By the second week of his stay at the Cremont farm, Alvery understood exactly what Tiaznia had meant when she had said he wouldn’t be able to work on his own things while he stayed with the kindly older couple.

While Eliza Cremont had been honest about mid-afternoon being when he finished with helping Eugene Cremot, by then his muscles felt as though they were filled with lead, and his mind foggy with exhaustion.

He would go into the cozy home, eat a late lunch, make it to his room and succumb to sleep on the bed instantly. Then next thing he’d know, he’d have to haul his aching body back up to the breakfast table to start it all again.

Despite his stout efforts, Alvery knew he was far from the ideal farmhand. His poor physical state and unpracticed hands fumbled heavy sacks of grain, and slogged through tasks that Eugene Cremont, despite being more than a decade his elder, completed with ease.

However there was an upside to the grueling manual labor, as with the deadening exhaustion, Alvery’s anxieties quieted, and his mind lulled between thoughts.

It gave him no time to think about the duke, or about how he hadn’t heard from Georgie, or about the peri girl he had chased away…

That is until one sunny day, as Alvery hauled bales of hay into the troughs, the dust making him cough, Eliza Cremont came to find him.

“Robin dear, Colleen from the inn has sent word through the post man on his way out of town that a gentleman has come looking for you. He said his name was Corbin.”

The first dinner Alvery had spent in the Cremon’ts company, he had told them that Robin was his first name, and given his recent confrontation with the other townspeople, neither of them had pressed the matter.

Upon hearing about the arrival of Corbin, Alvery’s heart leapt to his throat and he straightened.

Seeing his expression, Eliza grew concerned. “Is everything alright? He said he was a friend of yours.”

Alvery averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “Yes, everything is fine. I just didn’t expect to cross paths with him until I made it to Scarlem. I’m sorry, but would it be alright if I head to town straight away?”

Eliza didn’t look entirely convinced that Alvery was telling the truth, but after a slow nod, gave him a half smile. “Not a problem. Do you think you will be back in time for dinner?”

Alvery tried to emit a casual air about himself, even though his hands were already trembling...

“I believe so. Corbin doesn’t like to stay in one place for long. He’s probably just stopping by.”

Striding over to Eliza, Alvery pulled off the leather gloves he’d been wearing and with a forced polite smile to his hostess, continued to make his way out of the barn without another word.

However he didn’t head back to the house to change or even wash his hands. Instead, he stowed his gloves in his back pocket, and continued walking toward Aniselle.

Eliza stared after him, a corner of her mouth stretching to the side thoughtfully, and her head tilting over her shoulder.

With her thoughts wandering away from her, Eliza failed to hear her husband arriving behind her through the barn's back door.

Looking around the barn and seeing that his guest was nowhere to be found, Eugene ambled over to his wife.

“Robin have to go somewhere?” he asked curiously.

“Yes. A man named Corbin sent word from the inn that he wanted to see him,” Eliza replied after giving a small startle when her husband appeared at her side.

Eugene nodded and looked to the sky as a respectable gust hurried the clouds overhead.

“North wind. If it keeps up we might have rain.”

Eliza nodded distractedly. “I know we agreed he seems like a nice man, but he certainly is scared of something.”

Eugene stared after Mr. Robin as he grew more distant from where they stood.

“He is a decent sort. Awful with farm work. You can tell he lived an easy life.”

“You said Chief Balon didn’t find him as a missing or wanted person, right?” Eliza queried while looking up at her husband.

Eugene's right hand found his hip. “No, nothing came up. It could be a more personal matter Robin is avoiding. He probably isn’t using his real name, so it could be he is from an important family and he’s run off.”

Eliza took in a deep breath and let it out. “Well, as long as he doesn’t bring his troubles to Aniselle, it isn’t for us to know about.”

Eugene didn’t respond, but Eliza could tell by the pursed smile he gave her he agreed.

Clasping her hands in front of her snowy white apron, Eliza turned her toes toward their house. “Well, I best start on lunch. You know… it’s been nice having company around. Perhaps we invite one of our grandsons to come for a visit this summer.”

“Don’t bother Robert and the boys. I’m sure Olivia has planned out their entire summer already,” Eugene shook his head with a chuckle, the familiar twinkle in his eyes appearing as he thought of his son.

Eliza wished she could’ve expressed how much she missed their boy, but didn’t want to burden her husband who always did everything he could to make her happy…

Putting her melancholy in its usual worn space in her heart, she instead made her way back to the house, and her mind turned to boiling the bones of the chicken they had nearly finished to make a good soup.

*

When Alvery entered the tavern below the inn, his eyes instantly scanned the room that had transformed from its previous quiet peacefulness into a bustling place of excitement as folk in fine clothes and well to do tones filled the space.

