The August Five Part 4

"Yes," Tommy said, handing the man a coin as Bern brushed past them and stomped up the plank in search of a coffee.

Bern went into the lounge, but Tommy opted for a secluded bench near the boat's stern where he could avoid other travelers. He was too nervous about Seminary to try to carry on small talk with strangers. Of the four main islands, Aeren and Sevenna Island were closest to each other so it should be less than an hour's run to the capital. If everything ran smoothly, Tommy would have time to eat potato pancakes at his favorite restaurant near Seminary Square before signing in with the head porter and seeing his new room. Though technically he could choose one of two specialties-jurisprudence or engineering-his father had made it clear ages ago that both boys were going to study engineering, even though neither had a natural apt.i.tude for mathematics.

As he watched the green sh.o.r.es of Aeren fade in the distance, Tommy remembered a beautiful tune that Mrs. Trueblood had taught him when he was a boy.

"Alas, the emerald land of our fathers gone / Forlorn the empty hallowed home / King of Grief with golden crown / By the fields of Aeren, I am struck down," Tommy sang to himself.

A shadow fell across the deck and Bern stood next to him holding a copy of the Chronicle.

"Are you singing a cottager tune?" Bern asked. "I'd be careful with that if I were you. In fact, I'd forget everything Mrs. Trueblood ever taught you."

Tommy scanned the deck, but no one was near enough to hear what he'd said. Bern was right. He'd have to watch what he said now that he'd be living in the capital. On Aeren, he spent more time around cottagers than with other sons of the Zunft. That wouldn't be true anymore.

"What does the paper say?" Tommy asked.

"Father got the Ancestral Homes Act pa.s.sed," Bern said. His brother sat down beside him to read the paper. He had to fold the pages in half to keep them from blowing in the wind.

"I heard Mrs. Trueblood talking about that," Tommy said. "They have to carry identification now, right?"

"Yes, but that's not really the point," Bern said. "He wants the cottagers to go back to working the estates. If an Aeren cottager is caught in Sevenna, he'll be sent home. I guess we won't have so many empty cottages along Miller's Road. Oh, and Hywel is still missing."

"There's no sign of him at all?" Tommy asked.

"I can't believe that he didn't go back to Sevenna for the Chamber session," Bern said. "How could someone neglect his duties in a time of crisis?"

"Maybe he got hurt," Tommy said.

Bern rolled his eyes. "Then why didn't he send a messenger to say so?"

"Can I see the paper?" Tommy asked.

Bern handed Tommy the Chronicle, and Tommy glanced at the headlines-"Trials Set for the Rebel Leaders!" "More Arrests Expected!" "The Grand Customs House to Reopen!" He handed the paper back to Bern.

"Did you hear that they let girls into the Seminary?" Bern asked. "They're supposedly math geniuses, and some professor wanted them in the engineering program. They had to close off an entire floor of one of the residence halls to accommodate three girls. It's a travesty."

"It says that in the Chronicle?" Tommy asked. He never read the society pages, which were usually vapid news for ladies about social gatherings.

"No, one of the lads told me last night. It was some clause tacked onto Hywel's Open Education Act. No one really noticed until the girls started asking about their domiciles."

Bern spoke the last sentence in an annoying falsetto, batted his eyelashes, and used the newspaper as a pretend fan. Embarra.s.sed, Tommy stood up to get away from his brother and noticed two dark shadows on the horizon.

"What's that?" Tommy asked, pointing in the distance.

"Uh, ships?" Bern said dismissively, but then the rumble of the steamer's engines abruptly stopped beneath their feet. The steamer bobbed up and down, drifting sideways. The black-haired porter dashed around the corner and barely acknowledged them as he barreled past.

"The captain wants all pa.s.sengers inside the lounge," the cottager called over his shoulder.

Bern made a rude gesture at the porter's back. "Then the captain can tell me himself."

The two ships on the horizon sailed closer. Both were traveling at high speed. The ship in front was an expensive schooner, the kind favored by Zunftmen. Colston Sh.o.r.e himself had a similar model, which was the most expensive ship designed by the Bureau of Innovations. Strangely, the schooner was being tailed by a turret ship from the Zunft Navy, and only favorable winds allowed it to evade the more powerful navy ship for as long as it did. As the turret ship closed in, dozens of people gathered on the deck of the schooner. Someone began shooting at the navy ship with a single-shot rifle, which seemed insane considering the thick metal plating attached to its hull.

"Why is the schooner shooting the navy ship?" Tommy asked. "Aren't they both Zunft? Maybe we should go inside."

"Let's go talk to the captain," Bern said, and they followed the railing around to the other side of the ferry and entered the lounge. Inside, the pa.s.sengers were lined up at the windows, watching the strange spectacle play out a short distance away.

