The Sisters Mederos

by Patrice Sarath

  That did it. Tesara threw in the towel and went home.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The police have received a report of another attack by the fellow dubbed the “Gentleman Bandit” by his victims. This time the brazen fellow held up revelers as they came out of a private party at the Maiden of Dawn public house. “He didn’t say a word but brandished his very large pistols and we could do nothing but submit,” one young merchant daughter said tearfully. She asked not to be named as her mother did not know she had gone out – a most pertinent lesson for a naughty young lady!

  The constables say the bandit then entered the Fleurenze mansion across the street, where a most astonishing rout was taking place of several hundred disordered guests playing at fancy dress. Constables say they lost the brute in the press where, as just another fellow in a masque, he could easily go unnoticed. We think the constables may be out-numbered on this one.

  The Gazette

  The morning wasn’t so bad, Yvienne thought, as she oversaw the girls’ lessons with hardly a yawn, but the afternoon would be another story. She would pay for her adventures of the night. She would have to summon all of her stamina to overcome the effects of only two hours of sleep after robbing several old friends of all their money.

  It had been ridiculously easy. One shot to frighten them, the other pistol aimed at the nose of one youth, who lost all of his bluster and raised his hands feebly. The riotous Fleurenze party covered the screams. Yvienne worked fast, taking purses and wallets from the stunned partygoers. There was only one heart-stopping moment, when a lad gathered all of his courage and reached out to grab her shoulder.

  Yvienne swung on him, pistol cocked, and aimed right above his nose. He almost crossed his eyes and backpedaled hastily, hands up. She finished up with a heavy sack of loot, and pelted off through the gate and down the alley.

  Pursuit followed, but she easily lost herself in the hubbub of the Fleurenze crowd. On instinct, she dove into the giant Fleurenze house, aiming to cut through the mansion.

  Coming across Tesara was entirely a shock. She was sure her sister had recognized her, but she made no comment when she dragged herself into bed later that night – or morning. By then Yvienne feigned sleep, her loot tied underneath the bed. And what were you doing in the private part of the house, dear sister?

  She yawned again, demurely hiding her bad manners behind one slender hand. It was just as well that she had made plans to take the girls out that afternoon. Playing the Gentleman Bandit was pure excitement, but she had an investigation to carry out.

  The TreMondi coach pulled up, and the coachmen let out the girls and Yvienne. They looked up in awe at the sight. The Guild headquarters took up an entire city block, rather like the Fleurenze monstrosity, and was far more gaudy. Its dome gleamed under the sun, and there were uniformed guards outside the entrance. Carved over the columns were the words, Well-regulated commerce is the lifeblood of our city.

  We’ll see about that, Yvienne thought. Her tiredness had fled. This was another kind of hunt after all.

  “Are you sure we’re allowed to go inside, Miss Mederos?” Idina asked, ever the timid one.

  “Of course,” Yvienne said, not entirely sure of that at all. But she didn’t think that the Guild would turn away the offspring of Alve TreMondi, one of the most powerful men in town. “Follow me.” She led the way up the stairs, her charges following her like ducklings.

  There was a desk in the lobby, manned by two male clerks. One, with pale hair and spectacles, raised an eyebrow at Yvienne and the girls.

  “May I help you?” he said. Yvienne waved the girls back and ventured forward. She put on a bright smile, reaching her hand out to shake his. He took her hand, a bit dazed, and she pressed it familiarly.

  “My students are studying merchant economics. I told them all they needed to know was in the Hall of Records. We’d love to continue our studies, if you please.”

  There was a pause. The clerk looked over her shoulder at the sisters, both looking a little forlorn and uncertain. And suddenly Yvienne saw them through his eyes – merchant misses, yes, but some trick of the dim light accentuated their Chahoki features. She turned back to the clerk, just in time to see a twist of disgust cross his lips. In an instant, flirtation was the furthest thing from her mind.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he said, and looked down at his ledger, fiddling with his quill. “Good day.”

