Unleashed, page 24
“We left them everywhere.”
“Yes, but some neighborhoods you know better than others. Some the houses are closer together. Where did you leave the most?”
“The shipwright’s district,” Briar said, putting a calming hand on Hilary’s shoulder.
“Do you know it well?”
Briar shrugged. “My father was a shipbuilder. Hilary’s ran a shipping company. We practically grew up in those streets and alleys.”
Would it be enough? We had so little time. There was no opportunity for mistakes and regrouping.
“And if I lived in the shipwright’s district and believed in what you’d printed on the pamphlets, where would I go to find like-minded people?”
Hilary shook his head. “No one is allowed outside their house. Especially not now.”
“If you’re careful, you can come and go,” I said. “We’ve been doing it for days. Where would they go?”
Briar and Hilary considered each other. They listed a few names, but whether they were people or places I couldn’t say, and each time, the other shook their head.
Finally, Hilary said, “The Talon?”
Briar pursed his lips like he was weighing the thought before he said, “I don’t know what happened to Linden. He disappeared after the first fever. I assumed he’d left the city.”
“Who’s Linden?” George asked.
“A tavern keeper. The shipwright’s guild used to meet at the Talon, at least before the prince disbanded the guild system.”
“We’ll go there,” I said.
“We don’t even know if he’s there,” Briar said.
“He doesn’t need to be. We need some sympathetic supporters right now, and if the Talon is that sort of gathering place, it’s our best bet.”
Hilary and Briar led the way, with George and me following. The houses everywhere were silent, without even a candle in the window. There even seemed to be fewer guards tonight, like they were at the palace preparing for what was to come.
“I don’t want you to give up,” I said to George as we walked. She’d been markedly quiet since the announcement in the courtyard. “Whatever happens with Nel, don’t give up. We haven’t lost yet.”
She shook her head, the fabric of her veil swinging over her shoulders. “You saw it. They love him. Worse, they believe him. I don’t know how we overcome that.”
“If they feared him like they did the prince, it would be harder. Overcoming fear with love is a slow process. But love can be broken and trust betrayed in an instant. And the work to repair it once it’s damaged takes more than promises and speeches in the streets. Even now, the duke is scrambling. He has been since the moment Jeremy found you in the library. He wouldn’t have moved the children for months, and that mistake cost him. He’s trying to regain his position by executing Nel, but he can’t change that the children are gone.”
Her gaze flickered to mine, but her smile was still grim. Nel’s impending execution had shaken her, and I didn’t know how to tell her that my belief in our success was stronger now than it had ever been. Regardless of the mood in the courtyard, the balance had shifted as dozens of children had sailed away from the harbor. It might not have felt like it to George, but we had more of an advantage now than at any point since our arrival in the city. We simply had to press it until the duke’s control broke.
The Talon was a tavern as familiar as any. If we’d still been in Hilltop, I’d have expected Svi to emerge with his scarred smile and an offer he claimed was too good to pass up. Here, though, the facade was quiet, and we lingered in an alley across the way for nearly twenty minutes, waiting for patrols to pass and for any sign of life from the tavern, even a flick of a curtain or a puff of smoke from the chimney.
“What if no one is here?” George asked, but before I could answer, two dark shadows appeared at the end of the street. They moved quickly and soundlessly, glancing around like they were worried they might be watched. Two women, both in cloaks and veils. Without pausing, they passed the tavern’s front door and disappeared around the side of the building.
“That way,” I said, exiting the alley without waiting for a response from the others. I hurried after the women and managed to make it around the tavern in time to see them disappear inside.
“Wait.” Hilary put a hand on my shoulder as I rushed forward to follow them. When I spun, he raised his palms, and his expression was all apology for daring to touch me, but he stepped in front of me and said, “I’ll go first. They’ll be more likely to let us in if they see a familiar face.”
Still, when he knocked gently at the door, there was no immediate response, though whoever had let the women in couldn’t be very far away. But on the second knocking, a shuffling came from inside, and the door was opened a bare crack.
“Linden?” Hilary whispered.
“Wrong tavern. No one here by that name.” The voice was deep. The man attached to it couldn’t be seen against the darkness. But before the door could be shut again, Hilary put a hand out to catch it. He was still rewarded with his fingers pinched against the jamb, and his mouth twisted in a silent scream, but when the door opened to release him, it swung a little wider.
“Hilary?” the deep voice asked.
“Yes, man.” He swore as he swung his hand to fight the pain. “Who did you think it was?”
A pause. The shape beyond the door was as wide as it was tall, though the top of the man’s head might not even reach my nose.
“Who are the others?” he asked.
“They’re friends. You remember Briar.”
“This is all very interesting,” I said, “but maybe we can have this conversation inside?”
The man chuckled as he let us in. “I always knew that when you found a wife, she’d have to be someone who could keep you in your place.”
I growled at the insinuation and dropped my hood so that whoever this man was, he’d know exactly what I thought of the idea of marriage to Hilary.
The inside of the tavern was as dark as the outside, leaving only room for shadows, and only after everyone was inside and the door closed again did Linden light a single candle.
