The Will of the Many (Hierarchy, #1)

by James Islington

CHAIN YOUR ANGER IN THE dark, my mother used to tell me, and it will only thrive.

The power to protect is the highest of responsibilities, Diago. When a man is given it, his duty is not only to the people he thinks are worthy.

“You should be glad you’re nervous,” he told me finally. I remember laughing bitterly, sure he was joking. “It’s true.” He was always so gentle. “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.”

“They really don’t know what to make of you, you know. Between the naumachia and what you did to Eidhin, running the Labyrinth one minute and stupidly injuring yourself the next… well. You’re not boring.”

I warned you from the start that the Telimus name is not universally beloved. And even if I had not, I know you understand that our world does not run on merit alone. I chose you because I expected there to be obstacles. That is what separates us, Vis. There are those who see what should be, and complain that they do not get their due. And then there are those who see what is, and figure out how to use it to their advantage. Or at the least, overcome it.”

“They ask something small of you. A thing you would prefer not to do, but is not so terrible. You think you are working your way up, but in fact they are changing you. Moulding you into what they think you should be, one compromise at a time.” He says it simply, but there’s rock-hard belief beneath the words. “I am not suggesting you should have ignored what Scitus said. 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.”

“Must be nice, thinking that beating the same five people all the time makes you an expert.”