After getting turned around and having to back-track once, Able found his way back to the Bays' home. No small child blocked his path up to the front door. He knocked and prayed the elder rather than younger Mrs. Bay would answer and either providence or the fifty percent chance favored him this day.
"Hello?" She frowned warily. "Can I help you?"
"I don't suppose you remember me, but I was here with Lark the other day." She was squinting at his face, so he added, "Things were a little heated, so we weren't introduced, I'm afraid."
"Oh. Yes, I remember, now. I'm sorry about that."
"It's quite all right. Able Houser, since we can rectify that now." He offered his hand.
"Mercy Bay." She took it quickly then backed out of the doorway to let him through. "Would you like to come in?" She was pulling him by his hand already anyway.
"Uh, sure, yes." He entered the house and got his hand back while she closed the door. "I, uh, since this morning, I was wondering if you had news of Venture and his father."
She nodded as she scanned back and forth through the front window. "Yes, I imagined so. He's here."
"Venture is?" Able's eyebrows rose. "Lark will be so relieved."
She turned to face him. "Where is he?"
"He went back to Fairbanks, pretty much right after he saw you two days ago. I'm still here because I've been following the progress of the conflict, and I've also been researching in the archives up at the municipal. I'm writing a chronicle on the aftermath of the war, you see."
"Oh..." She spent a moment trying to figure what to make of that. "That's...that's different. But you are a friend of Lark's, yes?"
"Yes."
"Would you be wanting to talk to Venture then?"
"Please."
Mercy Bay led him through the mudroom and kitchen, then around to the great room with the fireplace. Ash was seated in a chair beside it but found her feet the moment she saw Able. On the couch sprawled a man with the sort of skin that had initially kept Able ignorant of the fact that his own was "dark," but now he could see the redness of a Northlander's tan compared to his own "beechnut" brown. Venture Bay was tall with shaggy, mud-brown hair and close-cropped beard, and he held a wet cloth to the side of his face with one hand and his infant child in the other. His daughter Gift was sitting in his lap.
"Ma, what's this Bander doing here?!" Ash halfway shouted.
Mercy held up her hands for calm. "He's Lark's B—Larbant, the one he brought with him the other day."
"As if that fag isn't Larbant enough himself!"
"Hey!" Venture barked at her but immediately snapped his attention back between his mother and Able. "Lark was here?"
"We came here three days ago," Able snatched the chance to speak with Venture over his agitated wife. "He was pretty upset that you weren't here."
"Oh, I bet!" Venture chuckled. "Not allowed to get into trouble without him. Still, he should be glad he sat this one out."
"What was it like?" Able asked.
"Crowded, cold, and muddy?" Venture chuckled again but with a head shake. "Also our supplies got soaked in the rain, so all we had to eat was soggy bread and such. Not really Lark's kind of party."
Able was about to agree, but then this might be a test, or at least a chance to prove himself trustworthy. "Oh, I don't know...I think he'd try anything once." While Venture was laughing, he added, "Your father got out of there too, right?"
"Yeah, he's here too, first dibs on the bath." Venture gave a lopsided grin. "But he's got a bad cold, maybe even fever, from sitting in the damp. A lot of folks did."
"Do you mind telling me what happened? Your wife mentioned a riot."
"Yeah, you could call it that," Venture replied as he stretched and resettled on the couch. "Handsome Warner was getting arrested—"
"What are you giving him names for?!" Ash interjected.
"That's who it was!" Venture snorted with annoyance. "It's no great secret."
"The Banders could arrest him again, and you and Pa too, for that matter! Use your thrice-damned head for once!"
"Calm down, he's Lark's friend," and then he looked at Able, a plea to avoid embarrassment in his eyes. "You're just Lark's friend, right?"
"Yes, and not an enforcer or employee of the Law or Crown in any way. I am just a scholar, curious about all that's been happening here. I'm trying to write a book about it, you see."
"Lark's helping you write a book about the Resistance?" Venture was clarifying, rather than seeming surprised.
Able also rolled with it. "That's his idea. I'd rather write about all parties involved in the conflict."
"Huh." Venture appeared to consider that, then shrugged. "Well, what would you like to know?"
