Conquest of Avalon

Eloise V: The Hunted

The shrine wasn’t much. It couldn’t be, really, when they’d get knocked down every time one of the Governor’s thugs got wind of one. Sometimes that was because they found it themselves, but usually someone tipped them off, hoping for a reward.

Nothing worse than a rat.

It wouldn’t do them any good anyway, not anymore. The Territorial Guardians had had to stop giving out rewards once they realized people were just setting up their own fakes and then reporting it for a few extra coins.

It wasn’t like the Guardians could know every hidden shibboleth; they certainly weren’t capable of grasping the difference between an old florin pressed into the clay of a brick before it hardened and, say, an engraving of a wolf chasing its tail, even if the latter was clearly making fun of them.

Prohibited, all of it, and battered apart with hammers the moment it became known, reward or no reward.

Still, it was a good way to make a few hundred dala while it lasted. The best part had been setting aside a few with more effort put into them, though, knowing she’d never be the one to leak it. That much, at least, she could still do.

Sharp wind whistled past blue stone, biting fall air warded off by a coat, cold as that left her nose. The old castle walls had largely been picked clean of anything intact enough to use and loose enough to take, but Eloise had only needed a few.

Yse had swung the hammer to smash them into shards, more as a favor than because he had any particular interest in it now that the money had dried up, and then Eloise had impressed the shards into the ground in a mosaic pattern, or at least an attempt at one.

It didn’t really look like the Blue Bandit, at least not the way she looked in the journal engravings or as a speck in the distance with a noose around her neck. But it at least captured a face in blue; it still stood for something.

And pressed low into the ground, maybe it would even survive the Guardians’ purges a little longer. Being out of the way on a random cliff would hopefully help too.

Then, when I come back to visit, I can still pay my respects.

That was why they didn’t want people doing this, really, why the Blue Bandit was lying in some unmarked patch of Fuite Gardens, packed into a row with countless others, rather than being granted even the most perfunctory freedom in death.

The Bandit, and everyone who helped her.

Eloise set down a final shard at an upright angle a few feet away from the meager shrine, supporting it from a distance far enough away to hopefully spare it, unlike the woman it represented.

“Looks good,” Claude noted as he came up from behind her, brushing fair hair from his face. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t save this design for somewhere it won’t be found. Looks like it took a lot of work.”

Didn’t I? “Yeah, no one ever comes here.”

Claude laughed as if she’d been making a joke. “Right. And that huge Vogel Day party isn’t going to have entire tents up here either. No way anyone would ever find it.”

Drat. Eloise glowered, imagining drunken snobs kicking the shrine apart, or worse. “It doesn’t matter anyway. As soon as I’m on that boat, the whole city might as well not exist, let alone a pile of rocks.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Yse and Margot that you said that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Claude shrugged. “You’re saying it like it’s a joke, but a part of me thinks you’re just telling the truth in a funny tone of voice and pretending it’s sarcasm.”

“I have never once in my life done any such thing,” she assured him. “And Margot knows the score; I explained the whole thing. The money she’s got now should keep her in that school through the year, and Captain Verrou told me we’ll definitely have done a job by then. But just in case—”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.” He turned his head back, sending his bangs running wild in the wind. “Ysengrin is going to want to know why you have to leave.”

“He’s a kid, he’ll get over it.” Safer for him not to know, the way things are headed. Working for Jacques was one thing—his runners were never in much danger since even if they got caught, the Guardians tended to go easier on children—but Robin Verrou was the most wanted man in Avalon. Better he know as little as possible.

“Mmm.” Claude sighed. “Alright, I want to know. Could you please do me that courtesy? I mean, Robin Verrou?”

“It’s not like he’s some stray arrow. Jacques was his partner for years, and even now they work together in some form.”

“I’m sure he’s the best pirate there ever was. It’s still a lot more danger for a little more money. I don’t get it.”

“Well, it’s a lot more money, for one thing. And split between everyone, rather than Jacques taking the lord’s portion.”

“Doesn’t do you any good if you’re dead.”

“Neither does anything I do here. This way I can accomplish something lasting, instead of just treading water, getting rooted in place. I’ve been surviving for years, and it isn’t good enough. Everything that sucks about the world stays exactly the same, and the more time passes, the more I’m stuck being a part of it.” Trapped. She forced a shrug, trying to make her words look less passionate. “Captain Verrou isn’t a mercenary like Jacques; he’s Avalon’s number one enemy.” She gestured to the blue stone below. “And still alive.”

