The Crown Tower trc-1 Read online

  He took her by the shoulders, his long dirty fingers squeezing like bird’s claws. “Now I’m gonna tell ya what you’re gonna do, and you’re gonna do it. Understand?” He gave her a rough shake. “I want you to go wake Jollin up and get a room ready for them. Make up the little one, best not to have Stane in the one with the bloody spot. No sense giving him any ideas.”

  He pulled her back into the tavern and pushed her toward the stairs. She staggered into a table and chair. “And I don’t want to hear another word.” He raised a pointed finger. “Not … a … single … word.”

  Thud, thud, thud. Stane’s hammer pounded.

  When Gwen entered the girls’ room, they were all sleeping as close as puppies on the two mattresses lying on the floor. Work at the Head rarely started before sundown, so they napped during the day. Aside from Gwen, Jollin was the oldest. Rose was the youngest-fourteen, maybe, but Gwen never got a straight answer out of the girl, so she really didn’t know. Mae was the smallest, like a delicate bird, and Gwen always cringed when she saw the girl go upstairs with some of the big brutes who had to keep ducking even after entering the tavern. Etta, who had never been much of a looker, was now worse thanks to a smashed-in nose and two missing front teeth, the remains of a beating that had left her unconscious for a day and a half. She did most of the serving and cleaning chores around the Head. Christy and Abby could have been sisters, they looked so much alike, but Christy came from Cold Hollow and Abby was a native of Wayward Street. All of them had been born in Medford or one of the nearby villages or farms. None had traveled more than a couple of miles their whole lives-except Gwen-who had come from another world.

  Thud, thud, thud. “Almost done, Grue,” Stane shouted.

  Gwen had crossed a continent, traversing two nations and five kingdoms. She’d seen mountains, jungles, and great rivers. She’d stood in the capital of the east and the largest city in the west, but in all her travels, nothing had ever compared to the sight she’d seen in that tiny room where her dead mother had passed-what she had seen in the eyes of the man who had placed six gold coins in her hand.

  Wait until it’s absolutely necessary.

  “Get up! Get up, all of you.” She shook each of them. “Gather your things and hurry!”

  They rose slowly, stretching-cats now instead of puppies.

  “What’s going on?” Jollin asked, wiping her face and squinting at the light outside the windows.

  “We need to leave.”

  “Leave? What do you mean?” Jollin asked.

  “We can’t stay here anymore.”

  Jollin rolled her eyes. “Not again. Gwen, if you want to try and leave again, go.”

  “I can’t go alone. None of us can make it on our own, but together we just might survive.”

  “Survive where? Survive how?”

  “I have some money,” Gwen said.

  “We all have some money,” Christy said. “But it won’t be enough.”

  “No, I have real money.”

  “How much?” Abby asked.

  Gwen took a breath. “I have four gold coins.”

  “Bull!” Abby challenged.

  “Four gold?” Mae muttered. “That’s not possible. You could never save up that much, not if you slept with every man in Medford.”

  “I didn’t make it. It was given to me. I just didn’t know how best to spend it … until now.”

  Jollin was nodding. “I knew you had stashed some money away, but I never thought it was that much. Still, that isn’t enough.”

  “Then we’ll just have to make more,” Gwen said.

  “So what are you planning?” Abby asked.

  Gwen wasn’t-that was the problem. She hadn’t a clue. All she knew for certain was that she wasn’t going to end up like Avon, and to have any chance at survival, she couldn’t manage on her own. Maybe together they would stand a better chance. She went to the window, looking out at the muddy streets of the Lower Quarter. “I’ve got it all worked out-just trust me.”

  “No one will hire us,” Jollin told her. “A home wealthy enough to afford a girl would never employ one who has no letter of reference, even to scrub floors and empty chamber pots. And the guilds don’t take girls as apprentices.”

  “She’s right,” Etta said. “No one’s gonna hire me. Who’d want to look at my face each day? I don’t like looking at it myself.”

  “You know all this, Gwen. You tried and failed, remember? And have you forgotten about Hilda?”

