by C. J. Archer
Then, one morning, their numbers tripled. That, in itself, was an interesting development but not alarming. What worried me was the armor worn by both horses and men.
"Is everything all right?" I asked Erik, as he surveyed the marketplace from horseback. Most of the guards had passed by, but Erik and Max had stopped. They looked a little stiff in their armor, complete with helmet, breastplate, arm and leg protection.
"There was trouble last night," Erik said.
"I didn't hear of any trouble."
"In The Row."
"Is that where the other guards are going?"
He nodded but didn't take his gaze off the vicinity. It wasn't like the usually jovial Erik. He was rarely this serious.
"What kind of trouble?" I asked.
"A death."
"Merdu. Who died?"
"A man from The Row. He keeps women."
"A whore master," Max clarified. "An important man in The Row, apparently. He was stabbed in the throat."
"By whom?" I asked.
Both guards shrugged. "An unhappy customer?" Max suggested.
"There were fights, too," Erik said. "It is dangerous, but no one will tell the sheriff what happened."
Of course they wouldn't. The victim's people would dispense their own justice. They might have to wait for the guards to leave, however. With such a strong presence, only a fool would seek revenge now.
"Has the sheriff ventured into The Row?" asked Meg. I hadn't noticed her come up behind me. She was with the Bramm sisters, who looked horrified by our macabre discussion.
Max and Erik both sat higher in the saddle. Max smiled at Meg and Erik smiled at the two Bramm sisters. They perked up and smiled coyly back.
"He has," Max said, "with the captain and twelve of our finest at his back."
"How long will they remain?" I asked.
"Don't know. It's up to the captain."
The more brazen of the two Bramm sisters patted the armor covering the neck of Erik's horse. "Did you go into The Row?" she asked.
"Aye," he said. "Last night."
"That's very brave of you."
Erik shrugged and his armor rattled and clanked.
"Did you use your sword?" she asked.
"Aye."
"It's a big sword." She eyed the weapon strapped to his hip. Or thereabouts.
"Would you like to see it?" he asked.
The second Bramm sister grabbed the hand of the first. "Perhaps later." She steered her sister away from the guards.
They were swallowed up by a group of women who descended on them like wolves, attempting to get answers from them, I suspected. Now that I looked properly, there were lots of small groups gathered together at the edge of the market, talking intently. They looked worried. News of the trouble in The Row had spread, and it was still early.
"I like this armor," Erik said, tapping the sheet of metal covering his thigh. "The maids like it too, and that girl."
"She also likes pantomimes and dogs dressed in skirts," I said.
Max chuckled and Erik laughed too. "I do not know what is a pantomime, but dogs in skirts sounds amusing. Is it a local custom to do this to a dog?"
Max clapped Erik on the shoulder. "Josie means that girl likes silly, simple things."
Erik's grin widened and he peered toward the market where the Bramm sisters had disappeared.
Meg and I left the guards to their patrolling and entered the market too. I didn't need to buy anything, but I wanted to gauge the feeling of the villagers. The entire market seemed to buzz with the news of the whoremaster's murder. Some worried that the violence would spill out into the rest of Mull as the man's family sought retribution.
While Sheriff Neerim and his men were considered brave, no one thought them capable of keeping the peace alone. It was only thanks to the palace guards that the violence had been contained. The king was praised for generously loaning them to the village, although some of the wiser souls realized the king had only loaned them because he worried for his own safety with Mull being so close to the palace.
"The problem is, what happens when the guards leave?" I asked Meg quietly.
She stared at me. "Why would they leave?"
"I meant leave The Row to return to the palace," I reassured her.
Meg fell silent, but I could sense her thinking through what I'd said. I didn't know why I'd said it. It slipped out. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was true. The guards would not only leave Mull one day, but they'd leave the palace, as would the rest of the servants. When they got their memories back, they would go in search of their lost lives, to rejoin loved ones and pick up the pieces left behind.
It remained to be seen how long they had to wait for that to happen. If it ever did.
I left Meg and headed towards The Row. She wouldn't like me going near it, so I thought it best not to confide in her. I had to find out if Remy, Dora, Marnie and her family were all right. Fortunately, Quentin was on guard at the slum's entrance, not Brant or one of his ilk.
To look at Quentin's face, it was as if nothing were amiss. He smiled upon seeing me and greeted me with his usual exuberance. The armor, however, told the real story.
"You look hot in there," I said, tapping the metal plate covering his leg.
"I'm sitting in a pool of my own sweat." He squinted up at the sun. "But it ain't as hot as yesterday, thank Hailia."
"Thank Merdu," I told him. "The god controls the weather."
The other guard on duty at the entrance to The Row drew up alongside Quentin. I recognized him but didn't know his name. "You shouldn't be here, Josie," he said apologetically. "Captain's orders."
"He's ordered everyone to stay away from the area?"
"Aye. He specifically mentioned you."
Dane knew me rather too well. "I wasn't expecting to go through, but I was hoping for some news of friends and patients who live in there."