At first several people near the door eyed him with looks of disgust before whispering behind lace gloved hands to whomever happened to be in their company, making Alvery’s paranoia be reborn anew.

Colleen, who stood behind her counter with a thick book laying between her and a family of three that were checking in, noticed the displeased looks her customers were giving her former guest, and so rushed over with a pained smile on her face.

“Mr. Robin, I understand that you must be in a hurry to see your friend, but you look like you came from mucking a barn.”

Alvery looked down in surprise. In his haste to meet with Corbin he had completely forgotten that he looked every bit the part of a local farmer… His trousers were muddied and covered in haydust, the shirt that had belonged to Mr. Cremont’s son was even worse as it was just as dirty as his pants but he had also sweat through it several times over.

“Sorry about that. Where might I find the man who sent for me?” he asked, his shoulders relaxing when the crowd around them chose to give him and Colleen more space.

“Ah he’s just started his lunch, over in the corner over there.”

Alvery swallowed and nodded his thanks, then, on legs that felt wooden, made his way around the crowds and tables toward the back corner where, just as Colleen had said, the familiar broad back clad in a navy blue coat sat hunched over the table.

Fingertips digging into his palms, Alvery rounded the table and sat down across from the grizzled man.

“Get lost,” Corbin Gallis growled without lifting his dark brown eyes from his meal.

“Corbin,” Alvery greeted while leaning his forearms against the table.

The man’s eyes flew up in astonishment, then took stock of Alvery’s current state of dress and let out a loud, “HA!”

Corbin grabbed the napkin in his lap and pressed it to his mouth. His gold pinky ring flashing as he did so.

“What news from my brother do you have?” Alvery asked while doing his best to ignore people staring at them.

With his eyes watering from laughing while his stew was still in his mouth, Corbin didn’t respond before he took a gulp from his cup that smelled of red wine.

Alvery relaxed.

His brother’s hired muscle never drank unless it was an easy job like passing along a message.

“Just came to let you know Gestov is sending more men out looking for you, he's getting impatient in Scarlem. It won’t be long before his men find this town. You have a month at most before they come, but–” he eyed Alvery up and down with another grin, his white teeth flashing– “if you stay hidden where you are now, they most likely won’t find you.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A cold sweat broke out along Alvery’s back. “Do you know where these search parties are right now?”

“They fanned out from what I understand. So there is no where that will be safe. Even traveling off road is sure to draw attention.”

Alvery’s dirty hand slipped under his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“I already told you. Stay as you are. You’ll be fine. I was going to see about staching you away in a hole in the ground. A shack I know of, but I’m willing to bet good coin your brother would never have imagined you of all people looking like a grody peasant, let alone the people Gestov has hired.”

“I was never as taken with luxury as my brother,” Alvery countered a little defensively.

Corbin laughed. “True, but you do like comfort. You prefer your books and trinkets. I remember the day you came back with tears in your eyes and blood over your face your first day of your military training. You swore you’d never go back and tried to lock yourself in your family library.”

“How many people do you know that would get excited about being punished in the face?” Alvery asked with a small grumble in his voice.

“It’s what happens when you’re mouthy in the military. It was a good lesson,” Corbin added ruefully.

“I don’t agree with blind obedience.”

“You still think too much,” Corbin scoffed.

Alvery didn’t respond as his brother’s man gripped his wooden spoon as he would a shovel, and consumed another mouthful of the meaty stew that made Alvery’s stomach rumble.

The sound prompted Corbin to look at him from under his wiry gray and black eyebrows.

“You look better than when I first got you out of the dukedom. Lost a good amount of that gut these past couple months I see. That’ll help when you travel again. The ones looking for you won’t expect it. If only it weren’t for your glasses.”

Alvery’s middle finger gently tapped the table. It was true that months ago when he had first fled the dukedom he had been even heavier than when he’d arrived at Aniselle.

“Can’t help bad eyes,” he managed to say idly.

Corbin shrugged. “If you had someone to guide you when you passed through crowds it’d help. Getov won’t be looking for two people, and if you look like a farmhand without glasses well… no one would be the wiser. Especially if you keep smelling ripe. No one will want to get within a bench length of you. But you know your brother, he doesn’t want to bring too many people into this.”

Resisting the urge to give himself a sniff to see if he really was as bad as Corbin said, Alvery instead leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“Tell my brother I won’t be able to respond for a while. I’ll leave Aniselle soon and hide somewhere else. I might be a bit late getting to Scarlem, but maybe that’s better if Gestov has people looking for me right now.”

“Where are you running off to?” Corbin asked while lowering his spoon and his eyes narrowing.

Alvery resisted flinching.

