17

Remko stepped down from his CityWatch vehicle and started toward the small home. The house was similar to the others around it —single story, square; smooth, white outer walls; a light-brown roof with a steep pitch peaking in the center; manicured lawn stretching only five or six feet in each direction, ending in a simple wood fence on both sides. Remko had spent most of his childhood days rolling in the grass with his older brother, Ramses, or begging his mother and father to plant a thick oak tree so the two could climb it. His mother often had to drag him inside when the sun was fading from the sky.

His father had been a farmhand at Elken’s Farm not ten miles down the road. It hadn’t taken him long to ascend to a management position, working alongside Mr. Elken and his ownership team. Elken had loved Remko’s father for his firm but gracious hand with the other employees. Everyone held him in the highest esteem, but none more than Remko.

When he’d first heard that a tradesman enraged over a deal gone sour had killed his father, Remko’s response was utter disbelief. He couldn’t imagine a living soul with enough hate to actually harm the man everyone loved. His disbelief quickly shifted to anger and then sorrow. People said time would heal his wounds, but time only seemed to exacerbate his suffering.

His father hadn’t been dead a year when his mother followed. A withered body and worn soul had been her undoing. Neighbors whispered that she was weak for letting her own emotional pain manifest as a physical aliment and that she should have been thinking about her young boys. Remko and Ramses knew that she had tried, but losing the man she loved had left her broken.

Ramses was nineteen —coming of age and ready to begin his trade work at Elken’s Farm. A short year later Ramses chose and married Lesley, and Remko lived with the two of them until he was able to join the CityWatch four years later.

Remko knocked on the front door and waited only a moment before a lovely blonde woman with soft brown eyes and a sweet smile greeted him. She enveloped him in her arms, and Remko placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Lesley,” Remko said.

“It’s good to see you, Remko. Please come in.”

The patter of little feet sounded on the wooden floor and Remko saw the two tiny humans scurrying toward him. “Uncle Remko, Uncle Remko,” their voices sounded in unison. One flaunted bouncing yellow curls like her mother; the other had a mop of short, dark-brown hair like his father. Both children had blue eyes that were just their own.

Remko knelt and the twins jumped into his arms. He laughed and they giggled, their small hands clutching at his clothes as he lifted them both.

“Oh, you two will be the death of him,” Lesley said.

“No, Mother, Uncle Remko is super strong,” the tiny girl corrected.

“Of course he is, Nina; he’s a CityWatch guard. One day I’m going to be just like you,” the boy said.

“Will not,” Nina teased. “Tell him, Momma; tell Kane he has to get married.”

“Gross! I’m never getting married. That’s for sissies.”

“Kane,” his mother warned.

“Did I hear you call your father a sissy?” another voice called.

“He did, Father; I heard him,” Nina said.

“Did not, liar! I just don’t want to get married is all,” Kane shot back.

“Hello, Brother,” Remko said to the man who had just entered the room.

“I wish I had a brother,” Kane said under his breath.

Nina’s mouth fell open and she punched Kane in the arm.

“Father, did you see that?” Kane whined.

Remko chuckled to himself and put the two children down. Kane lurched forward to push Nina, but Remko held the small boy back. He looked up at Remko, his eyes pleading to let him seek revenge on his sister. Remko softly shook his head. “You want to be a Ci . . . Ci . . . a guard? Well, we nev . . . never hurt women.”

“She isn’t a woman; she’s my sister.”

“Nina Eleanor, what have I told you about hitting your brother?” Lesley said, grabbing the girl by her shoulder.

“He wished I was a boy!” Nina said.

“No excuse. Apologize,” Lesley instructed.

Nina bit her lip stubbornly and gave her mother a fierce look. Lesley changed her own expression and Nina knew it was more than she could take on. Defeated, Nina turned to Kane and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Kane weighed her words and then smiled triumphantly. He seemed pleased with the halfhearted apology.

“Now you two run out back and let your father and Uncle Remko catch up,” Lesley said.

“Oh, can’t we stay? We’ll be really quiet,” Kane said.

“No,” his mother replied. “Take your sister and go.”

