“That’s not a good idea,” Stenesso said. “I’ll need my men to run extra patrols in the city. We need to crush these escay scum, and that won’t happen if we hide behind the mansion walls.”
“And if we are attacked again?” Sorani asked. “The Grenier marshals are the city’s policing force. And where were they when we needed them?”
“I’ll arrange to have a force of marshals at the Fortress ready to react to any attacks in the future,” Stenesso said.
Jeniano nodded. “Makes sense. And let’s enforce a curfew until this threat is dealt with. No escay on the streets between sundown and sunup.”
“We’ll cancel all upcoming balls and other ascor gatherings,” Sorani said.
Bowe wanted to get away. “We’d better get back to our homes, make sure none of the other mansions have been attacked.”
Sorrin nodded. “I sent Toose to get more marshals to escort us. He should be back soon. I’ll fetch Zofila.”
Bowe nodded. The other ascor drifted away, those who didn’t stay in Raine Mansion making arrangements to return to their homes.
A thought struck Bowe and he called the Grenier Guardian back. Stenesso turned.
“Sindar,” Bowe said. “Will you free him? We’ll need every ascor we can get.”
“I’ll think about it. See how what you told us helps.” From the way the veins throbbed on Stenesso’s temples, his present calm demeanor was taking considerable effort. “I have the feeling you are still holding out on us.” He started to turn away from Bowe, then stopped. “I shouldn’t have to hold one of your family hostage to get your help against our enemies.”
Chapter 10
17 Days Left
Bowe wilted under the early morning sun. He should have expected it to be so strong, he guessed, since it was only seventeen days until the Infernam, but Bowe hadn’t been out much lately. None of the ascor had.
And it wasn’t just the ascor whose lives had been turned upside down by the fallout from events in Raine Mansion. If Drywell Square was the beating heart of Arcandis, then Arcandis had died. Bowe was on a rooftop terrace looking down at the square, and it was painful to see it like this. The marketplace where he had laughed and joked with Iyra lay abandoned. Broken bits of wood lay strewn about, and scraps of fabric blew in the wind.
No newsbards shouted out the day’s stories, no acrobats performed, no sellers shouted out their offers, no one haggled. The only people in the Square were a group of Grenier marshals who stood beside the scaffold. A storm is coming, Yac had said. He was right, but Bowe doubted he knew how bad it was going to be.
Eolnar came up behind Bowe. “I see you have taken to arming yourself.” He gestured at the short bronze scabbard across Bowe’s right hip.
“Just a knife.” Bowe had felt so useless during the attack, he’d asked Toose for something he could use. He had even practiced with it in his room. His left hand was weak and lacked in coordination so he wasn’t sure the weapon made him any less useless. Still, trapped inside the mansion with not a whole lot to do, Bowe had spent a number of hours a day stabbing the air with his new blade.
“The scabbard shouldn’t be metal,” Eolnar said. “It will get too hot.”
“You don’t have to tell me. Not only that, but the spike at the end of scabbard is too sharp; it has bloodied my thigh a few times. I think my marshal believes I’m more likely to injure myself than anyone else, so he gave me the most awkward weapon he could find.”
“What are we doing here?” Eolnar asked. “It’s dangerous to be outside the mansion, and even if we did have to meet, why here?”
Bowe gestured down to the square. “This is what we are doing to the city; we should at least be able to look at it.”
“They brought it on themselves.”
“Not all the escay. Just the Guild.”
Eolnar shrugged.
All the ascor were conflating Hess’s Guild with the escay. The morning after the attack on Raine Mansion, Stenesso had led a force of marshals to the Eye only to find it deserted. So they had moved on to Drywell Square. Bowe wasn’t sure what they expected to achieve by ransacking the place. Several escay had been killed, more wounded, and vast quantities of goods destroyed. Bowe had no idea whether Iyra had been there, but he hadn’t been able to help imagining Iyra trapped inside her stall while Grenier marshals descended upon her, swords in their hands.
