By the time Penny finished her training with Eldrin, she was bruised and sore. She was used to that though. Her sore muscles and exhaustion from the manipulation attempts, deeds in the city, and hours upon hours of weapons training had become just another part of her life.
At another point in her life, Penny might have let the pain sway her. Not now though. It only inspired her to work harder. She couldn't be weak, and knowing Eldrin was so much better than her gave her the motivation she needed to continue to improve.
As she walked into town, Penny felt herself smiling, despite the sore muscles. The last three weeks had been busy for everyone, herself included. The rest of the groups in the resistance had found plenty to do. She'd heard a lot of rumors circulating through the city and she'd been receiving almost daily reports.
There were numerous incidents from Joanna's men, some small, some larger. There had been rotten food, drenched clothing, and one of the men had gone so far as to set rabid dogs loose in one of the barracks. They'd attacked several soldiers, and at least three had died of the wounds in the next few days.
Ryan Remmus was especially proud of one of his latest incidents. Even Penny could not deny how well it had gone. He had commanded his group, as well as several others, to strip naked and coat themselves in shimmering paint. They'd used the same paint on large stones. They'd proceeded to stalk a group of soldiers to a peach party, where they'd waited till they were drunk and then stoned them till they were nearly dead. The soldiers had recovered, but they had fled back to the rest of them in a state of panic, claiming they'd been attacked by the spirits of Valishna.
Erin and Robert were keeping all the ships from the shore. After the first time though, soldiers had been posted there full-time. After that, it was impossible to get to the docks. Their group was forced in trying to come up with constantly new plans of action. At any point in time, they could be found in one of the homes, reworking their plans. Penny had begun to support them financially so they could focus on the resistance.
Penny had offered the same to many o the others. Most had enough to survive off of though. Joanna had been offended by the idea. She didn't want to become Penny's charity case. The accusation had stung. They'd argued about it, and it had turned ugly. It might have come to blows if Eldrin had not stepped in and dragged Penny away.
Penny had been surprised by Eldrin. Over the last few weeks, he had warmed up considerably. He made her laugh, and sometimes he made her want to hit a wall. The combination was confusing at times, but ultimately familiar. He'd stopped trying to control the resistance, and had stuck to offering advice when it was warranted, and berating her when he felt he should. Sometimes in the middle of the night. Sometimes she wondered if he slept in her gardens.
"Penny?"
Penny looked up from her thoughts on the resistance and Eldrin to see Chrissa waving at her from across the street. She waited for the teenager to join her.
"What are you up to?" Penny asked, noticing the white on Chrissa's hands. The younger woman dusted them off on her pants.
"Nothing," Chrissa said. When Penny raised an eyebrow, she shook her head, "I was painting a message about the soldiers. It was nothing."
Penny sighed at her. "You have to be careful, Chrissa. That's dangerous to do in the daylight. If the soldiers had seen you, you'd have been in a lot of trouble. You can't get caught. Keep that stuff on the down low, okay?"
Chrissa sighed at her in return and didn't respond. When Penny frowned, she changed the subject, "Where are you going, anyway?"
"Headed out to do some recruitment," Penny said, "An old friend of Kenneth and Robert's. They could be a big help. Chrissa, is something wrong? You don't look well."
She had just noticed that Chrissa's face was pale and her eyes were red-rimmed.
Chrissa was silent for a long moment as they walked together. Then she shook her head. "Ryan. Ryan fucking Remmus. That's what's wrong. Did you hear? He got his wife pregnant."
Penny was caught off-guard by that. She faltered for a moment in her steps and blinked at the girl. "Yeah. I thought you knew. He told us the other night."
"No," Chrissa said. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, "I didn't know. I just found out."
"Right," Penny said. She was quiet for a moment. Then she cleared her throat. "You know they're married, Chrissa. Look, whatever happened, it happened. But you're young and--"
Chrissa frowned at Penny and then shook her head. "What? I'm not in love with him. We weren't having an affair or anything like that. Good gods, what's wrong with you?"
