Chapter 18

 

 

“I don’t suppose you want to tell us what’s about to happen?” said William. Her secrecy annoyed him, but he tried not to let it show.

“How should I know?” asked Rachel, staring him down. “If I knew what they were planning next, or even who they are, I’d tell you. All I know is some mysterious person with a hidden identity has disappeared without warning.”

“So now what?” asked William. “Do we go back to the inn, or—”

Maya raised her hand to interrupt. “Quiet for a second! Do you hear that?”

William strained his ears, holding his breath until he detected the faint sound. “An alarm bell!” he said. “But what for?”

“That bell is only ever rung for fires,” said Dan with a sense of urgency. “We need to get back and help.”

“Wait!” said Jack. “It could be a trap. Let’s stay out of sight until we know for sure.”

They headed back quickly, but carefully, keeping off the road as much as possible. By the time they neared the inn, the cries of “fire” were obvious. “It’s coming from the docks,” said Dan, the worry evident on his face. “Oh, please don’t let it be the inn! My family is in there!”

Several voices called out for help. “Fire at the docks!” someone yelled as they approached. “One of the boats is on fire. Bring buckets, pots, pans—anything. Put it out before it spreads!”

Maya froze, her eyes filled with terror. “Not again,” she whimpered. “Not another fire.”

Rachel put her arm around Maya’s shoulder and spoke softly. “It’ll be okay. Stay back if you want, but the sooner we put it out, the less chance someone gets injured.”

Maya nodded and took a slow, shuddering breath. “I’ll get set up at the inn. Bring the injured there.”

A chain of people ran from the dock to the river bank. Those by the bank filled the buckets and passed them up the line to be thrown onto the flames. The boat was large and fully engulfed in flame, so they focused on preventing the fire from spreading to the dock itself.

Someone yelled from the next dock. “Another boat on fire!” William’s head whipped around. Sure enough, flames had started rising from the adjacent boat.

“That’s no accident,” said Rachel. “That fire didn’t spread—the boats are too far apart.”

“Never mind that,” said William. “Let’s stop it before everything else goes up in flames.” He grabbed an old bailing bucket from a nearby rowboat and ran to the second boat. He could barely reach down to the water from the dock, but he managed to fill the bucket without dropping it. He tossed it onto the nearest flames, desperate to stop them from touching the wooden dock.

Others followed him, and soon a second chain was passing buckets of water, William among those tossing water onto the flames.

“I help,” said Clyde as he lifted off.

“No!” yelled William, but Clyde quickly disappeared into the darkness. William worried the dragon might make things worse, being a creature who naturally breathed fire, but Clyde surprised him. The dragon returned, flying slowly over the boat, spraying a billowing mist over the highest flames. The fire subsided slightly, and William urged him to do it again.

The fire fight went on for over an hour. By the end, William’s arms screamed with pain, and he could barely lift them to wipe the soot from his eyes. The frenzied action saved the docks, but both boats sunk before the flames were extinguished.

“That was a near thing,” said Dan as he pressed a damp rag to his face. “If one of those masts fell the wrong way, the fire could have spread even more. The inn, warehouses, other docks…it all could have been lost.”

“We were lucky, that’s for sure,” said Jack.

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” said Rachel. “Two boats catching fire separately, one after the other? This was done deliberately. Whoever did it wasn’t looking to destroy anything else, otherwise they would have set that on fire too. This was a distraction, and nothing else.”

William exchanged a glance with Jack. He couldn’t argue with her logic. “Distracting us from what, though?” he asked.

The dock began shaking under William’s feet before Rachel could answer. Charlie ran to them, rasping as he stopped and tried to catch his breath. “The boats are gone!” he said.

“We know, Charlie,” said William with a puzzled look. “They sank after the hulls burned through. It’ll be a job and a half to clear the wreckage, and they can’t moor any other boats there until they do.”

Charlie shook his head. “Not the merchant boats—the ones at the far dock.”

William’s jaw dropped. “The town’s boats? What do you mean ‘gone’? Were they burned too?”

“No,” said Charlie. “Just missing.”

“Well now we know what they were distracting us from,” said Jack. “How many are missing?”

Charlie held up three fingers, still too winded to speak much.

“King’s dirty socks,” said Jack. “Those could carry a hundred men or more. Have the rebels gone?”

“Why on Esper would they go?” asked William. “What would they gain by showing up, taking over, and then leaving?”

“Think it through, Will,” Jack insisted. “If it wasn’t for your deferral, you’d have paid your taxes a few days ago, right?”

William slapped his forehead. “The tax money. That’s what they came for. So this wasn’t a rebellion after all—they were just common thieves.”

“Ha!” said Rachel. “Nothing common about them. Someone had to move people into the right positions, maybe even get the wrong people moved out to make room for them. This required a lot of planning, a lot of time, and someone in a high position.”

They remained silent for a moment as they pondered the significance of Rachel’s comment. William broke the silence first. “Who?” he asked, looking directly at her.

“Could be anybody,” she answered as she quickly looked away. “Where’s Maya?”

Charlie pointed to the inn. “Patching a few burns.”

“How is she handling it?” asked Rachel.

“She seemed okay. I’m going back to check on her now.”

“What’s the deal with Maya and fire?” asked William as Charlie jogged away, the dock vibrating again under his pounding feet. “She’s fine around a campfire, and she even enjoys cooking, but she can’t treat burn patients without getting upset. When I burned my hands after Kaleb Antony tried to abduct me, she nearly had a breakdown.”

