Her Dangerous Visions (The Boy and the Beast Book 1) (22 page)

The bird call sounded loudly again, and Winter turned suddenly. At the window, Rabbit’s head and shoulders hung down from the roof, her hair, tied in a ponytail, swayed like a leaf viper hanging from a branch.

Winter rushed to the window.

“Quick!” whispered Rabbit. “Have you any word for us?”

The sight of her friend jumbled her thoughts. She stilled them as best she could, and tried to recall what she’d heard. “The Baron told me and Aven he was going to amend the farm contracts in some fashion. Something about removing the harshest parts.”

“Did he say anything about disbanding the Watch?”

“No. Nothing.” Winter glanced beyond Rabbit, past the garden path where there loomed the large grey wall. “How did you get in here?”

“Easy enough. Only the gate is guarded, so I use a hook and rope to scale the wall. This isn’t the first time I’ve come to visit the Baron’s guestrooms.” Rabbit glanced nervously past Winter. “Is that all I should know?”

“The Baron, he knows about you and Grey Bear. He knows about the rebellion.”

Rabbit nodded. “Did he say—”

The door to her room opened suddenly.

Winter spun around, her heart leaping in her chest.

Zamlah and Rose entered, followed by Aven, who wore a clean white tunic.

The faintest patter sounded on the roof above.

“Are you packed?” asked Rose.

“I just woke,” said Winter, her heart pounding frantically.

Aven scooped up a blanket and came over and wrapped it around her. It was then she realized he had mistaken the look on her face for one of embarrassment.

She had been standing there, almost naked in her silk bed attire. Awkwardly, she covered herself with the blanket as Aven took her hand.

Her breathing calmed. No one had seen Rabbit. Thank the Makers!

“Alright?”
tapped Aven.

“Yes. Slept like a queen…You look handsome.”

Rose looked at the pile at Winter’s feet. “I’ll be back with girls from the Baron’s harem. I want you packed up before they get here to dress you. Breakfast will arrive soon. We’ll be leaving for the marketplace in half past an hour.”

Rose left, and Zamlah stepped forward.

“I’m here to make sure you understand the Baron’s expectations for the day.”

“Expectations?” said Winter. “How do we know his offer is real?”

Zamlah’s white jowls flushed red. “You cannot
fathom
how fortunate you are, farm girl. The Guardians will come. But the Baron can change his mind at anytime, so do exactly as you are told and you’ll go from being pitiable to being respected here on Loam.”

“And the farmers,” said Winter. “The Baron will do all that he promised last night?”

“The same applies to them as to you. If they cooperate, they’ll receive everything the Baron discussed in your hearing. However, if they make further demands, if they are not satisfied, then there will be blood. As to the two of you—keep your mouths shut, do exactly as you’re told and all will go well.”

He turned with a flourish and left the room.

“Pack,” said Aven. “I want to be ahead of their schedule.”

“I’m worried for Grey Bear and Rabbit,” said Winter. “I’m not sure what to expect—how will the farmers react to the amendments?”

“Don’t feel sorry for Grey Bear. We warned him. He’s the cause of all this.”

Winter frowned at him. “The Baron is the cause of this. Don’t twist that around. He’s not our friend. Grey Bear is.”

Aven glared at her. “I know that. But Grey Bear is too willing to go to war against the Baron. He may get good people killed, and that includes himself.”

Winter bent down and began to pack. “I’m afraid of the part we might play today. I don’t like the idea of being one of the Baron’s game pieces.”

Aven stood, watching her shuffling through her bedroom’s contents. “We have to do it. Just for today. If his words are true, we’ll finally be free of him. The Guardians can’t be as bad as the Baron. Maybe they will let us go.”

“I want it to be real but, if it is, I don’t want it to cost us our souls.” She stopped, annoyed at the pleading tone of her voice. “And as to the Guardians, I can’t think of a stranger, more wonderful people to be sent to. I hope that part is true.”

