addressed Tom first. “An expedition of this nature cannot be undertaken without Family approval. The Company would need an official charter, issued by Sartori Carrente, giving us the right to embark on the journey, the right to claim the land we settle in the Carrente Family name. The charter can be written in such a way as to legally cede the land to the guildmembers and the guild.”
Before Tom could respond, the Signal shifted his attention to Sartori. “And I believe, given the… misunderstanding that occurred because of your association with ‘Shay Jones,’ that Sartori could be persuaded to decrease the Carrente Armory’s presence in the expedition. As a sign of renewed trust and good faith?”
Sartori bristled, then caught and held Daverran’s gaze. “And what rights would the Company receive from this… venture?”
Daverren smiled. “The trade rights, of course. With exclusive claim to the town and its immediate vicinity for use by the West Wind Trading Company, under the Carrente Family name.”
“A percentage of the trade to be extended to the Family.”
“Of course.”
But Sartori still hesitated.
Daverren shifted closer and lowered his voice. “There is little risk to you or the Family. The risk falls on the Company. And it has the advantage that it will resolve your problem with those in Lean-to without disgracing the Family name. Forcibly removing-or killing-that many guildsmen can only hurt your endeavors in the Court, and at a time such as this…”
Sartori winced and turned away, moving toward the fireplace. He stared down into its depths, lamplight flickering on either side of him.
“If the expedition is to go forward,” he said grudgingly, “there would have to be a Carrente Family representative in the group, in addition to a… minimal Armory contingent.”
Daverren relaxed, tension draining from his shoulders. “The Company will have a presence as well. You’ll have the appropriate papers drawn up?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Daverren began rolling up the map. “We can discuss the particulars later.”
“I’ll have to discuss it with those in Lean-to,” Tom said suddenly. “Those that I can trust. They may not all agree.”
“Of course,” Daverren said. “But I think you’ll find you have little choice.”
The Signal made ready to leave, Sartori still deep in thought. When it became clear that the Proprietor had forgotten him, Tom stepped forward, catching Sartori’s attention.
“You haven’t made a decision about my son.”
“Ah, yes, your son.” He glanced toward Arten, who stood silently in the background, then frowned. “Is your son of age?”
“Yes, sir. He turned twelve this summer.”
“Then I’m sorry. An example needs to be made, to those in Lean-to who may not be as honest as you, to their Families. All of those arrested and currently in confinement will be sentenced tomorrow morning.”
“But he wasn’t part of the riot!”
Sartori’s eyes narrowed. “Nevertheless, he attacked my son, a member of the Carrente Family. He will be punished.”
With a sharp gesture, he motioned for Arten to escort Tom out, the Armory commander grabbing him by the upper arm. Tom clenched his jaw, but he didn’t resist. Arten didn’t release him until they stood outside the gates of the estate. Night had fallen, but two lanterns had been lit on the top of the wall above the gates.
“You should accept the offer,” Arten said as he let Tom go. “There’s nothing for you here in Portstown. There never will be. Not while Sartori is Proprietor.”
Without waiting for a response, the commander stepped back through the gates, slipping from the lantern light into the darkness of the yard beyond.
4
“W HERE’S COLIN?” ANA DEMANDEDthe moment Tom ducked through the flap over the door. A fire blazed in the pit, Sam and Paul on the far side, Ana tightening a bandage over Paul’s upper arm. A spot of blood already stained it. A used dressing sat at Ana’s feet.
Tom caught Sam’s gaze, and Paul’s. Sam frowned; Paul spat into the fire.
He couldn’t meet his wife’s eyes.
“Sartori refused to release him,” he said, moving toward the fire, noting the aleskin to one side. He picked it up and took a long, heavy pull before setting it back down, the ale bitter on his tongue.
He caught Ana’s expression out of the corner of his eye, but turned away, settling down before the fire, across from Sam.
“What did he say?”
“He said that Colin attacked Walter with the sling, that he beat him.”
“I told you not to give him that sling, that it would only lead to trouble.” Ana jerked at the bandage and Paul winced. “And what did you say?”
“That Colin must have been provoked.”
Ana snorted and stood. “Well then, Tom Harten, you don’t know your own son as well as you think.”
Tom’s shoulders tensed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that there’s more of you and your anger inside of Colin than you can possibly imagine. More of your pride. He’s taken his share of beatings from Walter and his gang, but I wouldn’t put it past Colin to have started the fight today. What’s going to happen to him?”
“I don’t know.” When Ana didn’t respond, he glanced up to where she stood over him, hands on hips, met her gaze directly for the first time. “I don’t know! Sartori said he’d pass judgment in the morning. On Colin and all of those they took after the riot.”
The anger in Ana’s eyes hardened, the muscles of her jaw tensing.
“He arrested people from the riot?” Sam asked.
Tom didn’t turn from Ana. “Yes. Shay and a few others.”
“And he’s lumped Colin in with them?” Paul shook his head. “That’s not good. That’s not good at all.”
Tom felt the urge to punch him.
Ana’s hands fell from her hips and she turned away, began rummaging through their few possessions, rattling pots, sorting knives and utensils that didn’t need to be sorted.
“We have another problem,” Tom said, trying to ignore his wife for the moment.
“What’s that?” Sam asked. He stoked the fire with a stick, embers flaring as they rose with the smoke.
“Sartori is going to raze Lean-to. Apparently, Shay’s not one of us. He’s a member of the Avezzano Family, not a guildmember, and Sartori believes he was sent here to foment a rebellion. He’s been using us and the others in Lean-to to cause trouble, like the riot today, but Sartori’s had enough. He’s going to send in the Armory to clear us out.”
Paul leaped to his feet. “He can’t do that! We’re citizens of Andover! We have rights! We have-”
“Paul!” Sam’s voice cut across Paul’s rant like a blade, stopping him short, breath drawn in, face red. He motioned for the smith to sit down.
Paul exhaled sharply, mumbled something under his breath, but sat.
Sam turned back to Tom. The small room was silent. Even Ana had stopped moving, although she remained in the shadows.
“I assume you protested,” Sam said.
“Yes.”
“You told him we had nothing to do with Shay, that we have nowhere else to go?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?” Ana asked.
Tom shrugged. “He said it was our problem. That we should go back to Andover or find someplace else
