by Taylor Hobbs
Hearing Fawkes’ name from Henry’s lips left Charlotte momentarily stunned. Her brother had pieced it all together in the cellar, just like Robin. She remained rooted in the doorway while Henry stomped toward their room, leaving her alone with panicked thoughts.
Now that Fawkes’ name was out in the open, she suspected it was only a matter of time before Robin used his intelligence network to discover Fawkes’ true identity and history. And it was all her fault. Weeks of wishing for Fawkes’ return were suddenly replaced with fear at actually seeing him in the flesh. He would never forgive her for giving away the last true part of himself for others to manipulate.
“Don’t come back,” she whispered. “It isn’t safe anymore.” Fawkes’ memory had given her strength the past few weeks while she handled the rebels, her brother, and trying to start a new life. His lessons taught her the life skills she needed to transform herself. To imagine the look on her mentor’s face when he realized she had ultimately betrayed him…it was too much to bear. Maybe it was as much for her as it was for Fawkes that she wished him to stay away.
Robin yearned for power and control. Charlotte knew he would use any means necessary to make Fawkes do what he wanted. Robin had practically begged Fawkes to assassinate people for the cause. What would happen to Fawkes if he could no longer refuse?
****
Charlotte woke up alone in the house the next morning. Henry appeared to be long gone, and she guessed he was already back at the cellar. She refused to think about what the rebels must have put Duke Belaq through during the night. He had harmed many of their loved ones, and she understood their rage. But torturing someone for days…that she could not be a part of, especially if she had to watch Henry do it. The teeny part of her that might have felt that Belaq was getting what he deserved was squashed by nausea.
Her head ached and her throat felt parched beyond belief. Sleep had been a long time coming the night before, as she relived her trauma every time she closed her eyes. The feeling of Belaq’s knife on her neck and his hot breath closing in on her would not easily be forgotten. Even in the warm dawn light, the nightmares clung to her.
Desperate for distraction, she flung open the front door and took a cleansing inhale. That was when she saw them. Soldiers, dressed in plainclothes, but soldiers all the same. Their body movements revealed a history of strict discipline as their search progressed up the hill toward her. They carried no swords and wore no armor, but Charlotte was not naïve enough to assume they were unarmed. She counted six of them as they darted in and out of the buildings, stopping to question civilians out on the streets.
They had come for Belaq, just as he said they would.
Chapter Eleven
Robin’s ragtag rebel army was no match against the Duke Belaq’s soldiers. The rebels thrived in the dark, collecting information, usurping the kingdom from within. A full-on confrontation against trained soldiers would be a bloodbath.
Weighing her options, Charlotte decided to hold off on sprinting to the pub. There might be hundreds of soldiers combing the streets.
She shut the door and started to pace, forcing herself to think rationally before careening out the door to warn her brother. I might stand a chance if it was dark out. But confronting men twice her size, with no backup, in broad daylight, would be suicide. She was also a known rebel associate. Her usually-friendly neighbors would not think twice to point her out when threatened with bodily harm from Belaq’s men.
I’m a sitting duck in this house all alone. Charlotte decided that moving was better than hiding inside and waiting for them to find her. She pulled out one of Henry’s threadbare tunics and threw it over her clothes. Next, she scraped at the dirt floor to gather a handful of soil, which she smeared on her face and arms. A scrap of bedding served as a kerchief to hide her hair, and she kicked off her shoes to complete the disguise of a poor beggar child. Her appearance wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny, but she just needed to avoid immediate detection as she navigated the streets.
Once outside, she forced her heart to maintain a steady pace. With eyes cast downward as she hugged the alleys and storefronts, she had almost made it to the pub before she was stopped. “Oi, girl!” one of the soldiers yelled to her.
So close. “Algonian or Croantian?” he asked her. She simply shook her head, eyes wide with confusion. He stepped forward, any evidence of false friendliness gone. “I asked you a question.”
Again, Charlotte shook her head, but motioned to her mouth with her hands. She started an elaborate series of hand gestures until he finally sighed. “A dumb mute. Fine. You’ll have no information for me.” As an afterthought, the soldier reached a hand out and shoved her backward into the mud. Charlotte fell without protest.
Glaring at his retreating back, Charlotte watched as a bystander who had watched the exchange approached the soldier. Uh oh, she thought. Need to leave. Right now. Using all of the swiftness and grace that Fawkes had taught her, Charlotte was out of sight and down the alley before she could be questioned further.
Through her fear, Charlotte reveled in the adrenaline high. She hadn’t felt a thrill like that since her time with Fawkes. Risking her life and sneaking right under the enemy’s nose was terrifying, but she had also forgotten how much of a rush it gave her. Feeling so alive yet in control brought Charlotte closer to her true self.
The outside entrance to the cellar was finally within sight. Thankfully, she spotted none of Belaq’s men in the immediate vicinity. The two rebels assigned to guard the door sat on wooden crates, looking bored and clueless. Charlotte sprinted up to them. “We need to get inside. Now.”
They smirked at each other before one turned to answer. “If you’re looking for your baby brother, he’s been in there a while, making Robin proud.”