  “Hilda tried it alone. So did I,” Gwen said. “That’s what we did wrong. If we all go together-”

  “Then we can keep each other company as we starve?”

  “Maybe if we went somewhere else,” Mae said. “A place where no one knows us.”

  Jollin shook her head. “They’re gonna want to know. Folks don’t hire people unless they know their past. We’d be strangers and no one is gonna hire a stranger over someone they’ve known for years.”

  “I watched my mother starve,” Rose said. “I won’t do that.”

  “No, leaving is just too risky,” Jollin concluded. “Even if we had enough means for food, we’d have no place to sleep but the street. How long before we were robbed and strangled too? Gwen, if we had any alternatives, do you think any of us would be here?”

  Gwen turned from the window. “But I have gold.”

  “That’s great, Gwen. Buy yourself a nice dress or something.” Jollin crawled back into the bed and reached for the covers.

  “But you don’t understand-”

  “I do understand. It’s you who keeps thinking there is somewhere better than this. Yeah, Grue can be a bastard, but there are plenty of things worse than him. Trust me. I know. As much as we hate it here, the truth is that if we leave, it’s almost certain we’ll die. You know this better than any of us.”

  Gwen nodded. “You’re right.” She slapped her arms against her sides and nodded again. “You’re absolutely right.”

  “What do you know? She can be reasoned with.”

  Jollin pulled the covers over her head and used a pillow to deafen the sound of the hammering.

  “Is that pounding keeping you awake?” Gwen asked. “Jollin, do you know what that is? That’s Stane fixing the door I busted.”

  “So?” She lowered the covers to peer at her.

  “So he’s got money, and Grue plans on letting him have you.”

  All the color drained from Jollin’s face. She slowly sat up. “Me?”

  “He’ll beat her to death,” Etta said with a lisp that made the word death sound like deaf, and coming from that busted mouth it was more than just words.

  “Yeah, he will, and she won’t be the last-unless we leave … now.”

  “But you almost died when you tried, and Hilda-”

  “Both Hilda and I made the same mistake … We tried to make it on our own. Plus Hilda only had a few coppers, so she was stranded on the street, and when I ran, I didn’t have my coins … They were hidden up here. With them we can get our own place-a safe place. So what if no one will hire us. Who cares! Grue makes good money from us, and Hilda had the right idea about keeping it all. We can start our own place. Individually none of us can survive-that’s what I didn’t understand-but together we have a chance. Certainly a better chance than hoping that Stane will lose his job or become a human being.”

  Gwen looked around and could see them weighing the possibilities.

  “Look, I’m going to get the money. Those who want to come with me, have your stuff packed, because if we are going to do this, it’s got to be now.”

  Gwen rushed out of the room, as much to avoid any questions as to leave before Stane finished. Truth was, the idea had only just come to her, and she was a long way from fitting all the pieces into place.

  Thud, thud, thud. Stane was on his knees hammering the pale new plank against the frame. He smiled at her. “I’m almost done here. Gonna have a little fun after I-”

  Gwen stepped into the little room across from hi
m and slammed the door behind her. She waited with her back against it, making sure he didn’t follow. She heard the scrape of a planer and guessed she was safe … for now. The little bedchamber didn’t have a bolt like the other room, which had always been a problem. She’d never checked the money in the daylight, and she wasn’t just checking this time.

  She crossed the room, dragged the table out of the way, and pried up the board, praying. That she had managed to keep them hidden for so long, right under Grue’s nose, had been a miracle. The men knew to pay Raynor directly, but some of the better ones tipped. It was never more than a copper or two, and Grue let them keep what was given. But he had no idea of the fortune she kept under the bedroom floor. Had he known, he would’ve killed her for them himself.

  The board popped up, and the bag was there. She’d sewn it from the sleeve that Gideon Hawk had torn off her dress the night he’d had eight drinks instead of the usual four. At last count she had had forty-five copper dins in addition to the four gold tenents. A weighty sum and more than just her life’s savings-it was a sacred treasure. She stuffed the pouch between her breasts and went back out.

