19. Landry
19
LANDRY
L andry hurried through the dark streets of Tournai with his cloak and hood pulled tightly around him against the driving wind and lashing rain. Normally, the rain did not bother him, but that night, shadows and the threat of the king’s wrath nipped at his heels.
It had been an unproductive meet of the guilds, and worry settled in his belly. The threat of arrest was enough to terrify anyone, but their own had now been targeted. Two guild masters were missing. Their wives had already beseeched Landry for help. He knew they had been arrested, though not what for. They had committed no crime he knew of, which worried him even more. As leader of the guilds, Landry worried he would be next to suffer the king’s wanton moods.
He was only glad that he remained free… for now. The spymaster’s dark presence dogged his steps. He still worried that it was some elaborate trick of Dimitrius’s. He still had given no answer to the spymaster, who had not approached him again. Landry felt like a dead man, waiting for the axe to fall. The promise of Dimitrius’s return was a threat that grew worse for the waiting.
Aislin threw herself into his arms the moment he entered their home. She had clearly been dithering, waiting for him to return.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re home. You’re so late. I worried…” She bit her lip, not wanting to say what she had worried, but he knew.
That I was not coming. His chest seized as his heart splintered. To protect her—his family—was his purpose and to know he could not do so in the face of greater power than his own threatened to break him. “I’m fine. Don’t worry, my love,” he said in a voice lighter than he felt, but she looked at him with creased brows, her green eyes flashing with worry.
She searched his face. “You’re not fine, though, are you? I heard. Aberon has been arrested now, too, hasn’t he?”
Face ashen, Landry could not deny her.
“You must turn from this madness, Landry. I cannot see it happen to you, as well. I fear what the king will do to all those he has arrested. I could not bear it if you were taken.”
“I shan’t be taken, Aislin. I pro?—”
She stepped back. “Do not promise what you cannot keep!” she warned.
Shayla sidled from the kitchen, eyes wide. “Papa?”
Landry straightened at the little girl’s presence, and Aislin blanked the consternation and frustration from her face.
“Good evening, my little ember.” Landry smiled as warmly as he could. “Where’s my evening hug?” Shayla dashed forward to be scooped up into his arms for a scratchy kiss. “Now, go see that the boys are ready to eat.”
Shayla scrunched her nose in distaste as she wriggled free and ran up the stairs, shaking dust from the ceiling above her parents with every thunderous step as she raced to fetch her brothers for dinner.
Landry met Aislin’s concerned gaze once more. His wife stood with her arms folded. That was never a good sign. “You need to keep your head down, for the sake of the children and I,” she said in a low voice.
“I know what I must do,” he said, more gruffly than he intended. “I am not so foolish as to act, no matter how riled up and scared everyone else is. Half the guilds are for supporting the spymaster, half against. Thus, I shall act neither way.”
Indeed, half had wanted to accept Dimitrius’s offer in their haste to secure the trade routes once more, but Landry was glad that enough shared his own trepidation at trusting the shadowy spymaster. It marginally lessened the pressure to act.
“But you don’t feel safe?” Aislin echoed the fear he did not name.
Landry shook his head, sighing. “I’m considering sending you and the young ones away. I’ll keep the twins with me, I need them to keep the forge going, but Shayla and her brother are too young for any of this.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And you are too precious.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her eyes narrowed in defiance, before flicking upwards. Above them, the house rumbled and shook as their four offspring barrelled down the stairs for supper.
“If it gets any worse, you must. I know you don’t want to, but your family will take you in, if needed,” Landry said.
“It won’t come to that,” she hissed as their children ran between them to the table.
Landry hoped she was right, but misgivings lurked in his stomach, and as he sat to eat, he chanced a look through the window. Another building in the city burned. The looters were out again.
I cannot send her away. I cannot let her stay. I cannot remain. I cannot leave.
The food tasted like ash in his mouth, and the walls felt too thin to protect them from the threats that lay too close to their door.