Rake's Story

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Rake's Story Page 22

by LeRoy Clary


  Rake felt the heat of his anger rise after her attitude, then it burst like a soap bubble poked by a giggling child’s finger. It transformed into the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and his laughter joined that of Cinder, to the dismay and confusion of the other three who had no idea of why they were acting like that in such a serious situation.

  His relationship with Cinder had evolved from distrust and jealousy to one of comradeship and admiration in only a few short days. While still intimidated by her appearance, he’d come to respect her skills in the forest. After that, he’d found himself admiring her interactions with others—especially those who could provide help to them. The trait he most admired was her sense of understanding of how to use her resources to frighten enemies until they did as she wanted. Alone, he would have beaten a few of them—and probably never have gotten the answers he needed.

  With each encounter with the enemies, she had identified whatever weakness and fears they held, then capitalized on them. He remembered the men who had captured Maggie and how she had lied and threatened to get the information they required. Then the men in the alley. He smiled at the memory of her insisting he allow her to cut the head off one and roll it across the marketplace. She’d begged him, and the more she did that, the more the man talked.

  Rake adjusted the robes he wore. They needed to go into the city and search for more information. Instead, they were confined to the inn with a Crab. However, he was the one person who could provide additional information about the city and the changes, as well as conditions in Breslau. If he was a recent arrival, he could provide accurate facts of Breslau instead of wild tales and rumors. Moon might save them days or weeks of searching on their own.

  “Feeling better?” Rake asked as he finished laughing.

  Moon nodded.

  “Like Sadie said, let’s give it a while for your stomach to settle,” Rake said. “There is plenty of food for you here, but Demi will make you a thin soup and you can try a small meal later. Just let us know when and what you want to eat. Now, we’d like a conversation with you. Feel up to that?”

  Moon nodded.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Moon remained near the door. Rake, Cinder, and Sadie pulled chairs to sit nearby but left a clear path outside in case his stomach revolted again. Despite his assurances that he was willing to talk, his paleness and dejected manner suggested otherwise.

  Rake adjusted his robe again, an action almost becoming automatic, and one reminiscent of those desert wanderers they’d all seen. He understood the action now. While he wanted the slit pockets located where he could reach his knife, it also provided scant time to allow his thoughts to form before speaking. “We are looking for general information, nothing specific about you, although we are naturally curious.”

  Demi approached with a small bowl that smelled of mint and perhaps garlic, and probably other herbs, and a rag. She said, “A salve to help heal your sores. Do you mind if I apply it?”

  He nodded once. His eyes remained wary.

  “Off with the shirt,” she said.

  Rake believed he saw shame in the eyes of the Crab. He said, “Moon, you must understand that we are trying to help you. And we need your help in return. It is a fair trade.”

  The Crab winced at the touch of the rag Demi used to apply the salve. She asked, “More bread? And water?”

  He nodded again. Sadie rushed for both. In deference, Rake remained quiet until she returned. Then he said as Moon chewed tiny bites from the edge of the slice, so he didn’t upset his stomach again, “You traveled here from Princeton?”

  “Breslau.”

  Rake understood the confusion. “Princeton was the former name of the kingdom next to Oakhaven. The original Kingdom of Breslau was located across the Endless Sea. Which one was your home?”

  “I didn’t cross the sea.”

  Cinder said, “How did you get here? The short story?”

  “Where to begin?” he muttered to himself.

  Rake intervened with a warning glance at both Cinder and Sadie to be quiet, at least for a while, so he could gain Moon’s confidence. “Start with why. Why did you leave?”

  “Too many Crabs. Then too few.”

  “Meaning?” he prodded gently.

  “Our numbers outgrew the compounds they kept us in, we ate too much food. We gave nothing back, they said.”

  Rake waited.

  Moon said, “Some, a few, were taken and educated to be better slaves. I was one. My brother was, too. He was made a sailor. I never saw him again. A friend learned stonework for building roads and bridges. I was taught to read and write. A few numbers.”

  “A scribe,” Rake supplied the term.

  “No. There were scribes who were citizens, but I was taught to calculate needs and place orders to fill them.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rake said.

  “For the city. And the army. Our compounds. One hundred men require two wagons of flour for every month, one cow, or five sheep for meat, and six shirts that will be torn or cannot be repaired or mended. It might take two months for the sheep to arrive, one for a cow. So, the sheep must be purchased and paid for sixty days earlier if they are to arrive when needed. And all the other needs of a similar nature.”

  Cinder spoke first, “You ordered those things for the city and army? That sounds like an important job.”

  “And also, for the Crab compounds. That’s where my problems started.”

  Rake said, “Why did you say the last so strongly? Was there something special about the Crab compounds?”

  Moon drew in a long breath then spat, “Only if you consider the orders were cut in half over the last year.”

  Rake said, “I don’t understand.”

  “The number of Crabs has always increased each year. There are too many to house and feed, they said. New compounds were built for the people.”

  “I can see that happening,” Rake said. “In fact, having Crabs at all seems expensive if you have other workers willing to do what needs to be done, like the peasants of old Princeton.” Rake settled back in his chair because it sounded like he was arguing or challenging Moon.

