by C. J. Archer
Lord Xavier appealed to his father, but Lord Deerhorn didn't say a word. He sat like a statue on his horse, looking very much like he wished he didn't have to bother with this meeting. It was Lady Deerhorn who nodded at her son.
"Silence!" Lord Xavier roared.
He moved his horse to the front of the crowd, but the jittery animal grew more agitated by the movement and noise. It twisted and turned then reared up. Hooves stabbed at the air, very close to the face of a woman. She screamed and put her arms up to defend herself. That only made the horse rear again.
"Are you trying to frighten your lord's horse?" Lady Deerhorn cried.
The woman was too terrified to answer. She cowered from the hooves, trying to push back into the crowd.
Dane rode up and grabbed the reins of Lord Xavier's horse as it reared again. Unable to hold on, Lord Xavier jumped off, stumbling before regaining his footing. Removing its rider seemed to calm the horse a little, and Dane was able to lead it away from the crowd.
Lord Xavier slapped the woman across the face. "Are you trying to kill me?"
The woman sobbed until a friend put an arm around her and steered her away. A hush fell over the crowd. Even Ned and Ivor looked shocked by what they'd seen. Aside from the woman Lord Xavier had raped a few years ago, the villagers never had much interaction with the Deerhorns. They only came into Mull to pass through it to the forests on the other side where the hunting was good. They owned many properties in the village but were absentee landlords, employing others to collect rents. Their presence at the village meeting was unusual but, considering the extraordinary circumstances, not a complete surprise. Slapping an innocent bystander was quite shocking.
The governor cleared his throat. "Back to the matter at hand: The Row."
"It's not just The Row," Ned called out. "Mull is crawling with the Vytill leeches."
"We ain't leeches!" someone on the Vytill side of the crowd shouted. "We want to work!"
"Aye!" his friends chimed in.
"There ain't any jobs!" Ivor shouted back.
"There could be if you did things properly. But you're hopeless. This place is so backward. It's like The Thumb was fifty years ago."
"Then move back there if you like it so much."
Such a stupid statement didn't even warrant a response from the Vytillians.
The governor raised his hands and called for silence again.
But Ned wasn't going to give it to him. "You gave our jobs to Vytill scum!" He stabbed a finger at the governor. "Mull's lawmen should come from Mull!"
"That wasn't my doing," the governor said. "Sheriff Neerim asked if he could put on more men and I agreed. I didn't know he was going to give half of those jobs to the Vytill."
Sheriff Neerim's jaw hardened. Some of his new Vytill men glanced uneasily at one another.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Sheriff," Ned called out.
"Aye," agreed most of the Mull side of the crowd.
I bit my tongue to stop myself telling them that it made sense if they wanted to maintain peace among the Vytill immigrants. They would respect one of their own more than a Mullian.
I caught sight of Meg trying to urge her brother to speak up but he ignored her. She wouldn't dare ask her father. He was a good man and didn't join in with the shouts, but I could see he agreed with Ned.
"Let's not sway from the purpose of this meeting," the governor said over the top of the mutterings. "The reason I've called you all here is because we need to inform you of the council's plans for the area known as The Row. You all heard about last night's problem. Such a problem won't easily resolve itself. The two factions in The Row are now at loggerheads, and as soon as Sheriff Neerim and Captain Hammer withdraw their men, the filthy lanes will explode with violence. I cannot allow this! I cannot allow our good village to become the battle ground for these gangs." He paused and took stock. He had the audience's full attention. "After listening to the advice of our good Lord Deerhorn and his family, I have decided to rid ourselves of the scourge of that lice-infested place once and for all. We cannot have such lawlessness in our village. We don't want to live in fear of violence leaking into the rest of Mull. So we have decided to dismantle The Row and scrub its stain from our streets! We will pull down its grubby walls and shed light into its dark, godless heart! We will reclaim our village for the good people of Mull!"