If it was, surely it was part of the destiny that Leaf had given her. Leaf, the Maker who’d wrapped her in arms so strong. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt Whisper’s spirit pulling on her now, drawing her to lean on the memory of Leaf. To trust her calling, no matter what happened in the hours to come.

“We’ll find out together,” said Aven.

Winter stood, her clothing and her most treasured items packed in bags.

It was a strange moment. As if she and Aven were on a precipice.

They stared at each other in silence for a time, until Rose and the Baron’s harem arrived, interrupting their short refuge of quiet.

CHAPTER 23

AVEN

Aven thought
it strange at first when he counted only sixty soldiers protecting the Baron and his entire party as they made their way to the marketplace where the assembled farmers would be waiting. It was the whole of the Baron’s soldiers and his watch. Considering Rhaudius knew the hostilities the farmers held and the chance of rebellion, Aven was certain the Baron had hired contract soldiers from Anantium. Likely they were somewhere out of sight. Would the farmers suspect this? If at any point they thought they had a clear upper hand, anything might happen.

The horse beneath him snorted. He reached down and stroked the side of its muscular neck. Winter rode beside him, her packs secured behind her. There was an elegance and a power riding such a strong animal. An animal of royalty and wealth.

Aven passed his eyes over the tall grasses and through the trees. No sign of movement anywhere. It was eerie—the sound of the horse hooves clopping on rock and dirt, the stillness of the woods. Were Grey Bear and Rabbit where they should be, waiting in the main street of the marketplace? Were the rest of his fellow farmers there? It was a disturbing sensation, feeling like a member of the Baron’s party, hoping all was well.

The market’s flags rose over the small hillock that hid the buildings from sight. As the party crested the rise, Aven felt sick. He glanced at Winter. Her face was like stone as she watched the backs of the riders in front of her.

In the basin below stood the two rows of small shabby buildings. The blacksmith’s was the largest structure, but it was without fire today, for no smoke rose into the sky. A rather disturbing sight, seeing its furnaces without billows of smoke. It was always a sign of trouble in the valley, and without exception, a beheading was always portended by a smokeless sky. There was the slanted candlemaker’s cottage, the carpenter’s stone house, the cordwainer’s booth across from the potter’s kiln and a handful of traveling cottars’ tents with their odd specialties for sale.

And between these buildings was the patchy grass street filled with farmers. This was the only community Aven knew, having never traveled outside the boundaries of the farmland. As he looked at the sight of more than one thousand farmers crowded together, he found his chest grow tight. The farmers made no more than a faint murmur, as they watched him and his sister approach along with the Baron’s party. The stillness concerned him. As did the Baron’s display of apparent boldness, marching into such a place with such a weak show of force. Would he and Winter be given over to the Guardians if war broke out?

The Baron led his mounted force on top of a raised pavilion built for the farmers to have weddings and new moon dances. But the farmers never used the platform, for the Baron consistently tainted it with his executions.

Aven looked at the faces closest to the platform’s edge. Foxjoy, the old picker from Plot 7, scowled at him. Others did the same. Most simply looked up at him with confusion, wrinkling their brows.

Didn’t they know? Hadn’t Grey Bear spread the word about his and Winter’s alternative summons? Perhaps it hadn’t gotten to every ear? Or maybe it was the sight of them in fancy dress, seated upon the Baron’s horses.

A horrible question entered Aven’s mind. If the farmers went to war against the Baron, would they know which side he and Winter were on?

The Baron dismounted, as did Zamlah. Aven wanted to take his sister’s hand, but two mounted soldiers were between them.

“Good farmers,” came Zamlah’s booming voice from the stage. “Baron Rhaudius, son of Lord Sephorus and brother to Queen Taia of the Second Quorum, thanks you for coming here today.

“You are curious, no doubt, as to why you have been summoned. Baron Rhaudius does not wish to keep you long. His message is simple. He has come today to amend your contracts, and to make reparation for the harsh conditions you’ve served under for so long.”