  Moon hesitated, ate another bite of bread, and continued, “We were important at one time. Crabs filled in to help on public projects, we were there to assist the army and a hundred other things. Now we sit and rot. My people fight among themselves. Some sneak out at night and rob or buy wine or ale. Or women.”

  Rake waited.

  “But that’s not what happened to me. I worked most days making sure supplies reached their destinations on time. Then I noticed by accident the supplies we ordered for Crabs were decreasing.”

  “What kind of supplies?” Rake asked as he tried to prompt Moon to talk faster.

  “All of them.”

  Cinder said, “If there were the same number of Crabs, or even more, that doesn’t make sense.”

  Moon nodded.

  “Well?” she demanded.

  “I started searching quietly for an answer. Examining populations of Crab compounds. The number of beds in each. I found the Crabs were always being moved about to meet the needs of the jobs they worked on, as usual, but overall, beds were being dismantled and sent to the nearest supply points for storage—at all the compounds. One compound shut down completely.”

  “Crabs were being killed?” Cinder asked.

  “Almost a third fewer of us exist than a year ago,” he said. “Nobody even suspected.”

  Demi finished dabbing the gray salve on each sore and departed, only to return with a small bowl of thin yellow soup. He slurped and contained himself from downing the entire bowl at once, although a dribble went down his chin and dripped to his bare chest.

  Sadie asked softly, “Where did they go? The extra Crabs?”

  “Dead, I guess.”

  “Breslau is systematically killing Crabs? Eliminating an expense that they can’t afford to pay for because of the coming war?” Cinder’s tone was even and shocked. “At
the least, they would be good at the front of an army, protecting the regular troops that would charge after, not that I’m advocating that, but killing them when they can use them seems perverted.”

  His head hung. “You’d think so. But I saw what’s happening. The Crab population was allowed because it always provided a cheap, ready source of manpower. That isn’t needed anymore. There are many prisoners who were already living in Breslau. The peasants you spoke of. They are the new Crabs.”

  Cinder said, “What is wrong with the old ones?”

  He drew a heavy breath. “When you don’t work at all, not from the time you are born, and then you’re assigned to work on a road crew, you have no idea of how to do the job, what to do when you get tired, or how to take orders. Besides, you have been fed as little as possible, so you have no muscles.”

  “Crabs are weak and stupid? Is that what you’re saying?” Cinder asked, trying to force him to defend his people, to display pride.

  Instead, he hung his head in shame.

  Rake looked from person to person before saying, “So, you ran away?”

  He nodded again, as if too exhausted to use words.

  “Can he stay here?” Rake asked Demi. “We’ll pay the cost for food and a room.”

  She gave a weak smile. “It seems I have plenty of empty rooms. Maybe he wants a job?”

  Once Moon was settled in his room, he fell into a deep sleep and Rake went to the dining room where he motioned for Cinder to follow him. At the door, he called, “We’re going out.”

  “What about me?” Sadie asked.

  He’d forgotten her. Cinder seemed to have also. They exchanged a shrug and she said sharply, “Sadie, you can follow us, but remain at least twenty steps behind. Do not look at us and do not join in if there is trouble. Act like we are not together. Your primary function is to be our backup and rush home to warn our families.”

  Sadie clearly didn’t like the directions or being talked to in that manner. The tips of her fingers curled. Her lower lip trembled. Then she said stiffly, “Understood.”

  “We’re only doing a little research,” Cinder said more gently. “Sort of scouting around the city to see what’s interesting or informative. But there are people here who are evil.”

  Rake said, “We’d switch places with you, but remember there is a reward offered for us, so we have to wear disguises. The reward is complete with our descriptions.”

  The younger woman seemed to relent and understand. Rake had already decided to go down by the stalls in the market and talk with the friendly meat vendor. She was the only one besides the vendor who had sold them the robes that could identify them. It seemed odd to share that degree of trust with a woman that had only met a day earlier—but trusted completely.

  Rake walked sedately as he’d noticed desert wanderers do, beside Cinder, their faces concealed by the scarfs, their hair hidden by the soft knitted hats. They kept their heads pointed directly ahead, usually tilted to the ground, while their eyes searched the hidden locations where lurkers watching the inn might be. They found none. The sun was overhead, the day warm, but the robes comfortable.

  The city streets were again emptier than the number and sizes of the buildings indicated. A few dogs watched them and from a perch on a railing a single cat. People moved past as if they were invisible.

  Rake noticed what he’d missed in the city. He whispered, “Few women and no children.”

  “You’re right. Where are they?”

  At the market, the location usually occupied by the meat-on-a-stick seller was vacant. They turned to their right and strolled slowly down the stalls, pausing at one that displayed wood carvings of animals, then another with woven blankets. The next they halted at was the place where they had purchased the robes.

  Jaffe said, “It is good to see you again.”

  “We have a few questions if you have the time.”

  The man spread his arms wide. “I have all day, but there are spies watching us, even now. The seller of meats did not arrive today, the first time she has failed to be there in at least two years. I believe she has no meat to sell, so why bother to come?”