Claude sighed again. “I guess I get it. If Robin Verrou can’t do it, no one can. Best chance at a change… Just be careful, alright? Being a pirate is a lot more dangerous than a ledgermaster, no matter how much silver you have to hide for Jacques. Don’t be reckless.”

“Yeah, that’s me, reckless. You’ve got me pegged, Claude.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d better get going. Thanks for keeping an eye on Margot.”

“Of course. Have fun on the high seas.”

≋

Dead.

Somehow, after all this time and everything she’d been through, another one of the few people who mattered was swinging from Avalon’s gallows.

And this time there’s no doubt it’s my fault.

She felt the cold air fill her lungs as she ran, feeling the uneven but familiar stone of the road beneath her feet.

A roar erupted from the seaside crowd of cretinous animals, happy to cheer for any blood at any cost. Perhaps they’d killed someone else, but it was just as likely they’d worked themselves up to it over nothing. As stupid as most people were alone, they degraded each other exponentially in crowds.

I should have thought of this. Claude had made it onto a ferry to a quiet beach town to the north to lay low, with a long-hauler ready to take him south to Plagette a few weeks after. Eloise had arranged that herself, using a trustworthy contact…

As if anyone’s capable of that kind of loyalty.

Still, the more likely possibility was that the fall of darkness had delayed or canceled the departure, and Anya Stewart had found him before he’d secured his own way out of town.

Or he just liked the easy living in Onès, and never bothered to try to find another way out. It wasn’t hard to imagine easy-going Claude doing that, delaying a day at a time until it was too late.

Perhaps Stewart had even tricked him, pretending to be the captain sent to extract him, until he was trapped aboard her own ship. Captain Verrou had warned his crew what she looked like and how she operated, but the Acolytes would normally have no need to learn such suspicion. Eloise hadn’t even heard of her before leaving Malin, and Claude likely wouldn’t have either.

And what of it? He shaped his own fate, the sum of all his actions and mistakes. I tried to help, but it wasn’t enough.

Since when was it my job to save people from their own stupidity?

Eloise’s foot slipped on one of the stones, cracked where slick ice had split it apart, and she nearly fell before righting herself.

But he never gave me up. He couldn’t have, considering Anya Stewart would never be stupid enough to hang him without first apprehending Eloise if she knew about her. The pirate-catcher could have just walked into Clochaîne Candles and grabbed her; it wasn’t as if anyone would have stopped her, especially with Cynette Fields to get her out without much disruption.

Claude had backed her up, kept her secrets, stood by her decisions…

That means something, even though it won’t save me.

The moment Jacques heard about Claude’s escape and capture, Eloise’s term of employment at Clochaîne Candles would be over, followed shortly by a similar terminus to her life.

So Eloise sucked in more air and kept running.

≋

“So, Eloise, have you given any more thought to that job offer?” Jacques leaned back in his seat, showing off the fancy gems on his rings as he placed his hands behind his head. “The books have never been the same since you left.”

“No, I figured I’d just give an answer without sparing it a second thought. Why complicate things by thinking?”

Jacques smiled at that. “I know you want your freedom, but Robin… As much as you two had in common, I don’t think his brand of recklessness ever suited you, let alone that idealism.”

Eloise shrugged. “I made out alright. Speaking of which…” She waved her hand out, inviting him to make the first offer.

“Of course.” Jacques leaned forward, setting his ringed fists down on the table imposingly. “You’d be doing the same thing as before, but you are more experienced now, which I think merits a 12% adjustment in payment.”

“50%,” she countered, folding her arms. “And I want a 40% cut of anything illicit I hide.”

Jacques blinked. “You have to know there’s no way I’m doing that. You always got bonuses for the black accounts. What’s to complain about?”

You, and the way you’re getting too paranoid.

Eloise smirked instead of giving anything away, leaning back. “Remember Claude? The Acolyte who stuck his nose in too far and got pinched by the Guardians for it? The one they’re about a day from hauling in and putting the screws to until he cries your name?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “I’m aware he’s an acquaintance of yours, but—”

“Already taken care of. Can’t have anyone catching on, right?” Which getting him out of town would do just as well, you stagnant old fool. “My gift to you.”

Jacques raised his eyebrows, but nodded after a moment. “Then thank you.”

“Show me that appreciation, then.”

He snorted, shaking his head slowly with a hint of smile. “30% adjustment of your base rate, with a 12% commission on the black books. Final offer.”