Rachel glanced at Jack for a moment before answering. “She doesn’t like to talk about it, and I don’t blame her. Years ago, when she was first learning medicine, a fire broke out at a glass mill. They’re supposed to be isolated, but this one was in a crowded area of town. Somehow, a furnace collapsed—one of its legs buckled and it spilled fire all over the wooden floor. The building caught fire and it spread to the grass, and then to other buildings. By the time the fires died out, over a dozen shops and homes were destroyed, and sixty people were rushed to the clinic. Several died horrible, painful deaths, right in front of her, despite her best efforts. I only know this because her mother told me; Maya doesn’t talk about that day, not to anyone. So, you can imagine how much she suffered at Rebel Falls when Antony’s men tried to burn the town. But she did her job. I should know, because I’d be dead if she hadn’t.”

Rachel turned on her heel and followed Charlie. William stared at her retreating figure, his stomach in knots. Once again, his ignorance had been made plain. That something so central to a friend’s well-being had escaped him for so long shamed him. He didn’t even need to ask Jack if he’d known; his reaction made it clear enough that he had. How could he spend so much time with someone and not know that sort of detail about them? Was he that blind? Or was he worse, like a milder version of Kirby, lacking decent human empathy? He turned to Jack. “What on Esper is wrong with me?”

Jack looked surprised. “Oh, come off it, Will. You heard what Rachel said. Maya doesn’t talk about it. How could you have known?”

“How did you know, then? Don’t bother denying that you did.”

Jack rolled his eyes at him. “Why would I deny it? Yes, I knew, but only because Rachel told me. I guessed before then, but I didn’t have a clue how bad it was, so stop worrying about it. People hide things, Will. They keep secrets because they don’t want other people to share their burdens. You’re used to people knowing about your pain, because your father died publicly, a hero’s death. No one should have to share that sort of pain unless they want to, but you never had the choice. But that doesn’t give you the right to know everyone else’s secrets. I heard you talking with Rachel before—you need to stop being so nosy. She’s got plenty of pain to keep private as well. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go check the horses. Someone might have let them loose when the fire started.”

They never reached the inn. As they left the dock, several riders arrived at a full gallop, their guard uniforms obvious even in the darkness. A crowd formed around them, drawing comfort from the presence of authority. One rider pulled a paper from his pocket and addressed the crowd in a deep, clear voice. “I’m Major Derek Bentsen of the Faywater Port Guard. I’m looking for the following people: Lord William Whitehall; Earl Hiram Doran or his son Jack; Maya Melchior; Dan Deacon.”

“I’m William Whitehall,” said William as he pushed through the crowd. “This is Jack Doran.”

“And who is that?” asked Bentsen, his eyes wide.

William followed the man’s gaze. “Oh! This is Clyde, my dragon.”

Bentsen grinned at him. “Duke Vincent wasn’t kidding about you, was he?”

“Huh? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Never mind, Lord William,” said Bentsen with a smirk. “Where are the others I mentioned?”

“Maya’s treating the wounded,” said Jack. “I’m not sure where Dan went, but the inn would be a good guess.”

“What happened here?” asked Bentsen as he scanned the smoldering wreckage.

“Someone set two merchant ships on fire,” said William. “Then stole three royal ships while everyone was fighting the fire.”

Bentsen stared back in shock. “Three! King’s knees…so we’re probably too late.”

“How did you get here at all?” asked Jack. “And why so few?”

“The six of us are the advance party. The rest are on foot an hour or two behind me. We have three hundred in total.”

“Three hundred!” said William. “How many are left in Faywater?”

Bentsen looked grim. “Too few for my liking, but Duke Vincent insisted, in part because of the letters you sent him and my detachment. You weren’t alone, however. Earl Bradford himself sent several messages as well, each more urgent than the one before. When the messages stopped, we assumed the worst, and your letter seemed to confirm our fears.”

They escorted Bentsen to the inn, where they met both Dan and Maya, as well as Rachel and Charlie. After brief introductions, he addressed the group. “As soon as the bulk of my company arrives, we’ll conduct a search of every building in Marshland, starting with the administration buildings. I’d like you to join us, one person per search party, to vouch for everyone we find, and to point out which buildings we should check first. I’d warn you all about possible violence, but your reputations suggest you can handle yourselves. Although, Lord William, I should ask where your sword is. It’s somewhat…legendary…among my men.”

“Stolen,” said William, his face darkening. “By someone I hope we find during the search, though I doubt we’ll be so lucky. No one has seen any rebels since I escaped, and the stolen ships suggest they’ve all left.”

“That would be unfortunate,” said Bentsen. “Not only for your sword, but because it will be next to impossible to capture them. These aren’t the sort of men we want running around free.”

Bentsen turned to Dan to arrange rooms for his officers, and William soon lost focus, buried in his own thoughts. What if the rebels got away? Where would they go next, and what would they do? And what was their purpose in the first place? Why would they simply occupy a town for a few weeks only to leave? The tax money made the most sense, but could that really be the whole reason for the occupation?

He decided it was Earl Bradford’s problem, not his. It bothered him that such a brazen crime might go unpunished, but he was satisfied his own lands were probably safe now, especially if the rebels fled by boat. They wouldn’t likely flee upstream, after all.

But he hadn’t come out of it without a loss. His sword was still gone. Kirby had it now, and would probably keep it, or possibly sell it for a small fortune.

Maybe he could ask Padma for another one. In the meantime, he needed to get away. Bentsen was a good man, that much was apparent, but he was loud, and William needed fresh air and quiet.

He knew where he had to go. Whether the rebels were gone or not, he could reach it safely in the darkness. In fact, he could probably reach it blindfolded.

He slipped away from the table while no one was watching. Not even Clyde saw him leave.