It took all of her self-control not to address that statement. Instead, she plowed on to the urgent matter at hand. “Belaq’s men are combing the city. They will be here soon. We have to get everyone out.”
Both pairs of eyes narrowed. “If you’re lying just so you can get in here…”
“Do you want to take responsibility for the death of your ‘brothers’? Because if they find all of you together, conveniently crammed in one place, then no one down there is making it out alive. Except for the duke. His men are out for blood. They will tear this city apart until they find him.”
That statement straightened the guards right up, and they opened the cellar doors for her. Morning light streamed into the dark room lit only by torches, and squinting faces turned to peer up at her. She walked a few steps down before turning to address the rebel guards still up top. “Hurry. Follow me, and shut the doors behind you.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Robin’s voice cut through the confused chatter.
For a moment, Charlotte had the wicked thought of just getting Henry out and leaving the rest to their fates. Horrified that she would condemn all these men to death, even in passing thought, Charlotte decided to get right to the point. “Belaq’s men are in the city. We have moments to get out and hide.”
Robin’s eyes widened for a split second, then he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “They will never find us down here. This is our territory. No one will betray us.”
Infuriated by his cavalier attitude, Charlotte saw that he failed to grasp the gravity of the situation. “It only takes one person to flip, Robin,” she said. No one else spoke around them, but the tension that formed amongst the men was palpable, permeating the room and building on itself the longer Charlotte and Robin squared off. “Duke Belaq’s men are fiercely loyal. You haven’t killed him yet, have you? He is our only chance of getting away alive.”
Charlotte pushed her way past Robin, to the man still chained up against the wall. She held her breath as she approached the sagging body, sick to see that not an inch of skin remained unmarred. Bruises, swollen flesh, and crooked appendages transformed the sadistic nobleman into someone who hardly looked human. The surface wounds were only the b
eginning. Torture was always worse when it was inflicted on parts unable to be seen by the human eye.
He would have done worse to Henry if you hadn’t gotten him out of prison. And Belaq would have done the same to you. The realization gave her cold comfort as she forced herself to watch the prisoner draw a shaky, shallow inhale.
“Leave him here for his men to find,” she instructed the rebels. “We need to get out through the side tunnel and away from the city.”
Robin rounded on her. “You dare give my men orders?”
Charlotte met his anger, and they stood almost nose to nose—she looking up, and Robin towering over her. “Are you not listening? Everyone will die if they find us here with Belaq.”
“I am in charge. What makes you think I will take the advice of a woman,” he spat the word at her, “much less a liar?”
Henry’s voice spoke up. “My sister wouldn’t lie about this. If she says the duke’s men will find us, then we need to trust her.” Charlotte felt a rush of affection for her brother, assuaging any doubts that she had done the right thing by coming here again.
Ignoring the siblings, Robin turned his back to them and addressed his men. “Everyone make for the tunnel. I will kill Belaq and leave his men a message for daring to come into our city.” A muted cheer went up, and Charlotte jumped in front of Belaq as Robin drew his blade.
“You can’t kill him,” she said. “If he is alive, his men will rescue him and buy us time to get away. If they find him dead, they will lay waste to the city and everyone in it.” She could hardly believe she was defending the life of the duke, but it was the only way her plan would work. Escape was the number one priority, and justice for her family would have to come later. “Please, Robin. Think. It will be weeks before he is healed. His men will wait for his orders to act. This will allow you the opportunity to reorganize elsewhere. If you act rashly now, everything will be thrown into chaos.” Then Charlotte pulled out her last card to play. “Algonia will remain under King Otan’s rule.”
That seemed to snap Robin out of his determination to slit his enemy’s throat. The reminder of his ultimate goal was enough to overcome his desire to shed any more of the duke’s blood. Charlotte shuddered to think what would happen the next time she faced the duke after this, but that was a nightmare for another day. Belaq would make sure they paid for his capture and torture, she had no doubt.
Robin sheathed his blade, and Charlotte almost thought she heard a sigh of relief come from the unconscious man behind her. “Single file through the tunnel, now,” he barked the order at his men. He did not ask Charlotte how she knew about the tunnel, but she suspected another interrogation was coming once they were all safe again.
One by one the men dropped to their knees and crawled through their escape route. Charlotte got in line behind Henry, refusing to let him out of her sight as they all fumbled and cursed their way through the darkness. Robin was last to emerge in the basement of the building next door. He pushed the crates back to block the entrance and said, “We’ll head north, to the farms. Our brotherhood faction there will welcome us. Now, everyone up to the surface and split up into groups of four. Take the side streets. You all know where to exit through the wall. Don’t draw attention to yourselves, and move quickly. If what Charlotte says is true, Belaq’s men will be momentarily occupied when they find the duke. This is our only chance to make a clean getaway. Does everyone understand?”
If Henry and I are going to split from the rebels, now is our chance, Charlotte realized. As tempting as that was, however, they still needed to escape the city in one piece, and she had no idea where to breach the encompassing wall. So when Robin himself insisted that he would accompany them, she raised no objections. He was keeping a close eye on her, just as she was on him.
