Chapter Four

This is chapter four of my work in progress, Independence. Read chapter three here or start from the beginning here.

If you’d like to follow along, please subscribe.

This isn’t the final draft, so if you have any feedback, leave a comment and I’ll consider it in my next revision.

Thanks so much,

Alex Rosenthal

Chapter Four

Lelia swirled the cold remnants of her tea in her cup, listening to temple bells ring out the hour. A full hour late now. She had to face the fact that her prince wasn’t coming.

She tossed the dregs into the fire and stood, smoothing out her dress. No use wasting any more time. She washed her cup with lye and the rest of the water from the kettle, then picked up an empty bucket and made the short trip out to fill it.

When she’d worked at the palace, aqueducts had brought water from far upriver directly to every building on the grounds. Now, she had to walk a few streets over to reach a well shared with half the docks.

Climbing the stairs to her front door, some part of her was sure her prince would be waiting for her, leaning against the door with that half smile he wore whenever she met his eyes, part content, part surprised. Her heart quickened when she found that someone was at her door.

But even from the back, she could tell it wasn’t him.

“Rusty!” She called quickening her pace up the stairs, “Bit early for you, isn’t it?”

Her brother Rastice turned with a yawn, running a hand through his reddish hair.

“Anything for family, Lels,” he said. “Even early mornings.”

She hesitated for a moment—their last conversation had been a heated argument—but she dropped the bucket on the landing and give him a hug. He felt too skinny, just bones under thick coat, but he returned the embrace with feeling. He smelled of woodsmoke from his late nights chatting by the fire.

“Missed you, Rust,” she said.

“Missed you too.”

“Want to come in?” She broke the embrace, keeping a hand on his arm.

“Only for a minute.” He picked up the water bucket. “I have a meeting. Just had to talk to you first.”

They sat at the table, and Rusty waived off a cup of tea. He fidgeted in his chair, bouncing his leg and looking around the room rather than meet her eyes for more than a glance.

“You aren’t just here to say hello,” Lelia said. “What do you want?”

His leg stilled, and he looked down at his hands, which clenched and unclenched in his lap. “I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have said…well, I went too far. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Not what she’d expected—her brother wasn’t likely to change his mind about her prince—but he was family. If he wanted to make peace, she wouldn’t say no.

“I should apologize too. None of what I did was meant to hurt you. I’m still here for you, Rusty. Like always.”

“I’m here for you too, Lels.” He met her eyes for a moment, then his gaze darted away again.

“Was there something else?”

His leg started bouncing again. “The Prince wants to talk to you.”

She should have known. Everything with Rusty was about the Prince these days. Not Lelia’s prince, of course. Rusty had his own.

“Why would he want that?”

“You lived at the palace for months, Lels. You know things. Know people. That could be very valuable to the cause.”

Lelia stopped herself from snapping at him. She didn’t want to start another fight. If helping out the Pauper Prince was what it took to keep them on speaking terms, wasn’t that worth it? She even mostly agreed with the Paupers’ cause, even if she didn’t like what it had done to her brother.

But there was always her other prince to consider. What would happen to Antony if the Paupers had their way?

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“You of all people--“ Rusty caught his own angry tone and stopped. He stood, straightening his coat. “Thank you. You do that. I’ll be by again soon.” He met her eyes one more time, this time holding them with a smile. “Good to see you, Lels.”

“You too, Rusty.”

He left. Lelia followed him out, watching him take the stairs at a near run and stride with purpose off into the morning.

She sighed, turning away to lock her door. She might as well head in to work. Tadia let her read in the back when she came in early.

The walk to Burning Bridge was short, but the staircase up to Tadia's shop was long, steep, and winding. The arch of the bridge was high enough to accommodate the huge river barges which ran all the way from the sea to the foothills, and its strong supports had struck some ingenious workmen as the ideal foundation for a three story complex of shops beneath the soaring span. Considering that Burning Bridge had been destroyed so many times that nobody even knew its original name any more, Lelia wasn’t sure building here had been wise, but the stairs here were the most direct path from the docks to the Lower Market, so a stream of every kind of person flowed constantly up and down, ripe to be tempted into all manor of shops.

