Chapter 24 Window

They say that my great-grandmother embodied everything that we have been engineered to be. When you meet my father you’ll see he has a scar almost the full length of his left side from the time she was angry because he tore off both arms of a novitiate for himself. Great-grandmother wanted them. I never actually met her, though, because her duty was to impart compassion to Holy King Tiernan when he was the Chosen. – Prince Eater #34

PRESENT DAY: SNAKEIN

Craig reminisced calmly, “She sure was a devoted horse. That day she earned an easy rest for the remainder of her life. I’m glad we were able to give it to her.”

“Yes, I am, too,” Kenzie agreed softly. She moved closer to her husband, and both were quiet for a few minutes, thinking about the old chestnut mare. “Whatever happened to the brooch Harrison gave you? I know he intended for you to sell it, but I never asked what you did with it.”

“It bought all of this,” Craig declared, indicating the building around them. “A jeweler here in SnakeIn disassembled it, sold the precious stones, and then melted down the gold.”

“Harrison’s gift bought all of this,” Kenzie said incredulously.

“Almost,” Craig corrected. He gently turned her head with one of his hands until they were eye to eye, and he continued, “It didn’t buy my love for you. I know Ciaran was your first and truest love. I don’t resent that. He was also my best friend. It’s an honor to be able to care for you and Rory since he couldn’t do it himself. But, still, when it’s all said and done, at the beginning and end of every single day, I love you, Kenzie.”

Once again, tears streamed down her face, and she held on to her husband as desperately as her arms and her life could hold someone else.

Alec sat on the edge of Jon’s bed sorting through the clothes while Erienne returned to knitting by the fire, and Jon rested in the other upholstered chair awake but with his eyes closed. Seán sat on the bed, his knees under the covers but drawn up with his arms wrapped around his legs.

“How about these?” Alec asked, holding up a pair of trousers and a pair of boy’s small clothes.

“They look too big,” Seán responded. Alec tossed those items and a shirt to him and Seán exclaimed in disbelief, “Here? In front of everyone!”

“Here or over there by our cots,” Alec said, gesturing. “We need to get some better clothes on you and try to get back to normal.”

“But everyone will see,” Seán argued. He thrust his chin toward Erienne. “She’ll see.”

“I’ll turn my head and close my eyes,” Erienne offered before Alec could tell the boy that he was being silly. “I won’t open them until you tell me you’re decent.”

“Well?” Alec asked, lifting an interrogative eyebrow.

“Can you wait outside the door?” Seán responded. Erienne laughed and then did as directed while Jon fought back a smirk, and Alec helped the boy fold the covers back so Seán could stand. The small clothes fit well, but the trousers and shirt were too roomy. Alec rummaged through the pile a little further and was rewarded with a belt. He threaded it through the loops in the back where Seán couldn’t reach easily, and let the boy buckle it himself. Seán arranged the shirt, lifted the front, tugged on the belt again to test how securely it was fastened, and then dropped the shirt and called out, “You can come back in now.”

As Erienne walked back to her chair, she commented, “You look very handsome in those clothes, Seán.”

The boy blushed, wiggled his toes, and then said as if trying to shock Erienne, “My feet are still naked.”

“You can wear a pair of my socks,” Alec said helpfully as Erienne laughed. “They'll be too large, so you’ll have to roll them, but I don’t want you getting sick because your feet are cold. I’ll buy you socks tomorrow, and find a cobbler who can make you shoes.” Sensing that Jon had shifted his weight as if to object, Alec added reassuringly, “I’ve got enough in my savings.”

The boy followed Alec to where their cots were set up and waited while Alex searched his duffle bag to retrieve socks.

“Alec,” the boy whispered as he took the foot coverings. “How long will we have to live here? It’s really little.”

“It is,” Alex agreed. “But we’ll have to make do and be extra careful to be nice to each other. Your Uncle Tom and Aunt Annie are generous enough to pay for us to live here so that we’re not on the street.”

“Do I have an Uncle Tom and Aunt Annie?”

“Do you remember people talking about Princess Tatiana?” The boy nodded his head. “That’s your Aunt Annie. Never, never call her a princess. It isn’t safe.”

“Are those men after her, too?”

“Maybe. But there are others, too. We have to take care of each other. It’s up to us.”

“Alec,” the boy said, still whispering.

“Yes?”

“I’m still frightened.”

“We’re frightened, too. We just do the best we can to look inside ourselves for courage.”