"Captain thought you might," Quentin said with a twinkle in his dark eyes. "He told us to tell you they're not harmed."
"Oh. Well, that's very good of him to anticipate one of my questions. "
The second guard's eyebrows rose, disappearing into his helmet. "One of?"
"Have the tensions eased?" I asked, looking past them into the narrow street, where derelict buildings propped up their crumbling neighbors.
This part of The Row looked as it always had to me. Women sat in doorways while their children played in the gutter, and burly men loitered nearby, watchful. Deeper into the web of alleys not visible from the entrance, there would be families like Marnie's and Dora's, sheltering inside the buildings, all crammed together in a single room with their meager belongings. It was safer inside than out, but the rotting hovels were not homes.
"Too early to say," Quentin said.
Just as he spoke, Dane emerged from the shadowy depths on horseback. With his black horse, black clothing and somber expression, he resembled the mythical horseman who collected the souls of the dead. Children scurried out of his way and the adults watched, some warily, others with hostility.
"What are you doing here?" he asked me.
"Nice to see you too, Captain."
He merely glared back, waiting for my answer.
"I came to see if you've had word from Dora or Marnie. Quentin assures me they're fine."
"They are," he said. "Marnie and her family have been re-accommodated outside The Row. Dora and Remy are safe. I've told them to remain indoors."
"What's it like in there?" I asked.
"Tense, but the situation is stable, for now."
"What happened? Why was the man stabbed?"
He paused before saying, "It's an unseemly business."
I cocked my head to the side. "I know the man was a whore master and an important figure in The Row. What I don't know is, why was he killed?"
Dane turned a flinty glare onto Quentin and the other guard.
"We didn't tell her!" Quentin cried.
"I heard it els
ewhere. Talk of whores and their masters doesn't bother me, Captain. Does it bother you?"
That glare turned icy.
Behind him, two riders emerged from the shadows, one in armor like all the other guards—except for Dane—and the other dressed in the uniform of the sheriff's office. I recognized Marnie's husband sitting tall on the horse. It would seem his apprenticeship had been shortened. Several of the women hissed as they passed, and some of the men rested their hands on their hips where weapons were most likely hidden by their loose shirts.
"They don't want you here," I said.
"That welcome is for the sheriff's man, not us," Dane said. "That's why Marnie and the children have moved out of The Row. Now that her husband is a lawman, it wasn't safe for them here."
It was sickening to think that some would target Marnie or the children because of her husband's employment—employment that he desperately needed to feed his family. But I was glad they were out of The Row. It was no place for them. If only Dora and Remy could leave too.
"Tell Dora to pack her things," I said on a rush of breath. "She and Remy can come and live with me. They have to get out of there."
He eyed me carefully. "Do you have the space?"
"My father's room is empty. They can share it. What I have is ten times what they do. Tell them or I won't be able to sleep at night."
"I will, but first I want to walk you home."
I glanced behind him again, trying to gauge the situation. How safe were they really?
Dane dismounted and touched my hand. The leather of his riding glove was warm, supple. "They're fine, Josie," he said gently. "Let me take you home so you can prepare the room for them."
I closed my fingers around his, but he quickly withdrew. He led his horse forward. With a sigh, I matched his steps and we walked away from The Row.
"Why aren't you wearing armor like the others?" I asked.
"They don't respect armor in there."
"So they respect foolishness?"
"Are you calling me a fool for not wearing armor?" His mouth lifted on one side, and I was glad to see he hadn't completely lost his sense of humor.
"I wouldn't dare," I said, smiling back. "But your men are all wearing armor."
"I can't put their lives at risk."
We walked a few paces, so close that my shoulder almost bumped his arm. I expected him to move away and put space between us, but he did not. It should have given me hope that something still lay between us, but it didn't. I knew there was something between us. It was not being able to do anything about it that bothered me.
"So why was that man murdered?" I asked again. If flirting wasn't allowed, then I needed to talk about recent events to take my mind off his very tempting presence.
"He was a long-time resident of The Row, one of their so-called businessmen."
"So he was Glancian and a whoremaster."
He nodded. "None of his family or associates will say who they think did it, but the victims of the subsequent retaliation are members of a Vytill immigrant family. They set up in The Row recently and want to take over the women under the murdered man's jurisdiction. Marnie's husband, Jon, isn't surprised."
"Why?"
"One of the Vytill men tried to recruit him when they first arrived in The Row."
"Has the fighting stopped?"
"For now, but as soon as we leave, either the Glancians will attack out of revenge for the murder, or the Vytillians will take advantage of their leaderless rivals and make a play for the business."
"The sheriff can't keep the peace alone," I said. "Not even with his new recruits."
"Thankfully it's quiet at the palace. I can afford to keep a large presence in the village."
"Does the king understand the importance of having guards here?"
He hesitated before saying, "Balthazar and Theodore are explaining it to him. Hopefully he'll have no need to call us back."
"And you?" I asked as we reached my street. "Will you have to return to the palace or will you stay in Mull until things calm down in The Row?"
