by Maddy Barone
Marty’s eyes crinkled in silent laughter. “You’re a rebel.”
What should she have first, the pancakes or scrambled eggs? She looked up with a shrug. “I don’t think I am. I love my family and I know they love me. But I am a grown up and I get to make decisions about my life. They’ll learn to accept it eventually.”
Ray bent over his plate and murmured, “Lesson number one coming up.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Victoria saw Colby come into the dining room. Marty was gorgeous, but Colby was only slightly less so. He wore his only suit. It was charcoal gray, double-breasted, and the cut emphasized his narrow waist and broad shoulders. His short black hair gleamed. Little Miss Summer was crazy if she didn’t give Colby a chance to court her.
Colby filled a plate and came to their table. “Good morning.”
“Hey, Colby,” said Ray.
Victoria whistled. “Looking good, Cole.”
He raised dark brown eyes to her like a hopeful puppy. “Do you think she’ll like it? The suit, I mean.”
“If you mean Miss Summer, I’m sure she’ll love it.”
He sat a little straighter. “Do you think so?”
“You look great.” She jabbed a fork toward his plate. “So does the food. Be sure not to drip any syrup on your clothes.”
She hid a smile when he declined to use any syrup at all. Over the next few minutes the dining room filled with the men who were staying at the house. All were dressed neatly, obviously preparing to attend the legislative session. Jon and Tanner looked ill at ease in their suits. An older man was with them. Victoria guessed he must be Brother Saul, the leader of their commune. She studied the man for a while, trying to find evidence of his evil, but he looked perfectly normal. Certainly pompous, but not evil. When he, Jon and Tanner stood up to leave the dining room she purposely turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to say good morning to him.
Marty pushed back from the table. “And I think it’s time we left. Miss Victoria, may we escort you?”
Her brother was suddenly there. His voice didn’t have the bite it could have. “We’ll escort Victoria. You can walk along with us if you like.”
“Thanks.” Marty ran a gaze from the feathers in Eagle’s hair to the breastplate made of thin, hollow bones and brass beads over his bare chest to the silver bells dangling from the outside seams of his leather leggings. “No one will overlook you in the assembly today,” he said cryptically. “We can leave anytime.”
The minibus was waiting just outside the back door. Victoria, wrapped in her sheepskin coat, balked at the noise. “I’d rather walk all the way back to the winter camp than ride that thing. Let’s walk.”
Sand and Quill walked together in the lead, and Rock, Colby, Eagle, Victoria, Marty, Ray, and Stone followed. Before they had gone two blocks, the minibus passed them in a cloud of stinking fumes. Victoria waved her hand vigorously in front of her face to dispel the stench.
Even walking, they made good time to the city center and arrived only a few minutes after the bus had delivered the last of its passengers.
Victoria was surprised and a little disappointed when they were ushered into the assembly room on the top floor of the judicial building. She had expected it to be like the clan council, where everyone sat in a circle. This room had rows of wooden chairs all facing the same direction, and at the head of the room was a low stage with a long table and chairs facing the room. On one edge of the stage was a small table and chair. There were names engraved on metal plaques on the table identifying who would sit where, including that of the mayor of Omaha.
A man inside the door greeted them and told them where their assigned seats were. Each wooden chair had a small table attached to it, like the desks she’d seen in schools. Good thing these were adult-sized, or she’d never have fit. Each desk had a folded paper tent with a name on it. A cheaper version of the engraved metal place cards on the stage. The wooden chairs were crammed close together. They weren’t very comfortable either. She should have brought a fur to pad the seat.
She shifted her weight and studied the legislative chamber. The walls were paneled in wood. Wood floor, wood walls, wood ceilings, all the same dull brown color. The only color was from a faded flag tacked to the wall behind the table on the stage, and a gray metal square hung on the wall to the right. Narrow windows ran along the top of one wall. Victoria felt almost claustrophobic.
“It will get stuffy in here with all these people, I bet,” she murmured to Hawk.
Hawk sat still, arms folded over his chest. “Too many people,” he said with a grunt.
