The August 5 (25 page)

 

 

Gavin thought about Tamsin's treatise for the rest of the night. By Monday morning, he'd made his decision. Once he did, he wondered why he'd ever hesitated in the first place. By seven a.m., he arrived at the cellar that housed the
JFA Bulletin
and worked without pause through the morning to edit and typeset the words that Tamsin had written. His three-person staff arrived around lunchtime to prep the press. Theo, his artist, designed a simple line drawing of a rising sun for the cover. They kept their heads down, worked hard, and said little. Maybe it was Gavin's demeanor, but there seemed to be an understanding that something important was happening. When the prototype was finished, it was a twenty-four-page pamphlet called
The Right to Rule
by Angry Em.

At six p.m., Theo ran out to grab the
Zunft Chronicle
, and when he came back, his eyes were red. He laid the paper out on the workbench, and everyone gathered around to see the headline: “Cottager Rebels Found Guilty, Executed at Dawn.” A horrible silence followed.

“They didn't even let them see their families before they shot them,” Theo said.

“Michael Henry is dead?” Shauna asked. She was one of Gavin's typesetters, and she had worked with Henry on the previous paper. “The August Five are dead.”

Everyone looked at Gavin expectantly. For a moment, Gavin couldn't speak. At one time, Michael Henry had been like a father to him. Henry had hated Gavin after he wouldn't join the August Rising, and the two had never reconciled. Gavin wondered how Tamsin would hear about her father's death. He wanted to drop everything and find her before she heard the news from a Zunft newspaper, but he wasn't sure if she'd even want to see him.

“Let's get this work done,” he said finally. “Believe me when I say that this will be a fitting tribute.”

No one else had read
The Right to Rule
cover to cover, but they all trusted Gavin to do the right thing. Gavin asked Shauna to add a simple dedication to the title page:
In Memory of the August Five
. But otherwise, he let Tamsin's words stand as she had written them. A few hours later, Gavin sent his staff home when he knew he could handle the rest of the work himself. The press finished running at three a.m. An hour later, two hundred copies of
The Right to Rule
were ready to be bundled into crates. Soon, a horse and wagon rolled into the alley north of the basement offices, and Verner, an elderly man and one of Mr. Leahy's uncles, helped Gavin load the crates into the back. By the time they were done, it was five a.m. on Tuesday. It was less than twenty-four hours after Michael Henry had died at the hands of the Zunft. Gavin watched Verner's horses plod slowly down the muddy road and into the still-sleepy city. Despite the weight of what they carried, there was no urgency to their gait.

The
Bulletin's
distribution system had been set up without Gavin's knowledge so that if he were interrogated by the Zunft, Gavin could never endanger the messenger boys or the shopkeepers who carried his illegal newspaper. He tried to imagine what would happen to Tamsin's treatise now, but his mind was too foggy. He hadn't slept since Saturday night, and then, only for a few hours. He no longer had any control over what happened, nor was he any use to anyone until he got some sleep.

I'm getting sick
, Gavin realized. His body ached and he was starting to shiver but not from the cold. Gavin went back inside and cleaned up the presses. He took the southern route out of the warehouses and emerged four blocks away. By then, he was so unnaturally tired that he was afraid he wouldn't make it back to his rooftop shack. He didn't even take off his boots before he fell into bed. He dragged the quilt up over himself and faded into a deep sleep behind his blue door.

Meanwhile, in the streets of Sevenna, the words of Angry Em were spreading like wildfire.

24

The Right to Rule
(excerpt)

In this story, a man is given power. He is not rewarded for any inherent goodness or innate skill. He is not a kind man. He was born into a world that favored him, but even that did not propel him to the pinnacle of control. This could be the story of how he got there—the lies he told and the people he harmed. But instead this is the story of what he did next.

When a man comes into power, his true nature reveals itself. And Colston Shore has revealed who he truly is, and we must stand up to him before it is too late.

