Michael Sullivan - The Crown Tower

“Survive where? Survive how?”

“I have some money,” Gwen said.

“We all have some money,” Christy said. “But it won’t be enough.”

“No, I have real money.”

“How much?” Abby asked.

Gwen took a breath. “I have four gold coins.”

“Bull!” Abby challenged.

“Four gold?” Mae muttered. “That’s not possible. You could never save up that much, not if you slept with every man in Medford.”

“I didn’t make it. It was given to me. I just didn’t know how best to spend it … until now.”

Jollin was nodding. “I knew you had stashed some money away, but I never thought it was that much. Still, that isn’t enough.”

“Then we’ll just have to make more,” Gwen said.

“So what are you planning?” Abby asked.

Gwen wasn’t-that was the problem. She hadn’t a clue. All she knew for certain was that she wasn’t going to end up like Avon, and to have any chance at survival, she couldn’t manage on her own. Maybe together they would stand a better chance. She went to the window, looking out at the muddy streets of the Lower Quarter. “I’ve got it all worked out-just trust me.”

“No one will hire us,” Jollin told her. “A home wealthy enough to afford a girl would never employ one who has no letter of reference, even to scrub floors and empty chamber pots. And the guilds don’t take girls as apprentices.”

“She’s right,” Etta said. “No one’s gonna hire me. Who’d want to look at my face each day? I don’t like looking at it myself.”

“You know all this, Gwen. You tried and failed, remember? And have you forgotten about Hilda?”

“Hilda tried it alone. So did I,” Gwen said. “That’s what we did wrong. If we all go together-”

“Then we can keep each other company as we starve?”

“Maybe if we went somewhere else,” Mae said. “A place where no one knows us.”

Jollin shook her head. “They’re gonna want to know. Folks don’t hire people unless they know their past. We’d be strangers and no one is gonna hire a stranger over someone they’ve known for years.”

“I watched my mother starve,” Rose said. “I won’t do that.”

“No, leaving is just too risky,” Jollin concluded. “Even if we had enough means for food, we’d have no place to sleep but the street. How long before we were robbed and strangled too? Gwen, if we had any alternatives, do you think any of us would be here?”

Gwen turned from the window. “But I have gold.”

“That’s great, Gwen. Buy yourself a nice dress or something.” Jollin crawled back into the bed and reached for the covers.

“But you don’t understand-”

“I do understand. It’s you who keeps thinking there is somewhere better than this. Yeah, Grue can be a bastard, but there are plenty of things worse than him. Trust me. I know. As much as we hate it here, the truth is that if we leave, it’s almost certain we’ll die. You know this better than any of us.”

Gwen nodded. “You’re right.” She slapped her arms against her sides and nodded again. “You’re absolutely right.”

“What do you know? She can be reasoned with.”

Jollin pulled the covers over her head and used a pillow to deafen the sound of the hammering.

“Is that pounding keeping you awake?” Gwen asked. “Jollin, do you know what that is? That’s Stane fixing the door I busted.”

“So?” She lowered the covers to peer at her.

“So he’s got money, and Grue plans on letting him have you.”

All the color drained from Jollin’s face. She slowly sat up. “Me?”

“He’ll beat her to death,” Etta said with a lisp that made the word death sound like deaf , and coming from that busted mouth it was more than just words.

“Yeah, he will, and she won’t be the last-unless we leave … now.”

“But you almost died when you tried, and Hilda-”

“Both Hilda and I made the same mistake … We tried to make it on our own. Plus Hilda only had a few coppers, so she was stranded on the street, and when I ran, I didn’t have my coins … They were hidden up here. With them we can get our own place-a safe place. So what if no one will hire us. Who cares! Grue makes good money from us, and Hilda had the right idea about keeping it all. We can start our own place. Individually none of us can survive-that’s what I didn’t understand-but together we have a chance. Certainly a better chance than hoping that Stane will lose his job or become a human being.”

Gwen looked around and could see them weighing the possibilities.

“Look, I’m going to get the money. Those who want to come with me, have your stuff packed, because if we are going to do this, it’s got to be now.”

Gwen rushed out of the room, as much to avoid any questions as to leave before Stane finished. Truth was, the idea had only just come to her, and she was a long way from fitting all the pieces into place.

Thud, thud, thud . Stane was on his knees hammering the pale new plank against the frame. He smiled at her. “I’m almost done here. Gonna have a little fun after I-”

Gwen stepped into the little room across from him and slammed the door behind her. She waited with her back against it, making sure he didn’t follow. She heard the scrape of a planer and guessed she was safe … for now. The little bedchamber didn’t have a bolt like the other room, which had always been a problem. She’d never checked the money in the daylight, and she wasn’t just checking this time.

She crossed the room, dragged the table out of the way, and pried up the board, praying. That she had managed to keep them hidden for so long, right under Grue’s nose, had been a miracle. The men knew to pay Raynor directly, but some of the better ones tipped. It was never more than a copper or two, and Grue let them keep what was given. But he had no idea of the fortune she kept under the bedroom floor. Had he known, he would’ve killed her for them himself.

The board popped up, and the bag was there. She’d sewn it from the sleeve that Gideon Hawk had torn off her dress the night he’d had eight drinks instead of the usual four. At last count she had had forty-five copper dins in addition to the four gold tenents. A weighty sum and more than just her life’s savings-it was a sacred treasure. She stuffed the pouch between her breasts and went back out.

Stane was swinging the door open and closed, checking the clearance as she walked past. “Tell Jollin to brush her hair but leave it down.”

When Gwen entered the bedroom, the girls were all up and waiting-every one of them.

“Gwen,” Etta said, “I don’t know what in the kingdom you were thinking when you told us to pack our stuff-you know we ain’t got no stuff.”

“Dear blessed Maribor, Gwen,” Jollin whispered. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Just follow me.”

They were all barefoot. Grue never saw the point in shoes, but seven women descending the wooden steps were about as quiet as a runaway wagon.

“What’s going on?” he said, coming out of the little storeroom near the kitchen, just as Gwen pulled open the door.

She stopped short, pushing the rest of them out to the porch, where they stood confused. The cats had turned into ducklings and Gwen their reluctant mother, standing between them and a vicious dog. “I warned you. Now we’re leaving.”

“God, you’re a stupid whore! I just got done telling ya-there’s no place for you to go. This is the only place any of ya have. But go on. You all go ahead and leave. Go wander around town awhile. When you get tired-when it’s dark and cold and you’re hungry-you’ll realize just how good you had it and will come right back. But know this: When you do, you’ll stop this nonsense and do as I say. Oh, and I’ll be getting the belt out again for causing so much trouble.”