Bowe couldn’t find out if she was safe. It was needlessly dangerous to even try with the Guild and ascor in open war. The Grenier marshals hadn’t stopped with Drywell Square, attacking other markets, taverns, anywhere that escay congregated. Throughout the city, not many left their homes. As well as those directly injured in the attacks being harmed, livelihoods that escay depended on for a place in the Refuge were being wreaked.
Bowe nodded to the scaffold. “As if things weren’t bad enough, that is the latest escalation.”
“It’s not being done by the Lessard family.”
“If you think Stenesso is going too far, we should call a Guardian’s meeting and discuss all this. Figure out a better way”
“Why didn’t you just call Stenesso out here and talk to him? I don’t want to see that.” Eolnar nodded down to where a marshal was wheeling a wheelbarrow up to the scaffold. He tipped it over and dumped a corpse onto the ground. “At least they aren’t stringing them up alive.”
“Possibly hanging would be too kind a death from a Grenier's point of view. If I can’t persuade you that Stenesso has gone too far, then there’s no hope.”
Another wheelbarrow arrived, another corpse dumped. The first corpse’s hands had being tied together and he was pulled up onto the scaffold, dangling from his wrists. A wooden board hung around his neck with some writing on it. “Can you read that?” Bowe asked.
Eolnar shook his head. “Knowing Stenesso, something unimaginative. Maybe ‘Guild scum’?”
“Why is there something hanging from the man’s legs?”
“Looks like a chair.”
“I see that now.” It was Coensaw’s wheelchair. Stenesso had chosen the old man as the first Guild member to be strung up as a warning to others. A curtain twitched in a window across the square. There might be no escay in the streets or in the square, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching. “What is the point in all this, Eolnar?”
“A public warning.”
“So they wouldn’t know otherwise? Every single escay in the city fears to leave their homes.”
“No more than ourselves.” Eolnar glanced down at the alleyway where their rickshaws awaited them. The small street was overflowing with Lessard and Bellanger marshals standing guard. Toose had been furious when Bowe insisted on leaving the mansion, and he had brought half the Bellanger marshals with him.
“That’s part of the problem. We are the leaders of this city and we hide behind the walls while it is being destroyed,” Bowe said.
“We need to wait for this madness to end.”
“What if it doesn’t just end? We have to fix things.”
“Fix things? We have to crush the Guild,” Eolnar said. “Then we can go back to the way things were.”
“The way things were wasn’t exactly so great. If we make things better, then the Guild might just fade away.”
“We can’t make any concessions to the escay right now. They’ll think that killing ascor is a way to improve their lot.”
“No matter what happens from now on, I doubt the escay will ever think that.”
“Good.”
Bowe had wanted to talk to Eolnar about finding a way to improve Arcandis society for everyone. Before the attack, Eolnar had been coming around. It was already clear, though, that the attack had changed his attitude completely and persuading him would be impossible. It was going be a tough enough job to agree that the severity of the ascor response needed to be eased.
The day after the attack, Kesirran had taken Paradise’s Kiss, obviously deciding it was time for young blood to take over. Jeniano was now the
Raine Guardian. Bowe would have been happy about that, except Alandar had become Jeniano’s second—that had likely been part of ensuring a smooth succession. Alandar was a second Stenesso as far as Bowe was concerned, maybe a worse one. So persuading the Raine family would be difficult.
Down in the square, four men now hung from their wrists. Or was the last one a woman? Bowe didn’t want to look too closely.
“Eolnar, look at what Arcandis has become. Yes, the Guild started it, but Stenesso has only made the situation worse.”
“We have to defeat them; that’s the only thing that matters right now.”
“The Guild must be defeated, yes. But there are gentler ways to win. If we are brutal with our enemies, a hundred more will rise for each one we kill. If we find a better way, a softer way, perhaps we’ll find that friends have replaced enemies when this is all over.”
“I heard what that escay murderer said to you,” Eolnar said. “He said you were to be spared. Why was that?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps it is to do with the Battle of Pots and Pans. I understand that some escay were happy about what I did then.” That was the answer Bowe had prepared for the question. He hadn’t come up with a better one.
