“Onward!” Horace cried. “Come on you useless Slummers move on.”

Alsace looked on with disinterest. This was the fourth or fifth recruitment session they had held. The Emperor had been busy with his own preparations, and moving others from across the Empire into the city. She had been forced to stay with his group of wives and concubines, tucked away in the Palace. Then again, she had been given her own room and chose not to socialise as much as possible. She had heard talk of the concubines being married off to secure alliances, and she wanted to be as far from that conversation as possible. The Emperor had spoken to her once more since then to explain that if she didn’t do as she was told and get the Slummers on his side to gather him an army, he would hunt down Jano and kill him personally. Though she suspected he was attempting to arrange that in any case.

All other orders had been largely left to Horace to distribute. He tutted as he looked her up and down. “I still don’t know why you’re here, woman. These Slummers are best ordered around and with enough force they’ll do anything we ask. Look how broken they are. They would readily fight each other rather than attempt to fight us or the Guard. It is pathetic really.”

Horace was a thin man of middling height, but his face lit up when he was shouting and spitting on those he thought below him. He was also the kind of person who enjoyed recording numbers in intricate detail on his ledgers and making plans, and back ups of plans. And back ups of the back ups. Which is one of the reasons they had been put together by the Emperor.

A line of Slummers crowded across the training yard in the Middle. The yard was flanked by two grey watchtowers which overlooked the dusty yard. It had previously been the Guard’s training centre and they weren’t overly happy with the fact that the Emperor had commandeered the use of it for training people that they were used to locking up. Or that their numbers had been bolstered by waves of the undead who only responded to the Emperor directly.

“Okay, next.” Alsace said, wiping the sweat from her brow and she wondered how long this day could possibly last.

A skinny man, even for a Slummer, approached the wobbly wooden desk which had formed her workstation for the last week. “Profession, Class and interest in the Emperor’s Royal Army?” She tried to sound as nice as possible, as she could overhear Horace talking down to the candidate standing before him, spitting words vociferously.

The man trembled even more when she smiled. “Workhouse, Class Nine and I’ll take anything I can get for the money.” Alsace hesitated, flashing another smile and trying to appear non-threatening. At first, they had all reminded her of Jano and she felt a longing sensation each time, wondering if he was alive and where he might be. She also felt a great deal of pity for the applicant, though even she had to admit, it was slowly wearing thin.

She located the book which she had compiled, her eyes flicked to the section harshly listed as ‘unskilled and lower Class.’ Generally, those who spent their days in the workhouse fell into this category and they had a certain ratio to admit. Two skilled to every one person unskilled. If they were available that was.

“What essence can you control dear, if any?” She heard Horace shout at a similar candidate and they were thrown from the grounds in a decadent display of violence.

“… Ice… Ice m’lady. I used to work on dispelling the ice from the walls and merchants houses in the winter. Before the cut backs.” He stuttered and met Alsace’s eyes briefly, before drawing them down to the dusty earth.

“Ah! Just the man. On a winter campaign, we’ll need someone of your extraordinary talents.” She sounded ridiculous, but the more excited she sounded, the better - or less bad - Horace would scrutinise her and her lists at the end of the day.

The man smiled as she marked his name down and tore off his slip in duplicate. “Return here in three days and show this slip to the Guard. Don’t lose it.” She smiled as the man thanked her and headed for the exit, nervously eyeing the Guards as he did so. Wait until you see the dead ones, she thought.

Another candidate stepped forward and she repeated the process, though not everyone was as lucky as the ice-man had been. Sometimes, their skills were too unfavourable. At the end of the long day, with the sun dipping beyond the last of the walls, they headed back to the palace.

Horace rounded on her as they were stepping onto the walkway, just past the stables. “I know you’ve been letting in more undesirables than agreed woman.” He cackled as he talked and the little hairs on her neck stood up in response. “I thought I had made it clear, we see how many useful people come forward first, before we start admitting the dregs of the Slums. Otherwise, we would just mandate that every resident of the Slums was to join the Royal Army.” He sneered. “Though admittedly sometimes it can be hard to tell who really is useful.”

Alsace stared at the man with a gaze bordering on contempt. “The Emperor gave me my instructions and I can admit who I see fit within your little categories. So if you please, I’m going to head inside.” She could not imagine being so bold with someone as high in Class as he, until the Emperor had elevated her and largely left her to her own devices.

Horace held his arm out. “You are nothing but the Emperor’s toy here, woman. Once he’s had his fun, you’ll be back in the Slums where you belong. Then let’s see how brave you are.”

With that, he turned and left. Alsace felt fury welling up inside her, threatening to erupt. She saw the sparks dancing across her fingers and she pushed it down. She forced her face back to a gentle smile and headed inside. A woman shouting in public at a man of Horace’s station would not go down well. No matter whether she had the ear of the Emperor for now.

Her room was a massive opulent room in comparison to her previous home in the Slums. It had plush rugs, massive wardrobes and every sort of creature comfort but to Alsace, it lacked personality. She had acquired a few plants and she rearranged the room regularly, but she couldn’t truly relax in it. The only part of the room which gave her comfort was the large fireplace set into the wall. It was surrounded by a black surround with gold threads running through, which met in the middle in the form of a bird.

Her serving girl was waiting for her in her room. “Can I get anything for you?” Alsace had forbade the girl from calling her anything related to m’lady or my lady or whatever other honorific they demanded in the palace. At least not in private. She still was not convinced that the serving girl was reporting directly to somebody like Horace, keeping close tabs on her. But she had been very helpful so far.

“I could murder a hot bath.” She replied as the serving girl scurried into the next room to begin the slow process of drawing a bath. Alsace took off her blouse and trousers and lay on her bed, face down, wondering what the hell she had ended up involved in.