  There was silence in the lobby. Yvienne knew the girls couldn’t have heard him, but also knew that they were fully aware something was up. She swelled with rage, all the more violent for being contained. She leaned over the desk at the clerk. He looked up and started at the transformation of the flirtatious governess into someone more dangerous.

  “Why not?” she said, her voice low and vibrating with emotion.

  “I said, good day.” The clerk flicked his eyes up and down, as if he was afraid to catch her eye.

  “Do you know who these girls are?” she said. Do you know who I am? He kept looking down, as if afraid to look at her. She didn’t wait for an answer. “These are the daughters of Alve TreMondi. He has expressly told me to teach his daughters merchant economics. I cannot imagine how ill it will go for you if you prevent their education in this matter.”

  “Is there a problem?” A senior clerk hurried over from a back office. “Can I help you, young la–” He stopped. She could see at once that he recognized her.

  “She wants to take them into the Hall of Records,” the junior clerk said. He jerked his head at the sisters. The senior clerk had a curious expression. He was older; and unlike many of the young men who worked in the city, his eyes had crow’s feet, as if he had gazed upon distant shores and witnessed sights most young city men unheard of. After a moment he made a decision. He turned to the junior clerk.

  “Thank you, Lach. I’ll take care of this.” The junior clerk stepped back and the senior clerk picked up the quill. “The Hall of Records is honored to host the daughters of House TreMondi. Names?”

  Her heart slowed and her rage settled. “Maje and Idina TreMondi,” Yvienne said. He scrawled the names – his hands were rough, a sailor’s hands – and then capped the inkwell. What an un-clerklike clerk, she thought. “Thank you for your help, sir.”

  “Follow me,” he said. She gestured to the girls and they hurried up to her as if frightened of being left behind.

  The Hall of Records was a massive expanse, filled with ledgers and record books carefully shelved and organized, bronze nameplates at the end of each row. There were cabinets of card catalogs down the center of the hall. The smell of whale oil, books, beeswax, and paper was permeated everything. Overhead, the great dome soared. It was grand, hushed, with only a handful of researchers, all as quiet as church mice.

  The clerk looked at her. “What do you need?”

  Right. Yvienne mentally shook herself. “We need records for the Five Houses, including my own, going back ten years. Oh. And a map of the city.”

  He wasn’t rattled by any of it.

  It didn’t take long for the materials to be brought to their table. Yvienne took a deep breath. They gathered round. “All right, girls. Here’s what we’re doing.”

  The Five Houses, the premier trading houses in Port Saint Frey, together accounted for nearly all of the wealth and stock in the Guild. These were Iderci, Sansieri, TreMondi, Havartá, Lupiere. Once, House Mederos had been one of the Five Houses. Iderci had taken its place. So, Yvienne thought, that’s one of the Houses that had benefited from the Mederos downfall. The Idercis had done quite well in the past six years.

  The girls’ task was simple. Make notes of the growth in wealth of the Five Houses, from seven years ago to six years ago, and so on to the present day. Follow the money, Treacher had advised her. While the girls took notes, she pored over the map of the city. Whatever Treacher’s key unlocked, it was on Five Roses Street. She had to find it.

  She almost forgot how tired she was.

  Cha
pter Forty-Two

  “Scandalous,” muttered Brevart over the breakfast table, after reading the story of the Maiden of Dawn robbery.

  “And they look down their noses at us,” Alinesse agreed. “At least we know how to raise our girls. Oh, do sit up, Tesara.”

  Obediently Tesara straightened up, fighting back a yawn. She was counting the minutes until she could go back upstairs to her bedroom under the fiction of dressing for her day, and lock her door and catch some more sleep. It was a foggy morning, matching her head.

  She had straggled home a few hours earlier just as the Port Saint Frey Cathedral clock was striking four. Mindful of Yvienne, who had had a long day yesterday and had to be up in two hours, Tesara undressed and went to bed in her shift. Yvienne never moved as she got into bed.

