The August Five Part 13

A few blocks down the road, they came to a high stone wall. The lads stopped in front of a whitewashed gate secured with a large rusty padlock. While the others talked softly among themselves, Tommy peered at the faded wooden sign above the gate: Ash Street Garden.

"You're here to see a garden?" Tommy asked doubtfully.

"No, we're here to pay our respects," Dennett said sarcastically.

The wall was about six feet high. Dennett gave Kristoph a boost, and he pulled himself up and perched on top of the wall. After a few moments, he motioned for the other boys to follow. Bern and Dennett disappeared on the other side while Tommy waited on the street.

Soon, Bern's head reappeared above him. "Get up here, Tommy."

"Thanks, but I'll wait here," Tommy said.

"You're going to get jumped by thugs standing there by yourself," Bern pointed out. He leaned down and offered his hand. Tommy grabbed it, and Bern hoisted him to the top of the wall.

"Lose fifty honor points for breaking into a garden," he told Bern.

"Nah, it's gain fifty for not being a pansy coward," Bern replied.

Tommy hopped off the wall and into the garden. The moon had emerged from behind the clouds, and its pale light illuminated the open ground inside the walls, which was more expansive than he had expected. The high walls enclosed the entire block and there were no structures except greenhouses along one wall. They were dark inside, but in the light of the moon, Tommy could see the lush green growth through the misty panes of gla.s.s. It was winter, so the rest of the garden was barren, but the beds had been made in a spiral pattern with circular paths that wound toward a raised tier of earth. An elaborately carved wooden pillar marked the heart of the garden. Tommy wished he could see the garden in the heart of the growing season. It would be breathtaking.

Near the front gate, Kristoph inspected a vine-covered trellis. He grabbed one support and shook it. Then he pushed against it until the trellis crashed to the ground, splintering the delicate latticework. Nearby, Dennett picked up a rock that had been neatly laid along the edge of the garden bed. Someone had painted the rocks. Tommy could see the faded outlines of childish scrawls.

As Dennett reached back to throw the rock, Tommy realized what he was going to do. He ran forward, catching Dennett's arm.

"It's a garden," Tommy said. Dennett shook Tommy's arm off and moved to throw the rock again. This time, Tommy stepped in front of him.

"Move!" Dennett shouted.

"Seriously, these people don't have as much food as we do," Tommy said.

"Back off, Tommy," Bern called.

Dennett dropped his rock. Tommy glanced toward his brother and the next thing he knew, Dennett charged at him. Tommy was caught off guard, and Dennett easily shoved him to the ground. Tommy tried to get up, but Dennett kicked him in the ribs. Shocked by the pain in his ribs, Tommy doubled up on the ground and Dennett moved to kick him again.

"Easy," Bern said. He stepped in front of Tommy to block Dennett's next strike. "We're all friends here."

Tommy struggled to his feet, a sharp pain in his side. Kristoph left the destroyed trellis on the ground and stood beside Dennett.

"I don't like your brother, Bern," Kristoph said.

"What happened?" Dennett asked. "Did your mother s.h.a.g a cottager, and he came out?"

"How dare you-" Tommy began, but Bern clamped his hand on Tommy's forearm. His fingernails were like claws digging into his skin, and Tommy closed his mouth. Bern didn't even try to defend their mother and Tommy hated him for that.

Dennett bent down and picked up the rock. He moved to throw it again, this time making a dramatic show of it. He pulled his arm back in slow-motion as if taunting Tommy to try to stop him again. Tommy shook off his brother's arm, lunged forward, and caught Dennett's arm. Dennett dropped the rock, but Kristoph clobbered Tommy in the back of the head. Tommy stumbled around, unsteady on his feet. Before he regained his balance, Kristoph swung at him again, this time hitting him in the face. Tommy felt the skin of his cheek swell up, and his field of vision narrowed. His eye felt like it was burning on the inside.

"I'm not going to fight you," Tommy said, holding up his hands. "But it's stupid to destroy food."

Kristoph and Dennett moved to attack him again, but Bern grabbed Tommy's arm and dragged him away.

"I'm taking him back to Seminary," Bern said. "You two have your fun."

"Don't bring him next time, Sh.o.r.e," Dennett yelled.

Bern practically threw Tommy over the wall. Standing on the street, Tommy could hear the sound of shattering gla.s.s as the lads destroyed the greenhouses.

"That was c.r.a.p, Tommy," Bern said. "They come from important families. Find them tomorrow and make nice."

"No way," Tommy said.

"You're destroying your future in the Zunft," Bern said. "You'll be an outcast."

"I don't care anymore," Tommy said.