“Well, now that’s a bit more appealing.” Eloise kept her tone dry, maintaining an ambiguity about her sincerity. “I’ll have to think it over.”

Using it to squeeze him for more money felt good though. Even if she turned him down in favor of leaving, the decision would still come back to bite him.

And if this train heist goes right, I might never need to work again. There was a good chance it’d give enough to retire on with the right buyer, which wouldn’t be hard to find. Weapons always sold best of all of Avalon’s treasures, and this would mean selling them by the wagonload.

“You really did save me a lot of trouble,” Jacques mused idly. “When the Guardians are involved, everything comes under that much more scrutiny. Deny any connection, disavow all ties, ensure that they’re never found… Phillippe doesn’t have the stomach for it, so it always falls to me.”

“Yeah, the Guardians are a real crack team. It must be super hard to find one Acolyte before they can.”

“It’s doing it quietly that’s the issue.” He shrugged. “I was planning to send Mince to handle it; she’s the most experienced in these matters, but… Well, it’s best for Claude that you found him first. I’m sure it was cleaner that way.”

“Thirty people taking turns with rusty axes would do a cleaner job than Mince.” Really good thing Florette found us in time. “But I guess if finding someone fast is the highest priority, she’s got her uses.”

“That she does.” He scratched his chin. “She’s not going to be happy she was denied the chase.”

“Oh, how terrible. Poor, poor Mince doesn’t get to play with her food.” Eloise stood, readying herself to go. “I’ll let you know about the job. Meantime, keep things quiet. I hear there’s been problems with Acolytes getting involved in some seedy business. It’s a hard world out there for the humble, law-abiding businessman.”

Jacques let out a short laugh. “Certainly. But rewarding, should you choose to return to it.”

≋

Eloise couldn’t help but pant as she reached the threshold of the house she’d bought before she left, a place to keep Dad and a space for Margot away from school, though the latter had been more in theory than in practice until darkness fell.

Two stories of faded green wood were pinched between two smaller buildings on either side so tightly there wasn’t even an alley between them, but the windows on the second floor had glass. Of course, in this climate that was more of a hindrance than a luxury, but it wasn’t like the wood to keep the place warm was out of reach either. Though it could be now.

Once Eloise ascended the stairs, she threw the door open with a sloppy jerk of her arm. Why couldn’t the fucking stage coaches just use sturdier wheels or something? The ice slick isn’t that bad.

So much for all of Jacques’ horseshit about things still being normal.

No one seemed to be in the front room; the armchairs facing the hearth were empty save a half-open book on one arm. The candles on the wall were lit though, and the hearth was still roaring. In fact, it’s brighter than usual, like someone put too much fuel in.

“Time… to… go…” She sucked in more air, bending over, then called out once more. “Margot, we have to get out of here now. Come on.”

She wrenched herself forward, grabbing the railing next to the staircase up. “You’d better be packing.”

She considered sparing an instant to knock, then decided against it, pushing open Margot’s door and storming inside.

And of course the fucking room was empty.

Five more minutes of panicked searching revealed that the whole house was too, though the candles were lit throughout. Even Dad was gone, and he never left on his own.

Did Jacques manage to have someone beat me here? Eloise hadn’t been willing to risk using the tunnels, since they were a regular smuggling route at best and now often occupied by random wanderers too. Still, it seemed hard to believe. The way she’d had to come wasn’t that much slower. Unless he had advance notice about Claude… But then why wouldn’t he have killed her first?

There were no obvious signs of a break-in, no threatening notes, nothing. They were just gone.

Either they were all just off doing something else in freezing temperatures at the world’s worst possible time after leaving the house a mess, or Jacques already had them.

Although knowing Margot, there’s a chance of the former…

Eloise froze as she heard a familiar voice approaching from the street.

“...I’m just saying, she was supposed to be at that charity event. There’s a good chance she saw Claude before we did.” Ysengrin. His hair had darkened, and he wasn’t bothering with his usual eyepatch, probably only useful indoors these days, but it still looked like the same kid. “If she did, she’s miles away already. She was always best at cutting and running. Five florins says this place is empty when we get here.”

“I’ll take that bet. You’ve got her on too much of a pedestal. She couldn’t hack it as a pirate, couldn’t manage here. And when she comes stumbling home in a few hours, she won’t manage it anywhere else.” And that would be Mince. Of course. She was still taller than Yse, stalking slowly closer with menace in her eye. “All we need to do is grab the sister and sit on this place.

