Two roads stood before her, an ordinary citizen, but who had the ability to wrought great things. One road was easy, it would lead her back to her ordinary life. But it would be safe and not without happiness. She could have a home and a hearth, do and be whoever she wanted to be. It would be an obscure life, yes, but it would be hers, and by choice.
The second road, the one fraught with danger, would lead to certain death, but glory that had only been the abode of men until now. If she really thought about it, it was no choice at all.
So, Frazzle picked up her knives, tucked her pants into her boots, straightened her top and tied a restricting band around her curls. Thus garbed, she turned to the harder road. Not for victory, not for glory. But because it was right, just and what needed to be done. If not her, then who? If not now, when?
It wasn’t easy, the path she had chosen. She couldn’t ask anyone to share her burden, for it was hers to bear alone. She found many people, men, women, children, masters, apprentices, who were willing to help her in ways they couldn’t have imagined. They looked after her when she stopped by their houses for a drink of water. They bandaged her arms, rubbed soothing salve on the myriad scars on her back. They didn’t ask questions, for they knew Frazzle for who she was.
She was the avenger, a weapon only she could wield, the thorn in the side of the institution so they could be shifted out of their lethargy and put upon a better path. They knew they had no claim on her. And yet they would always remember how she allowed them to take care of her, for a night, a day or a week.
And Frazzle accomplished what none before her had the courage to accomplish: destruction so society could be built anew. But maybe where the others failed, and Frazzle triumphed was not in their courage but in how she inspired others to take up her fight. For her fight was their fight. They just hadn’t known how to participate. She told them how. It was she who turned the very act of drawing water from a well into a rebellious one. She taught them that everything they did helped. It was only when good people fought that things changed.
Despite her fears, she lived to be an old maid, scarred yes, alone yes, but surrounded by people who loved her.
*
Mr. Chubs paused to take a breath and wet his throat. Frazzle’s story always left him awed. Before he could continue, he heard a clamour which made him jump, fearing for his life. It took him a moment to realize the women in his audience were banging their glasses while the men looked on, scared but silent.
He breathed out, smiled and took a bow. The clamour increased. He knew then he would get free food and lodging for as long as he wished. He went back to telling the many accomplishments of Frazzle and her tribe.
*
He was in his room, scribbling into his little book when there was a knock on the door. Thinking another maiden had come to offer her services, he plastered a tolerant smile on his face and opened it.
He wished he hadn’t.
“That was not the tale of Frazzle that I remember,” said Tully, barging into the room. He settled on the bed and looked around. “No wonder you were in such a hurry to leave. These rooms are better than what my father had offered to you.”
Mr. Chubs scowled but closed the door. He didn’t want the entire inn to hear their altercation.
“Funny thing, as soon as you left, a few men from the royal guard came banging on the door. They were looking for Arthur Uriel Banes. I wonder why that name keeps following you.”
Had he not spent the better part of his adult life as a member of the royal court, Mr. Chubs probably would have revealed all his secrets there and then. Tully was a dangerous ally. A boy whose father had no time for him, leaving a vacuum that he was desperately trying to fill.
Mr. Chubs had thought Harkness was where his instincts had utterly failed him but when he left, he had thought he had dodged the noose. Though he knew just why the crown was spending so much coin to apprehend one person, he wished they knew that the renegade uprisings had nothing to do with Banes. After all, the man had vanished several years ago.
Tully had expected some reaction, not only for his sudden arrival but also for his insolence. It hadn’t been easy finding Mr. Chubs. Only once he had left to dog his master’s footsteps had Tully realized what a sheltered existence he had led. It had taken him a month to find Mr. Chubs and he could only blame himself. It had scared and exhilarated him.
“Well,” he said, “aren’t you going to scold me?”
Mr. Chubs roused himself. “Does your father…”
“Of course he knows. He sent two bodyguards with me, didn’t he? Who do you think he is? A peasant?”
Despite himself, he chuckled. “What are you doing here Tully? Truly.”
Tully thought about lying but didn’t see the point. Truth may actually get him what he wanted. “I want to travel with you. I want to be with you. I don’t want to go home.”
Mr. Chubs had feared as much. But he couldn’t turn the boy away. He did not know what Tully would do if he did that. Would he announce to the world of his connection with Banes?
Perhaps, he realized with a pang, if he saw it would gain him something.
He sighed. Better to keep him close then. “This is not going to be easy,” he said sternly. “Most times I don’t have enough coin to afford a room like this. I spend such times under trees, on the road. Do you even know how to start a fire?”
It wasn’t a dismissal. So Tully pressed his advantage. “I have money. I have my two bodyguards. My father is happy to be rid of me and my mother doesn’t care. You’re the only one…” he choked, angry with himself. He was all the things that Mr. Chubs thought he was, but he was also only fifteen years old. “You came when they arrested me. You. Not them. Please. I’ll behave, I promise.”
A sense of foreboding passed through him as he nodded his head, acquiescing to Tully’s request. He knew it was a mistake. But he was flattered by Tully’s neediness. So he accepted Tully back as his apprentice, uncaring of how badly it could burn him.
This is Chapter 7 of 26 of The Travelling Librarian series. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.
Psst: I also have 2 ebooks on Kindle – and if you’re on Kindle Unlimited, they’re free!
- Read The Gunslinger here.
- Read 23 Letters of Love here.
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