"Are you insane?" Bern said. "You might be in the Zunft Chamber with those two someday. You might work with them in the bureau or in the army, or whatever losers like you manage to do. Stop trying to fight what should be easy for you!"

"Maybe it shouldn't be so easy for you," Tommy said.

"You realize that this hurts Father," Bern said. "You're being incredibly selfish."

"You're calling me selfish?" Tommy asked. "Did you think about the people who depend on that garden for food? People like Mrs. Trueblood?"

"It's people like Mrs. Trueblood who are trying to take our land and kill us in the streets," Bern said.

"People are so hungry they're rioting," Tommy said. Images of Mast Square flashed through his mind. That hadn't been about bread, at least not directly. He wished Bern could have seen the panic and desperation in those people's eyes.

"Father is trying to fix that!" Bern shouted. "Everything he does, it's ultimately because he cares about us, and you're messing everything up."

"They insulted our mother, and you did nothing," Tommy said. "I'll never forgive you for that."

For the first time, Bern's bravado faltered. But then he scowled with anger. Expecting to be punched again, Tommy took a step back. Instead, his brother spoke with icy calm.

"By siding with the cottagers, you're the one who is betraying her memory, not me," Bern said. "Now get away from me."

"Happily," Tommy said, and turned to leave.

"Tommy?" Bern called. "When bad things happen to you from now on, just remember you deserve them all."

18.

VANDALISM AT ASH STREET GARDEN.

The greenhouses of East Ash Garden were destroyed in an early-morning act of vandalism. Nova James, the steward of the garden, says that more than thirty-five families receive most of their subsistence from the garden. "I expect the food shortages to be even worse," James said. "This is utterly senseless, a tragedy for the community." Ash Street Garden is asking for donations of plate gla.s.s. Please contact Nova James if you have information.

-JFA Bulletin, October 7 "Happy birthday! Fifty years young!"

It was Katherine Leahy's birthday, and the Plough and Sun was packed with well-wishers. The crowd cheered when Brian Leahy put his arm around his wife's waist and danced her around the table.

"She hasn't changed since the day I married her!" Brian called.

Katherine swatted her husband on the shoulder playfully. Brian gave his wife a bear hug, picked her up, and spun her in a circle. Tamsin held the kitchen door open, and Navid carefully carried in a lopsided two-layer cake with real frosting. Tamsin had traded some fresh vegetables for the sugar, which was impossible to afford at any Zunft markets and unavailable at the bookless shops.

"Cake for everyone!" Navid called, and people cheered even though there wouldn't be nearly enough for all the patrons. So the children crowded around, and Tamsin cut slivers while Navid pa.s.sed them out. Soon the cake was gone, but no one seemed to mind. Tilo Locke and his band set up near the fireplace. Everyone moved the tables out of the way, and even though the dance floor was triple its normal size, it was jammed with dancers.

Tamsin was about to head back into the kitchen when Gavin sidled up to her. He looked so sheepish that she wanted to laugh.

"What's on your mind, sir?" she jested although she had a pretty good idea.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked.

"I need to get to the dishes," she said.

"No, you don't," Katherine said. She had appeared out of nowhere at Tamsin's elbow. "Go dance. Have fun."

"What do you think, Miss Henry?" Gavin asked.

"Why not?" she said. He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. The band was playing a slow dance, and Gavin put his hands awkwardly on Tamsin's waist. She hadn't seen him since she'd visited her father in the compound and she wasn't going to tell him that Michael Henry had called him a traitor. But she was afraid he would want to talk about it. Sure enough, when he opened his mouth, he asked, "How was the visit with your father?"

Tamsin chewed on her lip. Gavin was tall enough that he couldn't see her face unless she lifted her chin. So she stared at the b.u.t.tons on his spotless white s.h.i.+rt instead. They were barely moving to the music, and Tamsin could feel the eyes of the dancers watching them curiously.

"Tamsin?" Gavin asked. "Are you all right?"

Take up my sword, daughter. Don't let me die in vain.

She was saved from answering when the song ended and the band began a quick jig. The dancers formed into small circle dances and there wasn't any more time for talking. The jigs continued for a good half hour, and Tamsin forgot about everything else but the dance. After a particularly fast song, everyone was out of breath and the set ended. She glanced at Gavin, and his eyes were on her, too. She hadn't expected her father's feelings about Gavin to affect her, but she realized she felt different about her friend. Michael Henry hated him. How was she supposed to feel?

Before he could say anything to her, the sound of a lone pennywhistle quieted everyone in the pub. It was the beginning of a familiar tune that dated back to the War for Aeren. Tilo began to sing in his beautiful tenor voice. He sang about green fields stained with the blood of the innocents, and the heart of Aeren, broken in battle. Everyone stopped dancing and stood in reverent silence.