Kane huffed, walked to his sister, and took her small hand in his own. “I can’t wait to be an adult.”

“Well, then you’ll have to get married,” Nina said as the two walked away hand in hand.

“Like I said, I’m never getting married.”

Lesley dropped her forehead into her hand and shook her head. “It’s never-ending with those two.”

Remko had thoroughly enjoyed the display and didn’t try to hide it as he followed his brother into the front sitting room. They sat and Lesley came in a couple moments later with a tray of refreshments. She set them down on the coffee table and Ramses smiled.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said.

“Oh, hush —of course I did. Remko doesn’t come very often anymore. I need to make sure he’s eating something home-cooked.”

Ramses stood and grabbed his wife, placed a kiss on her lips, and watched her as she left the room. Remko focused on the different snacks laid out before him and tried not to think of Carrington, which he found himself doing too much of the time. He grabbed a small sandwich and fingered it absently.

Remko imagined even if he’d had the chance to pick a bride, he wouldn’t have gotten as lucky as Ramses had with Lesley. Most married couples coexisted because it was their duty to God, the Authority, and their children. Divorce was forbidden. But Ramses and Lesley had actually fallen deeply in love over their early years of marriage. You could see it in the way they looked at each other with respect and grace, the way they let one another be individuals but also invested in their union. It was evident in the way Lesley cared for Ramses and in the way he protected her. It was enough to make any man jealous —especially one who would never have the chance to experience such feelings for himself.

Though the jealousy usually didn’t feel quite so pronounced as it did currently.

Remko swallowed another sandwich and pushed Carrington’s face from his mind. Thinking about her at all was flirting with danger —it was against the law, and even more so now that she was engaged. He didn’t like to admit how hard it had been to see her leaving Authority Knight’s home last night and to know the two of them soon would share it.

He would have liked to have avoided the entire interaction, but when Remko was given an order, he obeyed. Thankfully, Helms had requested to ride along; otherwise Remko would’ve been stuck suffering in silence with her sitting only inches away. He should have known Helms would try to stir up trouble. Remko was incredibly thankful that Carrington had handled it with such grace. Not that she handled anything without it.

“You are very preoccupied, Brother. What’s on your mind?” Ramses asked.

“Just enj . . . enjoying the qui . . . qui . . . the silence,” Remko said.

“No. Something is bothering you; your stutter always gets worse when your mind is filled with troubles.”

Remko drank slowly from the mug Lesley had brought him. It had always been hard to hide things from Ramses. Remko knew he could be honest with his brother; he just wasn’t sure he was ready to be honest with himself.

“Is it something with work? I overheard one of the farmhands saying that the CityWatch had found the dead body of a Lint out by the river.”

Remko shook his head. “We did, but the tra . . . trail is cold.”

Ramses studied Remko’s face. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

“I am strug . . . strug . . . struggling with my duty,” Remko said.

“That’s unlike you. How so?”

“I’ve never questioned the law or God, but . . . I find myself wish . . . wishing it were different.”

“It is never wrong to wonder, Remko, and it is important to remember that these are mere men who determine what is and is not legal.”

Remko expected such talk from his brother. Although Remko held fast to the way of the law, Ramses had always been much more of a free spirit. Too often, his intellect got the better of him and he criticized the Authority and its policies. Though he was smart enough to be mindful of his words outside his home and around his children, with Remko he never held back.

“Careful, Brother.” Remko was still a Guard member, and Ramses was bordering on treasonous language.

“Sometimes I don’t understand the deep loyalty you hold for the men who took away your choice for a different life.”

Remko didn’t respond. He, like everyone else, had moments of frustration with the Authority, but he also was convinced their rules helped protect their society and keep it safe. After the Ruining, the world had fallen into chaos and the founders of the Authority had saved hundreds of lives with the system they put in place. Besides, he found it much easier to live having reconciled himself to the immutable nature of his situation.

“It was God’s pl . . . plan,” Remko said.

“I wish you would come with me and Lesley to hear Aaron speak,” Ramses said.