I urge the immediate boycott of all Zunft businesses. Do not buy bread from those Zunftmen who have profited from Shore's war against us. Cottagers must turn to one another in this time. No matter what you make, sell only to cottagers. If you work for the Zunft in any capacity, you must stop immediately today.

Today is the Cessation. The cottagers will no longer serve their common master. Do not service their houses, their shops, their factories. Stay in your communities and take care of one another, the gardens, the health and well-being of your kin and neighbors.

We will bring Colston Shore to his knees, and we will do it through kindness to our fellows.

—
Angry Em

Tommy awoke early to put the finishing touches on his math homework. He was finally getting his focus back after his strange night with Emilie in the cottager district. For days afterward, whenever he tried to do his work, his mind refused to cooperate. But finally, he flew through the arithmetic without getting distracted by thoughts of the red-haired cottager or the cellar with the portraits of the missing. His stomach growling, he ran down the steps, just in time to meet up with Kristin and Ellie as they were leaving for breakfast in the dining hall.

“Hello, ladies,” he said, and they greeted him cheerfully. There had been no further incidents since Kristoph and Dennett called him a pansy boy in the dining hall. He wondered if Rannigan might target him during the lecture, but so far Rannigan hadn't paid any attention to him at all. The students avoided talking to him and went out of their way to avoid him in the corridors. He didn't really mind being an outcast because Ellie and Kristin were better friends than any of the lads had been anyway. Tommy still hadn't talked to Bern since the vandalism at the garden. He was mostly worried about what Bern might say to their father about him.

They were halfway across the Green with Kristin prattling about her mother when Ellie interrupted her.

“Something's wrong,” Ellie said. Kristin frowned at Ellie's interruption.

“With my mother?” Kristin asked. “Well, I should say so. She takes everything I say out of context.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked Ellie.

“The porter wasn't in his office,” she said. “And the bells didn't ring this morning. Where's Bellkeeper Ben?”

Bellkeeper Ben was an elderly cottager who had worked for the Seminary since the dawn of time. He called all the boys John and when the girls had arrived, he called them all Missy. The bells rang on the hour, and the lads said that it took old Ben twenty minutes to climb up and down the bell-tower ladder every time. It was a running joke that by the time old Ben reached the bottom, he had to climb back up and do it again.

“There are no groundskeepers either,” Tommy said.

They reached the dining hall where dozens of Zunft soldiers were gathered inside the doors, far more than usual for the morning meal. The soldiers stood at attention while the students began to file into the cold room. The kitchens were shuttered and dark. Most of the tables were bare, but someone had set out platters of last night's bread and hunks of cheese on a table near the back.

“Where's breakfast?” someone called.

The students muttered among themselves as it suddenly dawned on them that this was all there was to eat. The side door banged open and Headmaster Olberg stalked in with his black robes flapping behind him. His hair was uncombed and as he chatted with two of the senior professors he surveyed the students with concern. The three men conversed while the students grew more impatient. Finally, Olberg climbed the platform, but he tripped on his loose robe and had to catch his balance on the top stair. Someone snickered, but the rest of the hall was silent with anticipation.

“Students, there has been a work stoppage among our cottager servants,” Olberg said. “We are taking steps to make sure that their tasks are completed in a timely manner. But in the meantime, there will be no complaining. You will ignore any inconvenience and continue with your studies. Travel outside the Seminary is discouraged.”

Ellie was standing next to Tommy and she whispered in his ear. “The cottagers didn't show up to work, and that's what he's warning us about? He's worried about people complaining?”

Dennett raised his hand. He was standing near the front by Olberg, who nodded at him. “What about breakfast?” Dennett asked. “I'm starving and this wouldn't keep the rats happy.”

“Yes, well, you can leave Seminary if you are hungry,” Olberg agreed. “I don't expect this will continue long. Classes are going to be held on their regular schedules. Do not take the laziness of the cottagers as an opportunity to be lazy yourselves.”

