Page 29 of Soul Hate

M arket Square is a roasting tray. The heat is so thick it clings to your fingers and clogs your nose. My tunic is plastered to my back. The hood of my cloak is melted into my hair. A bead of sweat runs from my hairline, dribbling across my cheek to balance on the very edge of my dry lips.

Market Square is busy as usual, but something is wrong. The stall owners aren’t yelling. People move with their heads down, not looking anyone in the eye. Everyone avoids the three large rings of Church Militia stationed around that Watchtower, giving them as much room as possible.

The Militia stand with their backs to the awful building, their black and white cloaks pooling lifelessly to the ground at their feet. Their polished weapons glint in the light blinding all who dare to sneak a glance. They glare at the crowd, unfriendly grimaces etched into their features.

I lick my lips, the sweat instantly dissolving on my parched tongue. I’m buried deep into the crowd, having been here for a few hours now. Watching. Waiting. Making sure we haven’t missed too much. I have no doubt Bellandi is in that building—why else would all these soldiers be outside?

I take a steadying breath, waiting for the signal. For it all to begin.

My pulse flies beneath my clammy palms. My heart throbs against my lungs. Around the city, my people—my friends—are lying in wait with a bunch of homemade traps waiting to set them off. Ready to fight back.

I hope they work.

There she is.

Michelle runs into Market Square, slipping to an uneasy stop. Her chin held high, dark hair shining in the relentless sunshine, she searches for me. Her eyes skip past the throng of other civilians before she winks, flashing me the signal.

Time to get to work.

Michelle taps one of her actor colleagues on the shoulder before disappearing amongst the crowd in search of the next one.

“Hey! Maineri! Over there! Don’t run! Maineri! Maineri!” A voice rings out—the actor giving it his all before he goes racing down the street. Ahead of him is a girl in a short tunic and wig, sprinting away as fast as she can.

Instantly the Church Militia react, a group breaking off from their large position and chasing after the actors.

“Hey, look, it’s Patricelli!” cheers another actor. “How are you here? No, don’t run! Patricelli, wait!”

Two more actors run, and another large group of Militia charge after them.

The commotion of the crowd gets louder. The Militia Captain starts barking orders, dragging Bellandi out of his slimy burrow inside the building. He walks purposefully down the steps, teeth gritted as he scans through the crowd.

By his side is my target, Captain Collier.

I take a deep breath, praying to whomever cares to listen. Let me find the right words.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Colourful explosions fly over the heads of the buildings. People gasp, some scream and everyone starts moving. People push up against the Church Militia, mingling them with the crowd and allowing actors to reveal their Militia disguises.

“Come on, this way!” shouts one fake Militia actor encouraging a breakaway group of Militia to go after the explosions.

“This way! Come on, quick, they’re over here!” shouts another actor.

The layers of the Militia peel away like an onion, sprinting down the roads after fakes. My eyes flicker to the servants’ door, a sharp wave of relief hitting me as I catch Idris’s shadow slipping inside.

My turn.

I move forwards, weaving through the throng of confused people. Captain Collier marches through the crowd, trying to make sense of what’s going on around him.

I duck and weave desperately past the bustling people, trying to reach him in time.

“Captain!” I gasp, my hand closing around his forearm. His head snaps to me, hazel eyes narrowing.

“Maineri,” he hisses with venom. My heart shatters. Ice stakes through my lungs. Mistake. This is a terrible mistake.

He sweeps close, pressing his sword against my throat. “You traitor!”

“No. No, Captain, I swear,” I breathe, the edges of his blade cutting the soft flesh of my throat.

“You blew up my prison.”

For Fate’s sake! How had we not thought of that? Idiots!

“How could you?” Collier’s face is torn with loathing. “I trusted you. You’re Electi.”

“Captain, I will explain everything, I swear?—”

“You betrayed Halice. You stole from us. Bellandi showed me everything.”

“No, Captain, I swear. It’s him—it’s all him,” I plead. “Bellandi is the thief. Serra is his scapegoat. I know the truth—you have to believe me.”

“Why should I?”