"Unbelievable," Ash huffed and marched out of the room towards the back of the house. A slamming door echoed through the house some moments later and upset the baby. Mercy sighed and went after her.
"Don't worry." Venture patted the infant until it settled, then winked at Able. "I'll be giving her the attention she wants soon as I've gotten cleaned up."
Was he joking? Nothing Ash had said was even unreasonable, let alone flirtatious. Though...Lark had mentioned this couple's relationship was contentious. And it was still none of Able's business and rather in his favor at the moment.
He seated himself on the opposite end of the couch. "So it started with an arrest?"
"Right, Handsome Warner was getting arrested for, uh, what—resisting arrest? Heh, yeah. He wouldn't give up his house or his son or himself when the Bander collectors came, and he was telling them just what they could do with their papers when they decided to seize him and drag him off. But his neighbors had something to say about that, and though the Banders brought out their swords, there were so many folk out yelling at them that they retreated." Perhaps he was simply tired, but Venture's speech was languid and his tone easy. He might as well have been telling an amusing tale of bickering yardfowl.
"Not sure how it got from there to the blockade idea, but folk came around telling about the mob deciding we were kicking the Banders out, and hell, yeah, I was in. I built my house myself; they don't got a right to it!"
His expression turned pinched and disgruntled, but he hadn't raised his voice. "I got down there and people are just tearing up old, ruined lots for parts and others are digging up the pave stones and we just piled them together and started building a wall. The Banders showed up, and they yelled, and we yelled back and threw rocks and chased them back again, and by the time they got back up we were about two hundred strong and had most of our barricade built."
"I was told there were about sixty of you," Able noted.
"Well, at first there were about two hundred of us," Venture insisted and grew slightly more animated in his own defense. "And some of us were pushing back the Banders while others of us were building. I was building, of course. A slew of Bander horsemen came in from the west and rushed folks while astride. That led to chaos and—according to my pop—some injuries. They're riding into the mob, beating people with those clubs they got, so those of us inside the barricade got squeezed in by more people looking for cover. The people outside threw rocks and swung sticks, and for a while, it looked like we were getting a proper brawl. Then more riders came down the north road with—with guns." He shook his head as if he still couldn't believe it and deflated into the couch again.
"They all lined up and fired into the air, and then our people seemed to decide cover was the best idea and just, uh, left the rest of us trapped in the barricade, surrounded by Banders who wanted to arrest us. So yeah, that was about sixty people, yep. Virtue Armorer told us we had cover, so all we had to do was throw rocks so they didn't charge us. For some reason, that worked?"
"Because they couldn't handle the mob as it was," Able explained. "If they started killing people, how many more angry Aimsby residents would come out fighting?"
"Oh, that's a good point," Venture accepted before being distracted by the infant spitting up all over his shirt. "Missed my face again, buddy, but good effort, good effort." He took the cloth from his face and proceeded to nonchalantly wipe the mess up while Able averted his gaze and tried to not be ill.
"But yeah," Venture continued, "they set up a perimeter with those guns, and they were arguing with each other a lot. We did the same. Some people opted to try to sneak out at nightfall before the Banders had organized their perimeter, but the rest of us thought we should try to hold out. We were going to be arrested or killed anyway, might as well go down fighting, yeah? And while some folks were sneaking out, some snuck in, too, with supplies, which was nice."
"Including your father?"
Venture nodded. "He didn't bring supplies, though. He tried to get me to leave with him."
"Why didn't you?"
Venture looked down at the baby for a few breaths before looking at his daughter too and stroking her hair. "Don't want to be a slave man with slave children, I guess. Or at the very least, I argued with my pop about it long enough for the Banders to reinforce the perimeter with fresh soldiers and we couldn't get out."
"You tried to leave, then?"
"Tried to make him leave, yeah." Venture shrugged.
"Then what happened?"
Venture shrugged again. "We all sat tight, arguing amongst ourselves about what to do. That first morning they offered us surrender terms, but none of us trusted a word of it, so we told them to get lost. They didn't, of course, but it felt good to shout at them. We were starting to think, okay, we can hold out until help comes. Then it rained."
"Were some of you thinking of surrendering that morning?"