It was a rousing speech and had most of the crowd nodding along, growing excited as the governor's voice rose higher and louder.
Behind him, Dane handed back the reins of Lord Xavier's horse. He frowned, while Lord Xavier's eyes gleamed. Dane must have had the same thought as me, and I could see from Sheriff Neerim's confused look that he too had questions.
"Removing the old buildings and cleaning out The Row will create new laboring jobs," the governor continued.
This created more murmurs. "How many?" asked a Vytill man.
"Not enough for all, alas, but for the strong among you, there will be work."
"And who will fund the clearance?" asked Peggy from the Buy and Swap Shop.
"It better not be us," someone said. "We can't afford another tax now. It’s costly just to live in Mull."
"The Deerhorns have graciously offered a loan to the council to be repaid over five years."
"Under what terms?"
"The particulars are not your concern. Rest assured," the governor shouted over the murmuring voices, "the terms are fair to both parties."
"What will you build in place of the homes there now?" asked Selwyn Grigg.
"New houses, of course. Good, solid accommodation for families."
His words triggered a burst of relief from the crowd. Everyone talked at once, nodding and smiling. Someone shouted words of gratitude to the Deerhorns, while another praised the governor for his handling of the dangerous situation and his vision for the future of Mull.
Only Dane and the sheriff continued to frown, and I understood why.
"What will happen to those living in The Row now?" I asked Meg.
She shrugged.
"They can rent one of the new houses," Lyle said.
"With what money? Most of them have none and I doubt they'll benefit from the new jobs created to clear their own tenements. Particularly the women."
"I didn't think of that," Meg said. "Those poor women—and their children. Where will they go?" She took my hand, clearly thinking of Remy.
I hadn't told her that Remy and Dora were already safely tucked away in my house. But there were many other children in The Row who would not have anywhere to go when the governor destroyed their homes.
"They at least have a roof over their heads in The Row now and a community that looks out for them, in a way," I said.
"Tell them," said a slick voice in my ear. It made my nerves jump and my skin crawl.
"Go away, Ivor," I said.
"Tell them, Josie. Tell them they haven't thought about the poor orphans and widows. Tell the Deerhorns they're making a mistake." He shoved my arm. "Go on."
"Shut up," I snapped.
"Listen!" he shouted. "Everyone, listen! Josie Cully's got something to say."
I wanted to kill him.
The crowd turned to me, expectant.
"You all know Josie," Ivor bellowed. "All you respectable Mull folk do, anyway. For those that don't, this is Josie Cully, daughter of the last doctor. She's the midwife in the village, and she's got something to say. She doesn't think the governor's idea is very good."
The Vytill half of the crowd muttered their disbelief, but at least the long-term Mullians appeared to be listening.
"That's not what I said," I told them. "Ivor is stirring up trouble, as usual."
Ivor grunted while several people chuckled. Meg squeezed my hand. At the front, Dane had moved closer to the crowd, as had Lord Xavier. His mother sat on her horse behind him, her cold glare locked on me.
I drew in a measured breath. "I've attended expectant mothers and newborns in The Row," I said. "
It's true that the conditions are terrible there, but if you clear away the homes they have, and replace them with new ones, will they be able to live in them?"
"They'll be able to rent them," Lord Xavier said. "My family doesn't discriminate."
"So the new houses will be as cheap as what they pay now?"
He snorted. "Of course not. They pay nothing. Good houses can be rented at the going rate."
"They can't afford the going rate. Those women are desperate, my lord. They may be living in squalor, but at least they have a roof over their heads. You can't take that away from them."
"Who cares?" Lord Deerhorn piped up for the first time. "They're all whores."
"That's not true, my lord," I said. "And those who are have turned to that life because they have no other way to feed their family."
"They can find employment, just like everyone else," Lord Xavier said. "Respectable employment. Then they can afford one of the new houses."
"Employment where? The only women who have respectable employment in Mull are those who work for their families and your servants." I could have added that no woman liked going into service for the Deerhorns but did not.
