Venture Unbroken

by R. H. Russell

  Venture dammed up the little stream of panic inside, refusing to allow himself to appear unnerved. “The Bakers were of my class, and no one was hurt. There’s no law against that.”

  “And yet, it is a revealing episode regarding your character. To say nothing of the troubling stories we have compiled from your younger years.”

  Out of control. Reckless. Always looking for a fight. How many times had he heard those complaints, those admonitions, even from those who loved him most? It was true. Jade had been right, at Healer’s house that night, when he’d beaten Hunter nearly to death. He’d ruined both of their lives.

  “You are to report to the Springriver County Meeting House first thing in the morning, the third day of Summer’s Third Month, to be heard, and if found guilty, to be delivered your punishment.”

  The third of Summer’s Third Month. The day he was supposed to be officially entering Society with Jade Fieldstone at his side, at the Fords’ anniversary party. Instead he’d be on trial.

  “I’ll be there.” Venture hid his fear, the tug of despair, behind a confident smile. He turned his back and began to walk away.

  “Do you not want to know the extent of the possible punishments you face?” Longlake called out. “The permanent loss of your right to be armed, in addition to up to eight years in the lockup, is nothing to smile at, Mr. Delving.”

  “Let’s go, Dash,” Venture said. “Earnest.”

  Venture fumed as his old enemies strode away. The grind, clomp, roll of the retreating government carriage echoed in the street. He couldn’t help wondering if Grant Fieldstone had something to do with this, if he would really go this far.

  But Venture had more immediate concerns. His friends still stood in place, motionless, stunned, with questions in their eyes that he had no desire to answer. They had no idea about what he’d done to Longlake; he hadn’t wanted to talk about it to anyone.

  Yet they’d stood up for him, believed in him. And now he was going to have to tell them everything.

  #

  Venture left Earnest, Dasher, Chance, and the carriage at the townhouse in Twin Rivers Town and headed up the sunny hill to the Fieldstones’ on foot. He needed a word with Grant, alone.

  Frank opened the front door. “Vent! Mr. Delving . . . everyone’s worried about you.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Mrs. Bright especially. She . . .” Frank shifted nervously, as though embarrassed to say what the problem was. Because the problem was Venture.

  Venture brushed past Frank and went straight to the kitchen. He’d reassure Mrs. Bright and then he’d take care of business.

  In the kitchen, streams of sunshine and flashes of cooking flame painted the white walls with yellow light, contrasting with the strangely dark mood in the house. Mrs. Bright, floured up to her elbows, was kneading a big lump of seedy brown dough.

  “Hey, Mrs. Bright. Did you miss me?”

  She gave a little jump of surprise. But instead of crying out for joy or embracing him or peppering him with questions, she said, “Oh, Vent,” and jabbed the blob of dough in her hands. Tears formed in her gray eyes.

  “What is it?” The hand of fear twisted his insides in its grip. “Did something happen? Is my family all right?”

  “No—I mean—yes, they’re fine. Everyone’s well. That’s not it at all. You’re in such trouble, for what you did to that Crested man. Everyone knows now. They’re going to lock you up, Vent.”

  He gathered up a smile again. “They’re not going to lock me up. It’s going to be all right.” He squeezed her gently above the floury elbows, wishing he believed it entirely himself. “I’m the Champion of All Richland, not just some bonded boy. I’m going to work everything out, with Master, with the law. You’ll see.”

  But she was shaking her head the whole time, plucking sticky bits of dough from between her fingers with an uncharacteristic harshness. The tears rolled over her cheeks. “That doesn’t change things, Vent. They’re still who they are, and to them you’ll always be—” Her voice broke on a sob.

  “Mrs. Bright.” He tried to get her to look at him, but she turned away.

  A piece of dough fell from her hands to the floor. She didn’t pick it up. “Go wait in the hall now.” She nodded to the other door. “I’ll tell Frank you’re here.”

  He didn’t bother telling her that Frank already knew he was here. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t even speak. She wiped her hands and left him there, and he picked up the smidge of dough for her and stuck it to the lump.

