The same people were running the mission but I was amazed at the number of displaced families inside. They were wall-to-wall and when I entered, the head Reverend in charge looked up in plain dismay. I could see him thinking, ‘oh Lord, not another one’.
Quietly, I made my way over to the line in front of his desk and dropped my pack at my feet while I waited my turn. When I came up to him at last, I said, “all I need, Reverend Peabody is a ticket East to Caladia and I believe my…Lord Spencer left funds for just that purpose.” My father had sent regular donations to the mission after he had helped Davlos win his freedom. I knew he’d sent quite a few runaway slaves to this place.
His face changed and he stared at me with suspicion but I’d never met him and was relatively sure that my father hadn’t passed around any daguerreotypes of me. I was filthy and long-haired enough so that I didn’t necessarily resemble my father. From what I could see of my skin, I had darkened to a light toast color and my eyes were a faded purple in the daylight. With dark circles under them. I looked as weary and worn as I felt. I’d come an unimaginable distance on foot even for my new stamina.
“Run off your holdings? Escaped indenture?” He asked and this shocked me. Usually, they did not ask why you had arrived on their doorstep they only asked if you needed a place to stay or the next place on the Underground Trail implying local trouble or Imperial.
“I’m heading east, not west,” I said.
“You’re running from something. It’ll find you East. You know Lord Spencer?” Reverend Peabody asked, digging through his desk for an old cigar box. My heart fell when I recognized it, dad had kept his favorite cigarillos in it. He had told me he’d smoked the first one when he married Mum. The second when she told him she was carrying me, the third when I was born and the fourth when we had raised the house. The fifth when we’d purchased Diomed.
“Where’s the sixth?” I asked involuntarily and he shook his head.
“The box came with only a note and the cash in it. To be used for those in desperate need, signed by D’Arcy Spencer, Baronet.”
“There should have been a sixth cigar in it. He was saving it for the most important day of all,” I murmured. My eighteenth birthday.
“What day was that?” He asked sadly yet with complete understanding.
“Never mind. Can you help me? I need enough for a ticket East.”
“Food? A sleeper berth? New clothes? Definitely new shoes,” he pointed out. “If you’d like to take a bath, there’s a hot bath house down the road that doesn’t charge for our clients.”
“No, thanks. I’m in a hurry to catch the next railcar east.”
“They run every hour. You won’t miss it.”
Every hour? Last time I’d been here, they were every other day. He looked in the box, counted and handed me a lot of small script. They came to seven thalers, an amount that would get me enough for all those things and more. What was left in the box was a folded note and several new guinea notes in denominations of five hundred. I knew my father hadn’t, couldn’t afford to send that much–his entire inheritance would only be worth one such bill.
“Reward money?” I asked softly and he looked me straight in the eyes answering honestly.
“No. Bribes, yes but not from treachery, son. I have to be able to sleep nights.” I believed him and trusted him.
“You said down the street? The bathhouse?” I asked and he rubbed his palm on his forehead.
“Yes. Tell Girlie I sent you. There are some clothes in the shed out back. Help yourself to whatever you can find. If your situation reverses, remember to help those you can and pay it forward.”
“Thank you, Reverend Peabody. I’ll do that.” I went out the rear door and found the little add-on shack that held long poles down its length on two sides and rounded carrousels in the middle. Clothing in surprisingly good condition and from high end shops hung on hangers. Sized and color-coordinated. I chose heavy duty twill trousers that would hold up well in the brush, long johns, socks and three changes of shirts in broadcloth, linen and cotton. Two vests that could double as packs with all the pockets and a serviceable greatcoat with several capes over the shoulders. A hat as well as a hood for the coat. Boots that were a size too large but well-made and sturdy with a walking heel yet would protect my calves from pinching if I rode.
There was a younger Sister inside and she folded all packing them away for me. Last, she handed me a towel and a small cake of soap, smiled and pointed to the side door. When I exited, a bell jingled behind me.
I came out in an alley that was narrow but well lit by gas lights and swept clean of any refuse or debris. Other men and several children were walking ahead of me towards a cross street and when I reached it, I saw a broad avenue with more buildings of brick, many windows of a warehouse and the smokestacks of coal fired heaters. Squashed between a remnant store and a thread factory, walled off to provide bathing for the commons who did not have the room or the cash to heat their own water.
The attendant was asleep, his chin tucked into his neck like a tortoise. When I asked which one to use, he shrugged and waved his hand indicating ‘any’.
The rooms weren’t communal but one long pool divided by stone walls so that you could have privacy if you wanted or dip beneath the wall to enter the next stall. Or you could converse through the little window in the partition. The water was hot enough to make steam yet when I stripped off my rags and entered, I didn’t feel the heat other than it relaxed my muscles and made me languid. I lay there and soaked, it was wide enough for me to stretch out and deep enough to cover me to my chin.