"Some people were. Groveland wasn't convinced our conditions would improve though, that they'd give us food and the chance to get dry. He'd kind of become our man of reason at that point, or at least the one I subscribed to. Anyway, when the Bander leader did his song and dance the next morning, the few of us who were not in favor of negotiating kinda blew it for those of us who were..."
"No one was shot, though, correct?"
Venture quirked a curious eyebrow. "Oh, you heard about that?"
"I saw that. I knew Tanner has a temper on him, but that shocked me."
"Wait—you were there?" Venture looked alarmed, possibly just now catching on to why his wife was suspicious.
"Yes, I was interviewing the enforcers—or perhaps I should call them Banders? About the blockade." Able pulled his notebook from his satchel, opened it to the notes he had taken from the time, and handed it to Venture. Frowning, Venture read a little and then awkwardly paged back through it with his only free hand. In the meantime, the toddler slid from her father's leg and tried to crawl up onto Able's.
"Huh, you are writing a book," Venture conceded after a moment.
"As I said." Able leaned back into the couch and away from the toddler who was now much too close to his face. "And, uhm, what does it want?"
"It?" Venture asked, perhaps understandably confused.
"She. The child trying to climb on me. What does she want?"
"Book for me?" said child attempted to illuminate.
"Oh!" Venture chuckled. "She thinks you're handing out presents."
"Well, I am not." Able carefully removed her from his lap. "I really need that back undamaged, as it's the only copy I have, so I can't let children play with it."
"Here." Venture returned the notebook. "Come cuddle with me, Gift, I really missed you."
The little girl's face fell into a pout, but she did as she was told. She lay her head on Venture's chest and glared at Able over the hairy arm around her shoulders.
"Right, so." Able resettled himself. "So what did you think to do after that? Sit tight and hope help arrived?"
"What we ended up doing, yeah." Venture shook his head and sighed. "Lots of talk about breaking out and escaping or fighting them, but folks were getting grumpy and tired and even sick. Pop couldn't get dry or warm and took a turn for the worse. Last evening we were trying to get a consensus on who was willing to die instead of giving up when the Shadow popped in."
Able cocked his head, picturing the barricade and the guard around it. "How did he get in?"
"I didn't see. He was up at the east end passing instructions down, so I didn't even see him. We were to quietly gather the ill and wounded at the west side, able-bodied to the east. Since Pop was so sick, and it was on my account he was even there, I decided to go help get the older folks out rather than join the Resistance fighting up at the east side."
"Good thing you did. At least five people were killed."
Venture's eyes went wide. "Do you know who?"
"No. The Banders have them and a dozen captured men." So he was saying Banders, now.
Venture stared at his daughter's head, looking deeply troubled.
Able added, "There's speculation that the Shadow didn't make it either."
"Make it?" Venture's eyes snapped up under a scowl. "Make it out?"
"I had several witnesses say he was gravely wounded."
Venture took his hand from his daughter's shoulder so that he could rub his face. "This isn't happening."
"I'm sorry." And Able really was. He should have remembered what the Shadow meant to the beleaguered Borealunders and been more tactful. He himself could only hope for the best for a man who had shielded others with his own body...and also, he himself was suspending his own anxiety on the matter by treating it as an unknown. "One witness saw him leave, assisted but on his feet, so his wound may not have been life-threatening."
"Spirits grant us one small mercy, then," and Venture pressed the backs of his first two fingers against his forehead. So that's what a Borealunder prayer looked like.
Able opened his notebook again. "Do you mind if I write down any of what you told me? It'll be kept anonymous in case the enforcers search me."
"Oh." Venture was startled again, even winced. "Oh, yeah, that would... Thanks. And write whatever."
Able nodded and started scribbling things out. "So what happened to your face?" he asked of the welt that was no longer hidden by a wet cloth.
"Oh, yeah." Venture laughed. "I wish I could say I got it fending off a Bander as I covered the escape for the older fellas, but no, we were well away by the time the Banders noticed we were getting ourselves gone. So, I was doing the thing where you're sprinting in one direction while looking back the way you came..."
"And ran face-first into something."
"Sign." Venture's grin was broad and lop-sided. "When the shock wears off, I'll come up with a great brawl with a Bander to replace it."
Able smiled and shook his head. "I'm only putting the truth in the book, but I'll leave all of that out for you."