Tadia’s shop was on the top level, just below the bridge. Lelia left the staircase and tromped down a wooden street. She passed a tavern, the herbalist where she bought tea, a carpenter. Tadia’s business was curiosities. The first time she’d passed it, Lelia had been immediately drawn by the display of books in the glass front window, but Tadia also sold jewelry, art… anything that might catch eyes.

She didn’t get as much business here as she might with a richer customer base up in the markets, but that didn’t matter. She made her money from other sources.

Lelia opened the door and turned immediately toward the bookshelves. She almost ran into a tall man in a sharp black suit. He gave her a smile, and gold flashed in his teeth. Another man followed, rougher. He held a cudgel in one scar-knuckled hand, and he tapped it against his leg as he walked. She stepped aside, letting the two men leave.

The one in the suit stopped in the doorway, turning back toward the counter where Tadia stood. She was a big woman, usually unflappable, but her face was tight with barely controlled emotion. Anger, or fear, Lelia wasn’t sure.

“Don’t make me come back now,” said the man. He raised his cane as if in a toast. It was polished black wood with gold on the handle.

Tadia gave no answer, but her mouth twisted into a slight grimace before she wiped it away.

The other man hit his club into his hand with a loud smack before the pair finally left.

“What was that about?” Lelia asked.

“Other side,” Tadia said.

Lelia nodded. She could have guessed as much. The ‘other side’ meant the piece of the business Lelia wanted no part of. The way Tadia made most of her money. She bought and sold stolen goods.

“Mind running the counter for a few minutes?” Tadia asked. “I need some air.”

“Sure,” Lelia said.

“Back soon,” Tadia said, before stepping into the back room. Lelia heard the shop’s rear door open and close as she took her place at the counter.

She shivered, though the shop was warm, a fire burning in the hearth. This was the first time the other side of the business had felt so threatening. Lelia hardly saw any of it. Occasionally someone would come in with a package, and Tadia would take them into the back room and shut the door. That was all. Lelia told herself that she wasn’t involved in any wrongdoing. She didn’t even know for sure what was happening. Meanwhile, the money was good. Tadia didn’t care about the business at the palace, and Lelia was making her way through the shop’s extensive collection of books. She was supposed to be copying them out, but Tadia didn’t mind if she read them first.

But if Tadia was in trouble with someone, what did that mean for Lelia? She didn’t want to get caught up in anything, or be used to get to Tadia. This was the palace all over again. She had gotten into something seeing the wonderful upside, but had been too naive to consider the dangers.

The shop door opened and a girl came in, walking with an awkward, limping gate. She looked a year or two younger than Lelia and a bit shorter, though she slouched enough that her exact height was difficult to tell, and she had the biggest birthmark on her face that Lelia had ever seen. It had a distinct pattern, like the feathered edge of a bird’s wing all across one cheek, starting on the tip of her nose and vanishing under the hair by her ear. It was livid purple, standing out sharp against her tanned skin.

The girl walked straight up to the counter, tilting her head to give Lelia a sidelong stare.

“I’m looking for Tadia.”

“She stepped out,” Lelia said. “She said she’ll be back soon. Is there something I can help you with?”

The girl frowned, then pulled something out of her pocket and laid it on the counter. “Yeah. I found this. Definitely worth something, but I’m not sure what it is. Any idea?”

The item was a polished wooden box a little smaller than Lelia’s fist.

“Look, there’s a keyhole on this side, but it just opens,” said the girl. She flipped open the top of the box, which rose up on hinges to reveal a tiny metal woman, with her arms raised as if dancing and a skirt flung wide around her.

“I don’t think it even locks,” said the girl.

“No,” Lelia said, excitement washing away her worries. “I’ve read about these, but I’ve never seen one. Can I have a closer look?”

The girl slid the box across the counter to her.

“What’s you name, by the way?” Lelia asked as she picked it up.

“Sparrow.”

“I’m Lelia.”