"I'm not sure it's much safer in here," Tommy muttered.

A pa.s.senger cried out as the turret ship launched a shot from the long cannon on its prow. The first cannonball missed the schooner and splashed into the waves, but the second cannonball struck the ship's side and ripped a smoking hole in her hull. The schooner tipped dangerously, and the people on the deck began jumping into the water. The captain appeared in the doorway, and pa.s.sengers turned to him for answers.

"Everyone settle down," the captain said. "The navy is handling the situation. We'll be on our way soon."

"What is the situation?" Bern asked.

"Cottagers stole a ship," the captain replied. "The navy is recovering it."

Over the captain's shoulder, Tommy could see the schooner slipping below the water. The white prow jutted above the surface for a moment before it disappeared from sight. A whirlpool of white-capped waves churned where the ship had gone below. Numerous survivors thrashed in the water, trying to keep their heads above the rough seas.

"Are we going to help rescue them?" Tommy asked. The deck below him began to vibrate as the steamer engines rumbled back to life.

"Who?" the captain asked.

"The people in the water," Tommy said.

"Well, the navy is here to arrest them," he said. "We can't be involved in that."

"The captain has a schedule to keep," Bern said.

"Of course we do," the captain said. "This isn't the first stolen ship the navy has had to deal with. Since the Ancestral Homes Act pa.s.sed, cottagers without paper work are leaving the city in droves. They'd rather flee than face arrest."

When the captain left, Bern whispered to Tommy, "Like rats fleeing a sinking ship."

Tommy didn't laugh. He'd swum in the Aeren Sea many times and knew how cold the cottagers must be right now. Their ferry continued toward Sevenna, and Tommy returned to his bench. He watched the turret ship, hoping to see the cottagers get rescued from the water. By the time the ship disappeared in the distance, not a single lifeboat had been launched. As their ferry sailed into Sevenna Harbor, Tommy wondered how long the cottagers would be able to endure the cold, rolling waves and whether they would finally be saved.

Inside the Seminary, Tommy closed the shutters of his dorm room to block out the sounds of the noisy city. His suite was on the top floor of Tauber Hall, which was in the western sector of the walled campus. From his window, he had a wide panorama of the city, with its smokestacks and ugly stone buildings. He could see the murky Lyone River snaking through the district, and he had a clear view of one of Sevenna's seven historic bridges, but he wasn't sure which one.

He hadn't spent much time in the city in recent years, and was surprised at how different it felt. When they arrived at the docks, throngs of cottagers waited for a place on the steamer back to Aeren. Zunft soldiers with chatter-guns patrolled the streets. On the carriage ride north through the city, Tommy counted dozens of beggars, including young children who stared at him with vacant eyes. He'd never seen beggars north of the Lyone River before, and he was surprised that the Zunft allowed them to cross the river into North Sevenna.

The Seminary campus was enclosed by high stone walls. Students had to enter through gates that were monitored by guards. Once inside, Tommy felt more relaxed. The Seminary had numerous gra.s.sy sports fields and immaculate gardens, which made it tolerable to live there, but all he had to do was look out his window to see the squalor and unhappiness of the rest of Sevenna. Tommy finished putting his books on the shelves and turned the gas fire down. His rooms were outfitted with the latest innovations, including heated water and an automatic fireplace. The small kitchenette even had an icebox, hot plate, and kettle. Tauber Hall had been recently refurnished, and he wondered if Bern's digs over in Sachsen Hall were as nice. Tommy a.s.sumed they must be. With the Zunft's acute sense of fairness, there would be riots if some boys got better accommodations than others.

Tommy put on his crimson Seminary jacket and headed into the corridor. It was nearly six p.m. and everyone was required to be in their seats in the dining hall before the bell chimed. Tommy trotted down the polished mahogany staircase, glancing briefly at the parade of oil paintings of various Zunftmen that hung on the wooden paneling. Earlier that summer, his father had commissioned his official portrait. Before, it might have been hung somewhere like Tauber Hall, but now that he was chief administrator, his portrait would find a home in a government building, probably the Chamber itself.

At the bottom of the staircase, he was startled to hear the sounds of girls laughing. There were three young women heading out the front door. Two of them were blond, one tall and willowy and the other shorter with long, corkscrew curls. The third was a slender, black-haired girl with a thick braid down her back. Their laughter sounded nervous and excited, which was precisely how Tommy felt. At least he knew Bern and would have a familiar face to sit with at the first dinner of the new school year. These were the first girls ever to be matriculated in Seminary. The Zunft did not change easily, and the girls represented Hywel's politics of openness. Undoubtedly, there would be some students and professors alike who didn't appreciate their presence. Tommy thought about Hywel's legacy as he walked to the dining hall. Hywel had tried to accommodate the cottagers, and Tommy felt sad that his attempt had failed so spectacularly. Colston Sh.o.r.e would not be conciliatory toward them, of that Tommy was sure.

