by N M Zoltack
Yes, she would force herself to spend more time with Bates, starting now.
Rosalynne had hoped to learn more from her father about the island Vincana to the south. That island was by far the largest one after the main island of Tenoch. The people living there interested her far more than the other islanders.
But her father had not been in the mood to talk. She could tell that from the moment she entered his room. That he had not broken his fast with them told her that he was not in a good mood. She suspected that he dreamed of their mother often, and whenever he did, his mood would become either volatile or isolatory. He wished to lose himself in his thoughts, in his memories, losing himself to a time when he had been truly happy.
I wish that he could find happiness with us.
But she knew by now and had accepted that would never be the case. Her father’s happiness had been tied to the life of one woman, and since she had passed, his happiness had passed as well.
Rosalynne hadn’t even brought up Vincana. She hadn’t wanted to disturb him. Maybe her presence would help him. It did not seem to harm any at least, and for that, she was grateful.
Maybe one day, she would learn more about those on Vincana. Maybe not. Her father used to visit the other islands, or so Rosalynne had been told by the vicar. Visiting other islands had ceased after their mother had died.
As Rosalynne made her way to the royal nursey, she vowed to herself that she would one day see Vincana and all of the other islands. Once she was queen. Which would hopefully be a long time away. Although she took her sessions with her tutors very seriously, Rosalynne still felt so very ignorant of the rest of the world. How could she possibly rule over lands so very far away? Especially when she did not know the people, was ignorant to their wants and desires and hopes and dreams?
For now, she would only focus on the wants and needs of a small babe.
The wet nurse was just laying Bates down when Rosalynne entered the nursery. A plump woman with a bosom as large as Rosalynne’s head, the wet nurse smiled at the princess.
“Come to see your brother, have you?” the nurse asked with a wide smile. “Here. Let me get him for you.”
“If he’s sleeping…” Rosalynne protested.
“Nonsense. He’s awake.” The wet nurse placed Bates into Rosalynne’s hands. “I will be back in just a moment. I have a few other babies to feed. If you can only stay for a minute, do not worry. I will send a maid to come who can take over watching him for you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Rosalynne murmured, hoping the statement would not prove to be a lie. Already, Bates felt so much heavier than he had since he had been first born. He was looking all around, so very observant. He grabbed some loose strands of her hair and yanked hard.
“He has a good grip, that one.” The wet nurse beamed, curtsied hastily, and dashed out the door, waddling all the while.
The good woman had referred to Bates as Rosalynne’s brother. Not strictly true as they did not share a mother or a father.
“Who is your daddy?” Rosalynne asked the baby.
Bates laughed. Drool covered his chin.
She smiled despite herself. He seemed to be so very happy. In that, he reminded her of Noll.
Although, lately, her brother had seemed angrier than he ever used to be. Why was that? What was bothering him? Maybe she should find him. Truly she was surprised that he had not come to see Bates, given their discussion of the baby.
“Do you love Noll?” she whispered to Bates.
The baby babbled.
She giggled. There was something so very peaceful and wonderful about holding one so young and innocent. Why hadn’t she come to see Bates more? Maybe more of the world’s problems could be solved if people would only spend time with a babe as happy as this one.
Rosalynne brought the baby over to the window and peered outside. So many servants and nobles and even peasants were rushing about, tending to their tasks.
“Do you see them all below us?” she asked Bates. “One day, you will walk among them. You will wear a crown.”
She hesitated. Yes, he would. It might have to wait until her father had passed, but Bates would wear a crown. She would see to it personally.
“You will be a prince, just like Noll. He loves you so very much. Noll is a good boy. I’m sure you are too.”
Noll wasn’t really a boy. Not anymore. He was only two years younger than she was. He was sixteen. Noll was nearly a man, yet he acted like a boy so much of the time. She had asked the vicar about why Noll was the way he was a long time ago. He explained about how her brother had been dropped on his head. Somehow, Noll had gone from being a normal, healthy baby to being a little bit slow. Honestly, it did not bother Rosalynne. She loved Noll just as he was. That was not to say that she did not find him trying at times, but the same could be said for Vivian.
