The Price {Completed}

Chapter Thirty

The next morning we set out early to search for any available jobs. The rain still hadn't given up, adding to the puddles and mud already clogging the broken roads on this side of the river. We walked toward the bridge along with the other workers heading off to either work or find work. It was strange to suddenly have the roads filled again, but for some reason it was if a silent call had gone out. Time to stop hiding, time to try and bring the city back to normalcy. There were, of course, still pockets of fighting where the Lenotskaya and Prest soldiers tried to break through the Vigilant Men barricades, but those were on the border of the city. Here in the slums and the poor neighborhoods, we were oddly safe from gunshots and fires. It was almost as if the poor had not yet been touched by the sweeping change of the men who claimed to help them.

I linked my arm with Ferdinand's to keep with him through the crush of men and women pushing through the streets. I was jostled so many times that I knew bruises just had to be building up along my sides. Thankfully, I had nothing in my pockets for anyone to lift, so I let them search to their heart's content as they lingered an extra half-second by my side as they bumped their way through.

The streets looked almost back to normal, with vendors and horses and carts all pushing their way around. Only, no one spoke and hardly anyone looked up from what they were doing. Men wore their hats pulled low and women tied their scarves around their hair tightly. Everyone had somewhere to be, and something to do.

Ferdinand and I tried a few of the inns with no luck, and headed toward the dockyards. No one wanted to work so near the river, and so maybe a few jobs might be open for us. As we approached the area that lead to the docks and the fish markets, we saw a large crowd formed in a tight circle. It wasn't like the crowds on the street who quietly went about their work. This one was mostly men, all of them shouting and yelling. We approached cautiously, wanting to get around them to the fish market, but also wary of the fist fight that seemed be going on in the center. I saw a vast number of white in the crowd, which unsettled me.

"You are to serve the Vigilant Men," a man in the middle of the circle said. He was dressed in a smart uniform and watching a few of his underlings trying to get three men in plain clothing under control. "Should you refuse, your patriotism would be under suspect and we would be forced to jail you until we could determine whether you are a spy for the royalty."

"You can't force us to join your army!" one of the plain clothes men yelled, aiming a punch at one of the officers.

"We can, and we are," the smart dressed man said. "All young men of over fifteen are now required to register with the Vigilant Men and to serve their country like the rest of us. Should you refuse, I have given you the consequences."

"You just mean you'll execute us!" the man argued. "There won't be a trial, and we'll just be strung up for not joining your bloody army! Well, I'm not having it!" He aimed another blow, this time at the smart dressed man, but before he could land it, the officer drew an ornate pistol and pulled the trigger.

The bang echoed against the walls of the surrounding buildings, and the man dropped dead. His companions immediately gave up the fight and stared at the body of their friend. A woman in the crowd began to scream, and it set everyone off. The onlookers began to bolt, and the women pulled at their menfolk. The officers began to shout, trying to round up all those who weren't in uniform. It was chaos. Shots were fired, and men began to fall. Some were dead, others only wounded in order to stop them from running.

Ferdinand began to walk backwards, bringing me with him by a tight grip on the sleeve of my jacket. "We should leave," he said. "Now."

We turned and retraced our steps to the main road where the crowds could hide us from any pursuing officers. Ferdinand's hand shook through his grip on my sleeve. I glanced at his face to see that it was devoid of color. His eyes scanned the road with a fever, finding a new place to hide and picking out the spots of white amongst the browns and grays. We dodged the officers lounging against stalls and wagons, unsure of whether they were part of the pressgangs or not. Even if they hadn't known about the slaughter in the dockyards, the smartly dressed officer had said that all men over the age of fifteen would be required to join. Ferdinand didn't even wear so little as a flower on his lapel, which might mark him out if we were stopped.