  Tesara was so tired her thoughts jumped around like a drop of water on a hot griddle. Where had Jone been? What was he about, to leave her alone among strangers? Then she remembered her attack on the boy who had frightened her. Of all of us, I’m not the one who needs protection, she thought. And what about Mirandine? What was she thinking, sparking with Ermunde? Then she wondered what it would be like to spark with Jone.

  “Oh, for goodness sakes, Tesara!” Alinesse snapped, and Tesara jumped, having the presence of mind to keep her fingers flat so she didn’t give her mother a taste of what she had given the boy last night. “Didn’t you hear a single thing I said?”

  Tesara sighed. “No, Mama. I’m sorry, Mama.”

  Her mother’s scolding washed over her, and Tesara listened with half an ear, thinking again and again about sparking with Jone Saint Frey.

  As soon as she could, Tesara escaped the breakfast table and went upstairs. She stopped abruptly at her open door. Mathilde was inside, with a broom and dust mop, about to sweep under the bed.

  “Oh goodness, Mathilde,” she said. “Yvienne and I can clean our own room.” The last thing she wanted was Mathilde to find the little purse tucked underneath the bed. It was bad enough she found and cleaned the dress the last time… Blast and damn. Tesara had the most uncomfortable sinking feeling. No doubt the diligent maid had already found the purse.

  “Nonsense,” Mathilde said. “This is my duty and I aim to fulfill it.” She smiled, and it had a touch of condescension about it. “I know you received a great deal of schooling in housewifery but you can leave it to me.”

  The dangerous build up in her fingers alerted Tesara to her anger, almost before she registered it.

  “I believe I said that wasn’t necessary.” Her voice came out low and steady. Tesara held her chin high. To her grim delight, Mathilde looked taken aback. I am not my parents, she thought, who are grateful beyond measure and thus easily flattered and led. Mathilde had crossed a line.

  Mathilde recovered. She bobbed a curtsey. “Of course, miss. I’m sorry, miss.” With great dignity she walked out with her broom and dust mop, and Tesara shut the door behind her, and locked it for good measure. She did a quick reconnaissance.

  The little purse was where she had left it, as was the newly soiled silk dress. She doubted Mathilde would take it upon herself to clean it for Tesara again. Good, she thought. She didn’t need a maid; she needed privacy. Mathilde had become entirely too familiar. And the fact that she was at the masque was a coincidence bordering on the fantastic. Yes, all sorts were at the Fleurenze’s last night. Half the city, it seemed like. But the Mederos housemaid too? Tesara was tempted to call her back and ask her about it, but she didn’t want Mathilde to know that she had been there too.

  Maybe it was her anger and tiredness, but her fingers continued their irksome buzzing. The strange energy coursed through them, and if anything, it strengthened, pulsing now. Tesara felt a twinge of alarm. She flexed her hands, and a gust of wind rocketed out of her fingertips, physically pushing her backwards onto her heels. She almost fell onto the bed. The gust rattled the rickety wardrobe door. She held her breath, waiting for her mother or father to exclaim, but if they heard they made no comment. She held up her hands. They looked as ordinary as ever, one normal hand, one crippled, but the unseen energy increased.

  Tesara panicked. She had to get out of there.

  She threw on a shawl, grabbed for her gloves, and bolted from the house. She got a glimpse of her parents’ astonished expressions as she went past the parlor, heard her mother call out, “Tesara? Where–” and then the house was behind her, the gate swinging in her wake, and even knowing it was impossible, she tried to outrun her uncomfortable power.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  It was perhaps not the most devout idea, to take comfort from religion when one was on the verge of destroying everything in one’s path, but the dimness inside the Cathedral was comforting. The incense, the soft murmur of the acolytes, the comforting sense of sanctuary all had the effect of stilling most of the charge in her fingers. Now they barely tingled. She clasped her hands in her lap, twining her fingers as best she could.