Lord Xavier lifted a nonchalant shoulder. "That is not our concern. We cannot help everyone, Mistress Cully."
My blood heated and flashed before my eyes. I knew I must remain calm but he was making it difficult. "Are your family helping anyone, my lord? Residents living in your tenements are facing rising rents. Every month, it goes up. The women from The Row will never be able to afford to live in a room in one of your new houses, let alone rent all of it."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd and heads nodded.
"That's not our fault," Lord Xavier said, his voice rising. "That's what happens when there is limited stock of a commodity. Prices go up. I don't expect an uneducated village girl to understand basic economics, but perhaps you can ask your husband, father or brother to explain it to you. Oh, wait. You're all alone, aren't you?"
Meg's grip tightened on my hand. "Don't answer him."
Several voices in the audience hissed their disapproval of Lord Xavier's crassness. Some even booed, albeit softly.
I caught Dane watching me. He no longer sat with ease on his horse, but looked as if he'd charge into the crowd at any moment. I gave him a small smile of reassurance, but it didn't dampen the intensity of his glare.
"We don't need to listen to people like this," spat Lord Deerhorn. He steered his horse away and rode off. Lord Greville followed him.
Lord Xavier smiled that slippery smile of his, until his mother moved up alongside him. "You have strong opinions, Mistress Cully," she said. "Do you have a solution to the housing problem?"
I looked at the mostly familiar faces surrounding me. They waited for me to speak for them, even Ned and Ivor. It was a strange sensation to be the center of attention and I wanted to shrink into myself and back away. I'd come this far, however, and felt compelled to go on and offer a solution.
"You could allocate some of the space that will be gained from clearing The Row for housing the poor. Perhaps a community house for women and orphans, and men with no hope of good employment."
Lord Xavier threw his head back and laughed, a brittle, cruel sound that shattered the air.
"We're not a charity," Lady Deerhorn said, her voice hard. "The temples do a serviceable job of that already, and of course we help unfortunates when we can."
Someone in the crowd barked a disbelieving laugh.
Lord Xavier rose out of the saddle and tried to see where it came from, but sat again without accusing anyone.
"You make it sound like the new houses will be owned by your family, my lady," I said. "Will they not remain in council hands? Are you not simply providing a loan to fund the clearance?"
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, starting low but increasing as neither the governor nor the Deerhorns denied it.
"It's council owned land!" someone cried. "You can't sell it off."
The governor put up his hands for silence. "It's the only way! We can't afford to do it otherwise."
"Then don't do it!"
"It must be done. The Row's lawlessness is out of control. The filth is spreading. If we don't stem it now, who knows where it will end." That silenced some of the protestors, but not all. "The Deerhorn family have made a very reasonable offer!" the governor shouted over them.
"We all know how the Deerhorns treat their tenants in these times," someone near me spat.
Lady Deerhorn's nostrils flared. "Mistress Cully, are you suggesting that my family are raising rents to benefit ourselves? Because that's monstrous." It didn't seem to matter that I hadn't spoken. She only had eyes for me; it was as if the rest of the crowd didn't exist. "Rents rise because the cost of upkeep and daily living rises," she went on. "Yes, our cost of living rises, just like yours. We have an entire estate to run, with many servants. Do you know what that entails? Of course not. As my son so succinctly put it, you're just an uneducated girl. Do not judge something you don't understand. Clearing out that stinking hole called The Row will get rid of the gangs, the violence, the filthy vermin who prey on innocent villagers. Isn't that what you all want?"
Several people nodded in agreement, some of them the same who'd agreed with me moments ago. One brave soul said, "But we don't want to set them loose in Mull, either."
Lady Deerhorn's lips pinched. She wheeled her horse around and barked at her son to follow her. They rode off.
My breathing was ragged and shallow as frustration and anger boiled inside me. Several people spoke to me, thanking me for voicing concerns. Some even told me how much their rents had risen since The Rift. It was far more than I'd realized. All were tenants of Lord Deerhorn.
