The Autumn Republic

He took two steps up the stairs, bag in hand, when he turned and went into the sitting room. Faye perched on the edge of one of the chairs, a half-empty cup of tea on the table beside her. Adamat knelt on the floor behind her and put his hands on her arms. He soon found himself weeping as well.

Adamat wept until the collar of his shirt was wet and he felt like he had no more tears to give. His legs were both asleep and Faye had composed herself some time ago and now stared unseeing at the far wall of the sitting room. He kissed her on the forehead and extricated himself from her desperate embrace, brushing the dampness from his face with one sleeve and clearing his throat.

She looked up at him, a sad smile on her lips, and he again wondered at her strength to deal with all of this. To hide her own fears and sorrow and anger, to put on a happy face for him and the children just a handful of weeks after the end of her own ordeals-it was incredible.

“I worry for you,” he said.

“I’m stronger than you think.”

“I know. But I still worry.”

She took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Worry for yourself.”

“Field Marshal Tamas has returned. He won a great victory against the Kez.” Without even being there, though I don’t think Tamas wants that to be common knowledge.

Faye scowled. “And he’s asked you to do something more for him, hasn’t he?”

“He did,” Adamat admitted.

“No! You are done with that man and his revolution!”

“Be still,” Adamat said. “I told him I would not help him any further.”

“Good.”

“I did…”

“You did what? What? You stupid oaf!”

“I did promise to help Ricard with his election. Not much. I won’t get too involved. I’m not doing this for Tamas, by the way. I’m doing it for Ricard. I owe it to him for helping me get you back.”

Faye stuck her chin out at him. “Owe it or not, if you even walk into his office you’ll get involved. I know him. And I know you.”

“So I shouldn’t do anything?”

“You should be here with your family. Ricard will understand.” She kissed his hand again. “Don’t take any jobs for a while. Let’s just leave the country. We can take the children and go to Novi. We have the money Borbador gave us.”

Adamat wanted to. He really did. Part of him said he would be a coward to do it-he would be running away. But another part told him it was the smart thing to do. The best thing for his family. “I can’t just abandon Ricard,” he said.

“But you can abandon your family?”

“I’m not… I…” Why couldn’t she understand? She and the children meant everything to him, but he had obligations. To Ricard. To Adro.

Faye pushed his hand away. “Fine. Do what you want. You always think you know best.”

Her next words were drowned out by a knock on the door. “Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

Faye shook her head. “The children would come in through the back, but they shouldn’t be here for an hour yet.”

Adamat approached the front window slowly and moved the curtain aside with one finger. When he saw who it was, he ran to the door and threw it open.

SouSmith stood on his front step, hat in hand, a scowl marring his battered face. The old boxer gave Adamat a nod, then an “Evening, ma’am” to Faye.

“Come in, come in,” Adamat said. “I just arrived home. I was going to come see you tomorrow.”

SouSmith shook his head at the invitation.

“What is it?” Adamat asked.

“There’s been a bombing,” he grunted.

Adamat felt his heart skip a beat and his palms begin to sweat. “What? Where?”

“The Holy Warriors of Labor.”

Ricard’s headquarters. A flurry of questions ran through Adamat’s head and they all jumbled up, causing him to feel tongue-tied. He looked at Faye.

“Go,” Faye urged.

Adamat snatched his hat and cane and followed SouSmith out the door to the waiting carriage.

Adamat eyed the light street traffic and silently urged the carriage faster. “Is Ricard hurt?” he asked.

SouSmith shrugged.

“How about his secretary, Fell?”

Another shrug.

“Damn it, man, do you know anything?”

SouSmith shook his head. “Was in Forswitch when I heard.”

“So you weren’t there?”

“Just thought you’d want to know. Was on my way past.”

“Well, thanks for that,” Adamat said. “What were you doing in Forswitch?”

“Helping my brother.”

“The butcher?”

A nod. SouSmith cracked his knuckles and peered out the window. “Carrying meat. Big hogs, one on each shoulder.”

“Been boxing lately?”

SouSmith kept his gaze on the street outside. His only answer was a small shake of the head.

Adamat frowned. It had been nine weeks to the day since they attacked Lord Vetas’s lair, capturing Vetas and rescuing Faye. He had released SouSmith from his employ a few days later, what with the danger passed. It seemed strange that SouSmith had had no matches since then. He was old, sure, but he hadn’t lost his edge. Why wouldn’t the Proprietor put him in the ring? Unless…

“Has the Proprietor suspended all of the boxing?”

“Yeah.”