hand in hers, and the Prince saw him
squeeze his fingers tightly around the offered hand. If you have anything to
ask, ask it now, the Prince said.
It was the girl who spoke. Well fight, but how? she asked, with a look
towards her brother, who simply nodded his agreement.
The Honourable Company was the eyes and ears of the Union of the
North. That was how we fought. Our duties were not to be soldiers of the line.
We hid in the shadows, as we still do, and we brought back whispers, though we
brought them to the Syndicate and not each other. We went where no soldier
could go, and it will be the same now.
Gahn and Lady will train you, as Id always planned, even before the Syndic
told us the news and invoked the alliance to defend the cities, the Prince said.
In truth where was no need for the Companys treaty with the Cities. There
was no need to call upon them to defend, because what else could they do? It
was a choice of risk dying in the fight, or be guaranteed to die cowering.
If and when the King of Autumn appeared on the horizon of Madrigal as
he had Sonata when he sunk that city into the sea seven hundred years ago,
the men and women and children would watch him march over the slippery,
piled dead, and they would know the number of their days.
55
eza was alone in Gahns chambers. The giant man had left him when
Reza asked for time to gather his thoughts. Hed placed a massive hand
on Rezas shoulder and said, Yes, I hear you, not a word more, and then left.
Hed asked Gahn to go because the shock was wearing off. He felt very
suddenly alone. He felt alone and nakeder than when the giant had been coating
him in oil and he was afraid now, afraid all of a sudden, afraid of being alone,
afraid of never seeing his parents again, afraid of this place, afraid of Gahn and
the Prince and even Lady, afraid of Ayla, afraid shed be mad at him, afraid that
hed lose the only family he had left, and naked, so naked and alone and afraid.
He wouldnt be showing anybody he was nearly a man. He wouldnt be
showing anybody anything but the tears that very suddenly started running
down his face again.
I knew it, Reza thought, I knew Ayla was right to cry and I wasnt right to
hold it back.

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T H E C I T I E S OF S ONG

THE CITIES OF SONG

The Cities of Song First Folio

Introduction: A Cosmic Kiss 9

The Cities of Song First Folio

There are many places most of us will never see.

The Cities of Song First Folio

No, he thought to himself, I am fourteen and nearly a man. I am not to be

he boy woke up on a shore. He had no memory of how he got to the

him for it.

weave through the jostle of peoplepoor looking, hardy looking, hocking

The Cities of Song First Folio

Rezas appearance, and perhaps was as confused by Rezas strange dresshis

still-wet night clothesas Reza was by those around him.

court, and that Reza would be brought before an Intruders Tribunal.

watch outside his cell.

was bewildered as to where they were.

The Cities of Song First Folio

Where the hell is the Free City of Madrigal? he wondered.

Where the hell is the Free City of Madrigal? he asked.

end up in a Vikings harem.

Ayla scoffed at the idea.

The Cities of Song First Folio

The Cities of Song First Folio

a precious metal coveted by the avaricious and decadent.

etched into his face.

was one of stony silence, unreadable to Ayla.

The Syndic looked less than pleased.

pause that let the sound echo about the chamber.

Who are you? The man asked.

will speak for the intruders?

Reza answered first. Im a Turk, from

Aturk? Fine. And you? he asked, turning to Ayla.

Not Aturk, just Turk, and my name Reza continued.

Fine. Turk, not Aturk. Fine, fine. And you, girl?

Apologies, came the answer, I had a little more information to gather

Reza, also known as Turk. All the better.

The Cities of Song First Folio

He turned to the dais and spoke. Syndic, shall we proceed?

dispense with formalities

Prince, the blond man interrupted.

Excuse me? the Syndic asked.

echoes of the Syndics globe.

My name is The Prince of Cats.

The Tribunal will not address you as Prince.

You said we were to dispense with formalities. Baron is my title, Prince

The Prince of Cats is your night-name

The night-name is just another formality you asked we dispense with.

said, allow me to make myself comfortable.

fear was a uniting factor.

The Cities of Song First Folio

but all the Cities of Song against the King of Autumn

Honourable Company recognizes as a valid tax to be levied at the discretion

at him and gave his hand the slightest squeeze.

The Syndic had graduated from lividity to apoplexy. He punctuated each

who live under my protection, he gestured to the impoverished members of

the gallery; weathered people in weathered clothing, their faces as stained by

grease and bleached by sun as their clothes.

I question, Syndic, the Prince of Cats continued, if you wanted to

Prince, the Prince of Cats corrected.

days. What say you to the contrary, Baron?

Intrusion is not a criminal fault, Syndic. And exiling two intruders is a

The Cities of Song First Folio

in violation of Underbellys autonomy, were they not?