by Ally Shields
Undaunted by the speculative stares, Rhyden studied the busy warehouse while he waited. When he spotted the owner’s son walking toward him, he returned Merik’s frown with a smile. “Nice operation.”
“Thank you.”
“I like the setup with loads and unloads at the same end but far enough apart they don’t interfere with one another. Very efficient.”
“It’s possible to do with our small inventory,” Merik said. “But I doubt if you came to discuss our efficiency or to buy silks. Why are you here?”
Rhyden kept his smile. “A little privacy, if you please.”
Merik’s frown deepened, but he pointed across the hall. “I’m sure the guild master will loan us his office.”
Before they reached the office door, they were intercepted by Merik’s acknowledged father, Alen Trevain, the dark-haired Elite owner of the guild house. “May I help you?”
“I have this.” Merik’s voice warmed for the first time. “Nothing to worry about, just a personal matter.”
His father lifted his brow, but he must have read something in Merik’s expression that reassured him. “Then I’ll leave you to it. If you change your mind, I’ll be checking the new arrivals.”
Rhyden noted Alen Trevain’s genuine concern and affection. Unusual. Honorable.
Merik waved Rhyden into their headquarters. The guild master rose from his desk immediately, and as soon as Merik explained, he pulled the door closed on his way out.
The duchaen leader turned with an air of quiet confidence. “This must be of some importance for you to come here. I assume it concerns the rebellion.”
“We’ve confirmed Jermon Lormarc is still alive. His goals still include ruling Elvenrude, and he’ll need his past conspirators to make the attempt. Which means this splinter group is more dangerous than we thought.”
Merik dropped his aloof posture and let out a long sigh. “Have you already told Captain Brunic of our discussions?”
“I should have. But I wanted to talk with you first.” Rhyden tipped his head toward a chair. “May I?”
“Of course, I apologize for my manners.” Merik followed his lead and dropped into the chair behind the desk. “What can be done?”
“Kurzi’s gang shouldn’t be that hard to find…if we had enough people looking. Your followers must know some of them. Why haven’t they shared the information with you?”
“They’re afraid.” Merik came to his feet again and crossed to the door to look out on the guild floor. “Half of the workers in this guild are crossbreeds, because nobody else will hire them. It’s been much easier for me, because my father chose to include me in his family. But they’ve spent their lives trying to blend in and not offend someone by their very presence. It’s terrifying for them to take a stand that will bring them to the attention and possible censure of people…like you. Or even me. They’re struggling to protect what little they have.” He stopped, returned to the desk, and sank into his chair. “I’ve felt some of it, but you can’t even imagine what it’s like.”
“No, I can’t,” Rhyden said. “But my family and the Ryndels are interested in doing something about it. Actually, the reappearance of the Cyrilians helped by forcing us to evaluate our past choices and beliefs. Many of us realized there had been huge mistakes. We often saw what we wanted to see.” Rhyden gave a one-shoulder shrug and leaned back. “We can’t undo the past, but we can do better in the future. Let’s talk with your people together, get them to help us.” He paused, momentarily surprised by his offer, but he was on the right track. “We’ll find this gang and separate out those willing to renounce Jermon and his dreams of power. They’ll get the extra chance you want for them. The rest…belong to Brunic.”
Merik pursed his lips and smiled. “Working together. That’s it? That’s your offer?”
Rhyden wasn’t positive, but Merik seemed pleased. “It’s the best deal you’re going to get today.”
“Then I guess I better take it.” Merik stood and shook Rhyden’s hand. “I’ll call a meeting of the duchaen for tonight.”
* * *
As dusk settled over Elvenrude, Rhyden walked down the narrow cobblestone streets of Brierwood. He kept his collar and hood pulled up, not only against the wind but to conceal his face from open view. He’d rather not have anyone report this activity to Seth—or gods forbid—to his grandfather Harad. Nor did he want his presence to spook Merik’s people away before they knew he wasn’t a threat to them. He kept to the shadows whenever possible.