“Or perhaps Stenesso is right in thinking that you have closer links to the Guild.”
Bowe didn’t want to dwell on the point so he changed tack. “Did you hear that wagons of supplies from the countryside due to go to the Refuge were taken by marshals and those bringing them were arrested and brought to the Fortress?”
“Perhaps we can’t trust the escay to take the supplies to the Refuge.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I don’t know what to believe. I never thought the escay would attack us in our homes.”
“Come on, Eolnar, you should be a voice of reason among the ascor. Whatever has happened, we both have to work together before the Infernam comes. Escay and ascor will share space in the Refuge.”
Eolnar blinked. “Are you suggesting that we might not be safe in the Refuge?”
That wasn’t what Bowe was trying to get at—he hadn’t even considered that the violence might follow them all the way into the Refuge. Traditionally, violence, scheming, feuding was all put aside inside the Refuge. By necessity, everyone cooperated, dealing with the issues caused by the limited food, water, and space.
“The rules of the Refuge will remain the same as always. Of course.” Would they though? Could Hess and Stenesso push things still further. It didn’t bear thinking about. “What I was getting at was that, if this continues, the Refuge won’t be ready. If there isn’t enough food or water, we could be dying inside there in our thousands during the Infernam.”
Eolnar nodded. “So you want a more measured response, and for us to make sure that preparations in the Refuge aren’t harmed.”
“Exactly.”
“You are probably right. Give me a day or two to think about it and talk it over.”
“Thank you. Once I know I have your support, yours and Sorani, I’ll call a meeting of the Guardians.”
“Very well.” Eolnar left the rooftop terrace, Raine marshals falling in behind him as he started down the stairs.
A fifth and final corpse now swung from the scaffold, though they were crowded together on one side of the beam. Plenty of room left for more bodies in the days ahead. Many escay had been arrested and taken to the Fortress in the last few days. How many of them would end up there?
Bowe had to put a stop to the madness.
Chapter 11
15 Days Left
The rickshaw meandered through the dead streets of Arcandis. Inside, the heat stuck Bowe to his seat. Tiredness hung from Bowe like a sickness. If he’d closed his eyes in the days since the Raine Mansion attack, it hadn’t been for long.
Tired of waiting for a response from Eolnar, Bowe had decided to head out into the city. He had told Eolnar they shouldn’t be hiding behind the walls, and he was trying to back up his words with actions. So, over Toose’s strenuous objections, Bowe had taken his rickshaw out for an hour in the late afternoon the day before. There had been nothing to see except empty streets, but that hadn’t stopped him from heading out again. Better than sitting around in the mansion doing nothing. All his sleepless nights hadn’t resulted in any solutions. What was taking Eolnar so long to get in touch?
The rickshaw jerked to a stop, and Bowe stuck his head out the window. Toose had half a dozen Bellanger marshals marching along either side of the rickshaw, their heads bowed under the heat of the sun. “What’s happening?” Bowe asked.
“Grenier marshals escorting escay prisoners up ahead,” Toose said. “A moment’s delay.”
“Let me see.” Bowe stepped out of the rickshaw.
“I wouldn’t advise that, Guardian. Many of the Guild attacks have occurred when marshals were making arrests.”
“I’m not surprised.” The Grenier marshals were taking anyone they could get their hands on. Bowe could hardly blame people from reacting when they saw their loved ones arrested and taken to the Fortress. And the only escay leaving the Fortress were the corpses, which continued to be strung up in Drywell Square. A second scaffold had been erected.
“Guardian, it’s my job to keep you safe.”
“And I thank you for it. But my life is worthless if I can’t help Arcandis in its time of need.”
The Grenier marshals walked in two files with their swords drawn. Their legs dragged heavily through the dirt, but their eyes were watchful, flickering up and down as they keep a watch for movement in the houses on either side. Between the two files of marshals, a bedraggled group of escay shuffled forward, their legs hobbled together and their hands tied in front of them.