  He waited with mounting concern, noting how quiet the house was, how slowly the minutes passed. Too long. Much too long. At last Frank came for him and escorted him to Grant’s office.

  Grant sat behind his office desk, writing. He put down his pen, and without a greeting, commanded, “Sit down.”

  “Yes, sir.” Venture settled back against the upholstered wooden chair.

  Grant leaned back in his own, larger, more generously stuffed chair, and crossed his arms. Behind him, the drapes were drawn against the sun. The window was open, and a feeble breeze stirred the drapes, letting flashes of daylight glimmer through.

  “Did they find you already, then?”

  “Who, sir?”

  “The law. You’re not wearing the sword and dagger Jade gave you.”

  “Do you know something about that, sir?”

  “I know that Hunter Longlake is pressing charges. Prowess Longlake was just here, feeling me out. Trying to figure out if I’d still take your side.”

  “I see.”

  “Whatever your motivation was that night, my views on what you did haven’t changed.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “The lawmen came asking about you, too. I told them your contract had been fulfilled. They took my word for it. I’ll have nothing to do with any charges against you, Venture. What happened between us, between you and Jade, is family business.”

  Venture nodded.

  “I’ll speak for you at your hearing. I’ll testify that your contract has been fulfilled to my satisfaction. I’ll offer nothing against you in that regard.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Venture said again. It was getting more and more difficult to speak.

  “And I’ll defend your actions against Hunter Longlake, as I did before. But Venture, I don’t think . . . I don’t think it’s going to be enough.”

  “Things are different now. I’m Richland’s Champion, and a man of means.”

  “It’s not that simple. Longlake didn’t decide on his own to press charges. He wanted the whole thing to just go away. But powerful people found out about it. They’ve made it worth his while to come forward. Apparently his pride had a price, and I’m sure the pat on the back his Crested friends are giving him for helping get rid of you doesn’t hurt either. The wrong people want you gone, Vent. Gone! If I had ever thought it would come to this . . .”

  That was it, really. That last bit. They’d convinced Hunter Longlake he could have his revenge. It was the only thing that could’ve persuaded him. So much for Grant’s concerns about the Fords’ party. There were actually tears shining in his eyes. Tears for Venture.

  “I’m not sorry for the opportunity you gave me,” Venture said. “I’ll never be sorry for that.”

  Grant just nodded. “Jade’s out riding, as usual. Trying to outrun her troubles.”

  “I’ll go find her,” he said, “But after this legal mess is taken care of, I’ll be back to talk with you about her, about us.” Venture rose and offered his hand to Grant.

  Grant clasped it and shook it. He didn’t argue because he thought that soon Venture would be gone. Locked up. Venture could see it in his eyes. But that wasn’t true. It wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t happen.

  Chapter Seven

  Summer’s Third Month, 659 After the Founding

  Sweat trickled from Venture’s hair, tickling his neck and soaking his collar. He had to concentrate just to breathe; it was so stuffy with the windows to Judge
Plains’s hearing room latched tightly against the shouts of the crowd surrounding the County Meeting House in Twin Rivers.

  Few people were allowed inside the hearing room. Only those whose testimony the judge had agreed to hear. Venture sat on one end of the long, polished stone table with his accusers seated to his left, his supporters to his right, and the judge himself in the seat of honor at the head. There were far more people on the left than the were on the right. Only Grant and Jade Fieldstone and Dasher Starson had been approved to speak on Venture’s behalf, and Jade had been dismissed after her testimony got too heated.

  “Delving, Delving!” the crowd outside chanted, but their words, like those Dasher was speaking in his defense, seemed to do nothing but irritate Judge Plains. Venture forced himself to sit tall, not to tug at his collar.

  “Grant Fieldstone gave Venture Delving the opportunity to be a fighter,” Dasher said. “It was an extraordinary thing to do, and because of that, I had the opportunity to know him. To watch him grow into a man, to help him develop into a champion. Venture Delving is my friend first, above all else. But there is nothing like the time we spend training together. It will be a tragedy if it has to end—a tragedy for every fighter in Richland not to have Venture Delving on the mat.”

