Read Online Thief's War: A Knight and Rogue Novel by Hilari Bell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hilari Bell
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clearly wasn’t one of the thugs, and the arms that had risen reflexively fell again.
He had a darkening bruise on one cheekbone, but his eyes were clear so it probably wasn’t broken.
“What? I mean, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to get you to stand up,” I repeated. “Because my friend won’t be able to draw them away for long. And it’d be wise for you and your family to be packed and gone when they come back.”
“Packed? Gone where? I have a business here!”
“Not anymore, you don’t.” I kept my tone brisk, but I felt some sympathy. He’d no doubt put considerable work into this place.
However, Jack had taught me that holding onto a failing plan gets you nothing at best, and dead at worst. The sooner this man figured that out, the better.
He jumped again as the shop door banged open, and a plump woman in a starched cap and apron rushed out. She carried a long, wax-coated paddle and she glared wildly around the street before she flung it aside and knelt beside her…husband, no doubt. Two girls in their late and early teens followed her, and then a boy. His narrow face and lanky form bore no resemblance to the chandler or his family, and his clothes were rougher and shabbier—apprentice.
“How badly are you hurt?” The wife lifted a hand, and tilted the chandler’s face gently toward the light. For a moment I thought she’d weep, but then her soft lips firmed and she turned to me.
“Will you help me get him into the shop?”
“I told you t’ keep them upstairs!” the chandler said to his apprentice.
“Like he could,” said the youngest girl. Her older sister was weeping.
The apprentice shrugged.
“How much damage is there?” the chandler asked.
“That doesn’t matter.” I made my voice sharp enough to cut through the rising hubbub. “You all have to be gone when those men come back, or they’ll take up where they left off. Unless you’ve got enough money to talk them out of it.”
“We could have paid the tax,” the wife said. “But no one bribes the Rose’s enforcers. And he’s decided to make us an object lesson. You’re right, sir. We’ve got t’ leave.”
The Rose. After all these days of digging, pay dirt.
“We can’t just abandon—”
“It’s up to you,” I said. “Though I’d think it would be hard to run your business with crippled hands.”
“But where could we go?” the older girl asked.
“To your uncle Lionel, in Hinksville,” the wife said. “That’s out of even Roseman’s reach.”
“We’ve put ten years into this shop!” The chandler looked as if he was about to cry too. “All our savings.”
“There won’t be any shop, after Roseman’s through with it,” his wife said. “Do you have a better idea? Then we’re going to Hinksville.”
Between us, we got the chandler to his feet. He leaned on me as we followed the rest of his family into the shop’s front room—well lit, and no doubt usually a pleasant place, with the smell of fresh wax and sunlight gleaming on the long counter. Now glass from fancy candle lamps crunched underfoot. The candles had been broken or stamped on.
The mistress was already giving her daughters brisk instructions about what to take. Since they wouldn’t be around to tell anyone what I looked like, I removed Michael’s hat and folded my collar back down. If Roseman’s thugs offered a reward for information about someone matching his description, Michael would have to stay off the street. Which would have made any sane man give up and leave town…but I knew better than to expect that of Michael.
“Take nothing a horse can’t carry,” I told the chandler’s wife. “And you’ll need to buy the horses. If you rent, whoever brings them back could tell Roseman where you’ve gone.”
“But where…”
We passed through another door into the workroom, and the chandler’s voice failed him. They’d smashed most of the hanging racks—that’s probably what made the noise we’d
He had a darkening bruise on one cheekbone, but his eyes were clear so it probably wasn’t broken.
“What? I mean, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to get you to stand up,” I repeated. “Because my friend won’t be able to draw them away for long. And it’d be wise for you and your family to be packed and gone when they come back.”
“Packed? Gone where? I have a business here!”
“Not anymore, you don’t.” I kept my tone brisk, but I felt some sympathy. He’d no doubt put considerable work into this place.
However, Jack had taught me that holding onto a failing plan gets you nothing at best, and dead at worst. The sooner this man figured that out, the better.
He jumped again as the shop door banged open, and a plump woman in a starched cap and apron rushed out. She carried a long, wax-coated paddle and she glared wildly around the street before she flung it aside and knelt beside her…husband, no doubt. Two girls in their late and early teens followed her, and then a boy. His narrow face and lanky form bore no resemblance to the chandler or his family, and his clothes were rougher and shabbier—apprentice.
“How badly are you hurt?” The wife lifted a hand, and tilted the chandler’s face gently toward the light. For a moment I thought she’d weep, but then her soft lips firmed and she turned to me.
“Will you help me get him into the shop?”
“I told you t’ keep them upstairs!” the chandler said to his apprentice.
“Like he could,” said the youngest girl. Her older sister was weeping.
The apprentice shrugged.
“How much damage is there?” the chandler asked.
“That doesn’t matter.” I made my voice sharp enough to cut through the rising hubbub. “You all have to be gone when those men come back, or they’ll take up where they left off. Unless you’ve got enough money to talk them out of it.”
“We could have paid the tax,” the wife said. “But no one bribes the Rose’s enforcers. And he’s decided to make us an object lesson. You’re right, sir. We’ve got t’ leave.”
The Rose. After all these days of digging, pay dirt.
“We can’t just abandon—”
“It’s up to you,” I said. “Though I’d think it would be hard to run your business with crippled hands.”
“But where could we go?” the older girl asked.
“To your uncle Lionel, in Hinksville,” the wife said. “That’s out of even Roseman’s reach.”
“We’ve put ten years into this shop!” The chandler looked as if he was about to cry too. “All our savings.”
“There won’t be any shop, after Roseman’s through with it,” his wife said. “Do you have a better idea? Then we’re going to Hinksville.”
Between us, we got the chandler to his feet. He leaned on me as we followed the rest of his family into the shop’s front room—well lit, and no doubt usually a pleasant place, with the smell of fresh wax and sunlight gleaming on the long counter. Now glass from fancy candle lamps crunched underfoot. The candles had been broken or stamped on.
The mistress was already giving her daughters brisk instructions about what to take. Since they wouldn’t be around to tell anyone what I looked like, I removed Michael’s hat and folded my collar back down. If Roseman’s thugs offered a reward for information about someone matching his description, Michael would have to stay off the street. Which would have made any sane man give up and leave town…but I knew better than to expect that of Michael.
“Take nothing a horse can’t carry,” I told the chandler’s wife. “And you’ll need to buy the horses. If you rent, whoever brings them back could tell Roseman where you’ve gone.”
“But where…”
We passed through another door into the workroom, and the chandler’s voice failed him. They’d smashed most of the hanging racks—that’s probably what made the noise we’d
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