By craning her head, she could see Marty twelve rows ahead of her. In the same row sat Brother Saul. How did he get to be so important that he was seated in the front row? Marty represented one of the largest settlements in the region, and he had for five or six years now, so it made sense that he would be in the first row. But why were she, Hawk, and Quill near the back?
Quill leaned over her. “I don’t know which of you is getting more attention, you, because you are a beautiful woman, or Eagle, because he’s in full wolf warrior regalia.”
It was true that a lot of the hundred or so men in the room were staring at her and whispering together. It wasn’t unusual for her to get a lot of attention, but she had a feeling this came from the fact that she was the only woman in the room. These stupid misogynists probably thought a woman shouldn’t be a delegate. She wanted to stand up and say something rude. As the Clan’s delegate, she kept her mouth shut and only privately fantasized about what she’d like to say to them.
The room was filling up fast. Even the standing room along the walls was overcrowded. Rock, Eagle, Sand, and Colby were against the back wall. Rock waved to get Hawk’s attention and said something, but over the rumble of voices and screeching of chairs on the bare wood floor, Victoria couldn’t hear it. Hawk could. He nodded, and the others left.
“They are going somewhere else for a few hours,” he murmured to her. Quill, having wolf-sharp hearing, didn’t need his translation. Probably going to see Miss Summer. How would that go today?
The entry of five men distracted her from that thought. The one in the lead had iron gray curls just touched with brown and an erect bearing. The last one was short, slender, and reminded Victoria of a rabbit. The men walked to the stage, climbed the two steps and filed to their seats, but did not sit right away. They stood silently, waiting for the attention of the representatives and delegates. Victoria thought that the man with the curly gray hair must be Mayor McGrath. She had never met him, but years ago, before he became mayor, he had helped to save Aunt Ellie’s life. Taye’s Pack considered him a friend. Gradually, the noise died down. Mayor McGrath raised his hand.
“Welcome to the twenty-second session of the Omaha Legislature. We have special guests for this session due to a matter which we will discuss at length. I am Ryan McGrath, Mayor of Omaha. On my left is Charles Beauregard, vice-mayor of Omaha. On my right is Judge John Case, chief justice of Omaha, and on his right is Captain Dean Erikson, head of the Omaha City Guard. The gentleman in the front corner of the stage is Joseph Finley. He is the legislative secretary, who will make a record of everything that is said here. Remember that record before you speak, because any citizen of Omaha has the right to review the legislative proceedings. Nobody wants to sound like a fool in a public record.” He smiled a thin smile and chuckled. “Not even me. Let us begin.”
The four men sat down. Mr. Finley laid a sheet of paper in front of the mayor and sat at the smaller desk on the side of the stage. Mayor McGrath raised the paper to read, and after several moments, laid the paper back down.
“There are a number of matters of concern to Omaha, but I think we’ll set those aside until the end of the legislative session and concentrate on the big issue that faces us now.”
The mayor had a strong voice that carried well. Victoria was pleased that she could hear him clearly. She listened attentively.
“We have invited all the
towns and settlements in the area to send a representative to this legislative session. We’re glad to see so many of you here today. In the letter I sent out to your towns, I explained our situation. President Gerald Todd of Kansas-Missouri wants to ally with us. I see three main benefits of an alliance between our two regions.” The mayor raised one finger and looked out over the assembly. “One, trade. Since much of Missouri is on the Mississippi River they have access to goods that we don’t, or that we have to pay high prices for. If we ally with them, there would be no additional tariffs. Goods that we would like to have would not cost as much, so more people could afford them.” He lifted a second finger. “Two, military. If Omaha is attacked, Todd would send military aid.” A third finger joined the other two. “And three, medical. If the Woman-Killer Plague breaks out again, he would provide us medical personnel and medications.”
A voice rose from the middle of the room. “Yeah? About that military thing. Who would attack us?”
A second, more belligerent, voice yelled, “And what about the drawbacks?”
