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Authors: Jenna Helland

The August 5 (11 page)

BOOK: The August 5
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“Not if you're a social outcast,” Bern said. “Father is having to adjust, too. He's not exactly a social person either, but Hywel hosted regular parties, and now Father feels like it's expected of him.”

“Talking to these people makes my brain go numb,” Tommy said.

“You're being judgmental,” Bern snapped. “You have no idea if these people will be boring. You haven't met any of them.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy said. He was expecting to see the same group of men as always—the stalwart Carvers who had supported Colston for years.

“After the cottager violence in August, Hywel's men became part of the Carver faction. Remember how Father warned everyone that a cottager rebellion was coming? The cottager violence gave him credibility. And once the Zunftmen were finally listening to him … well, you know how good he is at striking fear into the hearts of men. Their allegiance is the point of tonight. By attending, people are publicly declaring their loyalty to Father.”

“No one will actually say that, though, because that would be too obvious,” Tommy said, switching to an obnoxious voice: “I hereby join the Carvers because I am opportunistic and fickle.”

“Watch your mouth, Tommy,” Bern said. “Don't say stuff like that.”

“Now that they know Hywel was kidnapped, why are they still loyal to Father? It's not Hywel's fault.”

“Actually, it
is
his fault,” Bern scoffed. “Hywel coddled the cottagers, and they turned on him anyway. Father's in charge now so it's smarter to stick with the Carvers. The chief administrator gets to assign positions in government, after all.”

Tommy sighed. So some of the new Carvers were terrified and some were greedy—either way, his father had majority control of the Chamber. They turned on Piper Lane and could see their father's home at the end of the street. Like most of the town houses in the North District, it was a three-story rectangular building with a flattop roof and a high wooden fence around the property. The town house had recently been painted light blue with white trim around the tall windows. The door was still a glossy black but the golden Shore crest had been replaced by a silver Zunft symbol, which hung above the knocker. Tommy found himself wishing for an explosion or an earthquake, anything to get out of the festivities.

A servant met them at the door and escorted them to the library. The last time that Tommy had been here, an oversize mahogany desk dominated the room. Now that was gone, and a smaller cherrywood desk was tucked in the corner. One wall had been ripped out and replaced with glass doors that opened onto the garden terrace. Leather-bound tomes filled the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. They had been acquired by Tommy's maternal grandFather, who was an avid naturalist and mapmaker. Colston kept the books because they were rare and expensive, but Tommy doubted he'd ever read them.

A uniformed officer and a Zunftman in a tailcoat were seated on two new couches that had been placed in a cozy arrangement in front of the marble fireplace. The two men rose when the boys entered the room, but Colston remained seated. The Zunftman in the tailcoat offered his hand and greeted each of the boys. The officer nodded at them but kept his distance.

“Right on time,” Colston said approvingly. “Let me introduce you to my guests. This is Officer Sanneral, a Zunft army investigator, and Mr. Anderson, a member of the Zunft Chamber. These are my sons, Bernard and Thomas. They are both students at Seminary this year.”

Tommy had never seen Mr. Anderson before, but he seemed like the sort of ally you'd want in your camp. A handsome blond man with a boyish face, Mr. Anderson had a booming voice with a distinct Norde accent. In contrast, Sanneral reminded him of a weasel with his pointy chin and small eyes.

“Pleased to meet you, sirs,” Bern said quickly, and Tommy nodded, not sure whether he was supposed to repeat the sentiment or not.

The twins remained standing while the men continued with their conversation.

“The suspects are communicating through a series of couriers,” Sanneral said. “We're monitoring them, of course, but no one has led us directly to Hywel.”

“You're from Norde,” Colston said to Mr. Anderson. “What are your thoughts on the native cottagers?”

“As you know, it's quite different up north,” Anderson said. “We don't have the large agricultural holdings like you have on Aeren. Many of our cottagers have never been associated with an estate at all.”

“Do you have problems with criminal elements like we do in the city?” Sanneral asked, and Anderson looked thoughtful.