Alec let one arm drape across the boy’s shoulders companionably as they strolled the few steps back to the others where he resumed sorting and folding the clothes from Kenzie. The door burst open, and Tom Jarek raced in, shouting, “Where? Tell me where!”

Fia leaped up from the middle of the floor to bounce at Tom, but Erienne latched onto her collar, saying, “It’s okay, Fia. Down.”

The dog moved closer to Jon and then obediently sat.

“It’s all right. Fia won’t bother you. Come on in,” Alec said to Tom. “Seán, this is your Uncle Tom.”

Jon started to rise. His arm hurt as he did, so he sank back into the chair.

“Seán?” Tom asked, sounding more confused. “No one said anything about it being Prince Seán. Just that you rescued a young boy who was trafficked.” He strode across the small room and studied Seán urgently. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said shyly as he edged behind Alec for protection.

Tom looked around frantically and then pointed at the curtain separating Erienne’s private changing space from the rest of the small chamber. “Quick. Hide over there. Craig is trying to stall them, but they will be here any minute. The dog, too. Hide.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Alec hurried Seán behind the curtain as Erienne tugged Fia by the collar to the cot and told her to stay. Once the two were hidden, Alec snapped the cloth closed and then stepped back into the center of the room.

Without stopping to knock, Annie walked into the room accompanied by Padraig MacGavin and the less obese procurer. Padraig nodded slightly at Alec in acknowledgment, and then said to the procurer, “Is this the man who attacked you?”

“Yes,” the procurer insisted. “For no reason at all. My colleague was so badly hurt that he fell from the wagon and died.”

Jon quietly waved to Erienne to get his medications from the table. She picked up the blue vial, but he shook his head, so she brought him the red jar. Opening it while the procurer was expounding to Padraig, Jon dipped his fingers into the ointment and then smeared wide swathes of it sloppily across his face. The eye-watering stink of the medication wafted strongly through the room. When the procurer began to sneeze and choke, Jon cleared his throat loudly. The procurer turned toward the sound and noticed him for the first time. Jon’s leg was propped on the footstool, and the unsightly ointment dribbled down his neck and chin. Erienne remained at his side but realizing that Jon wanted the startling effect, she made no effort to wipe the mess from his face. Jon smiled insincerely.

“You see, the thing is,” the Commander of the Armed Watch said. “This inn is known for catering to patrons of, shall we say, a higher caliber. Even if they are strapped financially, as these gentlemen seem to be, they are still, at their core, gentlemen. It is difficult for me to visualize a scenario that would cause the man you are accusing to go berserk and attack you for no reason.”

“I agree,” Annie chimed in as she stepped forward. “I can’t see him hurting anyone without good cause.”

“Well, that’s just what happened,” the procurer insisted. “The universe alone knows why.”

“I can tell you why,” Jon interjected.

Annie took another step forward and said, “Sir, please let me introduce my brother, Jon Holdingfree. He and Alec are new residents of SnakeIn that Tom and I have been helping out.”

“You’re badly hurt, Mr. Holdingfree,” the procurer said, sounding sympathetic to Jon’s injuries. “Your friend went crackers with me. He probably did the same with you.”

“My husband is not a violent man,” Jon said, enunciating clearly. “He attacked you because you stripped a young boy naked and were auctioning him to a crowd of brothel owners.”

“Brothels aren’t illegal in SnakeIn,” the procurer countered indignantly. “And everyone has different tastes. I admit that I was misled, but how were we supposed to know that he wasn’t who we were told?”

“You purchased a young boy under fraudulent circumstances?” Padraig asked from where he stood at the procurer’s back.

“That’s right,” the procurer said. “Gunnar lied to us. All this man had to do was state his claim and we would have surrendered the boy peacefully. After he reimbursed us our money, of course.”

“I called out to you as soon as I saw him,” Alec said, struggling to keep his anger in check. “You told the wagon driver to leave. You didn’t make any effort at all to discuss the situation.”

“The way you acted I –” the procurer began before Padraig interrupted him.

“Hold on. Hold on, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” the commander said. “You mentioned you purchased the boy from Gunnar. Would that have been Prince Gunnar?

“Yes, it was,” the procurer affirmed proudly. “You’d think a Prince of the Realm would be trustworthy. He told us it was his brother...”

The procurer’s words trailed off as he realized that he had incriminated himself.

“You tried to purchase one of Holy King Harrison’s sons?” Padraig demanded harshly.