Ducking under, I wet my hair and came up to scrub my scalp with my nails. I dug into every crack and crevice watching the circulating water take away the last two months’ filth.
The towel was fresh smelling and plush. I dried myself off and stared at my reflection in the placid pool. I looked the same, yet different. I looked older, more mature and taller. Darker with hooded eyes, more piercing than the child I’d seen before. I looked…dangerous especially when I smiled that certain way and my fangs were exposed.
I sighed and pulled on my long johns wishing I had those comfortable underwear that Arianell had given me. When I was clean, neat and presentable, I folded up the towel and left it on the bench in the cubicle. There wasn’t anything left of the cake of soap. On the way out, I paid the attendant a tip, telling him the Reverend Peabody had sent me. He nodded, wished me a good day and went back to his imitation of a turtle.
The streets were busy. I dodged kids, adults, workers and nobles all bustling about their business. There were a lot more handcarts than horses and when I stopped to inquire how they worked, was shown a curious mechanism that when pushed, stored energy so that they moved themselves along with the slightest nudge. No matter how much was stacked on top, the carts carried them easily.
There were other changes, too. What I had thought were gas lights were not fired by burning vapors but burned with a power that produced no heat, no smoke but simply light. Was easy to tap into and free. I curled my lips at that, no government Imperial would turn down a chance to rob the common people. And they certainly wouldn’t make life easier for them for ‘free’.
I found the rail section and there, more of the bright lights that transformed night into day. The terminals were not so crowded going east but there were many heading south and west. When last I had been in Fort Tigh, there had been only one rail car and it went only to Albans, a four day journey on a stinking, slow moving hand-powered car.
What I saw parked on the siding under a covered terminal was a forty foot long, opulent stateroom with a hundred seats. Others had sleeping berths, dining cars and even privies. I was shocked by the leap in technology since I’d last left Cayden’s Valley.
“I need a ticket to Caladia,” I told the ticket seller behind the barred cage window. He was in uniform and looked familiar. It took me a while but I recognized him as one of the Constables I’d spoken to while searching for the horses. He did not remember me.
“That will be one way or round trip?” he asked.
“Why? Does it make a difference?”
“Sure. One way is one way. Round trip is two ways. You only pay for one and a half if you pay for round trip,” he explained.
“One way. I don’t plan on coming back here.”
“That’ll be four thalers and two pence.” I handed him three script and he made change. “That buys you a seat in the lounge car, meals and a berther,” he said as he handed over a paper ticket stamped 32C. “This is your seat and room #. Don’t lose it.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll have to pay again if you can’t prove you have already paid and if you can’t pay again, the conductor will have you thrown into jail in Albans. You’ll go straight into the army, the Declan Brigade. They’re fighting at the most dangerous part of the front.”
I tucked it into my inner vest pocket. “I’ll keep it safe and close. I can board now?”
“No. The 7:15 won’t be in until 6:30. After they clean the cabins, change drivers, then you can board.”
“What time is it now?”
“Fivish. You have an hour and a half.” He studied me. “There are brothels on Carver St. or you can wait in our lobby just through those doors.”
He pointed to the ten foot tall gates that divided the terminal in half. On the other side I could see tables, chairs and people wandering about. Some had food, others their baggage.
“Food for sale in there, too?”
“Food. Beer, wine and liquor. Whatever you fancy except for fancy women. Those are down street.” He almost sneered at me. I knew he was thinking I was probably too young and too broke to pay for pleasure girls. I ignored him and walked through the gates pushing them open with my shoulder.
Inside was a small cafe in a large room that was clearly designed for waiting. Those inside were mostly families and well-to-do. Their nanny stood with their charges and the husbands at their wives side. Saw a few upper-class farmers with their kids and servants. A few lone young men in smart uniforms of the Scouts and Dragoons. I didn’t see any Rangers. They were armed.
The atmosphere inside was one of desperation and my presence made it all the more tense. They could feel that they were in the presence of danger but did not associate it with me. I found an empty bench against the wall and sat, pulling an aura of unfriendliness around me. It worked, no one came over to converse or question me.
Around 6:15, everyone stood up and milled about the doors. At 6:30, the gate pushed open and a smartly tailored man in a dark blue suit and cap called out board the 7:15 East and the 6:45 West. We formed two lines and only three of us were on the east line. Two of those were Dragoons which made me assume they were headed home on leave.
I followed like a chick after a gander onto the fancy railcar where he showed us our assigned places. I opted for my berth, locked the door and slept worry free for the next twenty hours.