Chapter 9
My body tumbles into fight-or-flight mode as I search for an escape. Except, aside from ducking under the table on the raised dais or squatting behind Atlas’s throne, I’m out of options.
Their footsteps come too quickly. I dart to my usual spot against the wall. Maybe the man I fought won’t notice me. And if he does, maybe he won’t recognise me. I’m not in rags or wearing a hood.
He saw my face.
A prayer falls from my lips as I rip down my high ponytail, drawing my dark hair forward to hide as much as I can. Then I still. Stare off at the wall. Pretend I am the wall.
Several sets of boots stride by me. My skin itches as it feels like someone is staring at me.
‘Greetings. I hear you had an eventful night,’ Atlas says, congenially. ‘You released my guardsmen?’
‘It was the least we could do.’
My pulse thrums faster as I hear his voice.
Recognise it. Still, I need to see with my own eyes.
I wait for the three men to stand in front of the dais before cautiously letting my gaze find them – and …
my stomach seizes. Damnation, it’s him. The urge to flee is like a fever now.
And if I weren’t certain Atlas would call me back, I’d be long gone.
As per procedure, they’ve all been stripped of their weapons, protective vests and jackets before entering.
They’re wearing matching dark trousers with large pockets and snug T-shirts; soldiers of some kind, they have to be.
I study the frame of the man I fought. Although a delicate chain hangs around his neck, his shoulders – his entire build, really – speaks to his strength.
A body honed from strict training, which I experienced when we fought.
He knew what he was doing, and very few people could stay on a panicked horse the way he did, me included. All while expertly wielding his bow.
Whatever – whoever – he is, he’s dangerous.
Where did you come from? It can’t be from either of the two small settlements to the east before the Rockies.
Grimwater is armed, but not like these men, and we already have a trade deal with them – their bricks and iron for our coal.
And Ashbreak’s falling apart – useless leaders, worse security.
They also barely have proper clothing, never mind matching uniforms.
The only other option is Lower Beaver Trading Post, a day’s ride south of here.
But like everyone else, they’re already our customer.
The largest. And with all the violence they deal with running their goods between their three forts across the Republic, they’d never hand over their weapons for a meeting.
So they’re strangers, which begs the question – what do these men really want?
Most outsiders come seeking shelter and safety, taking a position in the mine or something better if they have the skills.
For every trader and caravan with business intentions, countless more are thieves.
A snake in the grass, pretending they don’t know we’re the largest and wealthiest settlement in hundreds of miles – self-sufficient with our own barns and agriculture, and an endless source of coal.
Is that what they are? Predators here to scope us out to loot?
Can we risk finding out?
I know I can’t.
I study him closer. He has short hair the colour of soaking wheat, and his face is the kind of handsome that no doubt makes opportunities fall at his feet. Except it won’t help him here.
The next man appears to be a couple of years younger than I am. He’s shorter, less built. But in a few years, I’m sure he’ll be just as formidable.
I’m truly glad I didn’t have to fight the last man. Not only is he taller than everyone by a hand or two, I didn’t know muscles could get that big. For some reason, he looks disgruntled, which further sets me on edge.
‘I’m Ryland, and this is Samuel and Levi,’ Ryland says.
Atlas gives a dismissive wave. ‘I don’t need names. Just tell me where you’re from.’
Ryland hesitates, glancing around – until his gaze lands on me.
I suck in a sharp breath, unprepared.
His head tilts. A question forms in his eyes. And then something too close to recognition crosses his face.
My jaw clenches as I implore him with a look to stay silent.
‘I’m waiting,’ Atlas spouts.
‘Doesn’t matter where we come from,’ Samuel says. ‘We’re here to discuss a trade for coal.’
Ryland frowns, struggling to tear his questioning gaze from me. ‘What he means …’
‘Get out,’ snaps Atlas. He points. ‘I want him – the big one – out of here. Now.’
Coatl, who remained standing at Atlas’s side, grips the hilt of his sword and takes a threatening step forward.
‘What the hellfire do you mean, get out?’ Samuel barks. ‘We just got here.’
Atlas raises his chin. ‘I don’t like your attitude. You’re lucky I’m only kicking you out. I could have you killed for speaking to me that way.’
‘Killed?’ Samuel echoes in outrage. His large hand drifts to grab something on his waist that’s thankfully no longer there.
Metal slides against metal as Coatl and I draw our swords.
All three of the travellers look around in disbelief.
‘Sam,’ Ryland cautions, quietly.
‘Are you serious?’ Samuel grinds out. ‘Is this how you repay us for helping your men?’
Atlas scoffs. ‘The thief escaped with all our goods. The only thing you did was untie two guardsmen, and in our grand generosity, we let you sleep under our protection for a night. I now revoke that. Get out. Don’t make me say it again.’
The muscles in Ryland’s jaw flex as he grabs Samuel’s arm. ‘Just go, man. Come on.’
Samuel’s breaths are loud, and he hasn’t blinked in a really long time. I grip my sword tighter. If it comes to a fight, Coatl can take this one.
The hulking soldier grunts and storms out. The door slams behind him.
My lungs slowly deflate.
Atlas shifts on his throne, but his movements are jerky. His eyes dart around the room. ‘Kick him out of militia territory.’
‘Done,’ promises Coatl.
‘Commander,’ Ryland says. ‘He’s … I apologise for my friend. It’s been a long journey.’
Atlas’s attention shifts to the opal stone on his supposedly magic ring.
He runs his fingers over it with deliberate strokes.
Then, frustrated, he springs from his chair to inspect the wall behind him where his collection of unique weaponry is mounted.