I thanked Hailia that I didn't have to worry about rent when I now owned my own home. My father may have lost our savings, but he'd had the foresight and sense to buy that house when he married my mother.
The crowd dispersed, but not before Ivor accosted me. "When are you going to learn to keep that mouth of yours shut, Josie?" He walked off, chuckling.
"Ignore him," Meg said, looping her arm through mine.
I left with her, but not before seeing Doctor Ashmole and his wife, standing quite still as the crowd moved off. They watched me, twin stern expressions on their faces. Mistress Ashmole said something to her husband. He nodded and smirked before they also left.
Meg and her family remained to speak to friends, but I spotted Dane with his guards. "I'll be back in a moment," I told Meg.
I crossed the green, but Dane hadn't seen me. He rode off into one of the neighboring streets. I picked up my skirts and raced after him.
When I turned the corner, he wasn't there. Lord Xavier, however, was. He maneuvered his horse toward me and I backed up until I hit the stone wall of the building behind me.
"Look who's all alone," he sneered. "It's my favorite midwife masquerading as a doctor." He bared his teeth in a hard smile. "You've been naughty, Josie. Very naughty."
Chapter 5
"We're not alone," I said. "There are still a lot of people about."
"No one will interrupt us," Lord Xavier said. "They wouldn't dare." His tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip. "What I've got to say won't take long. I simply wanted to warn you that Doctor Clegg told my mother something interesting the other day. Can you guess what it was?"
Merdu.
"He said you declared Morgrave dead." He leaned forward. "You can't do that, Josie. You're not qualified."
I swallowed.
"It's all right. Your secret is safe with us. We won't tell anyone—unless you cause problems."
"Why would I do that?" I asked, sounding bolder than I felt.
"Why indeed? Particularly now that my sister will be queen." His hand whipped out and grasped my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. "Good girl."
His thumb stroked my cheek then pressed into the bone. I winced but did not try to pull away. I met his gaze.
"Xavier!" snapped Lady Deerhorn, riding up to us. "What are you doing talking to that girl?"
Lord Xavier released me. "Just having a little chat about our mutual friend, Doctor Clegg."
Lady Deerhorn's gaze narrowed. "It's time to go."
Lord Xavier pulled on the reins, wheeling his horse around. I skipped backward, but the horse bumped me, sending me careening into the wall of a nearby building.
I watched them leave, my heart in my throat, my whole body trembling. I hated that they scared me, hated that I had no power over them. I didn't like feeling so vulnerable.
I stayed there to gather my frayed nerves so I could face Meg without worrying her. But before I was ready, Dane rode toward me from the opposite end of the street. He quickened his horse's pace when he saw me.
"Josie?" he asked, dismounting. "You look shaken. Are you all right?"
I nodded and attempted a smile, but it must have failed. He frowned back.
"It's the meeting, isn't it?" he asked, gentler. "I saw what Morgrain did. You handled the situation admirably. I've had a word with him, and he regrets throwing you into the viper's nest like that."
"Regrets?" I echoed. "What did you say to him?"
"I told him it's one of my jobs to see that the king's favorites are treated with respect, and anyone who fails to do so will spend time in a palace cell until they understand the error of their ways. I went on to tell him the conditions in those cells."
"I'm not one of the king's favorites."
"Morgrain doesn't know that. Besides, the king does like you." He glanced past me toward the village green where his men maintained a presence to ensure peace as the crowd dispersed. "Meg's coming for you. I have to go." He touched my elbow. "Are you sure you're all right?"
I nodded.
"Go straight home and stay inside tonight. With word spreading about the governor's plans for The Row, it could get dangerous. The residents won't like it."
He went to mount his horse, but I grasped his hand. "Be careful, Dane. Please."
A wisp of a smile touched his lips before vanishing. "I've got the best men with me. We'll be fine."
