Gloria narrowed her eyes. “I think it’s amazing.”
“Yeah, that.” Sally sighed, “I’m gonna go out and talk to him.”
“About?” Gloria asked, sounding apprehensive.
She’s really fallen for him, Sally thought. And she’s terribly worried her mother’s going to screw it up. Aloud, she said, “There’s a small caravan in town, heading north. If we leave in the morning, we could go with them.”
“Oh, okay,” Gloria said, much more enthusiastically.
Can’t wait to get shut of this town, Sally thought, heading out to the yard.
John and Tarc were taking a rest, sitting on a bench. When she walked up John was trying to convince Tarc he could have a future as a blacksmith. As if the kid’s in desperate need of a career. Then she laughed at herself. Most kids his age do desperately need a career, she thought. They don’t wander the countryside saving lives and overthrowing tyrants.
And, after all, John had no idea that Tarc and “Hood” were one and the same. Sally’d honored Tarc’s request that she keep his secret from everyone except Gloria.
John had finished his little speech. He turned to Sally, “What’s up?”
She told them about the caravan heading north. She looked at Tarc, “Do you think John’s ready to travel? He could ride on the wagon most of the time and we’d have the increased safety of going with a group.”
Tarc thought it was a great idea.
They started planning how to pack the wagon once they’d eaten their dinner.
***
Kazy felt guilty hanging around outside the dress shop. She’d been browsing the windows of the stores on King’s Avenue for about fifteen minutes. She also felt embarrassed. She liked to think of herself as the kind of person who wasn’t that interested in clothing. Someone who didn’t keep up with styles or waste a lot of time trying to make herself look pretty.
Somebody serious.
Someone with more important things to do.
Unfortunately, King’s Avenue was the street that was right outside the palace gate and it pretty much only had shops that sold expensive feminine clothing. On the one hand, that provided a good reason for a teenage girl to be loitering there. On the other hand, she felt like it sent the wrong message about the kind of person she was. Well, perhaps, an incorrect message about the “kind of young woman she intended to become” would be more accurate.
She found herself standing, hands on her hips, staring at the gate out of the palace. She found it hard to admit, even to herself, that she was hoping to “accidentally encounter” Jesse Martinez as he left his duties as the baron’s page on his way home. She didn’t even want to think about how she’d explain her presence on the street to anyone she knew.
People she respected.
Unlike the way she felt about herself at present.
The gate swung open and a young man came out.
Kazy turned so abruptly to the window she’d already memorized, she didn’t actually see if it was Jesse or not. Do not glance up there to find out, she sternly admonished herself. Don’t just stand here either! You’re supposed to be window shopping!
She turned slowly away from the palace gates and slowly strolled to the next window. Her eye caught the silhouette of a woman in the store gracefully walking deeper into the shop itself. Do I look that elegant from behind? she wondered. Of course I don’t! Now’s not the time to wonder about it either. I should’ve asked for advice from… Her thoughts ground to a halt. Am I really considering asking someone to watch me walk and give me advice on how to do it… what? Sexier? Or something?
She caught a reflection of herself in the window. Rather than her usual shirt and shorts, she was actually wearing a shift. She’d thought it looked good when she left the tavern, but now she felt appalled. It’s an ugly sack! And, it gives an image that’s not me!
Jesse’s voice came over her shoulder, “Um, I don’t think that dress in the window’s right for you.”
Oh… my… God! Kazy felt the heat in her face. She couldn’t turn around, he’d see her red cheeks. She had to at least speak though! But her throat was constricted. And, she didn’t know what she could say. She’d suddenly couldn’t remember any of the witty things she’d planned to say to him, but even if she’d remembered, she now thought they were completely inappropriate. She swallowed, and finally managed to croak, “Why not?” Oh! She thought sarcastically to herself, That was brilliant…
“It’s too fancy,” Jesse said softly. “You look better in… simple things like the dress you’ve got on.”
With consternation, Kazy thought, Is he some kind of sweet talker? One of those guys who’s supposed to know exactly what to say to girls? Despite all the promises she’d made to herself, she let her ghirit slip out to touch the surface of his mind. No! She thought when she realized how terribly embarrassed he felt himself. What a struggle it’d been to say the words he’d essayed so far. How he felt dismayed that his words had been clumsy. She sensed the enormous effort of will it’d required, just for him to come this way, then stop and speak. How badly he’d wanted to talk to her, but how hard it’d been for him to actually do.
And, just like she’d thought the first time she’d sensed him in the baron’s chamber, she thought, He’s my perfect match.
“In fact,” he said throatily, and Kazy suddenly realized how much effort he was putting in to carry this conversation despite the fact she wasn’t holding up her end, “I thought you looked beautiful in a blouse and shorts the first time I saw you.”
Kazy slowly turned to face him, then realized her face must still be flushed. “Sorry,” she waved at her face, “I’m shy… embarrassed.”
“So am I,” he said softly. “I have a hard time talking to… girls, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t…” He waved his hand back and forth between them as if to indicate conversation. After a moment of silence had reigned between them, he said, “Could I get you something at the sweet-shop?”
“You know… who I am?” Kazy asked, surprised.