“A lot of them are hunters who live in the forest,” Anderson said. “They still call themselves Rangers up there and are more savages than criminals.”

“Savages who would kidnap the chief administrator?” Colston asked.

“Perhaps,” Anderson said. “Although they don't seem to pay much attention to our affairs. There aren't any schools outside of Stokkur, and I doubt any of them can even read.”

“What language do they speak?” Colston asked.

“Old Aelin, actually,” Anderson said. “The forests of Norde are the only place where it's still spoken in the islands, or so I'm told.”

“It's hard to imagine that there are such backwaters left,” Sanneral said. “They've probably never seen an autolight or a rover.”

“Most of us on Norde haven't,” Anderson joked, earning an appreciative laugh from Colston.

“We'll do our best to change that, Karl,” Colston said. “We can't have our brothers in the north shivering in the dark.”

“Good man,” Anderson said. “At night, it's darker than a cottager district up there.”

“Turn on a few lights and we might find Hywel himself cowering in the shadows,” Colston said.

“What are the latest demands from his kidnappers?” Mr. Anderson asked. “Have we heard anything more?”

Unexpectedly, Colston smiled into his port glass. “Oh, the kidnappers have made a new demand. They demand the
dissolution
of the estate system. Prepare to hand over every acre to the fools in their flat caps.”

There was shocked silence, and then Sanneral and Bern burst out laughing, but Anderson seemed perplexed.

“Surely this wasn't planned by someone on Norde,” Anderson said. “I don't think our cottagers appreciate how our legal system works.”

“Well, you're correct,” Colston said approvingly. “I suppose it's time to give them the news, Sanneral. Despite the early reports, our investigation has revealed that the kidnapping happened here in the capital. Hywel was then transported to Norde and probably taken to a remote location in the wilderness.”

“There are huge areas of unexplored wilderness in Norde,” Anderson said. “How will you search for him?”

“The kidnapping was masterminded by a radical who lives here in Sevenna,” Sanneral said. “We'll compel him to reveal his Norde connections.”

“It's these Norde connections who have Hywel?” Anderson asked. “That's who you're getting demands from?”

“Apparently,” Colston said. “Because the mastermind is in jail.”

Sanneral snorted and Colston smirked. The two men were enjoying a private joke, but everyone else was obviously confused.

“You've arrested the mastermind?” Anderson asked. “Where did you find him?”

“He was already
in
custody,” Sanneral said. “We arrested him at the customs house during the August Rising.”

“Michael Henry masterminded the kidnapping of Mr. Hywel,” Colston said.

“He must have planned the kidnapping as a fail-safe in case his rebellion failed,” Sanneral said. “I guess it occurred to him that men with flat caps can't really fight men with guns.”

“I know that name,” Anderson said. “He's that cottager journalist from Aeren who makes all the street speeches.”

“A rabble-rouser with pretensions to power,” Colston said. “Hywel even took pains to accommodate this bastard. And see where it got him.”

“Now that you know Henry was involved, what are you going to do?” Anderson asked.

“Shoot him for treason, eventually,” Colston said. “But first, we need to get Hywel back.”

“Do you really think he'll talk?” Anderson asked. “His kind will martyr themselves for any reason.”

“It doesn't matter whether he does or not,” Colston said. “I'm ending the bread subsidy in response to the kidnappers' demands. If the cottagers have a single intelligent man among them, they'll realize that the rebels are making their lives more difficult. Hopefully, someone will turn on them, and we'll learn the whereabouts of our colleague.”

“What about a reward?” Sanneral said. “Do you want to offer a reward for his safe return?”

“No, I'm not spending a coin if I don't have to,” Colston said. “They want me to dismantle the estate system. Well, they can bully me all they want. I won't dismantle anything. I'll make it stronger—and untouchable—for future generations.”

“Hear hear!” Sanneral and Anderson raised their glasses, and Tommy and Bern quickly did the same.

There was a knock at the door, and the butler announced that dinner was being served. As they filed into the dining room, Tommy whispered in Bern's ear: “How does ending the subsidy help make the estate system stronger?”