“This way,” he said. He was middle-aged, with salt-and-pepper hair clipped short all the way around his head. He was truly as wide as he was tall, with a rolling gate that only came from years at sea.
“I thought you left months ago,” Linden said to Hilary.
“I’d heard you died in the fever,” Hilary answered.
“I may have helped that rumor. The duke’s people were very interested in calling me up for not relinquishing the tavern when they asked.” He led us to a small storage room, then pulled open a hatch in the floor.
“Does everyone in this forsaken city have a secret room in the cellar?” I asked.
His teeth glinted in the candlelight. “Been having adventures, have you?”
I grimaced because the question made me think of Nel, who had been so set on having a great adventure. I hoped she knew we were coming.
The way down wasn’t as well built or as steady as it had been at Niall’s. I went down quickly, then motioned for George to follow. At the bottom, light flickered off roughly dug-out dirt walls, and the floor rose and fell unevenly as though it had been dug out quickly and possibly recently. Everyone might have a secret cellar room, but Niall’s was far more luxurious.
It had also been far emptier. George had only put one foot on the ground when I turned to take in our surroundings and found a dozen or so frightened faces looking at me. They crouched at the far end, mostly women of varying ages, though there were three men among them. Each eyed me suspiciously. I ran a hand over my unbound hair and did my best to look as unthreatening as possible.
“You found our message,” George said as she rushed past me. I reached for her, but she moved too quickly, hurrying to the first woman, who was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. I followed, and the surprised woman didn’t resist when George took it from her, spreading it wide to show the page we spent so much time printing and putting out into the city.
The Duke is Lying to You.
“This is your doing?” the man—Linden, I assumed—asked, coming to join us.
“Do you believe us?” George asked.
The air in the hidden room grew uneasy. The men and women assembled glanced among each other, everyone unwilling to say the words first.
“This is Princess Georgina,” I said, pushing George forward to stand in the middle of their small group. “The real Princess Georgina. She uncovered the duke’s plans.”
“Of course you are,” someone said with a sneer. “And I’m the king of Redmere.”
“It’s true,” Hilary said.
“The duke is selling your children,” George said, picking up the thread I had laid. “I heard him speaking to the ambassador from Divar. Their country had a blight, a real plague, and their women can’t have children. He’s taking children from Redmere and sending them to Divar for profit.”
“The children here are protected,” someone near the back said. “The duke said—” But the rest of her protest was quickly shushed by a neighbor. The silence resumed. They were all waiting for us to say something, to prove definitively that our truth was realer than the duke’s.
Linden was still behind us, and he said, “We heard the princess kidnapped children. That she’s been sailing with Captain Cinder since before the prince died, and that they’re the ones selling children.”
I put one hand on my belt, stopping short of gripping my knife.
“Considering that I am Captain Cinder, I can promise you that is very much not the case.”
The silence boiled into a flurry of frightened whispers. Captain Cinder. Watch your manners. Stay off the beach. Captain Cinder sails these waters.
George took my hand. “The duke’s story of what happened isn’t true. None of it is true.” She held up the page from the print shop like a banner. “This is the truth. He has lied since he arrived in the city. There was never any fever, and your children have never been safe.”
“Our children are safe right now,” one of the men said. “Two little babies asleep at home with my sister.” But his wife shook his hand, trying to quiet his protest.
“You wouldn’t be here if you truly thought that were the case,” Briar said. “You’d be asleep at home too.”
I said, “You wouldn’t have come if you didn’t think there was something wrong. You’ve known that something wasn’t right, haven’t you? The duke’s rule. The Listening Ceremonies.” It had been evident from the first moment I’d sailed into the harbor and seen the too-happy smiles on their faces. The false cheer in their voices. “When there are no more children, how long before he comes for you and sends you away to foreign countries as able workers? Before he stops using the Listening Ceremonies as a disguise and simply takes your little brothers and sisters to fill his own purse?”
We were asking so much. Even if they’d gathered here because they had doubts, changing minds to the point they were willing to take action needed time, and we didn’t have any to spare.
George said, “I know it’s frightening. I know the duke has given you safety of a sort when you’d never had any before. It must be hard to think about what it would be like if that were to go away.”
This had always been her great strength. Her kindness. Her empathy. In a world that had so many shadows, she would always look for the light and bring those who dared to follow along with her.
Slowly, the woman who had held the pamphlet said, “My sister’s family disappeared. Her husband was called up at a Listening Ceremony. He was sent to the dungeons, and she and her five children went to the Garden. They all died in the spring fever. Are you saying none of that is true?” As she finished speaking, her voice wobbled, and I couldn’t help but feel a little pity. We were shaking up everything she thought she knew. Certainty was always comforting, even when it brought nothing but grief.
George crouched in front of her, putting a hand on her knee. “I don’t know. We believe the duke has been using the fever to cover his actions. Whether it’s disease or some sort of poison, your sister and her husband have almost certainly died. The children . . . I can’t say for sure, but I believe they would have gone to Divar. They might still be alive.”
