Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The heavy stamping of the City Guard ruins the peace of an early afternoon in Halice.
The cobblestones roll under my feet, the way cleared by men with solemn expressions walking in formation like a bubble around me.
The sky is blue and stoic, and the lazy, winding breeze has a slightly sharp edge that I find refreshing, but that bite holds a bitter venom when I think about how different things are.
As recent as weeks ago, I’d walk down this road to warm smiles and welcomes, giddy kids charging about on their way.
One of the crowd, I was welcome amongst the people.
Now a wall of steel separates me and the city I serve, to protect me from them.
To hold them at a distance. Half glare as I pass, some spitting at the ground, others turning their backs.
The people I’m trying to save. The community I love is the biggest threat to my safety.
When did everything become so broken?
As I approach the gates of the Garden, I hesitate.
The idea of polluting the Garden, a place that was my sanctuary for so many years, with the heavy marching of the City Guard hurts my stomach.
Surely here I’m safe. With people who know me.
My family has been a champion of the Garden since it’s conception by my grandfather. Surely these are my people.
“You can stay here,” I say, gesturing to at least three of the six guards swarming me.
“But, signora—” begins one of the guards in protest.
“Please, just stay here. I won’t be long,” I insist, before heading through the gate.
The Garden is a bustle of activity, workmen and artisans together in a flurry of creation.
The open, grassy spaces have been transformed into cluttered workspaces, littered with props and half-finished projects.
Contraptions of every ilk and design are undergoing serious work.
Musicians are arguing with workmen over the noise, designers are explaining plans to those building the innovations.
I recognise some of these machines; they were brought to me for funding approval. Machines of war.
Goodness they’re big – far bigger than I imagined. Perhaps they’ll intimidate the Holy States as much as they intimidate me.
People look up as I pass, some nodding in reverent recognition, others giving me a sour scowl.
I traverse the familiar path as an uneasy sickness clings to my ribs at their blatant inspection.
I feel vulnerable. At least with the guards around I have my bubble – the wall of steel sealing me away from the world outside.
Now I’m open, exposed, like a fresh wound.
I weave my way through the work, attempting to ignore the mixture of reactions until I come to Michelle’s house. I raise a hand and knock on the door. There’s some clattering inside and Michelle laughs as she opens it. Her face lights up on seeing me.
“Renza, come in!” She beams as I gesture for the remaining guards to wait outside. I follow her in and she shuts the door. I look around the familiar space and see Serra, Emilia and Alfieri sitting around her table, having just finished a late lunch.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I begin but Michelle waves it off.
“Not at all. Are you hungry? You look like you could use a sandwich,” Michelle says as she starts clearing up. Emilia, Alfieri and Serra all spring into action, collecting plates as they contribute to the efforts.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I answer, clearing my throat as I scratch nervously at my wrist.
“You sure?” asks Serra suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at me as though she can see straight through me. But then she could always do that. Her mouth turns down as though something about my appearance displeases her. My gut squirms under her examination.
“Yes, yes. I can’t stay long. I have a lot to do,” I answer and force a smile to my face, an attempt to ward off any more prying.
“No doubt, Maestrus,” Emilia answers with a chuckle. “What brings you to our little corner of peace amongst the havoc out there?”
“Is that”—I wave my hand towards the pandemonium happening outside Michelle’s front door—“normal then?”
“Our new normal,” says Serra with a shrug as she starts cleaning plates.
“It’s pretty cool, though. So much collaboration between disciplines.
So much discovery and innovation. I was talking to a roofer the other day and we think we may have a new way to roof homes more easily – something to save experimenting with for peace times but still something to think about. ”
I share a quick look with Emilia who flashes me a grin but motions I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. It’s so wonderful to hear Serra talking about engineering again in a positive light after spending so long swallowed in darkness.
“Yeah, the girls seem to be working constantly. Always a set of sums to do or a supplier to speak with.” Alfieri chuckles, sliding an arm around Emilia’s waist as he kisses her head. Emilia blushes up at him.
“Just a shame this all came about for such a ghastly reason. And it would be nice if we weren’t so rushed on every deadline,” says Emilia with a sigh, pursing her lips as her mind races away to a project.
Michelle snorts.