“Will you ride horses? Jump with them? Maybe you can convince Noll to learn. I have tried. Oh, my, have I tried. And you can learn how to use a sword.”
Rosalynne hesitated at that. Her father refused to allow Noll to learn how to wield a sword. Yes, at times, Noll could be a little rash, and he wasn’t known for his balance either. But he remained a prince. Just because he wasn’t like the other boys his age did not mean that he should be treated so differently. He still wore a crown.
Rosalynne turned away from the window. The maid had silently slipped into the room already.
The maid stepped forward to take Bates, but Rosalynne shook her head.
“Won’t you please fetch my needlepoint for me?” Rosalynne asked.
Without a word, the maid nodded and exited the room. A few minutes later, she returned, but Rosalynne was too engrossed with dancing with Bates. She had often seen Noll dance with the baby, and she hadn’t understood why he would. Now, she did. At first, the baby had been so excited and happy. Then, the gentle rocking movements seemed to settle him, and Bates nestled against her. His tiny body felt so very warm against her skin, and she breathed in deeply. He smelled so sweet.
Gradually, though, her arms grew tired. He was not that heavy, but still, she could not hold him forever.
“Please, won’t you lay him down for me?” Rosalynne asked. The princess was too afraid that she would jar the baby and he would stir. She did not wish to be the reason why he would start crying.
The maid stepped over to them, her footsteps silent. Gently, she eased the baby from the princess’s arms and laid him down. She covered him with a blanket and moved back to her position along the back wall of the room.
Rosalynne settled into the chair beside the cradle and picked up her needlepoint. She hardly noticed that the wet nurse returned, checked on the baby, and then departed. Eventually, Rosalynne realized she had fallen asleep and it was nearly time for the midday meal. Sighing, she stretched her back.
A different maid from earlier was standing near the cradle.
“Is he still sleeping?” Rosalynne asked.
She approached and peered down at the baby. He looked so very peaceful.
“He… is…” the maid said. For some reason, the girl seemed nervous. “I will be right back.”
She darted from the room and returned in a few minutes with the wet nurse, but by then, Rosalynne had already realized what was wrong.
Numbly, Rosalynne stepped to the side so the wet nurse could try to wake the baby, but Rosalynne knew it would be of no use. For whatever reason, Bates would not wake.
25
Rase Ainsley
When Rase arrived, he could tell that things were already not good at the Jolly Snapdragon. First, a hulking man with huge eyes that had to be Frieda’s pa was throwing out three men. The trio all had bloodstains on their shirts, and one’s arm hung at an awkward angle.
Then, inside, there were less people here than usual. Rase had slept most of the day, Leanne covering for him with their ma after he told her that someone was looking for Maxene for them. His sister hadn’t even smiled, though, and Rase knew she had given
up hope.
Honestly, so had Rase at this point. He just hoped he could learn what had happened to his sister’s friend.
Because he had slept so much during the day, Rase had arrived earlier than he had the previous night. His pa, Linton, and the others weren’t here yet.
That didn’t stop Rase. He launched into work, finding empty tankards and refilling them. Time flew by for him, and he started to grow dizzy. When he went to the back to refill yet more tankards, he paused and leaned his head against the stone wall.
For the first time that night, he spied Frieda. She marched over to him. “You’ve been keeping track of how many tankards each person is having?”
“Y-Yes,” Rase lied.
“Burton?”
Rase knew Burton Hull. He lived in on a hill not too far away from the marketplace. His hair was more white than black, and he had started to grow a mustache.
“Three so far,” Rase answered.
Frieda pursed her lips, but she didn’t argue with his number. He knew he was accurate with Burton.
“What about Eadric?” she challenged.
“Ah, who is that?” Rase asked sheepishly.