"Well, then what's the problem?" Penny asked.
"He..." Chrissa frowned and then burst out, "They brought a baby into this! They shouldn't have done that! Good gods, how could they? Look around! Look at what they're bringing a kid into! This world is a mess. The war, the violence..."
For the first time, Penny realized how hurt Chrissa really was. She had to swallow the lump that rose in her throat when she realized the teenager was crying. She'd never seen her break down before, "Chrissa. Chrissa, you can't give up hope for a better future."
"Don't you get it, Penny?" Chrissa wiped a hand across her face, furious, "My sister was a kid. She was just a little kid. Do you have any idea what those men did to her?"
"You don't have to--" Penny started to say but maybe she did, because Chrissa just kept talking.
"She was just a kid and yet they killed her. They stuck her full of knives and they let her die. It wasn't enough just to stab her, they had to stab her over and over. She was in these cotton pajamas and I remember that she was holding this teddy bear, she was clutching it, and she wasn't even any trouble, she wouldn't have hurt them at all, she was just a little girl..."
Penny hesitated and then put her arms around Chrissa. The young woman stiffened and then allowed the hug. "We're going to stop them, Chrissa. I swear to all the Gods, Old and New, we're going to stop them, and we're going to make it to where they can never harm another child like that again. They're not going to hurt the Remmus baby. We're going to protect that child."
Chrissa was silent for a moment and then leaned away from Penny, "Do you promise?"
Penny nodded.
"Good," Chrissa said, and then just like that, she was okay again. They started walking once more.
It was a few minutes before either of them spoke. "Did you say who we're going to meet?"
"An old friend," Penny explained, "She has a lot of money, and she told me in confidence that she's really not that supportive of Lamonte. Not that anyone really is, of course, but I'm hoping we can convince her to give us a hand. If she's interested, she could be a huge financial aide."
"We do need more money," Chrissa said with a sigh. "It'd be nice to have a few more backers."
Penny nodded. There were too many people in the resistance who didn't understand the necessity of recruiting the wealthy of Valishna to their side. Penny didn't have any patience for that. If Lamonte could take advantage of gold, Arinford should too.
The two of them walked in silence for a time.
"Hey Penny," Chrissa said.
Penny ignored her. She was thinking of Joanna, talking about how she wouldn't be a charity case, how gold wasn't that important.
"Penny," Chrissa repeated.
"What?" Penny said with another sigh. She ran her braid through her fingers thoughtfully.
"Where does this friend of yours live?"
Penny blinked, "Just up the hill."
"Like... up there?"
Penny followed Chrissa's gesture. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
Smoke was billowing up from the house, creating a black funnel in the sky.
"Oh no," she whispered.
"Oh no is right," Chrissa said. When Penny looked at her, she gestured around.
Penny turned slowly. All across the city were matching spirals of smoke, creating a blanket of dark and ash in the bright blue sky.
THIRTY-FOUR
Let them Be Well Used
He couldn't think of what to say. He'd never been a great letter man. It irritated his wife, he knew. She'd love to hear from him more while he was deployed, but the words always seemed to float away from him.
She understood, of course. She hadn't married him because he'd been good at writing out long love letters. There were other reasons, better reasons. Samuel thought of her now, with her dark hair, and olive complexion, and wide, laughing mouth.
Their daughter looked like her. Samuel missed them both terribly. He was tired, tired of being away. He'd do anything for King Sullivan but he was so ready to be at home, taking care of his family.
He picked up the quill again and wrote out his wife's name. Then he put the quill down, got up, stretched, and put on a jacket. The weather was warm enough, tropical even, but the wind was strong tonight.
Samuel slipped out of his chambers and left the castle. He headed towards the closest city. He could have borrowed a horse or a carriage, but he didn't mind walking. It only took him a couple of hours to make it on foot, and that gave him time to mull things over in his head.