“You think you’re rushed? I’m supposed to consult on camouflage for the scouts in two hours and come up with a way to hide these new contraptions on our walls – which is next to impossible in case you were wondering!” Michelle groans and rubs the back of her neck.
“Sorry to be working you all so hard,” I say quietly, hot guilt crawling up my throat.
“You’re working harder than all of us,” Emilia says. I don’t know why her words feel like an accusation or perhaps a challenge to make them true. My blood churns beneath my skin.
“Maybe,” I mutter, turning my face away. I am working hard but it’s not like the girls, who have something physical to show for it. They know their contributions are making a difference for the better. The atmosphere only seems to be getting worse in this city, and I’m the one to blame.
“So what brings you into the fray anyway?” asks Michelle, putting her hands on the kitchen counter and waiting for my answer.
“I need you to convince Giulia to stay here for a while,” I say quietly. Michelle frowns.
“Why?” Serra asks, her tone taking no prisoners. All their eyes are on me. I sigh and look at my fingers. I pick at a hangnail as I speak.
“We had a break-in yesterday. They left something behind and Giulia found it. It was clearly meant for me.”
“What was it?” asks Alfieri, immediately walking closer and folding his arms. Those brown eyes are sharp and ready for action. I hold up my hands to calm him down.
“A dead rat. It was grim but not harmful – at least not physically. We handled it. But Giulia got really freaked out by it, and if they got in unnoticed by the guards once, I don’t trust it won’t happen again. It’s just not safe for her there at the moment with me being so … widely disliked.”
“Ungrateful idiots,” grumbles Serra, setting down a clean plate more aggressively than required.
“Wait, what are you doing about it, though?” Emilia frowns as she walks to Alfieri’s side. “Are you safe?” He rubs her arm to comfort the concern pouring off her. My stomach clenches as I clear my throat.
“We’ve updated the patrol patterns and have got more guards. But it’s better safe than sorry, and Giulia doesn’t deserve to receive any ire meant for me – no matter how minor the inconvenience.”
“But you’ll be in that house alone. Someone should be with you,” Emilia continues.
“I’m not alone,” I answer, trying to drag some warm confidence onto my tongue. “Our cousin Lysa is staying.”
“Yeah, because your family is so trustworthy,” says Serra with a snort.
“Seriously, Renza, are you safe in your house?” Alfieri asks quietly. “I can arrange somewhere for you so people don’t know where you are—”
“No, no. Thank you but I’m as safe as I can be.
I am the Maestrus and I can’t be seen to be running scared.
Besides, if there’s an emergency then people need to know where to find me.
But that’s not the same for Giulia. She might be safer here.
That’s all,” I say, fingertips itching with panic.
Why is the air suddenly so thin? Why is my tongue suddenly far too small for my mouth?
“Well it’ll be tricky,” Michelle answers quietly. “She wants to keep an eye on you.”
“On me?” I sigh, rubbing my temples. Fate help me. “I see. Well, please try.” I meet Michelle’s gaze. She nods slowly.
“Okay. I’ll try. But I won’t succeed all the time.”
“That’s all I ask. Thank you. Now, I must be off. I have to get to the soup kitchen by the Mill Fountain before Maggia disappears and turns up somewhere else.” I head for the door with as much enthusiasm as I can convincingly muster.
Alfieri comes after me. He puts a gentle hand on my forearm, stopping me just as I reach the door. His usually cheerful face is serious and intense.
“Renza, perhaps you should consider staying elsewhere. If people are breaking into your home—”
“One person,” I correct but he continues.
“I have a few safe houses I can offer you. Places you will be safe. My people are people you can trust absolutely. If your enemy doesn’t know where you lay your head, they can’t come after you there.”
I’ve already taken advantage of Alfieri’s connections once. And that landed him on the verge of death. I can’t make that mistake again, I can’t bear seeing anyone else hurt, not on my behalf.
“Alfieri, I’m constantly surrounded by a plethora of guards. Wherever I stay will end up being outed. At least at home we have defences and a plan—”
“A plan that’s already broken.”
“And been updated,” I counter. I take a deep breath to steady myself and offer him a smile. “Thank you for your concern, Alfieri. I mean it.”