When the song ended, Mr. Leahy climbed up on a bar stool. The top of his head brushed the rafters. He raised his gla.s.s, and everyone looked at him expectantly.

"To the ones we lost," he said somberly, and everyone in the room raised a gla.s.s or a hand in memory of the fallen.

"To the ones they have taken from us," he said. "To Brandon and Kevin."

"Brandon and Kevin," echoed the crowd.

"To Jack and Hector," Mr. Leahy said, raising his voice even louder.

"Jack and Hector," the crowd echoed again.

Across the dance floor, Tamsin glimpsed Hector's young wife, Adele, with her arms tight around their seven-year-old daughter, Marina. Tears were streaming down both their faces.

"To Michael Henry!" Mr. Leahy shouted.

The crowd exploded with whistles and shouts of support, but all Tamsin could think about was the fury in her father's eyes when he told her to take up his sword. She had the urge to flee the crowd, but at the same time she didn't want to be alone. Tamsin grabbed Gavin's hand and pulled him out of the pub, through the kitchen and outside, into the back alley. She took deep breaths of cold air while Gavin watched her with concern and confusion. They weren't wearing their coats, and Tamsin was s.h.i.+vering uncontrollably. She regretted bringing Gavin with her. She wasn't sure how she felt about him anymore.

"Is it really so late?" Tamsin asked. It was a cloudless, windy night. The air felt cleaner than usual and the stars were almost as bright as they were on Aeren. "I think dancing with you is the first time I've lost track of time since I came here."

"Are you angry with me?" Gavin asked. "It seems like since you went to see your father, you've been avoiding me."

"I haven't written the treatise for you yet," Tamsin lied. "I feel badly for letting you down."

"Oh," Gavin said. She could tell that he didn't believe her. They s.h.i.+vered without speaking for a while, and she thought he'd let the issue go. But then he spoke again. "That doesn't make a lot of sense, Tamsin. I'd rather you be honest with me than tell me something you think I want to hear."

Tamsin couldn't bring herself to tell Gavin that her father hated him. Or how her father expected her to take up his mantle and crush the Zunft in his name. She couldn't bring herself to talk about Michael Henry and how the weeks in prison had grayed his hair and softened his jawline. Instead, she decided to share an idea that had been fermenting in her mind since the night she met Tommy Sh.o.r.e.

"I met someone at the Estoria the other night," Tamsin said. "I met Tommy Sh.o.r.e, one of the sons of the chief administrator himself."

Gavin didn't say anything for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "I don't think you should work there anymore," he said. "I'm sorry to be so direct, but I don't."

"He doesn't know who I am, but he knows I'm from Aeren," Tamsin said. "I told him to come here sometime, asking for Emilie."

"Why would you do that?" Gavin sounded incredulous.

Tamsin took a deep breath. She knew what she was about to say would sound atrocious to Gavin. It had started as a germ of an idea after she met Tommy, but it had grown hour by hour until she could hardly think about anything else. She had run through scores of scenarios in her mind, but none of them could help her father. Then she formulated this plan, and though it was cold-hearted, she believed that it was the only thing that would work.

"We could make a trade," Tamsin said. "Him for Papa. And Jack and the others."

Gavin took a step backward and stared at her, and his silence was terrible. Part of her wanted to take the words back and reverse time. Another part of her felt defiant and proud that she'd shocked him. She knew that her father would be proud of her. It was a plan he would appreciate even if Gavin did not.

"You're talking about a human being, Tamsin," he said. "It doesn't matter who his father is. He has the same rights as every other human being."

"We wouldn't have to hurt him!" Tamsin said. Unless they hurt Papa.

"But you'd consider it?" Gavin asked. "It's something you would actually entertain?"

"Nothing else will save Papa," Tamsin said. "They're lying about his involvement with Hywel, and he's going to die for it."

"He's facing a charge of treason for the August Rising," Gavin said.

"We rose up against an unjust system!" Tamsin cried. "We rose up against people who treat us like slaves!"

"I want nothing to do with violence," Gavin said. "I want change as much as you do, but I will not be a part of this."

"Why do we always have to be weak?" Tamsin demanded. "Why not do the things that will make us as strong as them?"

"You're putting your life at risk," Gavin said. "You're putting your mother and sisters at risk even talking about this. Is this who you want to be?"

"You tell me another way to be then," she said. "A way that isn't powerless. A way that actually changes things!"

"I never said I had all the answers," Gavin said. "But I know that subjecting another human to violence is wrong. I would rather die than hurt someone else."

"You only say that because you're not in jail, too," Tamsin said. She was so angry she could barely see straight. "You were too much of a coward to put your life on the line."