"Thanks." Venture lazily touched his brow in salute then fell to silence watching Able's hand scrawl. And then he said, "So, are you and Lark..?"
Able's brain, usually quite quick and light on its feet, tripped and ground to a halt on its chin. He stared at Venture, his mouth hanging open around a half-formed word. What word, exactly, he knew not.
Venture chuckled, both amused and abashed. "Sorry, that was kinda presumptuous, huh?"
"I don't... Well, he mentioned...that with you..." Why was he even entertaining this conversation? Too late now, but maybe being so frank would maintain Venture's good-will?
"Skies, did he?" and now Venture looked very embarrassed, so the good-will angle was playing out very well.
"In a very past tense statement," Able amended with his hands up. "Maintained that you're his best friend, and that's all."
"Yeah, that might become past tense too, if he keeps blabbing like that." His tone, just languid as before, made it impossible to tell if this was a real threat.
"I'm sorry," Able said just in case and scratched his jaw. "Do you think he might've mentioned it because he...ah..."
"Was trying to get a read on you?" Venture raised his eyebrows. "What would you do if he was?"
Able put his hand over his mouth. This was not a conversation he had been prepared to have with himself, let alone a stranger who should by all accounts be suspicious of him.
"Interesting," Venture remarked softly.
"What?" Able's chest tightened.
"Oh, that's just an interesting reaction." Venture waved his hand flippantly. "You don't know what you'd do. I wouldn't expect that of most fellas."
Now Able's damned face was getting hot. "Do you think that is what he was doing?"
"Oh, no doubt. Lark doesn't like getting caught on the defensive, so he puts it right out there. Now if he actually fancies you...haven't seen him in a while, so dunno. You're near his age, looks like, points in your favor. He's tired of older blokes, that I'm sure of, but it's a chore to keep track of all his complaints." And Venture chuckled.
"So he's picky?" Able might have been relieved as well as surprised. Which was also "interesting."
"Surprise!" Venture chuckled. "No, he's not just up for anything, though yeah, you'd think so and...yeah, okay, nothing's off the table if the mood strikes him right. But he's still really cautious about making himself...hmmm, let's say available?"
Able frowned. "He's been hurt?"
"Threatened. There aren't too many guys of Lark's persuasion who are willing to be open about it, and it makes him a target not just for those who are repulsed by it, but those who want to try it."
Able rubbed his mouth. He himself had never—at least consciously—thought of cavorting with another man until he met Lark. Having the option laid bare probably inspired the same potential in other minds. Or there were those who had considered it for some time, yet never found a willing partner...and probably weren't too willing themselves to take no for an answer.
...Venture was still watching him. But he grinned when he caught Able's nervous glance. "Don't worry. Lark's a big boy. He doesn't need me getting all protective over him."
"Actually," Able nabbed the opening for a change of topic, "I'm a little curious which of you would win in a fight."
"Ha! He always did, no use denying." And Venture guffawed.
"Really?" Able blinked. "I might have lost money."
"I can lift more and punch harder, sure, but he's closer to the ground and has much better control of his legs. All the time we were growing up, he'd win most of our wrestling matches because he was quick and never lost his footing. It's what made him the better horseman too, no doubt. Legs. Smug jackass, always hiding them under a skirt."
"He's certainly coordinated...in multiple definitions of the term." That earned a snorting laugh. Good, but Able still needed to keep the conversation off himself, so he tried, "You must be better at other things than him, though."
"Sure am." Venture nodded confidently. "Making money topping that list. He's a softy negotiator, always worrying about what the other person can afford and worrying that they'll not like him. I keep telling him, that's their worry, not his, but it doesn't stick."
"Huh." Lark had seemed a brisk businessman, but now that Venture had said it, Able could see it, so he nodded in agreement.
"How is that business of his doing, do you know?"
"With Splendor Hatling? It seems...well, they might be having trouble making ends meet. They're boarding me to help pay for food."
"Ain't right." Venture shook his head in disgust and despair. "None of it's right. What are we supposed to do?"
"I don't know," was all Able could say, so he then offered to take his leave so that Venture could enjoy being home again.
Venture was amiable about this, telling him to come back any time. Able nearly mentioned he was staying at an inn to the tune of a dwindling purse but remembered Ash and kept his mouth shut.