Bowe recognized one of men as having been in Leti’s kitchen, and he spotted a woman who’d been there too. Then he saw Leti herself.
“Who’s in charge here?” Bowe demanded. He frantically scanned the prisoners, but didn’t see Iyra among them.
“All stop,” the lead marshal said.
“What’s your name?” Bowe asked.
“What’s it to you?”
Toose, standing beside Bowe, strained forward. “Show some respect to the Guardian.”
“The Bellanger Guardian,” he said with a sneer, as if suggesting that meant something less than a full Guardian. Nevertheless, he offered his name. “Hoag.”
Bowe relaxed slightly when he’d studied the prisoners enough to be sure that Iyra was not among them. Tealman was there, though, with his young daughter in front of him. “What have these people done?”
“They were congregating.”
“I recognize some of these escay. I believe they live together.”
Hoag shrugged. “Perhaps that’s all it is. We have yet to question them.”
“There’s a child among them. Do we now fear three-year-old girls? Are children our enemy?”
“The policy is to bring the children.” Parents would be more cooperative if they knew their children were also under ascor control.
“What do I have to do to convince you to release these people?”
“You’d have to kill me and all my men.” The Grenier marshals were no longer watching the surrounding buildings—all their attention was on Bowe. A prickling ran down Bowe’s spine. The Bellanger marshals hadn’t drawn their weapons, but they had tensed up. The two families were equally matched in numbers, but a battle between marshals of rival families was the last thing the city needed.
“I’m a Guardian. You have no proof against any of these prisoners. Surely this doesn’t have to come to violence.” The marshal had to be bluffing.
“Many suspect you are on the side of the escay already,” Hoag said. “Do you really wish to confirm that by helping these suspected Guild members?”
Bowe’s reputation within the Grenier family was clearly worse then he had feared. Bowe glanced at prisoners again. Leti’s head was bowed, a crust of blood in her hair. Tealman was watching Bowe with hopeful eyes. Bowe k
new he had to break a sworn promise. Another one.
“Marshal Hoag, I’m sure you have captured many families these last days,” Bowe said.
The marshal grunted.
“But have you captured any who actually fought for the Guild?”
“All the whoresons are in the Guild for all we know.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer to return to the Guild with a proven traitor rather than another ordinary escay family?”
The marshal leaned forward eagerly. “Perhaps.”
“I can give you that. Provided you agree to let the rest of them go.”
The marshal hesitated, but Bowe knew he would agree. When he finally nodded, Bowe pointed out Tealman. “That man has worked for the Guild for years.” The words tasted like ash in his mouth. He had sworn on his childhood friend’s life.
“We already had him,” Hoag said, as if he’d been cheated.
“What you had was just another escay father. Now you have a confirmed Guild traitor.”
“I guess.”
Two Grenier marshals grabbed Tealman and pulled him away from the rest. Tealman didn’t have anything to say as he was dragged away, but his gaze as he glared at Bowe was expressive, speaking of the betrayal.
Bowe drew his knife and cut the rope around Leti’s hands. She didn’t react. Her eyes were dulled. How hard had she been hit?
“Cut the rest of them free,” Bowe told Toose. He wanted to get them all away before Hoag thought to change his mind.
Toose cut Tealman’s daughter’s wrists free, but before he could free her legs, she squirmed out of his grasp, running for her father. “Papa!” she called out.
The ropes on her ankles tripped her and she fell into the dirt. Leti shook off her lethargy, racing over to pick up the crying child. Dirt stained tears streaked down the child’s face. “Papa, don’t leave me.”
Tealman shoved one of the marshals, giving himself room to twist around. “Go with Leti. She’ll take care of you now.”
The second marshal jammed the hilt of his sword into Tealman’s stomach and the escay doubled over with a cry. A third and a fourth Grenier marshal grabbed him, dragging him rapidly away.
The Collapsing Path (The Narrowing Path Series Book 3) Page 12