While Corbin may have been employed by his older brother, he was known to have changes in mood that were dangerous. His arms were the size of most men’s thighs, and he knew how to handle his strength to deal significant damage to an opponent. Even worse still, he wasn’t a fool. His shrewd gaze saw the world as a hunting ground, and he made use of what he saw to benefit himself nicely.

“I can’t say just yet. I don’t know for certain myself, but I’ll send a letter to my brother when I’m on my way there.”

Corbin leaned back, his tongue reaching back to free a piece of food lodged in his teeth while he once again reached for his wine.

“Careful with your improvisation there, Quinzel. If you get caught, your brother may not be as… generous with getting you out again. No use in helping someone who’s fate it is to get trapped.”

“Ssh!” Alvery hissed his eyes frantically looking around.

Corbin’s eyes danced with the pleasure of seeing the man before him squirm.

“Aah. That’s right. Your name is Mr. Robin, isn’t it? Wouldn’t want anyone to mistakenly tie you in with a certain noble family, would you?”

Alvery hands tentatively gipped into fists, but when Corbin looked at them hungrily, as though wishing that the younger man would take a swing at him, he relaxed them again.

“My brother needs me just as badly as I need him after what happened in Pastrim. He can’t afford for Gestov to get his hands on me.”

Corbin stared at Alvery levelly as he then set down his wine cup.

“That may be, but then again, he could always hand you over to your father, couldn’t he?”

“Then there’s no reason for me to help him,” Alvery countered, while stilling himself.

He was doing his best not to appear terrified. While he knew everything he was saying was true, he still felt as though he were bluffing…

“You know… I’m not a titled man myself, but I’m fine with that. Because I know as soon as you take that piece of refinement, all sorts of expectations are pushed on you. Going to court, minding yourself in front of those better than you, keeping up with some ruddy trend a woman with too much time on her hands comes up with… and of course, running the lives of my children.” Corbin paused, a cruel smirk climbing his mouth, creasing the scruff of his cheeks. “When your father gets his hands on you, it won’t just end with a comfortable position in the military. You’ve humiliated him. Brought shame to the family. I imagine a marriage will be arranged that is either insulting to you or advantageous to your father, or both. Then you’ll be under the thumb of not just him, your wife’s family, the wife herself. It won't be long before you're worn, fat, and burdened with the mouths of brats you were forced to breed.”

Alvery’s heart hammered in his chest, his throat closing.

“Tell me, will you hang yourself do you think? Or will you put a pistol to your head? How long will it be before you realize your only escape from that fate is your death?”

Alvery’s right cheek twitched, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He only hoped he looked like he were glaring instead of cowering.

“I’m not a learned man like yourself, Alvery Quinzel, but I do know that without the help of your brother, that is your future.”

Licking his lips that had grown dry, Alvery leaned in, his thoughts and emotions buzzing together.

“If that’s my future? Then I know my brother’s won’t be much better. Without keeping his business partners happy? Without any means of making good on his promise of earning back the losses? What do you think awaits him? Fifteen years jail time? Tell me, do you know the sheer volume of charges and fines he has at his back? Can you count that high?” Alvery speculated derisively and watched black rage fill Corbin’s eyes. “Maybe I’ll be a fat, kept man, but I could still taste wine at dinner and sleep in a warm bed every night. My brother will be lucky if he lives a year in prison with the amount of people he has ruined, and where do you think that will leave you? My brother won’t fall by himself.” Alvery stood up, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

His knees felt like they were going to knock together the second he stepped over the bench, but he did it anyway. Though by the second step away, Corbin decided he couldn’t let his employer's weakling little brother have the last word.

“If it comes between betting who will come out on top, I put my faith in your brother to do the dirty work necessary. You don’t have the backing or the balls to win these fights. So you sit quietly, or run somewhere new, but you know either way, you’re on a leash.”

Not trusting himself to speak without stammering, Alvery continued out of the tavern. He could feel Corbin’s bloodthirsty gaze at his back, and so decided he would walk to the woods and take a longer way back to the Cremont’s.

Diolla… Georgie better get back to me soon. I can’t keep living like this.

As he made his way out the town exit and Alvery half stumbled across the thick lawn where small flies swarmed in clouds as the sky darkened above and promised rain. He glanced toward Tia’s caravan that saw inconspicuously along the treeline.

It looked as abandoned as ever… Certainly no one would ever think someone lived there.

He shook his head.

It was the right thing chasing her away… She doesn’t deserve to get tied up in my problems.

Reluctantly, Alvery admitted he found himself missing Tia’s easy company.

Maybe one day I can sit down and have a proper conversation with her. One day maybe I could tell her why I had to be an arse to her, and maybe then she’ll tell me her own story…