So they don’t have Margot…

As much of a relief as that was, it only raised further questions.

Eloise kept her ear primed as she crept up the staircase. Her best bet would be squeezing out the window in Margot’s room while they searched downstairs, since it would be hard to miss her sneaking out otherwise.

I just had to buy this stupid place before I knew how important alternate exits were. This whole thing just seemed like a great formula to end up with a broken leg, especially with no way to be sure how deep any snow was. And that was assuming no one heard her land.

But it’s that or practicing my farce routine by trying to sneak out the front door, maybe ducking behind a chair and hoping they don’t notice. No, unfortunately this was her best chance of getting out of here alive.

“Let me go in first? Antoine knows me, and Margot’s at least seen me before. Less chance of a scene.”

“You’ve got two minutes.”

Eloise squeezed through the half-open door to Margot’s room, careful not to make a sound. Since when does Yse know my father? It wasn’t like they’d met before she left.

She heard Yse’s footsteps on the wood, covering the bottom floor and then moving back towards the staircase.

Fuck, if he checks the room remotely thoroughly, I’m dead.

She could hear him approaching the door now.

Margot’s closet was closed, and knowing her possibly even locked. It certainly wouldn’t be a silent hiding place.

And if I jump now, Mince is right there to greet me.

Bereft of better options, she slinked next to the door just as she heard Ysengrin start to open it, with a loud creak that made her glad not to have nudged it on her way.

The door swung back, covering her. Hopefully. She reached for her knife as Yse set one foot inside the room, then another. She could just about make out what he was doing through the slice of space between the door and the wall where the hinges connected it.

He turned his head back and forth, searching, then walked up to the closet. “Margot?” He knocked his fist against the door, receiving no response. He tugged at the closet a few times, then seemingly gave up.

“Guess who owes me five florins?” he called down from the window. “All three are probably halfway to the Arboreum by now; we’re five minutes from the harbor.”

“Or out for a walk.” Mince shook her head. “You stay in the house, I’ll keep an eye on the street.”

Fuck.

If she never got out of the way, then—

Yse turned back from the window towards the doorway, staring directly at her.

Or maybe he’s just looking at the doorway? The thought seemed wishful, but he hadn’t called out yet…

He blinked as Eloise held her breath, keeping as still as she possibly could. At least I can manage that for a while. Before serving on a ship, she’d have been lucky to hold her breath for half of one minute, let alone the three she could manage now.

Stepping closer, Yse kept his eyes fixed at the door. He reached out one hand towards it—

And shoved the door up against the wall, squeezing Eloise in the middle.

Fuck, that hurt. The impact made her gasp out the air she’d been holding, but luckily the noise of that was lost in the sound of the impact.

“Just come inside,” Yse called down as he descended the stairs. “It’s cold as shit, and she left the hearth running when she left. It’s well stocked.”

Eloise breathed the quietest sigh of relief she could, then crept towards the window.

If I can climb around to the side, I can get to the roof of the place next door. That would hopefully let her avoid Mince’s sightline long enough to get away.

And after that?

Margot was nowhere to be seen, and once she came back from whatever stupid walkabout or criminal sale she was up to, Jacques’ deadliest lieutenant would be waiting in the wings.

A quick glance showed that Mince was out of sight, which meant she was probably under the porch roof.

Breathing steadily, she maneuvered one foot out of the window, finding footing on a slightly misaligned plank. It held the other foot as well, once she got it through, which meant that she could manage the slightest, slowest shuffle along the side, conscious every moment that a simple creak could spell her demise.

It was worse once she got far enough that holding the window wasn’t possible. There weren’t any good hand-holds, so she had to make do by just balancing. If I sneeze right now, it might spare Mince the trouble. After what felt like agonizing hours, the corner of the house was close enough to reach with her fingertip. A few shuffles more and she had a real handhold again, which made the final stretch much easier.

The other roof wasn’t exactly flat, but the drop was only a few feet, which meant she could lower herself down for footing slowly instead of having to make a potentially-noisy jump.

Hugging the corner, she crouched down, then removed one leg from her foothold on the house. She was barely tall enough for her toe to tap the roof below. Fortunately. Her other leg soon followed, and then she could let go of the green house.

Now all she had to do was shuffle across the rooftop long enough to find a hidden way down, and—

A hand closed around her ankle, tugging her off the roof.

Eloise barely had time to think before her side erupted with pain. In an instant, she was half buried in the snow, groaning, as Mince’s smug face smiled down at her.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”