Matilyn would be with Princess Catherine. They had begun leaving her alone more and more, especially after Matilyn's idea to send Ra'sha in for information. They had to be careful though, they didn't want to be too obvious in what they were doing. So tonight, Matilyn.
He believed her when she said that Catherine had designed the attack herself, to postpone the wedding, and to shift blame off herself when the time came to kill King Sanders. Samuel didn't like to believe it, but he could see the malice in the girl's eyes. He always had.
A letter had arrived from King Sullivan. He wanted to know what the delay was in the marriage. So far, they'd managed to keep a lid on things, to keep the Good King from finding out the truth about his daughter's attack, but Samuel knew they couldn't keep it under wraps much longer. Sullivan would have their heads if he thought they were keeping important information from him.
Samuel sighed.
Then there was the Lord Swin. Aaron. Samuel didn't know what his obsession with the man was. Matilyn and him had already decided he was not involved, but Samuel still couldn't let the issue go. He knew the man was up to something. He just didn't know what.
Matilyn had pointed out their lack of time. With Catherine plotting, they barely had time to keep on top of things as it were. Playing investigator in an unrelated case seemed foolhardy at best. Still, he couldn't let it go.
He just couldn't.
When he reached the town, Samuel went to one of the bars. He wasn't a huge fan of drinking, it impaired thought too much, but he thought tonight, he'd have a couple of beers. Nothing too heavy.
The bar he entered was well-lit and clean looking. Samuel had a time in his youth when he'd preferred the dingy atmospheres of rundown bars with dirt on the floor and film on the glasses. There was something mystique about them, something that drew the eye of the young. Those were the places you'd find fist fights, silver buy-in card games, and women selling more than drinks. Those were the places you'd choke on cigar smoke, and down whiskey by the cup.
They had their place, those dingy bars. Samuel thought everyone ended up there at one point or another, drowning their sorrows in a place that reiterated everything you were trying to forget.
He wasn't trying to forget anything though, and he wasn't depressed. He wasn't looking for a fight, or a fuck. He was just looking for a beer, and maybe some information. So he chose his well-lit, clean place, and he wasn't surprised at all how empty it was. Not at all.
The bartender was a young man with a long mustache. He came up to Samuel as soon as he'd sat down. "Haven't seen you here before."
"I'm just visiting," Samuel said, "Not a regular."
The bartender nodded. "We don't usually see many visitors in here. Usually just men looking to deal in business. Are you meeting someone?"
"Just myself," Samuel said and laughed. The bartender seemed a little hesitant but then joined in.
"Well, can I get you something?" he asked.
"A beer," Samuel said.
"What sort?"
"Something that tastes like oak," Samuel said.
The bartender nodded and went to fetch the beer.
"What kind of business happens in here?" Samuel asked when he had his beer in front of him.
The bartender shrugged, "The usual kind. Someone wants something, land or work or money, and someone else has that something. They sit in here, and they have a few glasses of the higher end stuff, and they work out something or other."
"High class people," Samuel guessed.
The bartender nodded. "We don't see a lot of ruffians. That's for down the street."
"I thought as much," Samuel said.
"Can I ask your name?"
"Samuel Frien."
The bartender held out a hand, "Good to meet you, Samuel. I'm Freddie."
The hell of it was, he looked like a Freddie. Samuel mused this over as he took the man's hand and gave it a firm, quick shake. It was the checkered shirt, perhaps, the way it was tucked into his pants.
A faint smile rose to his lips, which could have turned into another laugh if he hadn't bit it back.
"So if you're not doing business, Samuel, what are you doing here?" Freddie asked.
"I'm looking out for someone," Samuel said, "Maybe you can give me a hand."
Freddie shrugged, "I might be able to."
"I want to know everything there is to know about a man," Samuel said, "You look like the sort of guy who would stock up on information."
"Could be," Freddie said.