“Why else would I be stupid enough to come here? To try to talk to you?—”

“ENOUGH!” roars Bellandi, “EVERYONE, STOP MOVING THIS INSTANT! DRAW YOUR SWORDS!” The Militia do as commanded, standing their ground and brandishing polished weapons. The entire crowd gasps in horror, before terrified screams erupt as some people scramble to leave.

No.

No, no no.

I need more time. Collier doesn’t believe me yet.

“NO ONE LEAVE! EVERYONE QUIET!” Bellandi stalks in front of the building, glaring at the people.

“This is a trick. A dirty trick,” Bellandi mutters to himself, eyes manic as they bounce around the faces of the people in the crowd. A psychotic smile stretches over his lips when he sees Captain Collier with a sword to my throat.

“Well, well. You found her.”

People shuffle nervously, parting the crowd between me and him. They whisper to each other, confused and afraid. Bellandi’s smirk says it all as he spreads his arms wide.

“Good people of Halice! You have been lied to!” Bellandi starts. My heart sinks. “Renza Di Maineri has stolen from you. She has robbed this city in its time of grief!”

“You dirty little—” I start shouting.

“Enough,” snarls Captain Collier pushing the blade closer to my throat and forcing me silent. I glare at Bellandi, standing tall with my chin held high. I will not show fear. I will not let him shake me.

I’ve been caught. I’m a dead girl walking—it’s only a matter of minutes now. But I still have a job to do.

I have to convince Collier.

“Renza Di Maineri killed Nouis Rizaro, the hero in our hour of need, in a fit of violent rage. Because he uncovered the truth of her treason. Thankfully, before he died, he told me what she’s been doing. The crimes she’s committed against you, good people. And now, she will pay for her actions. Captain, bring her here.”

“No! You’re the traitor! You betrayed the people!” I scream, fighting against Collier’s grip as he starts to drag me towards Bellandi. I dig my heels into the dusty stone pavement, thrashing against his marble grip.

“Citizens of Halice, let this be a lesson. See this as the punishment for all those who go against the will of Fate,” Bellandi sneers.

“Halicians, I beg of you, don’t fall for his lies,” I scream at the top of my lungs, fighting with every step as they drag me up onto the steps. “Cardinal Bellandi blew up the Grand Temple. Why else was he not there for service? Why else would he return with a Militia he’s used to beat us down, to scare us in our own homes. To stop you asking questions. To stop you working out the truth.”

“Enough of this?—”

I’m dragged next to Bellandi, Collier forcing me to my knees in front of him. My knees sting against the stone floor, but I keep shouting, keep screaming to anyone who would listen.

“An army is on its way here right now. An army that will slaughter and destroy. Murder our children, rip away our freedom once and for all.”

“Enough drama.” Bellandi sighs dramatically like it’s all beneath him. “Captain, do your job. Execute her.”

“Why else would he want me quiet?” I scream, turning desperately to Captain Collier, “Why else would he want me dead? He stole from my bank to pay the army. He killed the Electi to have an excuse to bring his men inside the city, to take it from us. Bellandi is the traitor.”

“Captain, I already explained to you?—”

I turn back to Bellandi, screaming so loudly my throat might be shredded. “You lied. You used my Soulhatred to turn Idris Patricelli and I against each other. But we figured you out. Idris and I worked out the truth. We defy you. For the people of Halice, we defy the gods themselves! You’re a traitor! A dirty, bloodthirsty traitor!”

“Your wicked lies won’t save you now,” barks Bellandi, face pulling tight with a sneer. “Captain.”

Silence reigns over the square. Collier glances between us both, mouth thinned and eyes wide.

“Captain,” Bellandi snarls. “You know your orders—execute her.”

“Please. Believe me,” I plead with Collier, staring into his brown eyes. “Even if you kill me, please, please, believe me. The army is coming. You need the City Guard together. You need to fight back.”

“If this were real, then where is Idris Patricelli?” smirks Bellandi. “You say you worked together, so where is he?”

