The Will of the Many (Hierarchy, #1)

by James Islington

Something has been taken from them. They’re broken in ways they don’t understand, and it makes them fodder in a fight.

“A little fight from the underdog can be fun, Vis, but too much becomes a statement.

“Gaufrid.” I eye his attire. “Lose a bet?” “Ha. Ha. My wife’s choice, if you must know.” “One way to make sure you’re faithful, I suppose.”

“What if I can’t find anything? Or I get caught?” “Look harder, and don’t.”

“Sytrecian. It’s more of an insult. The rough translation is someone who could ‘brighten a room with their absence, or dazzle it with their corpse.’ ”

“They say that young men know they will die, but only old men believe it. For some reason, I don’t think that’s true of you, Vis.

“The mechanics are too difficult to explain, at your level of education.

Anyone who does not resist them, Diago, is lending them their strength. Is complicit in all that they do. The Octavii are not just guilty—they hoist the entire Hierarchy on their shoulders.

But like everything else, the Hierarchy dangles it. Always a way up, even for the condemned. Always a way out from under the misery they’ve heaped on you, if you work hard enough. Fight hard enough. Take your chances.

YOU LET THEM STAND ON YOUR SHOULDERS, ALL FOR THE DREAM OF ONE DAY BEING ABLE TO STAND ATOP OTHERS’.

You fight the tyranny of the many, or you are one of them.” He hangs his head again. Tired. “Silence is a statement, Diago. Inaction picks a side. And when those lead to personal benefit, they are complicity.”

He’s still smiling. Beaming, in fact, to the point where I wonder whether there’s some terrible news he’s eager to share with me.

“If there’s something you should be telling me, I assume you will.” I am curious about no small number of things, but it’s not fair to sate my curiosity at the expense of her pain.

“You’re brighter than most, Vis—but bright doesn’t mean brave, or caring, or heroic. More often it means the opposite.

“Oh. That… must have been awful.” “Such were the times,”

“A man will always wonder what might have been, but a wise one recognises fortune when it comes. For all I left behind, life has not been unkind to me.”

“There comes a point in every man’s life where he can rail against the unfairness of the world until he loses, or he can do his best in it. Remain a victim, or become a survivor.” Kadmos lets the cloth fall to cover the scars again. “Submitting was a burden, but never one I would trade for the alternative.

“Nervousness means there’s a fear to be faced ahead, Diago. The man who is never nervous, never does anything hard. The man who is never nervous, never grows.” He stroked my hair. “Do all you can to think of it as an opportunity. A blessing. No matter how it makes you feel in here.”

This is a second chance. It will be beyond anyone’s power to give you a third.”

I raise my mug. “To our enemies, and the destructions they bring upon themselves.”

The Republic rewards people who take, not who deserve.”

“A system built on promise, and therefore on greed,”

Bleeding can be staunched, Vis. Wounds heal. The cut’s only worth it if there’s poison on the blade.”

“You cannot be free if you are afraid to die.”

I give him a cheerful, reassuring pat. “I’m touched by your concern, though.” “I am concerned that our Praeceptor may walk away without being embarrassed.” He glares at me. “Do not dare to take that opportunity away from me.”

I am just saying that in this place… each man has to find his line. Has to find it ahead of time, and be resolved never to cross it.”

“I’ll be fine. I can’t worry about it forever.” “I mean, you can. If you want to. Not that I’m worried, of course. Obviously. But I can imagine how upset Emissa would be if something happened to you.”

The weak and poor endure in the Hierarchy because the alternatives are harder, not because there are none. They know the system is wrong, but they choose not to think or speak up or act because they ultimately hope that in their silence, they will gain. Or at the very least not have to give more than they have already given.

If you do not hold them accountable, nothing will change. Don’t mistake inaction for neutrality.”

my father often used to say that the Hierarchy’s true power was not in Will, but in their ability to distract those who gave it up.

But the memories remain. I stand there for a minute. Two. Just being there. Feeling the pain of it, but not wanting to stop.

Suspicion is easy to prevent, far harder to dispel.

“And this is the risk of our world, Diago. The flaw of our system is in its head. In us. The qualities of a king change the kingdom. And not one of us is perfect enough to have a right to lead.”

“Must be exhausting, being him.” “I can understand you,” Eidhin growls. “I know,” replies Callidus chirpily. “The question is, can you explain why being you is not exhausting? In Common?” “I can explain how injured you are likely to be in a moment.” “This is nice,” I interject with a grin.

He meets my gaze firmly. “You are my friend, Vis. But there are more important things in life.

“Why are you doing this?” I jerk my head at the Fourths’ bodies, never taking my eyes from him. The man looks disappointed. “That is not the question, young man. That is not an exchange worth having.”

“You mourn your friend.” He cups my cheek in his hand. “But death is a doorway, Son. You will see him again. No one is ever truly lost.”

“Death is only meaningless if it does not change us, Vis.”