He heard heavy footsteps behind him. Instead of turning to look, he hurried around the next corner and stepped behind a bush. Only seconds later, a brawny, male figure walked briskly past. A dark, knitted hat covered his head. He glanced cautiously around, crossed over the street, and cut between two houses. Someone else who didn’t want to be seen.
Rhyden parted the branches to step out but froze at the sound of more steps. Lighter, quicker. He waited. This time a slight figure in a full, hooded cloak and hand muff drew even with him. A woman. No, damn it. It was Esty.
He reached out a hand and grabbed her arm. She squeaked, but stifled a scream.
“Don’t you ever learn?” he asked in an irritated whisper, as he hauled her behind the bushes with him. “What are you doing now?”
She struggled to shake him off. “Let me go, you idiot. I don’t want to lose him.”
“Lose who?” He tightened his grip as the truth hit him. “That…big man who just went past?” Shock nearly made him speechless. “He clearly didn’t want to be seen. What do you think he’d do if he caught you spying on him?”
“He didn’t know I was there. Now he’s gotten away.” She tapped a dainty foot on the hard ground. “I worked all day to get this far. You’ve ruined everything.”
“Probably true,” he said dryly. “If your goal was to get yourself hurt.” Rhyden’s racing heartbeat slowly returned to normal. “Who was he? Why were you following him?”
“What are you doing skulking about town?” She arched a brow. “I thought you had urgent business in New Orleans. Isn’t that what you said? You lied to me.”
“If I did, it was for your own good. And didn’t you promise me you’d back off? Damn it, Esty. You have no business creeping around at night and chasing ruffians. Now, tell me who that man is.”
“Kurzi Everins. He would have led me to the others. I’m sure there’s a meeting tonight. Why else would he be out?”
Rhyden’s head came up. Why, indeed. And on the street near Merik’s gathering. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Was he there to cause trouble?
Rhyden glanced at Esty’s pert nose and stubborn mouth. She should go home, but he didn’t have time to take her or waste in a useless argument. Still, he had to try. “Let me handle this. Go home, and I’ll stop by later to explain.”
“Handle what? Are you here to spy on the rebels?”
“It isn’t what you think. Merik’s called a meeting of the duchaen. I’m not sure why Everins is here, but I’m certain it’s not good.” He blew out an exasperated breath. She wasn’t leaving, and he definitely didn’t want her following him, possibly blowing his cover or stumbling into danger. He ushered her toward the street. “I assume you’re ignoring my advice, so come on. We have to warn Merik.”
She continued to ask questions but allowed him to direct her across the street. “How did you find out about this? Have you talked with Merik again?”
“I’m trying to help him…just like you wanted.”
“But without me,” she said.
He didn’t bother to answer her, because it was true. He’d done his best to keep her away from further risks, but obviously it hadn’t worked.
They reached the edge of town, and Rhyden spotted the barn with the stone foundation Merik had described. “We’re looking for the cellar,” he said, keeping his voice low.
They found the wooden door in back. The signal was to knock twice, wait, knock twice more. Rhyden looked around, then used the agreed
code. It seemed a little melodramatic, and he gritted his teeth when Esty giggled.
“It wasn’t my idea. Now keep your head down and be quiet.”
The door opened, and they quickly descended into the large root cellar. It had been enlarged at some point—for what original purpose he couldn’t guess—but it easily held nearly four dozen people talking quietly. Merik walked over to meet them and frowned at Esty.
“Don’t ask,” Rhyden said. “We have a bigger problem. Kurzi Everins is here or watching from outside.”
Merik started and shook his head. “Not inside. I’ve watched every time the door opened.” His gaze flicked over the room again. “None of his friends are here either.”
“I thought you didn’t know his friends.” Rhyden eyed the other man, but Merik avoided his gaze.
“I’m not sure if any are actual conspirators…although I have suspicions,” he conceded.
