The boy just shrugged again, and Hektor sighed. “You gave it away, didn’t you?” he asked.
“To Rosie.”
With a shake of his head, Hektor reached into his pouch for another pennybit, then stopped as Aiden’s hand came down heavily on his arm.
“Rosie earns her own money,” he said shortly.
Both younger brothers nodded in resentful obedience, but when Aiden turned his back, Hektor quietly added a pennybit anyway.
“Who’re we to stand in the way of true love,” he whispered, smiling as the comment caused Padreic to redden. “Are you sweepin’ up at the watchhouse today, Paddy?” he asked loudly to cover up the movement.
“ ’Course I am,” the boy declared at once. “Today’s postin’ day.”
“I thought you were doin’ deliveries for the bakery this mornin’,” their mother said with a frown.
“Traded with Ollie so as I could be at the watchhouse.”
“The captain may not post today,” Hektor warned him, casting a quick look for Aiden, but their elder brother was now deep in conversation with their grandfather and was at least pretending not to hear them.
“He’ll post,” Padreic insisted. “Aiden’ll make sergeant an’ I’ll come on as watchhouse runner, you’ll see.”
Hektor frowned down at him. “Maybe. But all the same, keep quiet about it till then, all right?”
“But Hek ...”
“No buts. Now hurry up or we’ll be late.”
Padreic obediently set the ball to one side and stood.
“Tell your brothers to be careful today,” their mother called after them as Aiden joined them at the door. “I don’t hold with double shifts, whatever the pay might be, and I don’t want ’em so tired that they slip up.”
“We’ll tell ’em.”
“And you be careful, too. Things might get out of hand out there.”
“We know.”
“Then know safer.”
The three Dann boys took the tenement stairs two at a time, emerging into the bright sunlight a moment later. The Iron Street watchhouse was ten long blocks away, and they walked quickly, nodding to their neighbors as they went. The Danns had lived on Iron Street for as long as there’d been a street and had served at the Iron Street watchhouse for as long as there’d been a watchhouse. Ordinarily the street would be bustling with people at this time of the morning, all talking and trading, arguing and calling out their own greetings, but the fire had cast a pall of nervous suspicion over the entire neighborhood. All eyes tracked their progress and Hektor did his best to ignore the growing sense of unrest until a burly figure stepped in front of them. Beside him, he felt his older brother stiffen.
“Mornin’, Linton,” Hektor said casually.
“Mornin’, Watchmen.” The large, beefy mastersmith cocked his head to one side.
“You an’ your brother gonna be guardin’ the iron market rebuild today, Corporal?” he asked Aiden pointedly.
Aiden’s expression hardened. “That’ll be up to the captain,” he answered in a neutral tone.
The smith spat a gob of spittle onto the cobblestones. “Yeah, well, the captain’s not from around here, is he? He’s only been on the job a few months. Hope he’s got enough sense to do what’s expected of ’im. I hear it’s postin’ day an’ all.”
“Maybe.”
“Figure he’ll name you sergeant now that your Da’s gone?”
Aiden gave a noncommittal shrug, but Hektor saw a muscle in his jaw begin to jump. “Hard to say,” he answered stiffly.
“ ’Course he will,” Padreic replied, then yelped as Aiden clipped his ear.
“I only ask ’cause the whole street wants to know,” the smith continued, ignoring Aiden’s warning expression. “The fire hurt a lot of families here. We wanna know there’ll be justice done on account of most folk think it was a Candler’s Row crew what set the fire in the first place.”
“The Guard investigated an’ said it was an accident,” Hektor said at once.
“An’ rumor-mongerin’ ain’t ’elpin’ any,” Aiden added darkly.
“It ain’t rumor-mongerin’, it’s belief. An’ a belief shared by half the Iron Street Watch if they was to own up to it,” the smith snarled in reply, jabbing a finger at him. “Your own Da suspected a Candler’s Row crew of sowin’ nails into the ground around the market last year what gave Charlie Woar the gangrene an’ lost him his leg. An’ as I remember, Aiden Dann, you wasn’t too high an’ mighty back then to go up there an’ settle the score with your fists.”
“That was then, Linton,” Aiden growled. “Times have changed.”
“Not by that much, they ain’t.”
“Then they’d better start. Anyone headin’ over to Candler’s Row is gonna get their heads busted by the Watch, you hear?” Aiden glared around the street, daring anyone to gainsay him.
“Your Da woulda seen to it by now,” the smith pointed out. “Course your Da woulda made captain afore the inquiry caused some fool incomer to be brought in,” he added. “That’s when all this trouble started.”
Aiden’s face darkened dangerously. “Get out of our way, Linton,” he grated.
The smith’s eyes narrowed, but he stepped aside as Aiden pushed past him. When the other two made to follow, he caught Hektor by the arm. “No one blames Aiden for your Da not gettin’ that promotion,” he hissed, “nor for the fire neither, but it’s up to you lot to do somethin’ about it; not the Guard, you, the Danns. Don’t forget where you live, boy.”
Hektor shook him off. “We live in Haven, Linton,” he snarled. “Don’t you forget that.” But his expression mirrored the smith’s as he followed Aiden up the street.
The Iron Street watchhouse was crowded with watchmen, both on duty and off, when they arrived. Gesturing Padreic toward a broom, Aiden stalked past them, but Hektor paused, glancing at the captain’s closed door with a frown. “Has he posted yet?”
As one, the gathered shook their heads.
“It outta be Aiden,” one of the older men said quietly. “Course, it’s anyone’s guess what the captain’ll do, bein’ ... you know, from outside and all, but it outta be Aiden.”
Hektor nodded, then turned as Jakon and Raik pushed their way through the crowd toward him.
“How’re the streets last night?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“Tense,” Jakon answered. “People are huddlin’ in the taverns, just sitting there an’ talkin’.”
“An’ everyone falls quiet when we go by,” Raik added.
“Everyone always falls quiet when we go by,” Hektor reminded them. “We’re the Watch.”
“Not like this,” Raik argued. “It’s like everyone’s watchin’ us, waitin’ to see what we’re gonna do about the fire.”
“Waitin’ to see what Aiden’ll do mostly,” Jakon amended.
“Aiden’s not gonna do anythin’,” Hektor said firmly. “It was an accident.”
“Nobody’s believes that, Hek. Hell, even I don’t believe it.”
“And maybe Aiden should do somethin’ about it, anyway,” Raik added. “I mean, we can’t just sit back and let this sort of thing happen again. We have to protect the street.”
“It was an accident,” Hektor repeated.
Neither brother looked convinced.
“Think the captain’ll post today?” Raik asked, changing the subject.
Hektor just shrugged.
“Think he’ll make Aiden sergeant after the inquiry an’ all?”
Hektor sighed. “I dunno, Raik,” he said.
“Anything you do know, Hek?”
“Yeah. I know Ma said to be careful.”
Both brothers gave an equal snort. “We will.”
With it clear that the captain was not going to post that morning, most of the watchmen disappeared swiftly. Hektor was on his way out the door with his patrol mate, Kiel Wright, when the captain stuck his head out his office door. Signaling Kiel to wait, he gestured Hektor inside.
Captain Travin Torell was an older man with a more refined air than most of the Iron Street watchmen. Originally from Breakneedle Street—one wall and an entire world away—he’d served as that watchhouse’s
