The Fecund's Melancholy Daughter - Brent Hayward [81]
“What kind of accident?”
“A tourist has died. The Black Arch, apparently, is now in need of repair.”
“The Black Arch.” The chatelaine looked disturbed, as if she felt a sudden chill. “What happened there?”
“Structural problems.” The chamberlain put his fingers together once more. His face had darkened. “Perhaps you have news of committees today? Bills of import to sign? Protection of the lizards that fly overhead? Or more additions to the plumbing?”
She sneered. “I do have important news to share, so hold your comments.”
The chamberlain and his officers had heard more than their share of news considered important to the chatelaine. They waited.
She said, “I’m ready for reform.”
He cleared his throat. “Reform?” he asked. “Reform of what? And to what?”
“Security, for one. Inside the halls of Jesthe. Inside Nowy Solum. As of today. As of now. I want your palatinate upstairs, in all the halls.” The chatelaine pursed her lips. “You were right all along, Erricus.”
The chamberlain lifted his eyes toward the gloom overhead. He said, “I have been a chamberlain without chambers. This auspicious day. We will turn this city around. We will navigate Nowy Solum from dark times.”
“Don’t lay it on so thick, Erricus.”
Now the chamberlain actually smiled; it was not a pleasant sight.
At the first opportunity, Tina bolted from Cadman and the neighbour; either her husband was too stunned or too preoccupied with his own dim thoughts, because he just watched open-mouthed as she vanished down the street. Possibly, Cadman knew that he would be unable to ever say anything appropriate to his wife about what had happened, and that he could never truly relate to a mother’s loss. He watched her go, and was quickly left behind.
The old neighbour, who had struggled all afternoon to keep up with the couple, was now starting to get seriously worried that the recent turn of events might mean his pint was in jeopardy. This would have severe impact upon the remainder of his day and upcoming night. His good mood had ebbed. He snarled. He had the shakes and was tired and thirsty. His swollen feet throbbed and, inside their cloth wrappings, they had begun to weep.
Moving through the streets of Nowy Solum, a fleeing woman, wild-eyed and on the verge of hysterics, was not an unusual sight. Tina headed unimpeded along the same route she had solemnly walked not so long ago, toward the centrum, not really expecting to see the kholic boy again, but at least wanting to be near the spot where she had seen him, needing to be on the move. One thing for certain, she was unable to ever return to her home or to the life she’d led until now. Thoughts of the tiny room she and Cadman shared—the smells of the street outside, the small pile of cotton swaddling for diapering, the thin mattress on the floor—made her stomach clench and her legs move even quicker.
Cadman was as good as dead to her.
Would he be okay? Soon enough, most likely. He would have his ale, and the neighbour for company, and the men from work. With his steady job at the mill and his fading looks and passive attitude—maintaining a constant state of either exhaustion or semi-drunkenness—he would find another woman to live in quiet unhappiness with. They might even try for another child—
Tina could have approached any kholic she saw—the tattooed, averted faces, toiling silently in the shadows of the city—and would be offered no stories of desperation, no revelations. Kholics accepted their rank in society. Maybe her son would, too? But Tina did not want that. She hoped her boy would grow up hating the palatinate and the city that had condemned him.
She pushed through a small crowd—a demonstration of some sort, lots of shouting—and from there across the street, slowing now, her breathing starting to regulate—
The kholic she sought was in the mouth of a narrow alley. He appeared to be touching the roof of a small house, pulling at it with both hands.
He did not see her approach. Without thinking, Tina grabbed the boy’s arm and he spun, eyes wide, his own hands lifted to ward