The dining hall was on the other side of the Green, a large gra.s.sy rectangle with elm trees planted along the perimeter. While in most gardens and other green areas of the Seminary grounds foot traffic was prohibited except along designated paths, the Green was open for students. The girls followed the path along the edge, but Tommy cut straight through the middle. Bern was waiting for him near the front entrance of the dining hall, where the heavy wooden doors were propped open to let in the cool evening air. There were twenty-four round wooden tables with white tablecloths. Tommy checked for name plates when they entered, but there were none. Apparently, you could sit wherever you wanted, but many of the tables near the front were already full.

"Come on, they're saving us a seat," Bern said, leading Tommy toward the front of the hall. A group of boys were laughing loudly, but they stopped as the brothers approached the table.

"This is your twin, Bern?" someone asked. "Maybe one of you got switched at birth."

"He's the evil half," Bern said. "They make 'em small and dark to blend in with the shadows."

This made everyone howl with laughter, and Tommy joined in even though it wasn't that funny.

"Kristoph. Giles. Frank. Dennett." Bern pointed at each boy in turn. "This is Tommy."

There was another round of h.e.l.los. Outside, the bells began to chime. Tommy took the empty chair between Frank and Giles.

"What hall are you in, Tommy?" Giles asked.

"Tauber," Tommy said.

"Oh, unlucky for you," Giles said.

"Why?" Tommy asked.

"The girls are in your hall," Giles said. "Your head boy, Richie Meagan, already said he wouldn't partic.i.p.ate in the compet.i.tion between halls because they're living under his roof. You're going to miss all the fun."

"That's stupid," Tommy said.

"Maybe you can ask for a suite in a different hall," Giles said.

Tommy had meant that Richie Meagan was stupid, but he decided not to clarify that to Giles. He didn't really care about the compet.i.tion anyway. Bern had described it to him, and it involved playing games of shirtless Litball during rainstorms and other dumb pranks. Being a.s.signed to Tauber Hall didn't seem so unlucky to him.

"Speaking of trouble," Giles said, nodding toward the entrance of the dining hall. The three girls from Tauber Hall had chosen seats at a table in the far corner near the door, but as soon as they sat down, the boys already at the table stood up en ma.s.se and walked away, leaving the three girls alone. The two blond girls looked mortified, but the black-haired girl was obviously furious. She stared defiantly around the hall, as if daring someone to say something to her.

"Of all the years to let them in, it had to be this one," Dennett said, staring at the girls. Like Bern, he had an athletic build, as if he spent a lot of time rowing or playing Litball.

"There's only one thing girls are good for," Frank said.

"And it isn't math!" Kristoph replied. The table erupted in laughter. Bern seemed to think it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Tommy's lips curled into a smile automatically because it was expected of him, but he turned his attention to the raised dais with a black ruffle where the professors sat facing the students. There were twelve men in black robes with blue stripes, which meant they were all tenured professors. The junior professors must eat somewhere else.

The headmaster of the school, a soft-looking man named Otto Olberg, stood behind a podium at the center of the table. Even though the hall had already quieted down, he rang a small bell to get the students' attention.

"Welcome, new and returning students," he said. "These are troubling times, and I'm grateful for the skillful leadership that has ended the violence and allowed us to open our doors on schedule, as we have for the past century."

A smattering of applause led by the professors echoed through the hall, but it was abruptly silenced when the side door opened. Two Zunft soldiers entered the hall, followed by Colston Sh.o.r.e. Immediately, everyone in the room stood up out of respect for this obviously important guest. Zunft leaders historically used the opening night of Seminary for important speeches, so this shouldn't have been a surprise, but Tommy hadn't expected to see Colston on his very first day in Sevenna. Having the chief administrator as his father was going to take some getting used to.

Headmaster Olberg waited until Colston Sh.o.r.e was next to him at the podium. He gestured for the students to sit down.

"Please welcome the chief administrator," Olberg said, and then he shook Colston's hand. This time the applause was more enthusiastic. Olberg took his seat, and Colston held his hands up for silence.

"I look at the young men of Seminary, and I see the future of the Zunft." Colston's voice rang out through the hall. "The rebels are trying to take the future from you. A future you deserve. A future that is your birthright!"

The hall erupted into thunderous applause again, and Colston waited until it died down.

"I believe in the traditions of the Zunft. I believe in hard work and fair play. I believe that it is the estate system that made us a prosperous and generous people. We need to return to the bedrock of our beliefs. We need to restore the glory of the Zunft!