  “I’ve been gambling but that’s not the problem, Holy One. And I stole my mother’s dress, too, and I’ve been sneaking out of the house without her permission. And I did steal a servant’s dress, but that I did return. And there’s a boy I like and I’m having thoughts of the flesh about him. But those aren’t the problems either. It’s just that when I was little, I sank a merchant fleet with almost all hands from my bedroom window, and I don’t know how to atone for it.”

  She had tried to confess six years ago, in this very church. It had caused nothing but trouble.

  After the announcement of the loss of the Mederos fleet with all hands but one, the bells tolled ceaselessly from the belfries of the three churches of Port Saint Frey. The Cathedral of Saint Frey, which crowned the Old Crescent that directly overlooked the harbor, had a booming bell that sounded like thunder rolling in from over the waves. The Church of the Sea, down by the harbor, and the much smaller Chapel of the Quiet Saints, rang their bells too, so that the air of Port Saint Frey was thick with discordance.

  The service went on forever. Tesara grew weary of standing and sitting and saying the responses. She couldn’t focus. Every time she scolded herself to listen, that God wanted her to mind the service, her attention skittered away like a mouse. When the service was over, she knew what she had to do.

  “Mama, may I light a candle?”

  Alinesse rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of Saint–” she controlled herself. “Yes. But this had better be about solace for the widows and not just about playing with matches.”

  Before her mother could change her mind, Tesara darted back into the coolness of the church, dodging the still-streaming outbound parishioners.

  The dimness soothed her eyes. She waited her turn at the table of light, and then took up a lit candle and lit another. The scent of smoke and beeswax filled the air and comforted her.

  Tesara closed her eyes and said a prayer for the sailors, commending their souls to the Sea Above. Her eyes popped open. She was almost alone. She glanced out the big double doors open to the harbor, and saw her parents were talking with some of their friends. She had time. Hurrying, Tesara went ahead to the small booths for private intercessions.

  There would be no priest to listen to her but she didn’t mind. She closed the slatted door behind her and sat in the dark space on the bench, gathering courage. Now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say. God already knew her sin so it felt strange to confess. What she really wanted, and what she knew even God couldn’t do, was to make a bargain.

  The silence in the little booth lengthened. The outside noises of the crowd faded. It doesn’t count unless I say it out loud.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper, and then gathered her courage and spoke in a normal voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. But if I promise – if I promise to never do it again, would you bring them back? Please?”

  When a low male voice came from the other side of the wall, she started. “Is that all you have to tell me?” the voice said.

&n
bsp; What?

  “Do you have payment?” another voice said, a woman’s voice.

  “I thought this wasn’t about the money,” the first voice sneered.

  Father Jacque? He sounded different in the booth. And the woman’s voice was tantalizingly familiar.

  “One must be pragmatic, sir,” the woman said. “I am a woman alone in the world and must have temporal concerns.”

  “You were paid well enough to loosen your tongue,” the man said. “Don’t be greedy, Miss – Unknown.” His tone made it clear that she was not unknown to him.

  “I told you my concerns about the youngest Mederos girl. That should be enough for your needs. If you want more, then you have to pay for more.”

  Tesara gasped and sat up in the narrow cubby, banging the grilled door behind her. Miss Alieri? Her old governess?

  “What was that?” the woman said.

  “Damnation! We’re not alone.” The man raised his voice, anger sharpening it. “Who’s there?”

  Tesara leaped to her feet and bolted from the cubby, running hard for the church doors and the sunlight and steps she could see beyond them. She squeezed through the ornately banded doors just as the altar boys were pulling it closed.

  Her parents waited on the steps among a small cluster of their friends.

  “There you are! What on earth took you so long, child?” Alinesse said, with exasperation.

  Tesara barely heard her, looking at her father talking with Father Jacque. She turned around to look at the church doors. They were pulled open once again for another straggler. He was the tall lean man from the Guild, the one her parents didn’t like. He looked disgruntled, and he scanned the crowd, looking for someone. Tesara shrank back but he pinned her with his eye nonetheless. She couldn’t look away, trapped by his gaze.

  He gave her the merest smirk, and then tapped his finger against the corner of his eye. I’ll be watching you.