Captain Collier hesitates. The sword in his hand quivers as he stares at me with narrow eyes. My pulse mimics a landslide, crashing and rumbling and tumbling chaotically through my body. My breath rushes in and out of my lungs. My fingers tingle.

The bells ring. Tears of fear and joy slide down my face, a frantic laugh slipping from parched lips. I close my eyes in relief. Everyone turns their head up to the clear, glass domed roof to see him there, Idris Patricelli yanking on the bell ropes with all his strength.

Idris did it. The gates will close.

“We can keep the army out. We can fight them off,” I gasp, unable to hold back the smile.

“You and Idris … really are working together,” Captain Collier realises loudly. The questions on his face make his hands tremble.

“They’re traitors together. Can’t you see that—” Bellandi starts.

“Then why ring the bells? Why come here, and risk all this just to close the gates?” demands Collier sharply. “Unless they really, truly believe an army is coming.”

Bellandi scrambles for an answer. His grey eyes fly around the square, searching for an answer to spring from anywhere.

Heads snap to movement.

A child climbs onto one of the tables. I know him. Maso, from the school. His dark hair barely pops above the crowd. Determination mingles with nerves as he starts shouting.

“The Di Maineri gave me books. Gave all the kids books. Where else in the world can all the kids learn? Nowhere—I checked my atlas! But that didn’t stop them. The Di Maineris did better, they gave us better, so I believe them. I believe Renza Di Maineri!”

I could cry. Maso is so brave. Gratitude and tears swell like a noose around my throat. But relief wins out pulling the foot off my lungs, finally letting me breathe properly for the first time today.

Another man starts talking, Franco. The sun bouncing off his soft mousy hair as he looks around at the people next to him.

“The Patricellis have brought industry to our city, and provided strong, steady jobs. They have kept my family in work for generations. If Patricelli says it’s so, then I believe him. I believe Idris Patricelli.”

“The Di Maineri sponsor the Garden,” shouts Michelle, and I can feel the laugh and love bubbling up inside me as a stray tear rolls down my cheek. “Our city is an international beacon of science and art. I believe Renza Di Maineri.”

“The Patricelli have fought crime,” says Captain Collier far more quietly, turning to face Bellandi as his hand goes to his sword. “They’ve always ensured that the City Guard is well funded and well trained. They’ve always ensured fair and considered punishment. Halice is a safe city, and that’s down to them. I believe Idris Patricelli.”

Cries ring out from around the square. Some with stories. Some with just gratitude. It all blends together. But those words stand out.

“I believe Renza Di Maineri.”

“I believe Idris Patricelli.”

Honour, gratitude, relief, determination. It all mingles into a sensation both suffocating and empowering. My heart throbs; my blood sings with energy. Every muscle in my body wants to run and scream and fight and sing. Tears of joy jerk from my eyes, seeing them.

Them. My people. Their power is breathtaking. This is the beautiful, fighting spirit in the Halician people. The heart of our community.

“Don’t let them take our city. Don’t let them take our homes. For our futures, for our freedom. For Halice!” I shout at the top of my lungs, punching towards the sky. The crowd erupts with cheers, the noise all but deafening.

“Get her. Kill them! Kill them all!” snaps Bellandi. His face has lost any semblance of colour.

Collier spins to face the Church Militia in their black and white cloaks. They’re quicker. The vicious silver metal slashes through his shoulder and into his heart. Collier drops to the stone stairs as his blood sprays over my face. My screams of horror melt into the roars of anger from the crowd as I try to fight for him. Two Militia grab my arms, hauling me towards the Watchtower behind Bellandi. Collier lies, eyes staring unblinkingly at the Halician sun, as he’s suddenly swallowed by the advancing angry mob.

“No. Get off me.” I resist, throwing my weight as much as I can but it’s useless. They’re so much stronger, I’m dragged out of the baking sunshine. Around me the people overwhelm the Militia, knocking them down. Hitting, kicking, fighting back however they can. A swarm of Halicians climbs the steps towards the building. Towards us.

But the large black doors are slammed shut. A large plank of wood comes down locking it in place.

Leaving me at the mercy of Bellandi.