“Yes. You’re Kazy Hyllis.”
“How’d you know that?” Kazy breathed.
He glanced down at his shoes, then rubbed at his suddenly pink face. He looked back up into her eyes, “I had to ask. Actually, I wound up asking quite a few people.” He got a brave look, “Though, everyone should know you after what you did to stop the plague.”
“So…” Kazy said, now feeling even more embarrassed and not sure what he’d meant earlier, “are you saying you’d go to the sweet-shop, get something, and bring it back to me?”
“Um, sure…” he said, looking rather crestfallen. “Though, I… was hoping that we could walk to the sweet-shop and pick out your treat together.”
“Oh,” she said, turning and starting down the street, “that sounds like fun.” After they’d walked a few steps in silence, she glanced up at him, “So, do you ask a lot of girls to go for sweets with you?”
He didn’t say anything, so she glanced up at him again.
His blush had reddened significantly. He said, “No. I’ve never done it before. Did I do it wrong?”
She bumped him playfully with a shoulder, “I’ve never been asked, so I wouldn’t know. But, I think you’re doing it perfectly.”
***
Jim Watson started down the stairs into the cellar of his tavern, thinking about what the people in his bar’d been saying about Farley and the banks. The word was that Farley really had collected all or most of the money Krait stole from the banks. Farley’d given the banks back part of that money, keeping a lot for himself. The banks had passed some of the money on to their depositors. But those sons of bitches had also kept a lot for themselves, screwing over the people of the town. This guy Hood had taken the money from Farley, given it to the banks but then made them give everything back to their depositors.
The thing he found hard to believe was that Farley was being left alive! Sure the ex-sheriff was practically destitute, but if Jim Watson’d
been in charge he’d have been tied to a post and flogged to death.
The bankers had all lost a lot of their own money as well. It’d been needed to make up for what hadn’t been recovered from Krait. But—and this was truly incredible—the people were being encouraged to put their money back in the same damned banks. The bank owners were going to be supervised by things called “boards” that were supposed to keep them from doing something like this in the future but…
Watson just couldn’t understand. The bank owners had taken money entrusted to them! The money they owed their depositors. The assholes should be punished beyond just a loss of money.
He was still shaking his head as he uncovered and moved out the false wine crate, opening its back to reveal his little safe. He moved the lamp so he could see the keyhole. A moment later he had the safe open.
The first thing he noticed was a sheet of paper. Where the hell’d this come from? he wondered. He held it up to the light.
His hands started to shake as he recognized the bill of sale for the Hyllis Tavern. Near the bottom it specified the amount he still owed the Hyllises.
That’d been crossed out and under it someone had written, “Paid in Full.”
Dropping the paper, Watson moved the lamp so he could see the stacks of golds in the back corner of the safe.
A lot of them were gone…
~~~
Half an hour later he’d counted and recounted. The money he still owed Hyllises, the money he’d refused to pay them, that amount had disappeared.
Not a copper more.
He tried once again to generate righteous fury, but he kept thinking, I’m mad because—somehow—they took the money I owed them? The money I’d promised to pay?
Grimly he thought, I was just thinking how people like me should be punished!
Turns out I’m an asshole too…
***
Gloria decided she really liked traveling. Having never been anywhere but Walterston—now renamed Freehold—she’d found this journey an eye-opening experience. The caravan had just arrived at Denton’s Crossing and Tarc was taking them into town to try a food unknown to Freehold. Something called pizza.
It was supposed to be a flat bread with mashed tomatoes, cheese, and your choice of some other ingredients. It didn’t sound all that special to her, but Tarc said people really liked it so she was willing to give it a try.
They entered the restaurant and took a seat at a table, talking about things they’d seen so far on the trip. After a brief wait, a pretty woman in her late twenties appeared at their table to take their order. “Hello, you folks look like you’re from out of town. Have you ever had pizza before?”
Tarc nodded, then looked up at the woman. Gloria saw the moment his eyes widened on seeing her. Her heart sank. He likes older women! she thought. Gloria studied the waitress who was examining Tarc’s face with a puzzled look. Oh, she thought, they know each other. Or, he knows her, and she’s seen him somewhere. Gloria supposed that the fact the waitress only vaguely knew him, but he really knew her could represent some kind of worship-from-afar on his part. Gloria wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.
Having gotten no response beyond Tarc’s nod, the woman turned to the three Blacksmiths and asked, “Do you guys need an explanation of exactly what pizza is?”
Sally answered for them, “No, Tarc’s described it to us pretty well.”
The woman’s eyes shot back to Tarc. After a moment’s examination of his face, she dropped to her knees beside his chair. Throwing her arms around him she cried, “Tarc!” and buried her face against his chest.
What the hell?! Gloria wondered.
“Hi Nyssa,” Tarc said, clumsily patting at the woman’s back.
The woman pushed herself back, “You look so different! What’re you doing here in Denton’s Crossing?”
“I’m working as a guard for a caravan… Um, we came in for pizza because, as you know, everybody likes pizza.”
“Oh, yes!” The woman bounced to her feet, “Let me get your order!”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean… I wasn’t trying to get you to take our order sooner.”