Frieda sighed and shoved all three tankards to one hand so she could wearily wipe her forehead. For a young girl, she acted as if she were a mother scolding a petulant child.
“He’s the guy with the scales,” she explained.
There was only one guy who that could refer to, a man with a huge patch on both arms of badly burned skin.
“Oh, him,” Rase said. “Four.”
Frieda rolled her eyes. “He never has more than two,” she informed him, and that’s after all night here. He couldn’t have had four already. The night is just starting.”
Rase grimaced. “I’m pretty sure… In my defense, you never told me that I have to keep track. I didn’t yesterday.”
“Yesterday, you did one table, and I kept track for you. If you expect to work here, you need to earn your keep.”
“That’s what I thought I was doing,” Rase grumbled, “by helping with other tables.”
She bit her lower lip and then nodded. “I suppose I didn’t tell you, but I hadn’t expected you to just jump right into work. You look dazed. Are you feeling all right?”
“I am a little woozy,” he admitted.
“See Osgar,” she said. “And then get back to it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Frieda giggled, grabbed his two tankards in her free hand, and proceeded to fill all five and leave without spilling a drop.
The only good part about the night so far was that Osgar’s stew was thick and meaty because it was early yet. Rase wanted more than just his bread bowl’s worth, but he had overheard his pa’s joyous laughter, and Rase knew he had to return to work immediately.
Work. Maybe this could become a steady thing. If Rase worked hard enough, maybe he could bring some stew or pottage home every morning, enough for his family. Then, Pa wouldn’t have to gamble. Linton and the others didn’t seem like good men. Maybe that was just because of Linton’s ridiculously frightening scar. No. His tone and attitude toward my pa was nothing short of domineering and intimidating.
Rase entered the main tavern area and cut his way through the crowd, which had become somewhat easier the more times he had to do it. He now watched the people to see if they were showing signs of getting up instead of walking blindly.
At the same table as before, Pa, Linton, and the others including two newcomers were all there. Although they couldn’t’ have been there long, already four tankards needed to be filled. Rase did two and then two and then two more before he had a chance to linger for a bit.
“Luck isn’t with you tonight, is it?” Linton roared with laughter. His face was flushed. He had been drinking heavily.
Unlike Rase’s pa. He hadn’t had any to drink, and none had offered to buy him any.
According to Frieda, Rase’s pa needed to drink to gamble well, and slowly, Rase had an idea.
When he had next filled Linton’s tankard, Rase inched toward his pa.
“Go to the privy,” he said right in his pa’s ears so no one else would overhear. Despite customers drinking heavily, the amount of people remained fewer than the previous night, and so the overall noise in the room was not nearly deafening as before.
Rase straightened and unfortunately caught Linton’s eye. A sense of nerves overwhelmed Rase, and he ducked his head as he buried himself in work.
Or seemed to. Instead, he made his way to the privy. His pa joined him a moment later.
“What is this?” his pa asked grumpily.
Rase eyed his pa. All his life, Pa was a big, beefy man with thick arms, or so Rase had thought, but even his father was wasting away. His belt was tight, necessary to hold up his worn trousers. The knees were worn, around the ankles frayed, and the last inch or so of material was covered in dirt. Rase sniffed. And maybe horse manure too. Rase hadn’t noticed it the first night at the Jolly Snapdragon, but customers tracked in horse dung on the bottom of their shoes. Perhaps the enormous crowd yesterday had helped to mask the stench.
“What is it?” his pa grumbled. “I need to get back to it.” He eyed Rase suspiciously. “And you aren’t going to be telling your ma about this, are you?”
Rase lifted his chin and stared his pa in the eyes. “You’re doing your part. I’m doing mine.”
He shoved his pa into the privy where a full tankard was waiting. His pa exited a few moments later, his mouth glistening. Feeling victorious, Rase scampered inside to fetch empty tankard and returned to his task. At one point, he caught Frieda’s gaze. She blinked at him, and he bit his lower lip. He wasn’t sure if she would know about Maxene yet. Most likely not. He couldn’t forget that he was there for two reasons—his pa and Maxene.