Robin knew his territory like the back of his hand. He led them safely through the city, and Charlotte’s surroundings flashed in a blur as she raced through the maze of streets. At that moment, they were all on the same side—the side of survival. Everything else, including Fawkes, could wait. She was actually grateful for the rebel leader’s presence and skill.
When they reached the exit point, Henry balked at diving into the sewage-filled river that led underneath the wall and out to freedom. Robin held the key to the grate that covered the exit, which consisted of iron bars the size of Charlotte’s fist that stretched all the way down to the bottom of the riverbed. The redhead dove in first, opened the passageway, and swam through. Charlotte then shoved Henry into the swirling stench before jumping in after him. It’s no worse than the first time I swam through sewage, she told herself as her head went under. While stretching her hands out in front of her to navigate the water by touch, the fact that she had come full circle did not escape her notice. At least there is no drain to climb up this time.
The siblings pulled themselves onto the bank, gasping and gagging, and collapsed as they waited for the other rebels to join them. One by one, dark heads bobbed up out of the sludge and joined the pitiful group on the shore. By midday, everyone was accounted for, save four members.
“Where are Liam, Pierre, John, and Paul?” Robin asked. No one knew for sure where they had gone, but everyone could guess what might have happened. The rebels all looked somberly at the river, as if willing their missing comrades to magically appear. “We will have to trust that they didn’t reveal anything. If I know them, they will have gone down swinging their fists, or impaled themselves on a soldier’s sword before being captured,” Robin said.
Charlotte noticed the worry in his voice, almost as if he spoke aloud to reassure himself that everything would be fine. “They sacrificed themselves for our mission,” Robin’s pitch raised higher. “We cannot let their sacrifice be in vain. Come, we have to move onward. Our brothers are waiting for us.”
Weary, stinking, and disheartened, the group looked less like rebels and more like defeated children. As the Croantian town shrank behind them in the distance, Charlotte felt like she could breathe easier. It felt good to be back in nature, away from the claustrophobic city. If Belaq also lurked there, presumably still alive, then every mile she put between them was a blessing.
However, the enormity of their situation began to blossom as Charlotte’s hunger pains grew more insistent. Every rock she stepped on sent shooting pains through her feet, and she regretted her decision to forgo shoes that morning. With no money or food to speak of, she had actually become a poor beggar girl, and her outfit was a costume no more.
She envied the other men who walked ahead of her, all of whom wore sturdy boots and had a weapon or two tucked away in their britches. Charlotte felt as good as naked. The black ribbon still held her hair back proudly though.
To keep her mind from her discomfort, Charlotte’s thoughts turned to Fawkes. Had he been successful in breaking Stefan out from under the king’s nose? Why hadn’t word been sent to the rebels yet of his success? Shouldn’t they have heard something by now?
Her heart clenched at the thought of Fawkes returning to the rebel headquarters within the walled city and finding it empty. The rebels still owed Fawkes the other half of his gold, so she had no doubt that if the contract was completed, Fawkes would track Robin down for the rest of his payment. If he saw that Belaq’s men had occupied the city and chased out the rebels, then he might be able to guess where Robin would take them to recuperate. Would Fawkes be worried about her? Would he come for her, or just the money?
The small hope that she would see Fawkes again propelled her, mile after mile, with bloody feet and a grumbling belly.
****
Robin led them deeper north into the countryside, and finally to a sparsely wooded area to seek shelter for the night. Charlotte, who expected Belaq’s men to come charging up at any moment, couldn’t relax even though she was utterly exhausted and beyond hungry. She and Henry hadn’t said a word to each other since the cellar, and even Robin avoided asking her further questions. The fact that they had come so close to certain death was w
eighing on everyone. It was easier to keep the silence than to examine it all too closely.
Careful not to touch him, Charlotte found a spot close to her brother and laid down on the pine needles. A symphony of snores told her that most everyone was fast asleep, trying to recover after their harrowing day. Robin and a few of the others had volunteered to be first watch, but Charlotte still remained on high alert. It wasn’t as though she didn’t trust them to raise an alarm at the first sign of trouble, but she feared that they would recognize it too late. Her skin prickled, senses alive and telling her that something was coming, something that she could detect but the others could not. This was where she had trained—out in the open. Robin and his followers had let the city dull their senses. Their animal instincts had lain dormant for far too long.
Charlotte couldn’t take it anymore and stood up. “Robin,” she urged. “Someone is coming. Maybe more than one.”
He all but rolled his eyes at her, not dignifying her remark with a response. Her spine straightened as she stared through the trees, waiting for a flash of movement to prove to Robin that she was right. Her ears picked up on the sudden quiet that permeated the camp, as all the nocturnal insects silenced their activities.
Clear moonlight streamed down, creating shadows that tricked her mind as she searched for danger. Robin finally caught on that there really was something there and motioned for the other scouts to follow him. They crept not-so-stealthily through the brush, and Charlotte winced every time she heard a stick crack. She decided to remain in the middle of their pathetic camp, ready to wake Henry and bolt at a moment’s sign of trouble.