  Stane was swinging the door open and closed, checking the clearance as she walked past. “Tell Jollin to brush her hair but leave it down.”

  When Gwen entered the bedroom, the girls were all up and waiting-every one of them.

  “Gwen,” Etta said, “I don’t know what in the kingdom you were thinking when you told us to pack our stuff-you know we ain’t got no stuff.”

  “Dear blessed Maribor, Gwen,” Jollin whispered. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Just follow me.”

  They were all barefoot. Grue never saw the point in shoes, but seven women descending the wooden steps were about as quiet as a runaway wagon.

  “What’s going on?” he said, coming out of the little storeroom near the kitchen, just as Gwen pulled open the door.

  She stopped short, pushing the rest of them out to the porch, where they stood confused. The cats had turned into ducklings and Gwen their reluctant mother, standing between them and a vicious dog. “I warned you. Now we’re leaving.”

  “God, you’re a stupid whore! I just got done telling ya-there’s no place for you to go. This is the only place any of ya have. But go on. You all go ahead and leave. Go wander around town awhile. When you get tired-when it’s dark and cold and you’re hungry-you’ll realize just how good you had it and will come right back. But know this: When you do, you’ll stop this nonsense and do as I say. Oh, and I’ll be getting the belt out again for causing so much trouble.”

  Gwen stepped outside and closed the door.

  Her hands were shaking and the tremor traveled the length of her body until she thought she might collapse right there on the porch.

  “Where are we going, Gwen?” Abby asked.

  “You don’t know, do you?” Jollin said.

  “You wouldn’t do that to us, would you?” Mae asked. “Get Raynor mad like that and not have someplace to go?”

  Rose touched Gwen on the arm, those big doe eyes focused on her. “Please tell us. Where are we going?”

  Gwen stood shivering, her back to the door. The sun was finally high enough to erase the shadows cast by The Hideous Head, and across from Wayward Street stood the dilapidated inn.

  “There.” Gwen pointed.

  “You’re crazy,” Jollin said.

  “Maybe.” Gwen nodded. “But it’s better than being dead.”

  CHAPTER 5

  MURDER ON THE BERNUM

  Thought something might have happened to you,”-Sebastian said the next morning as Hadrian stepped onto the deck. “Eugene tried your room, but your door was locked and you didn’t answer.”

  Hadrian glanced up at the sky. The sun was nearly overhead.

  They were all up and gathered in the middle of the boat again, except the fellow in the hood, who remained aloof and at that moment was nowhere to be seen. Vivian sat in the center of them, wearing Hadrian’s cloak and a pleasant smile.

  “I stayed up late. Must have slept in.” He sounded guilty, like a kid accused of laziness.

  “Well, I barely got a wink myself,” Sebastian said.

  “I don’t think any of us slept much,” Samuel added.

  Hadrian reached into a bucket hanging from the rail and caught enough water to wipe his face. He stretched and yawned. Waking up late always left him feeling tired and sluggish. He had spent most of the night with the door to his room open and an eye on the tiny corridor leading to the other cabins. He watched the lamp sway for hours but never saw anyone. Finally, as the sun came up, he had locked his door and crawled into bed, feeling foolish.

  Hadrian sat down next to Eugene. The youngest merchant had his hands fanned out and stared at them admiringly. His nails were ragged and dirty, so Hadrian guessed he was looking at his rings. With three on each hand, he had almost as many as Sebastian. Hadrian didn’t wear rings. He never saw the point. A wealthy warlord gave him one once, but Hadrian hadn’t liked the way it interfered with his grip, and he left it as a tip for a barmaid. He imagined that, being jewelers, the men with him had different opinions.

  Across from Hadrian, Vivian sat wrapped in his cloak. With her knees pulled up to her chest, she vanished within its folds. Hadrian had never liked the thin garment, what the Calians called a bisht. He had bought it from a zealous bazaar hawker in Dagastan just before boarding the ship to Avryn. Never good at bartering, Hadrian had spent more than was necessary. He’d done a lot of that while in the east, and the cloak was a physical reminder of his time in Calis. Still, it looked good on her.