"I suspect I'll spend half my time here and half there."
"Then stop by for tea and cake when you have the opportunity."
His gaze fixed on my house ahead. "There won't be time for tea and cake."
"Of course there will be. You can't be on duty all day and night."
He stiffened. "I won't call on you. You have work to do and—"
"Nonsense," I scoffed. "There's hardly anything for me to do now. There are only two expectant mothers, and I haven't sold many medicines or salves these last few days. It seems rashes and warts have cleared up throughout the village, no children have fallen over and grazed themselves, and no one requires cough tonic. Hailia is smiling down on Mull."
"Are you in difficulty? Do you need money?"
"I'm fine," I lied.
"Your father left you with some savings?"
"He was a good father. Will you come in now for tea?"
His features settled into their hard planes and he looked away. "I can't."
Seeing him like this was frustrating after everything we'd been through together, and the secrets he'd shared with me. I missed the ease with which we used to talk. Silences used to be comfortable, now they were excruciating. I'd had enough. "Ever since that kiss you've been distant, cool," I said. "It's silly."
"I don't want to talk about it."
I rounded on him. "See? That's what I mean. You're pushing me away with both hands. You don't have to. We can still be friends."
"It's for the best this way," he said without looking at me.
"Why? Do you think I'm in danger of succumbing to your good looks and charm? I can assure you, your virtue is quite safe."
Another tilt of his lips proved his mood wasn't entirely sullen. "Thank you for the reassurance. I promise I'll stop by for tea, but not today. I'd best get back."
I watched him ride off, wondering whether he'd keep that promise, and whether either of us could continue as mere friends.
When word spread that the governor had called a meeting of villagers for late in the afternoon, I'd decided to attend with Meg and her family. No one expected there to be trouble, however, not with the guards still patrolling, but being in the company of others would give Dane less reason to scowl at me.
I spotted him on horseback in the village square at the front of the assembling crowd. Another twenty guards were spread out at the edges of the lawn, while the sheriff's men mingled on foot. The sheriff himself stood beside a stack of packing crates, talking to the governor. His gaze swept the vicinity as the governor spoke to him in earnest.
"What are they doing here?" Lyle muttered.
I followed his gaze to where four riders approached. Lady Deerhorn sat on her white horse with her nose in the air and her purple cape settled regally behind her. Lord Deerhorn rode a little behind his wife, and inspected the crowd with a look of complete authority, as if we were his biddable servants. He'd get a rude shock if he tried to order anyone about. Their two eldest sons, Lords Xavier and Greville, sported similar expressions of disdain. But while Greville didn't meet anyone's gaze, Xavier searched the faces in the crowd.
Until he found me.
His top lip twitched into a sneering smile. I swallowed down my rising fear and moved closer to Lyle and Mr. Diver.
I wasn't the only one to notice Xavier's interest. Lady Deerhorn's glare was so piercing that her son must have felt its prick. He joined her and seemed to make a point of not looking at me.
Dane had seen too. He shifted in the saddle and his horse wheeled around, restless. He calmed it with a hand to its neck, and a few soothing words, but didn't take his gaze off me.
I wished he'd speak soothingly to me. My nerves felt raw, my heartbeat erratic. I didn't like this. Calling a meeting at such a tense time seemed like a foolish thing to do. Most of the long-time Mullians had come to hear the governor speak, but there were many newcomers too and all of them men. The two groups stood
on opposite sides of the green, eyeing one another across the narrow gap. They flung curses too, each blaming the other for their problems. The loudest was Ned Perkin and his group of troublemakers, Ivor Morgrain among them.
The voices became louder until finally one of the newcomers shouted at Ned. "We just want jobs!"
"You can't have our jobs!" Ned said. Then he spat at him.
The other man pushed Ned with both hands, and Ned pushed back. Ivor shoved a second man in the chest.
Dane carved a path through the crowd while Max and two other guards did the same from different directions. Dane reached down and grabbed the back of Ned's jerkin.
"At the front where I can see you," Dane ordered. "You too, Morgrain."
"Front row seats, eh?" Ned said. "Ain't I the lucky one?" Several of his friends snickered.
Ivor followed, drawing very close to me. "Nice to see you, Josie. Mind you don't get yourself into any trouble tonight. You ain't got no menfolk to take care of you anymore."
"Shut up, Morgrain," Lyle snarled. "I'll take care of her."
Ivor snorted a laugh then stumbled forward when Max pushed him in the back.
"Settle down, settle down," the governor called. He stood on the stack of crates so that those at the back could see him. "This meeting has been called to inform you all of what happened last night and what will happen next."
"We know what happened," Ned called out. "The Vytill scum murdered a Mull man."
Several men shouted him down so that the governor once again had to call for calm. The voices slowly died away, but the governor looked uneasy. Even though the hottest part of the day was over, his face and bald head shone with sweat, and his beard glistened.
"What happened in The Row isn't just the fault of the Vytill people," the governor went on.
A chorus of protests drowned out the governor's next words. He tried in vain to speak over them, but it was hopeless.
