The August 5 (20 page)

“To Jack and Hector,” Mr. Leahy said, raising his voice even louder.

“Jack and Hector,” the crowd echoed again.

Across the dance floor, Tamsin glimpsed Hector's young wife, Adele, with her arms tight around their seven-year-old daughter, Marina. Tears were streaming down both their faces.

“To Michael Henry!” Mr. Leahy shouted.

The crowd exploded with whistles and shouts of support, but all Tamsin could think about was the fury in her father's eyes when he told her to take up his sword. She had the urge to flee the crowd, but at the same time she didn't want to be alone. Tamsin grabbed Gavin's hand and pulled him out of the pub, through the kitchen and outside, into the back alley. She took deep breaths of cold air while Gavin watched her with concern and confusion. They weren't wearing their coats, and Tamsin was shivering uncontrollably. She regretted bringing Gavin with her. She wasn't sure how she felt about him anymore.

“Is it really so late?” Tamsin asked. It was a cloudless, windy night. The air felt cleaner than usual and the stars were almost as bright as they were on Aeren. “I think dancing with you is the first time I've lost track of time since I came here.”

“Are you angry with me?” Gavin asked. “It seems like since you went to see your father, you've been avoiding me.”

“I haven't written the treatise for you yet,” Tamsin lied. “I feel badly for letting you down.”

“Oh,” Gavin said. She could tell that he didn't believe her. They shivered without speaking for a while, and she thought he'd let the issue go. But then he spoke again. “That doesn't make a lot of sense, Tamsin. I'd rather you be honest with me than tell me something you think I want to hear.”

Tamsin couldn't bring herself to tell Gavin that her father hated him. Or how her father expected her to take up his mantle and crush the Zunft in his name. She couldn't bring herself to talk about Michael Henry and how the weeks in prison had grayed his hair and softened his jawline. Instead, she decided to share an idea that had been fermenting in her mind since the night she met Tommy Shore.

“I met someone at the Estoria the other night,” Tamsin said. “I met Tommy Shore, one of the sons of the chief administrator himself.”

Gavin didn't say anything for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. “I don't think you should work there anymore,” he said. “I'm sorry to be so direct, but I don't.”

“He doesn't know who I am, but he knows I'm from Aeren,” Tamsin said. “I told him to come here sometime, asking for Emilie.”

“Why would you do that?” Gavin sounded incredulous.

Tamsin took a deep breath. She knew what she was about to say would sound atrocious to Gavin. It had started as a germ of an idea after she met Tommy, but it had grown hour by hour until she could hardly think about anything else. She had run through scores of scenarios in her mind, but none of them could help her father. Then she formulated this plan, and though it was cold-hearted, she believed that it was the only thing that would work.

“We could make a trade,” Tamsin said. “Him for Papa. And Jack and the others.”

Gavin took a step backward and stared at her, and his silence was terrible. Part of her wanted to take the words back and reverse time. Another part of her felt defiant and proud that she'd shocked him. She knew that her father would be proud of her. It was a plan he would appreciate even if Gavin did not.

“You're talking about a human being, Tamsin,” he said. “It doesn't matter who his father is. He has the same rights as every other human being.”

“We wouldn't have to hurt him!” Tamsin said.
Unless they hurt Papa.

“But you'd consider it?” Gavin asked. “It's something you would actually entertain?”

“Nothing else will save Papa,” Tamsin said. “They're lying about his involvement with Hywel, and he's going to die for it.”

“He's facing a charge of treason for the August Rising,” Gavin said.

“We rose up against an unjust system!” Tamsin cried. “We rose up against people who treat us like slaves!”

“I want nothing to do with violence,” Gavin said. “I want change as much as you do, but I will not be a part of this.”

“Why do we always have to be weak?” Tamsin demanded. “Why not do the things that will make us as strong as them?”

“You're putting your life at risk,” Gavin said. “You're putting your mother and sisters at risk even talking about this. Is this who you want to be?”

“You tell me another way to be then,” she said. “A way that isn't powerless. A way that actually changes things!”