After a few slices of stale bread, Tommy headed to his lecture hall for math class. A group of his classmates congregated outside the entrance while a soldier struggled with a huge ring of iron keys. He tried one after another, but none of them opened the door. Tommy waited by himself off to the side. He wished Ellie was there. At least she would appreciate the irony that the Zunft couldn't even unlock a door without the aid of the cottagers.

Ultimately, the class was canceled because no one could figure out how to get inside. Tommy went back to his room and tried to read. But he kept staring out at the city, wondering what might be happening in the southern districts to keep the cottagers home. Around noon, he heard a tapping on his door. He hoped it was the porter telling him the status of the lunch meal, but it was Ellie and Kristin standing in the hallway.

“Any news?” he said.

“Yes,” Kristin said excitedly.

“Can we come in?” Ellie asked.

“Uh, I guess,” Tommy said.

“No porters. No rules,” Ellie said as she marched inside. Someone was bound to report them, but Tommy would worry about that later.

“It's not just the Seminary,” Kristin said. “We went up Dawson Street and it's deserted as a cemetery!”

“There are no cottagers anywhere,” Ellie said. “Some of the Zunft shops are open, but no one is shopping. The city is the most deserted I've ever seen it, even on the Sunday night of a holiday weekend.”

Tommy wondered what his father was going to do. He would be furious at the cottagers. Any defiance from his young children brought harsh punishment. How would he take it when half the city refused to do its appointed job?

“Did you get the
Chronicle
this week?” Tommy asked. “What's been going on in the news?”

“I haven't read one lately,” Ellie said. “I've been busy with schoolwork.”

Kristin hadn't seen it either, so they headed over to the Reading Room in the library, which was also unnaturally empty. Usually, the soft armchairs of the Reading Room were filled with students.

“I'm starting to feel nervous about all of this,” Kristin said. The volt-lamps glowed brightly on the polished stands beside the chairs, but there was no one there to use them. The librarians had hung the week's papers on wooden dowels in a glass case, and Tommy flipped through them. Monday's issue had the biggest headline: “Cottager Rebels Found Guilty, Executed at Dawn.” Emilie had mentioned Michael Henry. Maybe the work stoppage had something to do with the executions. But Tuesday's lead article was something bland about the price of Aeren grain, not about the August Rising.

“What do you think?” Ellie asked.

“I don't know,” Tommy said.

“Do you think you should talk to your father?” Ellie asked.

“Why?” Tommy wondered. It was a strange request from Ellie, who hated Chief Administrator Shore. And Tommy didn't like to seek his father out, especially in times like this. It wasn't like the man would have comforting words.

“We need to know what's going on,” Ellie said.

“Let's give it some time and see if things go back to normal,” Tommy said. “There's not going to be lunch, obviously. Do you want to go down to the harbor and see if we can find an open caf
é
?”

“It will be funny to watch a Zunftman try to serve his own customers,” Kristin said.

But when they got to the waterfront, all the shops and caf
é
s were shuttered. There were no workers, no crowds—only silent, empty docks. They strolled out to the end of the longest pier where a lone wrought-iron bench faced the horizon. There was a bundle of papers on the bench, and Ellie picked it up and inspected the cover. It was a slightly damp pamphlet with a stylized drawing of a rising sun.

“
The Right to Rule
, by Angry Em?” Tommy read the cover aloud.

“It's put out by the
JFA Bulletin
,” Ellie said. “I've read the bulletin before, and I recognize the symbol on the back. It says it was published on Tuesday.”

The three of them squeezed together on the bench with Ellie seated in the middle. They took turns reading aloud from the treatise. When they finished, they sat staring out into the lonely sea and the flat gray horizon. “Today is the Cessation. The cottagers will no longer serve their common master.”

“I guess we know where the stoppage came from,” Tommy said.

“You mean the Cessation,” Ellie corrected him.

“Is it strange to read about your father like that?” Ellie asked.

“I feel like a villain,” Tommy said. “I wish I wasn't on the wrong side of this conflict.”