It took only a moment to find the key tucked into a slot in the inside of the box’s lid. Lelia pushed it into the keyhole and gave it a gentle turn. There was more resistance than in a normal lock, and she could feel a series of clicks as the mechanism inside wound.

“There we go,” she said, setting the box down. She released the key. Sparrow jumped as music clinked from the box. The sound was metallic, small somehow in a way more than volume, but it was unmistakeable. The tiny woman spun in a slow circle, her frozen dress seeming to billow out around her.

Lelia laughed with delight, and Sparrow cracked a wide-eyed smile.

“How does it do that?” Sparrow asked. She reached out a tentative hand toward the box, but before she could touch it, the music slowed, then stopped.

“Turn the key,” Lelia said.

Sparrow did, and the music played once more.

They listened in silence for a moment, watching the little dancer spin round and round until she finally clicked to a stop.

“I know that song,” Lelia said, trying to place it.

“Isn’t it the one about Lady Sleeper? The Lullaby?”

“That’s right! ” It was a simple song, only four notes. Lelia hadn’t heard it since her youngest sister was a baby, but the melody was clear even out of such a tiny box.

“So what is this thing?” Sparrow asked

“It’s called a music box,” Lelia said. “Works just like a clock, but instead of moving the hands around, it rings little bells in the base of the box. Really a marvel. Even Tadia doesn’t have one.”

“How much will she give me for it?” Sparrow asked.

Lelia considered. A pocket clock could go for as little as a Nywek. This would be more, certainly, but not by too much.

“Three Nyweks?” She guessed. “Or maybe she’d sell it for that and buy it for two. Ask her for four as an opener.”

Sparrow whistled. “Good, er, find.”

The back door creaked open, then thumped closed.

“Tadia,” Lelia called, “There’s someone here for you!”

Tadia emerged from the back with a wooden mug in hand. She’d paid a visit to the tavern down the street, and she looked better for it, much more relaxed than she’d been when she left. At the sight of Sparrow, though, her face tightened up again.

“Lelia, why don’t you go read something in the back. I’ll get you when I need you.”

Lelia gave Sparrow an encouraging smile, then retreated to the back room. She had left a book about philosophy on the desk back here. It was an interesting read, applying the seven virtues to government, but Lelia stayed by the door to eavesdrop. She hoped Sparrow got a good deal.

“Got something for you,” Sparrow began. “It’s clockwork. Called a Music Box. Five Nyweks and it’s yours.”

Lelia had to force down a laugh at that price. Sparrow may lack knowledge of the price of clockwork, but she certainly had confidence.

“Can’t do it,” Tadia said.

“Four then. It’s worth it. Listen to this.”

The music box began to play, but Tadia talked over it.

“It’s not the price. I can’t buy from you anymore, Sparrow.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Murretti came by not half an hour ago. Rancor’s monopolizing. I can either join up, or he’ll burn this place to the ground. I can only buy from his people now.”

Lelia leaned heavily against the wall. She’d been right to worry earlier. She didn’t know those names, but the point was clear enough.

When Sparrow spoke again, the confidence was gone from her voice.

“You could lie. Buy from me and tell them you turned me away.”

“I can’t risk it,” Tadia said. “I should already have kicked you out of here. Come back in a few months, maybe. Things will have settled down by then. But for now, their eyes are on me. I can’t help you.”

“I don’t have a few months,” Sparrow said. “It’s winter. I need a place to stay, a hot meal now and again. I don’t have the money for that. Please Tadia, just buy this for three or four Nyweks and you won’t see me again for a year. Gods, even two will do it. It’s not like I’m asking for charity, this is good value.”

“I can’t.”

“Then give me a name.” Sparrow’s voice was desperate now, breaking. Leather strained. Lelia could imagine her clutching at Tadia’s coat. “Please. You must know someone who’ll buy from me.”

“There’s no one.” Tadia sounded almost as bad as Sparrow. “The whole city’s in Rancor’s pocket. I’m sorry, Birdie. I wish I could, but it’s my livelihood on the line. Get out of my shop, and don’t come back.”

The bell on the front door jingled as it opened.

Lelia was out the back door before she heard it shut.