“Then you damn well better be sharing them.” The harsh tone of Rhyden’s whispered remark caused Esty to squeeze his arm.
“Shouldn’t we concentrate on Kurzi Everins?” she asked. “You guys can fight later.”
Rhyden silently fumed. Now she sounded like her sister. She was right, this wasn’t the time, but his new alliance with the duchaen leader wasn’t off to a good start.
“Do you want me look for him? See if I can scare him off?” Rhyden asked.
“I wouldn’t bother.” Merik finally looked at him. “What’s he gain by spying on us? Somebody talked too much about the meeting, but his need to sneak around is encouraging. He apparently doesn’t have anyone inside my group to tell him what we’re doing.”
“If that’s all he wants.”
“What else? We’ve nothing to steal, no secrets to hide. What would be the point?”
“Get serious.” Rhyden could think of several reasons. The primary one would make Merik a target. Eliminate the opposition. It wouldn’t be the first time Jermon’s associates had planned an assassination.
“You mean he’s after me?” Merik laughed. “Let him try. I can take Everins any day. It’s time to get this meeting started.”
To say the duchaen rebels were surprised when Rhyden and Esty pulled back their hoods would be a gross understatement. Bows and knives appeared. Distrust for the aristocracy ran deep. But once the initial alarm passed, they had enough faith in Merik to listen. Ellyn helped by coming to Esty’s side and acknowledging their friendship. As the two men explained events of the last few days and the meeting’s purpose, the worst of the hostility faded, but there were still skeptics.
“Aren’t you a member of the Guard?” one man asked Rhyden. “Why would you help us?”
“I’m special service,” he admitted. “But I don’t answer to Captain Brunic except on assignment. I’ve offered to help because Miss Ryndel and Merik convinced me I should.”
“Why should we trust you?”
Rhyden shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
Merik stepped forward. “I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t trust him. He’s offering us a chance to save some of our brethren. Most of them don’t want Jermon Lormarc or the Cyrilians in control of Elvenrude.”
“That’s true,” a voice from the crowd said. “Only a handful truly follow him.”
“So help us. Give me a chance to talk with those who aren’t Jermon Lormarc’s people, or talk to them yourself. Make them understand. If we can’t do it, they’ll likely end up dead or in the Security Sanitarium for treason.”
“What if the Guard finds them first?” an older woman asked.
“We will have failed. Time could run out any hour now.”
Uneasiness swept through the room. Several talked among themselves. It was a hard decision to expose their friends. Rhyden didn’t expect any of them to talk to him, but if they’d just talk to Merik…
He studied the crowd. Most appeared to support the plan, a few seemed even eager. He’d done the right thing in coming here, but he wished Esty was safely at home. It was bad enough his own name might reach the wrong ears, but if she faced censure from friends or Brunic—even the king—he didn’t know how he could protect her. He glanced at her laughing with Ellyn. Clearly she wasn’t worried…didn’t even realize she should be. He knew better, but the damage was already done.
“OK.” Merik raised his voice to halt the private conversations. “Anyone ready to give me a name? If so, meet me on the side.” He pointed to his left. “If you don’t know someone, start asking questions when you leave here tonight. Don’t worry—”
Excited voices from the back interrupted him. “Do you smell something?”
“Hey, that’s smoke!”
“Fire! The barn’s on fire.”
The crowd stampeded for the cellar door, pushing and shoving. Smoke billowed around them, and the disorderly exodus turned into a frantic rush for survival as they pawed and climbed over each other to get up the narrow steps and into fresh air.
Rhyden wrapped his arm around Esty and moved steadily toward the exit. When he stumbled over an elderly man on the floor, he released her to help the fallen victim back to his feet. “Stay close to me, Esty.”
“I have a hold of your jacket,” she said. But a moment later, she crouched to pick up a small boy who’d been separated from his mother.
What the hell was a child doing here?
Merik jumped on top of a barrel. His voice carried over the chaos. “Stay calm. Don’t trample each other. We’ll get out. Protect the women and children.”