I stiffen as he selects a trigger-loading crossbow and with a flick of his finger, loads a bolt.
Ryland lifts his chin, unease radiating off his skin.
I’m right there with him.
‘I’ll accept your apology on the condition that you get one thing straight,’ Atlas says, lifting the crossbow to peer through the scope. At least he’s aiming it at the wall, for now. ‘I’m no fool.’
‘I didn’t think you were,’ Ryland placates.
Atlas studies him. ‘Good. Then you’ll pay me what my coal is worth.’
‘I plan to.’
It’s like Atlas is a hissing cat, to a dog that can’t be bothered.
Atlas lowers his crossbow. ‘And what is it worth to you? Because if you’re expecting a price for a wood-burning alternative, you’re going to be disappointed.
Coal doesn’t just burn hotter and longer than wood.
It’s the future. In fact, after salvaging some old-world equipment, I’m closer than ever …
’ he pauses dramatically, ‘… to creating electricity with it. Soon we’ll be the first settlement with power since the bombs hit. ’
My eyes flutter closed, because of course he’d reveal the biggest reason to raid us … to strangers likely here to case the place.
Suddenly, there’s a loud thwack as a bolt hits the logs of the far wall. ‘Oops,’ Atlas says, holding up his no longer loaded crossbow. He chuckles.
No way that was an accident.
He loads another bolt with a jerk of his finger – a nice modification to the weapon … if it weren’t in the hands of a madman. I nearly groan seeing he has five bolts left.
‘Anyway, as I was saying … if you know history, you know coal is the key to any industrial revolution. Not only will it become electricity, but it will be the steel that rebuilds the Republic. Coal is the future and only I have it.’ He swings the newly loaded crossbow deliberately in front of the two men.
Only the young one flinches. A smile pulls on Atlas’s lips as he studies Ryland curiously.
‘So you can expect my price to reflect that value.’
Ryland remains stoic.
Atlas finally removes his finger from the trigger. ‘Now that we have that settled, let me tell you the rules of how this is going to work: answer my questions when I ask them. Ready? Where. Did. You. Come. From?’
Ryland’s mouth stays shut for a dangerously long time. ‘If I answer that,’ he begins slowly, ‘you’d have to know that I’m either lying to protect my people or telling the truth and risking my loved ones’ lives. I wouldn’t respect a person who did either of those things.’
Atlas smirks. His finger returns to the trigger. ‘That was brave, not answering after I told you to. Or maybe you’re just stupid. You think you’re in control here, but you’re not.’
‘Commander,’ Ryland says, his voice a little less calm. ‘This isn’t about control. We’d like to make a generous and lucrative offer to trade for your coal. And not just once. This would be an ongoing partnership lasting for years. It’s to everyone’s benefit to be truthful.’
Atlas stares, probably baffled by the word ‘truthful’.
Me – I’m not fooled. Anyone who has to declare himself truthful most certainly isn’t.
‘But before we go any further,’ Ryland says, ‘I am curious about something.’
Atlas tilts his head, intrigued.
Ryland lifts a finger and points directly at me.
A pickaxe of panic strikes my chest.
‘Who is this woman?’
My body turns to stone.
‘Who? Marian?’ the Commander scoffs. ‘That’s my daughter.’
I defiantly meet Ryland’s narrowed eyes.
‘Your daughter,’ he repeats, forehead creasing.
Questions are written all over his face. Why would you raid your own father? Why do you need to steal at all? His judgement of me is merciless and exposing me in the name of being honest would earn him a favour. Suddenly, I’m his ticket to getting a deal on coal.
A sheen of sweat breaks out on my skin.
‘You’re impressed with her?’ Atlas asks, pleased. ‘Most men are. She’s also surprisingly good with a sword, for a woman.’
‘Just a sword?’ Ryland asks, raising a brow at me.
My cheek pulses.
‘Commander, if I may,’ I blurt. ‘I find it convenient these travellers showed up just as our trailer was raided. And isn’t it interesting that between the three of them, they couldn’t stop it from being driven away?’
Ryland’s eyes go wide.
I’m not done. ‘Was the raider one of them? I heard he wore a hood, disguising himself. How do we know these men didn’t stage the raid to make themselves the heroes?
All while making off with our trailer. Then after earning a favour, they ask to spend the night, gaining access to the layout of Notting territory.
They’re not our trusted trading partners; we can’t afford to believe anything they say.
In my opinion: it’s too much of a risk. They should leave.
Immediately.’ Not all of that’s bluster and lies. I don’t trust them.
I can’t.
Atlas huffs. ‘My dear Marian, I do love your protectiveness. But have you not seen their well-bred horses and unique armour? Their well-made weapons? We have much to discuss.’
‘They could have stolen them.’
Atlas turns to Ryland. ‘Well, then I want to know from where.’ He smirks. ‘They have excellent taste.’ He raises his modified crossbow. ‘As you can see, I’m somewhat of a collector of weapons myself. Tell me, what exactly has your settlement scavenged from the old world?’
Ryland again hesitates, but this time his silence is the answer.
A lot.
Horror slices through me as Atlas’s face practically glazes over with greed. It’s been six years since he’s pillaged a village before burning it down. The only settlements left in the area – Grimwater and Ashbreak – exist because they lack the advances that he wants.
But for old-world treasures, he just might be tempted to raid again.
Atlas strokes his beard. ‘Yes, I think there’s potential here, but I won’t rush my decision. I’m very busy, so we’ll reconvene tomorrow. You and only this companion here can stay – as long as you behave and continue to follow my rules.’