“I never said I had all the answers,” Gavin said. “But I know that subjecting another human to violence is wrong. I would rather die than hurt someone else.”

“You only say that because you're not in jail, too,” Tamsin said. She was so angry she could barely see straight. “You were too much of a coward to put your life on the line.”

“That's how you really feel, isn't it?” he said sadly.

If she wanted any friendship with this man, Tamsin knew she should take back what she had said. But somehow she meant it. Maybe he
was
a coward to let men like her father face the firing squad while he printed his books and bulletins. After an intolerable silence, Gavin walked away, and she let him.

19

THE ZUNFT CHAMBER TO BE REFURBISHED

Chief Administrator Shore has commissioned a renovation of the Zunft Chamber. His aide says substantial funds have been set aside to recreate a replica of the Chamber room when it was first established following the War for Aeren nearly a century ago. His plans include commissioning an artist to refurbish the mural
The Victory at the Hannon,
which commemorates the Battle of Aeren.

—
Zunft Chronicle,
October 8

The appearance of the Zunft Chamber had changed drastically since the day Colston Shore took power in August. The two tiers of chairs that faced each other were gone. Now there was only one platform with chairs against the north wall. The chief administrator's podium had been raised to a height above the chairs, and the adjudicator's seat had been moved off to the side. As before, the loft only had a smattering of people viewing the proceedings. Gavin recognized the same official journalist who wrote for the
Zunft Chronicle
. He was sitting in the same chair and acted as bored he had last time.

The old man, Kaplan, appeared to be snoozing in the adjudicator's chair. Colston Shore stood at the podium before the Zunftmen who had assembled for Chamber. From the loft, Gavin could only see the back of Shore, but he had a clear view of the faces of the Zunftmen as they watched their chief administrator with rapt attention. Gavin sensed something else, too. Many of the men looked tense and worried, even men who had chosen to align with Colston after the August Rising. In the last session, Colston Shore's new supporters acted like cocky victors. Now that arrogance was nowhere to be seen. Even Anderson was pale and withdrawn as he sat silently waiting for the session to begin.

“After a brief hiatus, the Chamber is back in session,” Shore said. Kaplan opened his eyes and sat up straighter. The opening rituals were supposed to be his job. Almost immediately, his eyes drooped and he slumped back in his chair and swiped his arm across his face. Gavin wasn't sure if he was trying to raise his hand or wipe drool from his mouth. It was such an awkward motion that Gavin wondered if the old man might be drunk or drugged.

“The investigation of the disappearance of Mr. Hywel is progressing,” Shore said. “As we speak, Zunft officers are closing in on a compound in Norde where we believe he is being held. If our information proves true, we hope to have him returned to the capital within days.”

There was a tepid round of applause among the Zunftmen, and Colston continued. “I'm pleased to announce that the revenue resulting from the end of the bread subsidy—”

Richard Shieldman stood up abruptly. He stamped his foot on the riser, a reverberating noise that halted Shore's speech. The men around him seemed astonished at his affront.

“With all due respect,
sir
,” Shieldman said. “But you are not following proper procedures of the Chamber. Adjudicator Kaplan should be directing the process. I have properly submitted a petition, which must be addressed under the hallowed rules of the Chamber. Under Statute 289.3b, I am calling into question the passage of the Food Purveyance Act…”

As Shieldman was speaking, Shore motioned to the guard at the door. Briskly, the guard opened the door and four armed soldiers marched in. The slam of the door and the thud of their boots drowned out Shieldman's voice. People glanced around in confusion, and someone shouted, “Kaplan!” But the old man merely opened his eyes a fraction and let them fall again. The guards stopped at the edge of the riser, near where Shieldman was standing. He tried to keep speaking, but when the guards closed in, his voice faded away.

“What is the meaning of this?” Shieldman asked Colston.

“A loyal Zunftman brought your recent activities to our attention,” Colston said. “We conducted an investigation and found you guilty of treason.”

At the word
treason
, there was a shocked silence in the Chamber. Gavin saw several people glance toward the revolvers strapped on the soldiers' belts.