His path didn’t cross with Frieda’s, though, so he couldn’t ask. Since he was helping with more tables that night, it took him nearly half an hour before he made his way back to his pa’s table.
Where Linton’s face was even redder than before, only it seemed he was angry rather than drunk.
Linton, for once, was silent, but when Rase gave him a full tankard, Linton snatched onto his wrist.
“I don’t know what is going on here between you two,” Linton said, his voice low and menacing, “but something isn’t right. Adair, you’re cheating.”
Rase wanted to try to squirm and wiggle free, but Linton’s grip was far too tight, so the boy didn’t even bother to try. He just gulped and forced himself not to look at his pa.
Out of the corner of Rase’s eyes, he saw his pa stand.
“I am a lot of things,” his pa said, his voice equally low but not threatening, more worn and tired, “but I am not a cheater. Go ahead. Check me. I have no cards on me. The dice is what you brought, not me.”
Linton nodded. His friends sitting beside Rase’s pa patted him down and then shook his heads.
Gritting his teeth, Linton yanked Rase close. He could smell the putrid stench of ale and vomit on the man’s breath.
“You told him what cards I was holdin’, didn’t ya?”
“My son…” Pa started before trailing off, realizing his mistake.
“Oh, ho, this is your son, is he?” Linton crowed. “Well, now, you can’t convince me otherwise. You two are cheatin’ and—”
“What is the meaning of this?” boomed an impossibly deep voice.
Rase jumped as much as he could given that Linton’s grip was like a vise. He could already feel bruises form on his wrist.
“Merle,” Linton said, a vindictive glint in his eyes, “this here man…” Linton turned and spat, his saliva somehow missing Rase’s bare feet.
With all of the dirt, manure, and spilled food caught in the rushes on the floor throughout the tavern, the spit wouldn’t have made Rase’s feet any dirtier.
“Adair?” Merle, Frieda’s pa, tried to cross his arms, but his muscles were too huge so his massive paws rested on his hips instead.
>
“Yes, Adair, he and his son here…” Linton jerked his head toward Rase.
Merle maneuvered himself forward to stand between Rase’s pa and one of Linton’s goons, almost pressing against the table. “My newest worker,” Merle said darkly.
Rase gulped. While he liked that Frieda’s pa knew about him and his role here, Rase did not like how this was shaping up at all.
Linton narrowed his eyes to small slits. His grip impossibly grew tighter, but Rase refused to cry out.
“I pay you a good amount every night,” Linton started, “and I would ‘reciate it if you would stop interrupting me.”
Merle said nothing, but he was clearly not amused.
Linton must’ve realized this because he cleared his throat and changed his tone slightly. “You see, the boys and I were all playing, and once again, Adair here was losing. He can’t ever have two good nights in a row, and he was up a little yesterday, but earlier, he was down. Way down. Like going to have to become my servant down to pay off his debt.”
Rase risked glancing at his pa. That couldn’t be true, could it? Become this pompous, arrogant man’s servant? Pa should’ve stopped gambling when he started to lose and never get to that point.
No wonder Ma would yell at Pa for gambling. The money from the farm must have been lost in gambling. It seemed that a lot of money could change hand with those cards and dice. Rase didn’t understand how it all worked, and he didn’t want to learn. It sounded like a dangerous game.
He glanced at Linton. The man’s scar was upraised, his scowl deep. He was dangerous himself, and Rase was fairly certain the man had at least a dagger on him.
Rase’s pa had no weapons on him. Rase was certain about that and not just because they had so few knives to cut any animals they might happen to kill for dinner. Linton’s men would’ve disarmed Pa if he had any weapons.
“Go on,” Merle said grimly, his gaze flickering to Rase’s pa, who stood calmly, chin raised, not quite defiant.