“Well…ah…I…We…that…is….” the procurer stammered.

“Which brother?” Padraig asked.

The procurer’s lips moved as he swore, but no sound came from his mouth. He looked at the rafters. He glanced at the door. He squinted at the one small window. His lips moved again, and then he cleared his throat and said, “Gunnar claimed that he was his younger brother, Prince Seán.”

The curtain dividing Erienne’s space bulged outward and then fell back into place without opening.

“I am arresting you, sir,” Padraig declared. “You’ve given me no choice. You’ve admitted to purchasing and endangering one of the princes. We aren’t necessarily fond of the monarchy here in SnakeIn, but the law is the law. Furthermore, you’ve admitted to knowing that the purchase was fraudulent. I have to charge you accordingly. Brothels are not illegal. Purchasing a worker’s contract is not illegal. Slavery, fraud, and endangering the life of a member of the royal family are.”

“You tricked me into perjuring myself!” the procurer said. “I’m filing a complaint against you to the Contingent.”

“The Commander of the Armed Watch is well known to us,” Annie said evenly. “So, please feel free to lodge a complaint. I am First Contingent. If you wish to include me in the complaint, please do so. The Contingent, however, will find your complaint invalid.”

“Of course, you’d say so,” the procurer snapped. “You’ve already admitted that one of them is your brother. And he says his name is Holdingfree. Why? What’s he hiding?”

“Your questions are impertinent. Mr. Holdingfree isn’t the one under arrest, and he isn’t going to be,” the Commander of the Armed Watch reprimanded. “Let’s go.” When the procurer stared at the commander without moving, the officer walked to the door, whistled sharply down the stairwell, and asked, “Do I have to tie your hands, Sir?”

Armed Watchers Lynch and Logan appeared in the doorway. The procurer sighed and trudged defeatedly from the attic room. The two fell into step behind him, and Padraig said, “Tom, Annie, always a pleasure.” He looked directly at Jon and said amiably, “It’s good to see you up and about. You’re looking much better than the first time we met.”

“Thank you,” Jon said as he wiped some of the red goo from his chin. Erienne extracted a rag from her pocket and began to help clean him.

As Seán and Fia came out from behind the curtain, the sound of a scuffle, and then a scream from the stairwell sent them running from the chambers. Armed Watchers Lynch and Logan were standing on the third-floor landing and the window used to air the stairwell was wide open.

“I didn’t see what happened, Commander,” Armed Watcher Lynch said. “We were talking, and I’d just turned my head to say something.”

“Same here,” Armed Watcher Logan agreed, as he pulled his head in from examining where the procurer’s body lay on the ground below the window. The sleeve of his jacket was torn loose at one shoulder and deep gouges ran down the side of his face. “I had just turned my head to listen. He must have caught his heel on something and went straight out the window.”

“Defenestrated himself,” Watcher Lynch commented, shaking his head for emphasis as he gently touched a bruise swelling his jaw. “Hard to believe that he’d go straight out the window, headfirst, like that.”

“Doesn’t seem like he’s in very good shape to be running up and down all these stairs,” Watcher Logan pointed out as he retrieved a clean, white handkerchief to dab at his bloody face. He looked beyond Padraig, Tom, Annie, and Seán to where Jon stood with Alec supporting him. “Jon! Be careful on these stairs. I guess they’re more dangerous than they look.”

“Honestly, don’t you have a jacket in better shape than that one? It’s a disgrace,” Padraig commented as he nonchalantly tried to pull Watcher Logan’s torn sleeve together with his fingers. “This sounds like an accident. Life and death are often beyond our control. One of you let the morgue know, and then both of you have a healer fix up your faces. Can’t have the good citizens of SnakeIn thinking the Armed Watch goes around looking like the two of you.” Armed Watcher Lynch darted down the stairs and out the door. The commander turned and held out his hand, “It was good to see you again, Alec. If we can be of service to you in the future, don’t hesitate to get in touch.”

With that, Padraig and Armed Watcher Logan sauntered down the stairs to where the body lay. There were only two people in the street — one was the large delivery man with a bench resting on his shoulder. The other was a youth leaning idly against the inn wall. Padraig spoke with the youth, verified that he was sixteen years old, and therefore old enough to accept work, and then paid him to wait for the wagon from the morgue so that he and Watcher Logan could get on with their evening. Prince Gunnar smiled, saluted the commander nonchalantly with two fingers, and deposited the coins in the small purse at his waist.

©2022 Vera S. Scott