  Rake nodded as he noticed Sadie examining footwear a few stalls away. “Tomas and Hadrian. Do you recognize the names?”

  Jaffe nodded.

  “Are there similar men at the other inns?”

  Jaffe nodded again. “They pay men to beat others. Rumors say they kill enemies and throw their bodies in the river with rocks in their pockets to keep them on the bottom. So many men missing and so many rumors that good people will no longer eat fish caught from the river.”

  “How would we speak to one of them?” Cinder asked. “I mean, one of the men who run things.”

  Jaffe said, “You wish to speak in private, I assume, which really means you wish to capture one and interrogate him. I’m not sure that is possible. They surround themselves with hard men at all times.”

  Rake said, “Are there rumors of who they report to? Tomas and Hadrian?”

  “There are. A westerner named Rancor, an apt name for a man as vindictive and ornery as he. It was fitting to have a name suited to his personality. Rancid would have perhaps fit him better. You want nothing to do with him. He is the definition of evil. Even now, there are at least two spies watching us at this moment, so pretend to examine a few of my robes for sale and quickly leave. I’ll have one of my sons contact you later today at the inn.”

  Rake lifted a robe from a display table, held it to his chest, and shook his head as he handed it back to Jaffe. He turned and with Cinder at his side, they strode slowly away, watching for the two spies and not finding either. He believed Jaffe, so the spies must be well concealed or possibly they were other vendors in the market. That made sense and Jaffe would know who they were. Sadie had moved on to a stall where she examined copper pots as she kept an eye on them.

  Rake turned onto the street that held two of the other inns, both known to him. A woman caught his eye, a comely young one who seemed out of place for several reasons. Her eyes flicked from place to place, her stance wary, and her clothing that of a person from the country. Rake noted that instead of wearing a dress or skirt, the pants she wore were dirty from the knees down as if they had gotten wet walking across a stream and then dust from the road clung to them.

  There was more, as he examined her closer while guarding his ribs against another blow from Cinder’s elbow. She was certainly out of place in the city but moved with the grace and power that comes from working on farms. She was not lost but she was searching the city for something. Her age was perhaps fifteen or sixteen.

  Without forethought, he pulled to a stop, ignoring Cinder’s tug on his sleeve as he paused to speak. He said, “Excuse me. Are you new to Mercippio?”

  “I’m not buying anything,” she said sternly, as she shifted positions and readied herself to walk away.

  Rake took a tentative step in her direction as he said softly, “There is an inn called the Rocking Chair where some travelers such as yourself are staying, those who talk of far off places and listen for interesting rumors. I’ve heard them speak of tales about dragons and many places, from Bear Mountain to the Endless Sea and beyond. Only last night I heard one story about a young girl named Camilla and a friendly washerwoman.”

  He quickly turned away, but not before seeing the flash of confusion and interest and satisfaction on the girl’s face. He had no doubt she was Dragon Clan and would show up at the inn. Despite the scarf over Cinder’s mouth, the squint of her eyes told of the smile she wore.

  She whispered as they walked away, “I thought you were just making eyes at another woman. You must have noticed something about her to reveal who she is, which only comes with extremely close observation.”

  “Jealous?” he asked. “And I do notice details of women. It’s a gift.”

  “Perhaps I’ll introduce you to the next one we see and watch what happens. She might help you take your eyes off my behind when I’m not looki
ng.”

  Expecting a similar barb, he said casually, “That would be nice.”

  Rake managed to move away before she could slug him again. They walked the length of the street without seeing other inns, so asked a man sitting on a porch and half-dozing in the sun. He directed them to two, neither with a number of animals in the names as he anticipated. They walked past the Castle Inn, and then the Dagger Inn, both large buildings. The Dagger was almost impoverished in appearance. The lone guest they saw outside didn’t appear to own two coins to rub together in his purse.

  At the top of the hill where the buildings thinned and the forest took over, they turned and walked back down the same street, passing Sadie along the way. She ignored them. The Dagger was the closest inn to them. They entered the only door. Inside the small dining room were three people. One was a heavyset man with a severe limp who wiped the tops of the tables. A younger version of him was sleeping with his head cradled in his arms at a table, an empty ale mug near his hand. And in the corner sat a tall man manipulating a set of dice as he tossed them on the table time after time. He retrieved them and rolled again with the same movements each time, examining the results critically.

  Rake had no doubt the dice were weighted, or the corners rounded so they landed on certain combinations more often than others, especially if spilled from the hand correctly. However, while the others associated with the inn appeared down on their luck, the man with the dice in the corner stood out for the opposite reason. His clothing was flamboyant, topped by a hat with a large pheasant tail feather curved from the front to the back.

  He didn’t appear to have bodyguards like the other two who managed local thugs to do their work, but that didn’t mean they were not close by. His cold eyes watched Rake and Cinder, as his hands moved the dice as if caressing them. Rake moved to the man with the severe limp who still wiped the tabletops with a rag so dirty he probably left them in worse shape than when he began cleaning them.

  “Sir,” Rake said softly and speaking as a desert wanderer might, “Do you have reasonable accommodations one such as I might afford?”

 

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