Gwen turned from the window. “But I have gold.”
“That’s great, Gwen. Buy yourself a nice dress or something.” Jollin crawled back into the bed and reached for the covers.
“But you don’t understand-”
“I do understand. It’s you who keeps thinking there is somewhere better than this. Yeah, Grue can be a bastard, but there are plenty of things worse than him. Trust me. I know. As much as we hate it here, the truth is that if we leave, it’s almost certain we’ll die. You know this better than any of us.”
Gwen nodded. “You’re right.” She slapped her arms against her sides and nodded again. “You’re absolutely right.”
“What do you know? She can be reasoned with.”
Jollin pulled the covers over her head and used a pillow to deafen the sound of the hammering.
“Is that pounding keeping you awake?” Gwen asked. “Jollin, do you know what that is? That’s Stane fixing the door I busted.”
“So?” She lowered the covers to peer at her.
“So he’s got money, and Grue plans on letting him have you.”
All the color drained from Jollin’s face. She slowly sat up. “Me?”
“He’ll beat her to death,” Etta said with a lisp that made the word death sound like deaf, and coming from that busted mouth it was more than just words.
“Yeah, he will, and she won’t be the last-unless we leave … now.”
“But you almost died when you tried, and Hilda-”
“Both Hilda and I made the same mistake … We tried to make it on our own. Plus Hilda only had a few coppers, so she was stranded on the street, and when I ran, I didn’t have my coins … They were hidden up here. With them we can get our own place-a safe place. So what if no one will hire us. Who cares! Grue makes good money from us, and Hilda had the right idea about keeping it all. We can start our own place. Individually none of us can survive-that’s what I didn’t understand-but together we have a chance. Certainly a better chance than hoping that Stane will lose his job or become a human being.”
Gwen looked around and could see them weighing the possibilities.
“Look, I’m going to get the money. Those who want to come with me, have your stuff packed, because if we are going to do this, it’s got to be now.”
Gwen rushed out of the room, as much to avoid any questions as to leave before Stane finished. Truth was, the idea had only just come to her, and she was a long way from fitting all the pieces into place.
Thud, thud, thud. Stane was on his knees hammering the pale new plank against the frame. He smiled at her. “I’m almost done here. Gonna have a little fun after I-”
Gwen stepped into the little room across from him and slammed the door behind her. She waited with her back against it, making sure he didn’t follow. She heard the scrape of a planer and guessed she was safe … for now. The little bedchamber didn’t have a bolt like the other room, which had always been a problem. She’d never checked the money in the daylight, and she wasn’t just checking this time.
She crossed the room, dragged the table out of the way, and pried up the board, praying. That she had managed to keep them hidden for so long, right under Grue’s nose, had been a miracle. The men knew to pay Raynor directly, but some of the better ones tipped. It was never more than a copper or two, and Grue let them keep what was given. But he had no idea of the fortune she kept under the bedroom floor. Had he known, he would’ve killed her for them himself.
The board popped up, and the bag was there. She’d sewn it from the sleeve that Gideon Hawk had torn off her dress the night he’d had eight drinks instead of the usual four. At last count she had had forty-five copper dins in addition to the four gold tenents. A weighty sum and more than just her life’s savings-it was a sacred treasure. She stuffed the pouch between her breasts and went back out.
Stane was swinging the door open and closed, checking the clearance as she walked past. “Tell Jollin to brush her hair but leave it down.”
When Gwen entered the bedroom, the girls were all up and waiting-every one of them.
“Gwen,” Etta said, “I don’t know what in the kingdom you were thinking when you told us to pack our stuff-you know we ain’t got no stuff.”
“Dear blessed Maribor, Gwen,” Jollin whispered. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Just follow me.”
They were all barefoot. Grue never saw the point in shoes, but seven women descending the wooden steps were about as quiet as a runaway wagon.
“What’s going on?” he said, coming out of the little storeroom near the kitchen, just as Gwen pulled open the door.
She stopped short, pushing the rest of them out to the porch, where they stood confused. The cats had turned into ducklings and Gwen their reluctant mother, standing between them and a vicious dog. “I warned you. Now we’re leaving.”
“God, you’re a stupid whore! I just got done telling ya-there’s no place for you to go. This is the only place any of ya have. But go on. You all go ahead and leave. Go wander around town awhile. When you get tired-when it’s dark and cold and you’re hungry-you’ll realize just how good you had it and will come right back. But know this: When you do, you’ll stop this nonsense and do as I say. Oh, and I’ll be getting the belt out again for causing so much trouble.”
Gwen stepped outside and closed the door.
Her hands were shaking and the tremor traveled the length of her body until she thought she might collapse right there on the porch.
“Where are we going, Gwen?” Abby asked.
“You don’t know, do you?” Jollin said.
“You wouldn’t do that to us, would you?” Mae asked. “Get Raynor mad like that and not have someplace to go?”
Rose touched Gwen on the arm, those big doe eyes focused on her. “Please tell us. Where are we going?”
Gwen stood shivering, her back to the door. The sun was finally high enough to erase the shadows cast by The Hideous Head, and across from Wayward Street stood the dilapidated inn.
“There.” Gwen pointed.
“You’re crazy,” Jollin said.
“Maybe.” Gwen nodded. “But it’s better than being dead.”
CHAPTER 5
Thought something might have happened to you,”-Sebastian said the next morning as Hadrian stepped onto the deck. “Eugene tried your room, but your door was locked and you didn’t answer.”
Hadrian glanced up at the sky. The sun was nearly overhead.
They were all up and gathered in the middle of the boat again, except the fellow in the hood, who remained aloof and at that moment was nowhere to be seen. Vivian sat in the center of them, wearing Hadrian’s cloak and a pleasant smile.
“I stayed up late. Must have slept in.” He sounded guilty, like a kid accused of laziness.
“Well, I barely got a wink myself,” Sebastian said.
“I don’t think any of us slept much,” Samuel added.
Hadrian reached into a bucket hanging from the rail and caught enough water to wipe his face. He stretched and yawned. Waking up late always left him feeling tired and sluggish. He had spent most of the night with the door to his room open and an eye on the tiny corridor leading to the other cabins. He watched the lamp sway for hours but never saw anyone. Finally, as the sun came up, he had locked his door and crawled into bed, feeling foolish.
Hadrian sat down next to Eugene. The youngest merchant had his hands fanned out and stared at them admiringly. His nails were ragged and dirty, so Hadrian guessed he was looking at his rings. With three on each hand, he had almost as many as Sebastian. Hadrian didn’t wear rings. He never saw the point. A wealthy warlord gave him one once, but Hadrian hadn’t liked the way it interfered with his grip, and he left it as a tip for a barmaid. He imagined that, being jewelers, the men with him had different opinions.