"When I was young, cottagers slaughtered families in Aeren's central valley. I remember the specter of violence hanging over what should have been an idyllic childhood. I desperately wanted to save the next generation of children from those fears. The recent violence has revealed the cottagers' true nature. Some may hide their nature under a veneer of cooperation, but every one of them is capable of turning on us when we least expect it."

The generalization made Tommy uncomfortable. He'd seen the blast at Port Kenney, of course, but that was done by only a handful of cottagers. It didn't mean that every single one of them was violent. Mrs. Trueblood certainly wasn't. His father paused for dramatic effect and glanced around the room, making eye contact with students throughout the hall. Colston Sh.o.r.e was an accomplished public speaker and his words were having an effect on Tommy's fellow students.

"Toulson Hywel considers himself to be a compa.s.sionate man. But his cottager sympathies have diminished the strength of the Zunft, and if we don't stand together, we will fall to those who seek to destroy us. Hywel created a culture of dependency that eroded the cottagers' work ethic. When people begin to feel ent.i.tled to something that they did not earn, society falters."

Tommy thought about the cottager girl in the lavender dress. She had been on his mind a lot since the August Rising. Had she been a victim? Or the enemy? He wondered if she had healed from her injuries.

"The five surviving ringleaders of the August Rising have been apprehended. They will receive justice! The previous administration were apologists. Despite all of the accommodations, their policies were unjust because they asked more of cottagers than they are inherently capable of understanding. Our economy has been crushed under the weight of unsound policies, but no more. We will make sure that your legacy is strengthened.

"I won't lie to you. There will be some turmoil as I enforce the natural laws. You must not do anything that compromises the integrity of the Zunft. You all know what's expected of you. You know what kind of men you should be. Study hard and become the leaders you were meant to be."

When he said this, he was staring directly at his sons. Tommy felt like everyone in that hall was staring at him, judging him.

"Heritage, honor, good health!" Colston called the Zunft slogan from the podium.

Everyone stood up simultaneously and echoed Sh.o.r.e's words: "Heritage, honor, good health!"

"Who provides these gifts?" Colston asked.

"The Zunft! The Zunft! The Zunft!" Tommy felt silly standing there shouting with all the other lads, but his father would see him if he didn't.

As the shouts died down, Headmaster Olberg accompanied Colston Sh.o.r.e off the dais. The two stood conversing by the door while everyone sat down. The men shook hands, and then his father left without another glance in his sons' direction. Olberg motioned to the headwaiter, and servers moved in from the archways with covered silver platters. The servers were cottagers, of course, and their faces were as still as statues.

9.

THE SINKING OF THE JUBILEE.

Seventeen people lost their lives when the Zunft Navy sunk the sailing vessel known as the Jubilee. The owner of the ship acknowledges that the cottagers worked for his estate but denied giving them permission to take the ship. The Zunft Navy reports their rescue efforts failed because the ship ran into a reef and sank too quickly.

-JFA Bulletin, September 3 The stack of dirty dishes teetered near Tamsin's elbow and she lunged to catch them before they fell. There wasn't nearly enough counter s.p.a.ce to accommodate the mess created by the constant stream of patrons. Tamsin was working a shift at the Plough and Sun, and despite the hours of work ahead of her, she was thrilled to finally be up from her sickbed and able to pay the Leahys back for their hospitality. It was good to have something to think about besides her father being locked up in the Zunft Compound and how much she missed her family on Aeren.

Tamsin had been so occupied washing plates that she hadn't noticed the fire in the iron woodstove had burned down to embers. She needed hot water for washing, but when she checked the box by the door, her wood supply was almost gone. Navid, who was supposed to be keeping her supplied with logs, had been called away on an errand. Slipping on her coat, Tamsin headed outside to get wood herself.

It was misty and cold, and the tiny yard was as muddy as a bog. Mr. Leahy had laid planks as a walkway to the woodshed, but the boards were slick from an earlier rain. She shouldn't be lifting too much weight-not with the sutures in her side, but Tamsin didn't want the fire to go out. She was leaning over awkwardly to lift one of the logs when she heard a voice behind her.

"Can I help?" asked a tall young man with gla.s.ses and brown hair that flopped over his forehead. He was standing near the gate and she couldn't make out his features. As he drew closer she realized that it was Gavin Baine. He was the editor of the recently launched JFA Bulletin, the first attempt at a cottager newspaper since the August Rising, which had prompted the Zunft to crack down on all underground presses. Navid had pointed him out to her in the pub last week, but she hadn't been introduced to him yet.

"No, I can manage on my own," Tamsin lied. "You're Gavin, right? I'm Tamsin Henry."

"Yes-yes, I am," Gavin stammered. He seemed surprised that she knew his name.

"I think you worked with my father," Tamsin said. "Aren't you a journalist, too?"

"Um, yes," Gavin said. "I knew Michael quite well. I'm sorry for everything that's happened."