“You are under arrest, Mr. Shieldman,” Shore said.

“I have the right to face my accuser,” Shieldman said.

“You have the right,” Shore repeated. “Very well. Mr. Anderson?”

Karl Anderson stood up abruptly. Anderson had been a supporter of Hywel prior to the August Rising, but had quickly become a vocal supporter of the Carvers. Gavin had written an article about him, calling him a “plump sheep in the company of wolves.” At the thought of the articles he had written, Gavin was struck by fear. He realized how much risk he'd put himself in by being here. Maybe no one noticed him, but he felt as if a beam of light were shining down on his head. Gavin suddenly realized that he hadn't brought a false identification card. If he were stopped, he would have to hand them a document with his real name. Gavin cursed himself for his stupidity. He'd barely slept after his argument with Tamsin and his tiredness had made him careless.

“During the debate over the Open Education Act, Shieldman approached me about voting for the act,” Anderson said. “He told me that there would be financial reward should I vote for the act and that he himself had received payment from cottager elements.”

“You're a liar!” Shieldman yelled.

“Did you take such a reward, Mr. Anderson?” Shore asked, ignoring the outburst.

“I did not,” Anderson said.

“You voted for the act!” Shieldman shouted.

“Richard Shieldman is under arrest,” Colston said. “You're to be held until such time as a trial is scheduled and your sentence is determined.”

At those words, Shieldman seemed to deflate. He turned back toward his peers and colleagues, but most averted their eyes from him.

“First the cottagers, now one of your own?” Shieldman asked the Chamber. “Aren't you afraid you'll be next?”

Of course the Zunftmen were afraid they were next, Gavin thought. That was why no one spoke in support of Shieldman. With one hand, Shore had played the fearmonger card while the other hand shelled out rewards to his loyal followers. Shieldman's earnest idealism was no match for Colston Shore. A guard put his hand on his gun and moved toward Shieldman. Resignation crossed Shieldman's features, and he let the guards take him into custody without incident. Gavin surveyed the faces of the men as Shieldman was removed from the Chamber. Their expressions ranged from the smugness of the veteran Carvers to the undisguised horror on the faces of the few remaining men who stayed loyal to Hywel. There was fear in many of the new Carvers' faces as well, but they were doing their best to conceal it.

When the door of the Chamber slammed shut and Shieldman was out of sight, Kaplan lumbered to his feet and weakly stamped the floor for attention. All heads turned toward the aging adjudicator. Colston walked over to the man's chair, leaned down, and whispered in his ear. Kaplan stood up straighter.

“In light of the recent political unrest and with the revelations of corruption in the Chamber, I move to dissolve the Chamber for a period of not more than six months,” Kaplan said, slurring his words. “During that time, Colston Shore will have full legislative powers and the authority to prosecute those who are found to have participated in this bribery scandal. We will vote by secret ballot.”

In response to this, two of Hywel's men stood up and left in protest. When the men had reached the door of the Chamber, Colston motioned to one of the guards to follow them. Gavin wondered if they would even make it out of the building before being detained.

The remaining Zunftmen wrote their votes on scraps of paper that were put into a silver dish. Kaplan left the Chamber to count the votes. He returned in less than five minutes.

“The decision was overwhelmingly in favor of the emergency legislation,” Kaplan announced. “This Chamber is officially dissolved.”

Colston Shore stood up, but there was no applause. “We will hold a mass trial for the rebel leaders this week,” he said. “Justice has been delayed for too long.”

This time, no one disagreed. After all, they had witnessed what had happened to Shieldman, the only man courageous enough to speak out against the mass trial back in August. Now that Shore had full legislative power, there was no way to compel him to reconvene the Chamber. In effect, power was completely in his hands. Gavin decided it was time to leave. He avoided the main entrance by ducking into a side stairwell, which led down to the lower level and into an alley. But when he turned the corner, he saw that a checkpoint was set up in front of the side doors. The soldiers motioned to him, and now that they had seen him, there was no way to go but forward.