  The barge continued upriver, stopping only to change horses and drivers and bring on a relief steersman so Farlan could sleep. The world around the Bernum had changed dramatically overnight. The river was narrower, more turbulent, and the banks had risen. Canyon walls cast the river in shadow, and the towpath transformed from a country lane into a narrow track that skirted cliffs where pines struggled to find purchase in thin soil, leaving roots exposed.

  This was the landscape of the north he remembered-mountains and ravines, snow and ice. So much had happened in the two years since he’d left. Beyond the cliffs were the lands of Warric, the kingdom just to the north of his childhood home. Old Clovis Ethelred had been the king. A cruel ruler, but then Hadrian had yet to meet another sort. Ethelred had built a fine army. Hadrian felt he possessed a particularly expert opinion on that subject, as he had both fought against and been a member of its ranks. That was how he knew the cliffs and canyons of the area; that was how he remembered them, as a young soldier driven through the crags and up the mountains, holding the high ground against the enemy who months before had been his friends.

  He chanced another glance at Vivian. When she returned his gaze, he quickly looked away, staring at the banks of the river, realizing too late that his sudden shift would be taken as an admission of guilt.

  “Do you know where you’ll be staying while in Colnora, Mr. Blackwater?” she asked.

  “I have no plans at present,” Hadrian admitted.

  “But you’re a soldier.” Eugene’s tone was dismissive and superior enough to irritate.

  “And you’re a merchant,” Hadrian said, although he was thinking of another word instead of merchant.

  Eugene smirked. “I meant you’ll be staying at some barracks, won’t you?”

  “Actually … I’m retired.”

  “Retired?” Sebastian chuckled. “You don’t look old enough to have done much more than enlist.”

  “And yet…” Hadrian smiled at them, spreading his hands out.

  “What are your plans, then?” Samuel said.

  Hadrian was beginning to see why the hooded man kept his distance. “Just traveling.”

  “To where?”

  “North.”

  “That’s a very big place. Anywhere in-”

  The boat bucked, glancing off a boulder. The tow cable went slack, then snapped taut again. Hadri
an looked back and noticed the lack of a steersman. “Where’s Farlan?”

  Sebastian tilted his head to peer around the others. “I don’t know.”

  They all got up, and Hadrian led the way to the rear of the boat, where they found no sign of the ship’s guide. Sebastian gestured to the rope looped around the tiller’s handle. “He does that when he needs a break, but he’s never gone long. Perhaps he’s preparing breakfast. It’s getting late.”

  Looking back, Hadrian saw the river, which had been relatively flat and straight for miles, was now becoming rife with boulders and starting to zigzag with the emergence of the high cliffs.

  He glanced toward the cabins. “After a bump like that, don’t you think he’d come up?”

  They all looked expectantly toward the door, but when it opened, it was the hooded man peering out. Still with hood up, he looked around, then without a word went back below.

  “Someone isn’t concerned,” Sebastian observed.

  “Has anyone seen Farlan today?” Hadrian asked.

  The three merchants and Vivian exchanged glances.

  “Now that you mention it … no. No, I haven’t. Anyone else?” Sebastian asked.

  They all shook their heads.

  “The relief steersman got off after supper last night, didn’t he?” Hadrian asked.

  “I believe so,” Sebastian replied. “When they traded out the horses.”

  “Is it possible that Farlan got off, too, and we didn’t notice?” Hadrian asked.

  “Maybe it was some kind of mistake,” Eugene said. “A scheduling error or something like that? Maybe the driver started hauling before Farlan got back on?”

  “I think Farlan would have told him to stop.”

  Sebastian said, “Flag the postilion.”

  Samuel whistled and Eugene waved until the driver halted the horses. Hadrian loosed the tiller and brought the barge over to the bank, where it was inclined to go anyway, being swept to shore by the current. The merchants conducted a search but failed to find the missing steersman. They all disembarked, even the hooded man, who observed from a distance.