  Judge Plains held up his hand. “I think I have heard enough.”

  Venture held his breath. The room grew silent. The voices outside might as well have been a world away.

  “The situation is clear.” Judge Plains removed his spectacles and set them on the table in front of him. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and took his time wiping his brow.

  Then he looked Venture right in the eye. He pointed a crooked finger—a finger that must’ve been broken years ago—at him. “You, Mr. Delving, are a violent and a dangerous man. To let you loose would be to encourage bloodthirstiness and lawlessness in all those ill-bred rabble out there!”

  Plains waved his sweat-soaked handkerchief at the wall, beyond which the protesters were still shouting. “And those like them, who have begun causing trouble all over the country. I owe it to this community and to all of Richland to hold you accountable for your disrespect and your aggression. Therefore, on this date, the Third of Summer’s Third Month, in the year 659 After the Founding, I, Judge Gather of the Plains, of Springriver County, find you, Venture Delving, guilty of premeditated assault with intent to cause serious injury against a Crested man, while a bondsman. I hereby sentence you to eight years behind bars in the lockup of Springriver County.”

  A stillness hung in the room. The chanting of the crowd outside beat into Venture’s heart the futility of the will of so many. He may have won the Championship, he may have, with Dasher’s tireless campaigning on his behalf, won over great numbers of Richland’s people, but he hadn’t won over the right ones, the only ones that mattered.

  Hunter Longlake had been seated as far away from Venture as possible. From the opposite end of the table, he smiled smugly, rose, shook the judge’s hand, and left the room.

  “Venture.” Grant’s voice quaked with emotion. “You don’t deserve this. I put you in this position. What I said to you, before you left for the Championship—I was wrong.”

  Venture shook his head. “I should’ve known better.”

  “No, they should have known better!” Grant slammed his fist on the table. “All of us, we should know better! Is this what we call justice? Is this worthy of Richland?”

  “Guard!” Judge Plains commanded, “Escort Mr. Fieldstone out of here at once!”

  The door to the antechamber where the family of the accused was permitted to wait opened, and more guards entered. Two led Grant out, and another pair approached Dasher. Dasher gave them a look of utter contempt, and they kept their hands off him. They didn’t dare do any more than walk uselessly alongside him as he filed out.

  The hearing room was empty. Only Venture, Judge Plains, and two guards remained.

  “This is Reed,” Plains said, “and Hardy. They’ve been specially chosen for you.”

  Something about the way Plains said specially chosen—a new edge to the coldness in his voice, sent a pang of fear through Venture. Reed and Hardy were enormous. But the lawmen ought to know that size alone wasn’t enough to intimidate, let alone control, Venture Delving. Was there more to them, more to this choice of guards for Twin Rivers’ most famous prisoner?

  Silently, Venture assessed them. Reed was fair and blue-eyed and a little slimmer, Hardy just as tall, but broader than his partner, and darker. They grasped Venture’s arms roughly, twisted them behind his back, and shackled them. The clink of the irons closing around his wrists was so loud.

  His body tensed against the intrusion, against everything that was happening, but he willed himself to walk out with them into the anteroom, in front of the people he loved. And that was when it hit him. They’re really doing this to me. They’re really going to keep me here. They’re going to take it all from me, everything.

  Earnest hadn’t been allowed inside the Meeting House at all. He was somewhere in the crowd outside, desperately waiting to hear the verdict. He hadn’t been accepted as a witness and he wasn’t a family member. Now Venture wouldn’t get to say good-bye to him.

  But Jade stood on the other side of the room with Justice’s arm around her shoulder. Grace was beside them. Tory, his eldest niece, held Chance’s hand. Tory was weeping openly, while the haunted look Venture had worked so hard to erase had returned to Chance’s dry eyes. Chance—Venture had promised him just before the Championship that he wouldn’t be locked up.