Victoria jerked in a breath. But the mayor didn’t seem annoyed at the interruption.
“There are drawbacks,” he said calmly. “As allies, President Todd could expect the same things from us. If Kansas-Missouri or any of their people were attacked, they would expect us to send military aid. If a plague broke out, they would expect us to send medical help.” McGrath’s voice was steady and strong. “That would be fair. But there are other things I have concerns about.”
The mayor rose from his desk. “I’ve been watching Todd over the past five years. He started out as the mayor of Kansas City. In the first year, he started bringing the smaller towns and cities in that area under his control. That didn’t seem to be a problem. Todd required the other cities to send their people to work to rebuild Kansas City. That didn’t sit right with me, but I thought maybe labor was all those smaller places had to offer in exchange for protection. But it’s gone beyond that.”
Mayor McGrath stepped around the table to come to the edge of the stage and looked out over his audience. “Todd got together an army, and he didn’t use it to protect his people but to conquer people who did nothing to bother him. And then he made those people work for him. I’m not talking about jobs. Those people are slaves. That’s wrong, but did it affect Omaha?”
Victoria fixed her whole attention on the mayor. He was a good speaker, but even if he had been dull as ditchwater she would have listened carefully. She already knew what answer she, as the clan’s delegate, would give. Her father and rest of the clan had talked at length in council as to what position the clan would take in this matter of alliance. The decision was that the clan wanted nothing to do with a war between Omaha and Kansas-Missouri.
“No, it did not affect Omaha.” The mayor folded his arms. “It didn’t affect us then. But it does now. Todd controls all of Missouri, the eastern half of Kansas, parts of Illinois, and a bit of Iowa. He took control of those regions by offering them an alliance. When his alliance was accepted, the city was annexed to his empire. The current governing body remained in place, but reported to Todd and sent taxes to Todd. Heavy taxes. Some of the people were sent to live in Kansas City or other cities under Todd’s control.”
“Hostages,” muttered a low voice behind Victoria.
“When his alliance offer is rejected, as it was by Jefferson City and Springfield, his army simply smashes the city and takes it over by force.” McGrath was grim. “I’ve heard the stories from survivors. A lot of the people were killed, businesses looted, houses burned. Women and children were taken away and re-distributed to Todd’s loyal men.”
On either side of her, Victoria heard the low rumble of wolf warrior rage, but neither Quill nor Hawk spoke. The rules governing courteous behavior in council were too ingrained in them for their anger to be set free.
“So,” the mayor went on. “we need to decide how we will respond to Todd’s offer of alliance. That is why I’ve invited you all here now. I want to know your—”
A man three rows in front of Victoria leaped to his feet with a screech of wood on wood. “We have to fight him!” he shouted.
“No!” Another jumped up. “We’ll be killed if we fight.”
Victoria felt her jaw drop. The mayor hadn’t even finished speaking! More men were jumping to their feet and yelling. She looked at Hawk with disbelief. Didn’t these townsmen have any manners? Hawk shook his head sadly, as if he had read her mind. It seemed like she, Hawk and Quill were the only ones still sitting in their seats. She folded her arms and glared straight ahead. The yelling would stop eventually.
The boom of a gunshot cut through the shouting voices, leaving instant silence in its wake. The mayor stood with a small pistol in his fist. Victoria realized the gray square on the wall was a bullet trap.
“Sit down.”
McGrath barely raised his voice, but he didn’t have to. Victoria knew an alpha when she heard one, and the others must have too. Chairs squealed as the men sat.
“I guess Captain Erickson was right. He said we should’ve gone over some ground rules before we started. But better late than never, right?” The mayor gave his audience a fierce smile. “Dean? Would you mind?”
The lean man with short blond hair stood up and came to the edge of the stage. “The rules aren’t difficult,” he said. “First of all, only one person speaks at a time. There are ninety-eight of us in this room, and if we have everyone talking at the same time no one will be heard. Anyone who speaks out of turn will be asked to leave.”
There was more noise from men shifting in their chairs, and quiet buzz of low murmurs, but no one spoke up.