Samuel took a drink of his beer and swallowed. He cleared his throat and said, "I want to know what there is to know about Aaron Swin."
Freddie's face paled a little and suddenly he didn't look so friendly, "Lord Swin?"
"That's the man," Samuel said.
"Why are you asking about him?" Freddie demanded.
"Could be that I'm just interested in the guy," Samuel said, "He's got quite the reputation but nobody seems to enjoy a few words about the fellow."
Freddie shrugged, "Lord Swin has worked very hard to gain peoples' trust. And vice versa. Its very difficult to get the man to trust you. They're not going to throw that trust away for a few gossiped words."
Samuel leaned forward, "You've got the wrong end of it. I'm not looking to gossip about the man. I'm just looking to find out what he's like. What makes him tick. I met the guy, and I'm just curious if there's more to him than political nonsense."
"Lord Swin is a fine man," Freddie said, "He donates to all the local charities. He gives plenty of money to the poor, and he helps the city stay out of shambles. He doesn't make enemies very easily. You won't find a bad word about him here."
"I'm not looking for a bad word," Samuel said.
"There was a girl who got pregnant," Freddie said, "Her boyfriend beat her up constantly. People were worried about her and the baby. Lord Swin took them in, gave her a job and a home, and made sure the boy never got within shouting distance from her again. That's the kind of man he is."
"Sounds like a good kind."
Freddie nodded.
Samuel took another sip of beer. "What sort of business does he do?"
"He's got a hand in everything," Freddie said, "Textiles, publishing, farming, timber. He's got a clothing line too. He deals in a lot of loans as well. Gets plenty of interest back."
"Fair loans?"
"Fair loans," Freddie said. "He's a good man."
Samuel considered this quietly for a good time, nursing his beer. Freddie drifted off to help other people. He hadn't found out any information he didn't already know about the man. He'd questioned people in the castle as well.
Part of him hoped to find out the man was dirty. If he was dirty, it would make a lot of sense why h
e'd lied in the castle. Perhaps there were shady business dealings, or...
Samuel shot up straight. He hadn't considered an affair. What if the man was sleeping with someone in the castle? That could explain a lot. He didn't want to tarnish his wonderful reputation, but he was having intimate relations with someone that wasn't his wife.
Perhaps it was even someone important. Someone that would cause a lot of drama for him if it should be found out. Or maybe someone young. He wouldn't be the first man to have an affair with a young woman, barely into adulthood.
He thought of Matilyn and Lynelli and smirked a little.
"What's his wife like?" Samuel asked when Freddie returned to fill his stein.
"Oh, she's a saint," Freddie said, "Beautiful too. Half the city is in love with her, and for good reason. She goes out of her way to help every person that she meets. You won't find a nicer woman."
Samuel nodded. "They've got two kids, don't they?"
"Sure," Freddie said, "Ra'sha, and Camille."
"What are they like?" Samuel asked.
Freddie shrugged. "They're not their parents, if that's what you're asking. Both of them seem nice enough, with generous hearts, but they both get wrapped up in their own duties. Camille is an artist -- she married a fellow who was also an artist, and the two of them backed out of court. Stopped going completely.
"The other one, she's a scholar. Spends most of her time studying and planning. Nice girls, though, don't get me wrong."
Samuel nodded, thinking of Ra'sha. Thinking how brave she was. "No sons? Who will take over the family business?"
"Ra'sha," Freddie said immediately, "and one of their nephews, most likely. But Ra'sha, for sure. She still lives with her parents, and she's smart as a whip."
Samuel smiled a little.
"Well, thank you for the talk," he said. He put some coins on the table.
"That's too much," Freddie said.
"It's never too much for a good conversation," Samuel said. He thought of the idea of an affair again, and his smile widened. "You've kept me company."
"I didn't tell you anything you couldn't have heard from anyone in the city," Freddie said. He pushed back half the coins. Samuel ignored them, heading for the door.
Revolution (Cartharia Book 2) Page 36