The Baron stepped up in front of Zamlah and with a loud shout called, “Dear farmers, most of you here have been faithful, diligent workers. Today, I want to reward you for you
efforts. I’m going to amend the farming contracts so that you will be able to keep a higher percentage of the harvest, either for your own food, or for trading with outsiders, which was previously prohibited. Trade is now open within the borders of my land. I envision this meager marketplace growing in the near future, as I will now approve ten more seller’s slots to join these we already have.

“Lastly, I will be raising pay. I am doubling the percentage of the harvest that goes back into your pockets. If you are frugal with your coins, debt will no longer last a life time.”

The Baron stepped back, signaling his speech had ended. There was a deafening hush.

Aven’s spirits sank. Where was the applause? Had Grey Bear been so effective as to harden the hearts of the entire community?

He scanned the faces before him and saw subtle things. An old farmer named Stump fingering a sword hilt half-hidden within his cloak. Men and women whispering. Frantic nods. Silent gestures. When looked on as a whole, the entire assembly stirred faintly, like water disturbed by the wind. A farm girl Aven recognized from the East Vale of Plot 10 stared at the ground, a poorly concealed knife folded in her arms.

The back of the Baron’s shoulders sagged. Aven pictured the large magnanimous smile fading from his lips. It was then that a powerful voice called out amongst the farmers.

“Disband the Watch! Or your professed kindness will avail you nothing!”

Aven knew the speaker at once and spotted him not far from the front of the platform. It was Grey Bear. His head stood above the crowd, as did his broad shoulders.

“Do you speak for yourself?” asked the Baron. “Or do you presume to know the will of the crowd?”

“I presume nothing,” shouted Grey Bear, his voice cutting rough like a saw. “I represent the sentiments of most of the men and women standing here this day. And on their behalf, I thank you for your change of heart, and your amending the contracts, but we have this one further demand. The Watch must be disbanded. No more intimidation. No more listening to our private lives. We shall say what we please without your royal ear listening from behind the fortress walls.”

The Baron drew his sword. “This is my land you farm, Grey Bear. I make the rules. I design the law. These were agreed to by you, or the oaf who spawned you. I have given you much today, but I can take it away as quick as a sword can remove your head from your neck.”

Aven noticed movement at the far end of the crowd. Soldiers were issuing forth from the blacksmith shop. These were not the Baron’s men, for they bore a strange flag with a sword passing through the eyes of a skull. A cry started at the back of the crowd. It grew louder and louder until every head had turned and saw the armed men, several hundred strong, moving to encircle them.

The Baron shouted, drawing the crowd’s eyes. “Farmspit like you, Grey Bear, is the reason the Watch exists, not these good farmers around you. They have nothing to fear. It is your kind that stirs up trouble amongst these good people. You want power, so you loose your tongue like a hungry leech and prey upon your neighbors, stirring up their fears. The only one who needs to fear is you, wretch.”

Grey Bear surged forward like a gentle bull, pushing farmers out of his path with huge tender hands. “I care nothing for power,” shouted Grey Bear, stopping before the platform. “It is only freedom I and my friends are after. Behind you sits Aven and Winter. Good farmers, just like their parents. But it was your Watch who murdered their mother and father and left them orphans. It is by examples like that, and a hundred other cruelties, that we demand the Watch be disbanded!”

Aven feared his friend’s boldness as much as he admired it. How much did the farmers care for the freedom Grey Bear was fighting for? Would they not have cheered, as Aven would have, at the Baron’s amendments? On the heels of gaining so much in terms of wealth and freedom to trade, the dissatisfaction they’d felt only an hour before must have been much harder to hold on to, and with hired soldiers surrounding them, what hope did they have?

“Many of you know Aven, son of Lynx, and Winter, daughter of Amethyst.” The Baron turned and gestured toward him and his sister. “These two lost their parents at the hands of an incompetent Captain of the Watch. That captain was put to death on the spot by my own hand. Aven here can swear to that, for the man’s life was demanded that very night in his presence. And yet, the irony is that, just yesterday, it was you,
Grey Bear
, trying to persuade Aven to join in a rebellion against me. Aven, being a man of honor, refused, and even warned you against your foolishness.”