Remko stood and turned to face the window behind him. He knew guards who had arrested men for speaking about Aaron in the streets, knew of men locked away in prison for months after being caught returning from one of the clandestine meetings. Remko turned a deaf ear to his brother’s comments but struggled to remain silent when Ramses was reckless about expressing himself.

“I know that you have your duty, and I know how the Authority feels about this man, but if you would just come and listen, Brother . . .”

“You couldn’t und . . . understand the danger y . . . y . . . you put yourself in.”

“A risk well worth it.”

“Ramses, please. . . .”

“I’m sorry; I know I’m putting you in a difficult position, but Aaron has given Lesley and me hope in a time when we believed hope was lost to us.”

“If you were caught —” Remko paused and turned back to his brother —“I cou . . . could not help you.”

Ramses nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

Remko looked into his older brother’s eyes and, without uttering a word, pleaded with him to be careful. His brother acknowledged his concern, but Remko couldn’t get the sense of dread to leave his chest.

“Now,” Ramses prompted, “you were telling me about a law you wished were different.”

As if Ramses had reached out and pushed a button, Remko’s mind jumped back to Carrington. He wanted to confide in his brother; he knew it would help lighten the burden he was carrying, but this was the kind of thing that would encourage his brother’s open rebellion, and that was something he couldn’t live with.

“It’s nothing; just wea . . . weariness,” Remko said.

Ramses sat deep in thought for a long moment, something clearly churning away behind his eyes. Remko ate the final sandwich and waited in the silence.

“Father would be so proud of you, I often think. More so of you than me —your loyalty to the people in this city and the leaders who sit above it; your loyalty as a brother and an uncle. But I wonder if he would worry about your happiness as I do.”

Remko locked eyes with his brother.

“All I ever wanted for you was happiness. I knew this would be your life, knew the CityWatch would become your home and that there was nothing I could do to change that. We live in a society where choice is a farce, and regardless of what I wished you could have, I knew there was nothing I could do to change your future. You know, after Mother’s death I used to sit in your room while you slept and imagine taking you away from this place. I dreamed up a world from our past where individuals had personal responsibility and control over their destinies. Sometimes I would get lost there and only the rising sun would remind me that it was a dream.”

Remko saw the pain in his brother’s eyes, felt the longing in his words. Ramses had never mentioned any of this to him before. Remko would be eternally grateful to his brother for taking care of him after their parents’ deaths, but he’d never given much thought to the amount of parental responsibility Ramses had actually taken on and carried all these years.

“The light is gone from your eyes, Brother,” Ramses said. “Your happiness has been drained.”

Remko wanted to argue that happiness wasn’t essential for him to be an excellent warrior, but he knew that would only give Ramses’s argument weight. Ramses blamed the Authority and the CityWatch for Remko’s dismal outlook, and he wasn’t wrong.

A single thought floated through Remko’s brain before he could stop it. He believed Carrington could make him happy.

Remko scolded himself and worked to keep the emotion from registering on his face. His responsibility and purpose had nothing to do with his personal happiness. His duty was to his people, to the job he had been assigned. He took pride in receiving high praise and respect for his skills. The light Ramses wanted to see was a luxury that Remko could not afford and therefore it had never mattered before.

“I’m fine, Ramses.”

“I believe you believe that, but you could have so much more.”

Before Remko could answer, the two giggling little monsters bounced into the room. The heavy mood lifted as both men greeted the children.

“Uncle Remko, Mother wanted to make sure you are staying for dinner,” Nina said.

“Oh, please, please stay,” Kane said.

“Yes, please, Uncle Remko,” Nina said.

Remko glanced at Ramses, who flashed him a look of surrender, and Remko knew Ramses would let the subject lie.

The two wide-smiling faces were a stronger form of manipulation than most tactical torture. Remko nodded and the two minions jumped up and down in excitement.

Lesley walked into the room and ordered the children to help set the table, and Ramses offered his hand as well. The four of them left the room, the twins chattering endlessly. For a moment Remko was alone and his brother’s words slithered past the stone wall of his resolve.

“You could have so much more.” Remko shook off the words and went to be with the family he did have.