The woman wailed, burying her face in her hands. The two women closest to her tried to comfort her, but the others farther away began to shout their own questions. What about their own sisters? Nieces and nephews? What about the woman with six children who had lived in the house next to theirs? Everyone had lost someone, and suddenly, everyone hoped they might be found again.
“I don’t know,” George said, raising her hands to quiet their mounting agitation. “I can’t say anything for sure, except that the duke’s lies can’t go on, and the only people who can stop him are here in the city tonight.” She glanced at me, and I nodded. There would be no more waiting for support or for others to act.
“There’s a Listening Ceremony tomorrow,” I said. “The duke has blamed the woman he captured to hide his own crimes. He thinks she is Princess Georgina. In fact, she is as innocent as you and your children. But if no one intervenes and she dies, he’ll believe he’s won. This is your best opportunity.”
This time, the murmurs were less frightened, and my pulse picked up in response. It wouldn’t be perfect, but we might still win the day.
“Why are you telling us this?” Linden asked. He turned so he had his back to the rest of the people who had gathered in his tavern. The posture was one of silent support for the others in this room, and I couldn’t blame him. We were strangers. “You want to discredit the duke. You want the throne for yourself.”
“I want to save my friend,” George said. “And help create a Redmere where everyone can thrive, not only a powerful few who use their people as pawns.”
I waited, letting them judge her words. Anyone who knew her couldn’t disbelieve her. The truth was plainly written on her face. But these people in particular had every reason to be mistrustful.
Still, the woman at the front stood slowly. Her eyes still shone with tears, but her voice was steady again when she asked, “What do you want us to do?”
“Go home,” I said. “Go to the Listening Ceremony tomorrow as the duke commanded.” The words were met with confusion, and I continued. “But go angry. Go knowing the truth. When you return to the houses you’ve been forced to share, find the people you trust and let them know what you’ve heard. When the duke speaks his lies, tell him you know the truth.”
Linden chuckled. “Your wife is a dangerous woman, Hilary.”
Hilary’s answer was dry. “A woman like this is more than any man can handle.” His gaze drifted to George, and he said, “Both of them.”
It wasn’t forgiveness. Or at least, I wasn’t ready to forgive him. Not for what he’d said in the print shop cellar about George and me. But he knew which side of this fight he stood on, even if that meant standing with us, and that was enough for now.
“We aren’t asking you to fight,” I said. “Only to resist. Whatever he’s said today, the duke knows losing those children puts him at a disadvantage. It invites questions and doubt. Your presence here is proof of that. We’re only asking that you remind him of that and remind your friends there’s strength in numbers. The more of you who demand answers, the less he’ll be able to focus on any one of you.” And by extension, us. What I was really asking them for was a distraction. The time we so desperately needed to reach Nel and bring her to safety.
The people were talking among themselves now. They weren’t looking to us for guidance. They were sharing stories. The doubts they’d kept hidden until now. When the dam broke, they wouldn’t need more prompting from us.
“What do we do now?” Hilary asked me.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Nothing?” He sounded surprised. George was speaking animatedly with the three women closest to her. They were watching her with something like awe on their faces. One even dared to reach out a hand and touch the braid that had fallen over her shoulder, and her only answer was an encouraging smile. She was what they could be too if they bought into her vision of the future. I didn’t know if George was still relating the terrors she had seen in the city or if she’d gone on to share tales of our life beyond Redmere’s borders, but they listened with rapt attention, and that was all that mattered.
“We can’t lead them through the city in the name of glorious rebellion and save Nel at the same time. They’ll have to play their part alone. We can stay here tonight and keep them worked up enough that eventually they’ll have no choice but to go to the Listening Ceremony tomorrow and demand attention, but how it happens exactly is up to them.”
“You’ve done this before?” Hilary asked.
I shrugged. “Not quite like this.” Not with so little planning. Never out of the goodness of my own heart. Insurrections always paid well, and here I was, stirring one up for free. But if it worked, it might be enough to distract from the spectacle of the execution. It might be enough to make the duke anxious. Maybe he would rush the demonstration of his crumbling power. Maybe he would make a mistake. That was all we could hope for.
After another hour, the small crowd began to disperse, but their excitement and their anger went with them. Hopefully by the morning, their message would have carried so that it wasn’t only people whispering in secret rooms. When the questions were brought out into the daylight, they could be more powerful than any weapon. And they were aiming right at the duke.
We had to hope that, in the morning, the tip was sharp enough to do some damage.
23
GEORGE
Linden was able to provide us rooms above his tavern. I nearly wept at the sight of a bed after so many nights on the hard dirt in the print shop. We only had a few hours left before the sun rose, and I wanted to take every minute I could to rest. Yet I slept fitfully, itching to do something more, even though Lou said there was nothing now until the morning. Beside me, she snored and grumbled in her sleep like an old pig lying in the sun, and I envied her ability to turn off her thoughts. More than once, I jabbed her in the ribs and she rolled away, but each time, she came toward me again, like she needed to stay close to me and know I was safe, even in sleep. The snoring returned with her, and I resigned myself to it.