“For reading so much, you don't know anything,” Bern whispered back. “The subsidy has made the cottagers lazy. Now Father's going to make them work for a living and blame the extremists for their situation at the same time. It's really brilliant.”

“Uh-huh,” Tommy agreed, feeling stupid because it didn't make sense to him, yet it all seemed so clear to everyone else.

At the long banquet table, the guests had prearranged seats. An officer's wife to Tommy's left and a politician on his right—and neither was interested in talking to Tommy. After the requisite pleasantries at the beginning of the meal, Tommy sat silently through cranberry salad, lobster bisque, and duck-in-orange. He wondered who had chosen such modern fare. His father preferred more traditional food—roast and potatoes—but maybe that would feel too provincial to the Sevenna crowd.

At the far end of the table, Bern was seated next to one of the girls who lived in Tauber Hall. Not Charlotte from his history class, but the girl with blond curls and a wide smile. Bern made no attempt to talk to her, which surprised Tommy. If she was here, that meant she was related to someone important. Tommy figured that would count for something, at least in Bern's twisted logic. But no, Bern spent all his time talking to Officer Sanneral on his right, and the girl looked as bored as Tommy felt. After she caught his eye for the second time, he made himself stop watching her. When the guests finally finished their dinner and were free to mill around before dessert, Tommy tried to find her.

She was standing at the open balcony doors and she startled when he said hello.

“I'm Tommy Shore,” he said. “I've seen you at Seminary. I live in Tauber Hall, too.”

“Yes,” she said pleasantly. “Kristin Anderson. I'm pleased to meet you.”

“Anderson … I think I met your father earlier. He was in my father's library when I arrived.”

“Yes, I met your father as well,” she said. Then she whispered: “Your father is scarier than mine.”

Her unexpected comment made Tommy laugh, which he tried to turn into a fake cough. He was embarrassed, but Kristin looked pleased with herself. She handed him a goblet of water from the refreshments table.

“You all right, Tommy?” she said. She had a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” he asked when he stopped coughing.

She squinted at him. “Sure, if you enjoy being ignored, it was great.”

“My brother's not so friendly, huh?” Tommy said.

“Your brother and all the other lads at Seminary,” Kristin said. “I must admit, it caught me completely off guard.”

“What did?” Tommy asked.

“How the lads treat us,” she said. “I didn't think they'd welcome us with a giant party, but I thought they'd play fair. Isn't that what they drill into us as children? That's what it's like on Norde anyway.”

“It's the same on Aeren,” Tommy said. “Whenever we went to children's parties, no one was allowed to be excluded or have anything better than anyone else.”

“Everyone got the same present and the same-size cake.” Kristin laughed.

“Everyone believed they were superior to their peers, but you weren't allowed to say it out loud,” Tommy continued, enjoying the conversation.

“When Ellie Hywell and I were studying last night, she called them—” Suddenly, Kristin stopped with a horrified look on her face.

“Ellie Hywel?” Tommy asked. “One of the other girls is related to Hywel? Who, your black-haired friend?”

He'd heard Charlotte's surname and it wasn't Hywel. So Ellie must be the slender girl with the braid. Hywel was a widower, but Tommy had heard that the former chief administrator was childless, which was frowned upon by the Zunft. One of the Zunft policies was for each family to have at least two children.

“I meant Ellie Sommerfield,” Kristin mumbled.

“You said Hywel…” Tommy said, and then it dawned on him why Kristin was so upset. She was standing in a room with Carvers, who disliked Mr. Hywel whether he'd been kidnapped or not. “Don't worry. I won't tell. I didn't know Hywel had a daughter.”

“He doesn't!” Kristin said. “She's his second cousin or something like that. When her father died, she became his ward. She was more like his personal secretary than a family member.”

“Why doesn't she want anyone to know?”

Kristin scowled at him. “Are you serious? Everyone hates us because we're girls. It would make it that much worse if people knew she was related to the cottager-loving Mr. Hywel.”

BOOK: The August 5
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