As heavy smoke continued to fill the room, the two dozen still inside gasped for breath, coughing and covering their faces with their arms or clothing. Rhyden shifted the crying child onto his shoulder and put his other arm around Esty again. They’d almost made it to the steps when part of the barn floor behind them gave way. People began screaming.
Rhyden glanced behind him, tempted to go back, but he had to get Esty and the child out first. He reached the bottom of the steps and handed the child off to someone above. Then he pushed Esty forward. She was coughing and tears from the stinging smoke streamed down her face.
She clung to his hand. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Right behind you.”
Before they could say more, helping hands from above lifted her out. Rhyden turned to make his way to those trapped behind him, but all he saw was a wall of flames. Heavy, dark smoke stung his eyes and throat.
Merik appeared out of the smoke, bringing two survivors with him. His face was smudged with black, his hair singed. “There’s nothing we can do for anyone still back there. It’s an inferno, and the rest of the floor will go any second.”
Rhyden grabbed an arm to assist, and between them they dragged and shoved the two victims up the stone stairs. The barn floor collapsed, and flames shot toward the sky. Someone swatted at Rhyden’s back, putting out a shower of sparks on his jacket. He stumbled away from the building and fell to his knees, coughing, fighting to catch a breath of clean air.
Esty knelt beside him. “Are you OK?” When he couldn’t get any words out past the acrid smoke in his throat, she pounded on his back. “Please, Rhyden, tell me you’re OK.”
He put his arm around her to stop the assault and dragged in several deep gulps. He’d never realized how awesome fresh air could be. “I’m OK,” he finally got out.
“Thank the gods.” She put a hand on his soot-covered cheek and a swift kiss on his lips. Then she burst into tears.
Aw, hell. Rhyden got to his feet, pulled her up and into his arms. People were arriving from the village, but he and Esty hadn’t yet been noticed. He pulled her hood up and what was left of his own. “We need to go. There’s nothing more we can do, and I don’t want you around when the authorities arrive. Or gods forbid, your father.”
Most of the duchaen had scattered, disappearing into the village. Merik and a handful of others stood their ground, helplessly watching the barn burn to the ground and stomping out sparks that threatened to spread.
Rhyden
stopped beside Merik. “I have to get Esty out of here. Then I’ll return to help.”
“No, don’t come back. We can handle the little that can be done. Neither of you should be seen here. But it’s time I declared myself. Besides, there are casualties inside. My people. I can’t abandon them.” Merik shoved them toward the woods. “Hurry. I’ll be in touch. This changes nothing.”
Rhyden glanced over his shoulder and saw a brigade of men running toward them from the village. He grabbed Esty’s hand and took off. No one yelled or seemed to notice them, and he slowed to a walk inside the forest, carefully picking his way through the brush until he found a path. Esty remained quiet, but she kept her head turned away, and he suspected she was still crying. He couldn’t think of anything that would erase the horror of what had happened but kept her hand firmly tucked in his.
He stopped just short of the swinging walkway to Esty’s home. “We’re covered with soot and the smell of smoke. How do we explain this to your parents?”
“We don’t. I do. You go on home. They don’t even know you’re in Elvenrude. Mother will cry, and Father will be mad at me, but they’ll get over it.” Trails of tears streaked the smoke residue on her face, but she lifted her chin with a hint of a smile. “After all, Kam’s gotten into scrapes her whole life. It’s my turn.”
“I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone.”
“It’ll be easier on both of us if you do.”
Rhyden frowned. “You must have a very odd opinion of me. I’m surprised you thought I’d agree.”
“Well, I didn’t, but it would be the sensible thing to do.”
Rhyden shook his head and flashed her a reluctant grin. “Let’s get this over with.” He squared his shoulders and wondered what he was going to say to her father.
Meotta Sawyer met them at the door. She took one look and gasped, her hand briefly fluttered to cover her mouth.