“No, that’s not a problem. As soon as I put in your order, I’ve got to go get Iris.” She gave Tarc an apologetic look, “I eventually told her what really happened at Yates farm. She’ll be so pissed if she doesn’t get to see you and give you her own thanks.” Nyssa glanced at the Blacksmiths, then back to Tarc. “Is Daussie here?” she asked eagerly.
Tarc slowly shook his head, “No, my family settled in Clancy Vail and she’s still up there. I just came down to… do some business in Farleysville. I’m on my way back now.” He hesitated, “Do you know how the girls did? Are they okay?”
Nyssa held out her hand and tilted it from side to side. “Some of the ones who were taken in by their relatives have done pretty well. Some are… just okay.” Nyssa’s face crumpled, “Ariel committed suicide and… Serena hates herself. She’s working the streets here in Denton’s Crossing.”
Tarc’s face looked bleak. “Is there anything I can do?”
“It might help if Serena could see you?” Nyssa shrugged, “Probably not, but…”
Looking as if he’d just accepted a huge burden, Tarc said, “Sure. Where would I find her?”
“I’ll find her and bring her here. Just let me just take your order.”
They placed their orders and Nyssa disappeared through the kitchen.
Gloria desperately wanted to ask what all that had meant, but feared poking her nose in where it didn’t belong. Fortunately, her nosy mother asked for her. “What was that all about?”
“Um,” Tarc said, as if he didn’t know where to start. Or perhaps, how much to tell. “When we first went north with Norton’s caravan, there was a group of women, girls mostly, who got free from some… raiders who’d been rampaging around the countryside. Daussie and my mother helped them with… you know… recovery.”
Gloria felt Sally glance at her. Then Sally turned back to Tarc. She said dismally, “Having heard what raiders do in the countryside, we can guess. But we can probably never actually know the depths of the depravity they may have been subjected to.”
Tarc looked depressed. Sounding very sad, he said, “It sounds like Ariel and Serena needed a lot more help than they got.”
“Those kinds of problems…” Sally shook her head, “Sometimes no one can help those kinds of problems. The love of people who care about you makes a big difference, but if there’s no one around that loves you…”
Tarc shook his head in return, “No, my mom’s got a way to help people now. She didn’t back then, but she could make a big difference if they came to her today. She and…” Tarc took in his audience, “a cousin of mine who you don’t know. They’re both really good with mental… trauma.”
“Really?” Sally asked doubtfully.
Tarc nodded with a little more enthusiasm, “The difference her new technique makes is really amazing.”
Sally still looked doubtful, though Tarc was introspectively studying the table and didn’t seem to notice. Gloria asked, “How’d the girls get free from the raiders?”
Tarc looked uncomfortable and took a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s pretty unclear. The raiders’re all dead. Some people think they got in a fight with one another. Others think another group came in and wiped them out.”
Sally snorted a little laugh, “What do you think?”
“Um, I side with the ones who think someone else came in and wiped…”
He stood as a young girl came running in the door, looked around, shouted, “Tarc!” and charged across the room at him. The girl clung to him, panting for breath, tears running down her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” She leaned back and stared up at him pleadingly, “Can we come to Clancy Vail with you?”
Tarc’s eyes widened. He stared at her for a moment, then said, “Hey Iris. Um, if your mother says it’s okay.”
“Are you married
yet?”
Looking bemused, Tarc slowly shook his head.
“Will you marry me?”
Tarc pinched his lips together as if he were doing his best not to laugh. Finally, he got control and slowly said, “Don’t you think we should to get to know each other first?”
The girl said, “I already know everything I need to know about you. I’ll feel safe if you’re around.”
Tarc sadly asked, “You still don’t feel safe?”
She shook her head.
“You should come see my mom. She’s pretty good at helping with those kinds of problems.”
“She’s the one that sings? And makes tea?”
Tarc nodded. “And now she’s got even better things she can do for you.”
The girl gave him a firm nod. “Then I’m coming with you to Clancy Vail.”
Tarc lowered an eyebrow, “If it’s okay with your mom.”
“It will be.” She shrugged and spoke as if it made her an adult, “Besides, I’m almost fourteen.”
A waiter brought their pizza. After her first bite, Gloria eyed it with surprise. It really was tasty.
Tarc ordered more pizza so they’d have some for Iris and Serena. And for Nyssa, if she wanted any despite the fact she worked there all the time.
Gloria thought she should feel jealous of all these other women who so obviously admired and loved Tarc, but it just made her want him even more. But do I have any chance? she wondered.
When Nyssa returned with Serena the girl seemed a mere shadow. So thin Gloria wondered when she’d last eaten. There were bags under her eyes that belied her young age. Despite the cool weather she wore only a thin shift. Instead of a jacket, she held herself wrapped in own arms. When she saw Tarc, her eyes lit with a wry smile. Her greeting wasn’t exuberant like Iris’s had been. Instead, she slowly walked up to him. When Tarc stood, she wrapped her arms around him and simply clung.
Tarc held her for a long time.
Finally, she leaned back and spoke softly, “Thank you for helping us.”
Tarc leaned back and gave her a questioning look.
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