  Justice’s eyes shone with tears, but Jade just blinked at Venture’s shackled hands in disbelief. Instinctively, Venture’s arm twitched to reach out for her, and the too-tight irons chafed his skin. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—to her, but something grabbed hold of his insides and pulled him down into the depths, all the way to that dark place he’d been the night his mother died. It terrified him to sense that place again, to recognize it so completely.

  The guards squeezed his arms, trying to jerk him away. Venture’s fury roared up in place of the despair. He glared from one guard to the other. I could take them, even with my hands behind my back. But then what? How could he make it out of the building? And if he did, he’d be not only a fugitive, but a famous one. He couldn’t go unrecognized. Not ever again.

  “Vent.” Jade’s voice, high with tension, interrupted his desperate thoughts.

  Her pale blue dress revealed her arms, tan where the sun had kissed them, sprinkled lightly with freckles. Her face ought to have looked just as summery-sweet and alive, but there was an inner paleness there, and her eyes were red-rimmed. She’d put everything on the line for him, giving testimony regarding Hunter that was sure to get out and destroy whatever was left of her reputation. Then she’d been dismissed from the hearing room, left to wait and to hope for any news but this.

  Plains might have found Venture guilty of attempted murder and had him hanged; there were those agitating for such a charge. But still, eight years was the maximum for the charges Hunter had brought against him, the worst they could have realistically expected.

  “Jade—”

  “You will not address the lady so familiar!”

  Reed shoved his big body between Venture and Jade. His breath was hot in Venture’s face.

  Venture stared him down.

  “If you strike me, we will retaliate, with our swords if that’s what it takes to subdue you. If you’re still alive after that, you will be punished severely.”

  “Venture!” Jade took a handful of his suit coat. “Don’t put me through that, too! Don’t.”

  “I love you, Jade.” He hardly recognized his own voice. It sounded so rough and hollow.

  Reed raised his arm to backhand him in the face. Instinctively, Venture blocked it with his shoulder, hitting the arm away. Steel sang behind him. But it was Jade’s voice that stopped him.

  “Vent! No!”

  It was too la
te. Though he gave them no resistance, just stood solid and unmoving, they beat on him. Every fiber of Venture’s body screamed to fight back. He could hear Tory and Grace sobbing. He caught glimpses between blows, of Jade trying to stay strong. Dasher and Grant were shouting, trying to talk some sense into the guards, and Justice was trying to get the girls out of there, but none of them would go.

  Venture told himself that if he didn’t fight back, the beating would have to stop soon. Things would be different when he was alone with them, when the girls weren’t watching. He kept his mind on that as he absorbed a knee right in his gut. He forced the would-be grunt of pain into a slow, quiet exhalation of air instead.

  There was no flash of surprise on his face at the pain; he knew just how much each blow would hurt before he took it. When he saw the looks on the guards’ faces—surprise verging on alarm—at how he took the punishment, Venture almost laughed. He might have been foolish enough to smile, but he caught a glimpse of Dasher trying to turn Jade away, to comfort her.

  Jade brushed Dasher aside and stood firm, holding back her tears. Venture opened his bleeding mouth to say good-bye, to tell her to go, but he knew that she never would. He knew what she was thinking. She’d run once, while he was being beaten—when he was just a kid trying to protect her from a handful of thugs hungering for violence and worse—and she would never stop regretting it. Never mind that he’d assured her it was the smartest thing she could’ve done, that it had saved them both.

  Venture wanted to scream. Just go, blast it. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she flee the room like a proper lady in distress, her dress whirling behind her, cries stifled by a delicate hand held over her mouth?

  Instead she was so much more. Determined. Strong. Ready to do battle on his behalf. Jade was terrible at hiding her emotions, and though she refused to cry, the outrage and anguish were all too clear, reminding him that not only was he going to have to face life in the lockup, but he was going to have to face knowing the sort of life he’d left Jade with. How many years would she spend forsaking every opportunity, every chance at happiness, because of what was happening to him?