“Everyone will have a chance to discuss the issues in smaller groups.” He looked around, not quite challenging anyone to speak. One man near the front raised his hand like a kid in school wanting permission to speak. Dean Erickson stared at him for a long moment before nodding.
“With that many of us, how can we have a discussion?”
Erickson nodded. “That’s good question. We’re going to do it this is way: you will be divided into groups of seven or eight. That’s a good number to have a discussion without having to wait an hour for a chance to speak again. Your group will take the rest of this morning to talk, ask questions, discuss your feelings about the proposed alliance. One of you will write down all the questions that the members of your group want to ask. We’ll collect your questions and the city council will read them over tonight. Tomorrow Mayor McGrath will address those questions, and we will go from there. The important thing—” The captain sent a hard glare around the room. “The important thing is that you discuss the issues and questions, without yelling. Do not interrupt someone else while they are speaking. Everyone’s voice will be heard.”
The mayor slapped Erickson on the shoulder. “Good job, Dean. Succinct and to the point.” He chuckled. “Let’s number off. You.” He pointed at the far end of the first row. “You are number one.” His finger veered to the right. “Two.”
The next man said, “Three?”
“Nice,” said the mayor approvingly and moved his finger again.
“Four.”
“Five.”
Marty’s voice said, “Six.”
They numbered off one by one, and Victoria wanted to be a number six, but she was a two. Everyone got up from their seats and milled around to find where their group was meeting. Chairs were dragged over the floor to form circles. Victoria approved. A circle was the best way for a group to hold council. The only person she recognized in her group was Brother Saul. He stared at her with obvious incredulity before frowning and turning to the man beside him.
“A woman?” he said. “What’s a woman doing here?”
Victoria’s teeth ground together. I’m representing the Lakota Wolf Clan. The delegate from the Lakota Wolf Clan should not slap the other delegates. She forced a smile as she sat down. “Good morning. I am Victoria Wolfe.”
The other men introduced t
hemselves. Mr. Finley came to their group and held out several sheets of paper and a pen. “Who will be taking notes for your group?” he asked politely.
Brother Saul pointed to her. “The woman can do it.” He raised an eyebrow at Victoria. “You do know how to write, don’t you?”
Instead of snapping out of any of the rude replies bouncing around inside her head, she nodded. “Yes, I know how to read and write.”
The other men in her group looked at her, some appearing embarrassed and others dismissive. Victoria wasn’t used to that. She was the daughter of the alpha of the Lakota Wolf Clan. No one had ever shown her the slightest sign of disrespect. She uncapped fountain pen and maintained her smile with some effort. She recalled her father’s words. He had said that she would learn more by listening than by speaking, so she kept her mouth shut and prepared to listen to the men’s discussion.
One said, “Look, I’m Hank Fuller from Chadron, way out west. This doesn’t really pertain to us.”
“Yeah, same here,” said another man. “This President Todd guy won’t have any interest in a little place like Mullen. Hell, most people have no idea where it is. I’m Gary Katt, by the way.”
Brother Saul leaned forward in his chair. Victoria took a moment to examine him. He had a bony frame with long arms and long legs, and a long, narrow face topped with thinning light brown hair worn in a ponytail. He would have looked nondescript, but his brown eyes were ferocious. She tilted her head to one side to look at him again. Maybe ferocious wasn’t the right word. Insane? No, that was going a little too far, but there was something mesmerizing about his eyes, something not quite normal.
“That’s all very well for you to say,” Brother Saul said, “but Falls City is only a few miles from President Todd’s territory.” Those brown eyes brightened with fervor. “Whatever decision we make, Falls City will be the first to feel its effects.”
A man on the opposite side of the circle nodded. “I’m Tom Valentine from Nebraska City, and I agree with Mister Allersen. Maybe those of you who don’t live on the river won’t feel the effects the way we will. Not right off, at least. From what I can see, Todd is a maniac. He’s like a grease stain on the ground, shiny and slippery and you can’t see below the surface.”
