CHAPTER TEN

EMERGENCY COORDINATOR?S RESIDENCE CHARTERED CITY OF DUBUQUE

PROVISIONAL REPUBLIC OF IOWA SEPTEMBER 14, CHANGE YEAR 24/2022 AD

?He?s… dead,?Kate Heasleroad said numbly. ?Yes, he is, Kate. You can grieve later. You have to do things! Now!? Mathilda Arminger spoke firmly. The pain in her arm and ribs was like white ice playing up into her shoulder, but she kept the bandaged limb hugged against her aching side. The bandages were wet-the priest said she needed stitches-but she could attend to that later; there weren?t any bone spikes prodding into her lungs, for all that each movement of her chest was like breathing in molten lead.

If I move very carefully, I?ll be all right.

The younger woman?s eyes were blank as she repeated:?He?s… dead. Tony?s dead.?

She began to rock back and forth, moaning. Mathilda suppressed an impulse to bury her hands in her hair and shriek in frustration. The urge to slap the other woman across the face was even stronger but she repressed it, even when Rudi raised one palm and mimed the action. ?That only works in stories,? she said decisively. ?Well, we?d better do something, anamchara mine. The wheels are going to come off the wagon here, and soon. The Bossman dead, Denson dead… If we don?t just run for the docks they?ll be looking for someone to blame…? ?I know what to do, and I?m not going to leave Kate without help now of all times. I owe her. Get this place in order, would you, Rudi? I?ll be right back.?

The nursery was down a corridor and through a pair of light swinging doors; she put one foot ahead of the other, with a determination that brought beads of sweat to her face. It had room for more than one infant, and the walls had an attractive modern mural of animals and flowers. That showed clearly, for the wall-mounted gaslights had been turned up. The boy rested on his back in a padded crib, dressed in a pink jumpsuit and looking up at a mobile of cutout cats and dogs and birds, taking an occasional dab at it with one chubby paw. The noise had woken him, but he wasn?t frightened yet. Kate had said that he was a good baby.

The children of the Coordinator of Dubuque were elsewhere tonight, probably to their parents? eventual intense relief, but there was a sadness to the scattered toys-wooden blocks, a beautiful pre-Change doll with blond hair, a rocking horse with a carefully repaired stirrup. The nurse was a middle-aged woman in a print dress; she stood before Tommie Heasleroad?s crib with an aluminum baseball bat clenched in her hands and an expression of wild determination on her rather horsy face.

That grew greater as she took in the newcomer?s alien-and blood-spattered-clothes and disheveled hair. Mathilda paused for an instant to take a necessary deep breath and pitch absolute confidence into her voice. The nursemaid deserved it if possible, rather than having the boy taken from her-she was obviously ready to sell her life for his.

And it wouldn?t do to bleed all over him, Mathilda thought for an instant of half-crazed humor before she spoke: ?Your mistress needs her son with her. It?s quite safe now, but you must bring him to her.?

She turned, and the nurse scooped up the child and followed… although she kept the bat in one hand.

Mother was right. Just act as if there?s absolutely no doubt you?ll be obeyed, and chances are you will be. The more so when people are frightened.

It had been only moments, but the room was in order when she returned, if you didn?t count the pooled blood, and white-faced servants were stumbling to clean that up with cloths and mops. The bodies of the dead Cutters and guardsmen had been carried away; Anthony Heasleroad had been laid out, his body covered with something that had probably started as an embroidered tablecloth, and his eyes closed. Mary and Ritva were there too, looking the worse for wear. Mary had a bruise that would cover a full half of her face and was talking in Sign, leaning against Ingolf as she did and squinting as the swelling nearly closed her one good eye:

They had a ship waiting. Left a small rearguard and got away-heading south. It?s Chaos and Old Night out there now, Rudi.

Rudi stood at the top of the stairs, and Father Ignatius at the base; between them they limited the men allowed up to a few of the most important, the ones who came with armed retinues at their backs, and a doctor with her black leather case. The doctor set to work, but the potentates milled around, taking in the dead Bossman with exclamations of horror or in more than one case with blank, calculating expressions while turning to look at each other. A few seemed nauseous; well, the stink was bad, particularly if you hadn?t seen many battlefields.

Kate looked up from her fugue when the nursemaid held out her child. She snatched the boy; he whimpered, but then she controlled herself and turning her clutch into a firm comforting grip.

Seize the moment, Mathilda thought, and bent to put her good hand on Kate?s shoulder, willing strength down it. ?Kate!? she said.?Your husband?s dead but your son lives. You must act for him, and act now.? ?What… what should I do??

The edge of hysteria drained out of her voice in the course of the sentence, and she straightened. ?You must summon your affinity…? Mathilda said, and saw blank incomprehension.?Your vassals and liegemen… oh, Mother of God, your supporters, Kate. The ones who?ll rally to your son and have fighting men behind them. The ones who owe land and office to your family!? ?But I?m not… I?m just…? ?You?re the mother of the heir, unless you let him be dispossessed,? she said.?Think of him and you can do it.? ?I don?t know what I?d say!? ?I?ll help. I remember what Mother did, after my father was killed in the Protector?s War. Just for starters-?

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