Chapter 7

The tenements have been the most rundown part of Valenfall as long as Renzo can remember. Some buildings seem cobbled together from wood, mud, and straw, others are tall brick structures with peeling plaster and signs of water damage. Renzo makes his way towards one with a yellowed exterior and paint chipping off the window shutters. It has what could charitably be called a front yard: a parceled-out patch of dirt with clumps of grass.

A young woman stands there, wearing simple linen clothes. Her dark brown hair is clumped with dirt and tied back in a messy ponytail. Her youthful face looks matte from streaks of dirt. Her calloused hands grip an axe tightly as she brings it down on pieces of wood, which she quarters and tosses onto a pile. Renzo pays close attention to her motions, and she looks back at him, puzzled, too shy to speak up.

He knocks at the wooden door. "Myrine?" he asks.

There is commotion behind the door. It opens slightly to reveal a middle-aged woman peering through the crack. "By the gods, is it you?" she asks, straining her eyes. She looks gaunt. Her cheeks are sunken. Her hair, or whatever is left of it, is bundled into frayed, messy gray bun.

"Please, come in." She waves her hand. "I can’t believe this. By the gods, did they let you out?" she asks shutting the door behind him.

"You could say that," Renzo says.

"Well, good for you. I hear they hardly let anyone out," she says, hurrying toward a tiled kitchen. The counter looks spotless. The place smells like potatoes and carrots, with a hint of lavender from the dried flowers hanging in the walkways. She takes out a soup bowl, pours some broth for Renzo, and serves it with a torn off bit of bread. He takes a sip and thanks her, sitting down at a rickety chair on th opposite side of a table.

"What brings you here, Renzo?"

"I’m here to ask about Keiren."

The woman immediately looks away. The wrinkles magnify. She furrows her brows and looks in her lap.

"I know this might not be the best occasion, but I haven’t been able to keep in touch with anybody from the guard. I figured, of all people, you might know what happened to him," he continues.

The woman begins to tear up. Renzo goes quiet.

"Is he…?" he finally asks.

"They killed Keiren." Myrine weeps. "He wouldn’t swear fealty to that Kalandor." She sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

Renzo sets the bowl back gently on the nearby table, pursing his lips. "I’m really sorry to hear that. Keiren Ginstern was the best comrade I could ask for in the guard."

The woman only weeps louder when he says that. He waits for a moment to let her catch a breath.

"If you don't mind me asking, do you know anything about Ferrip, Hanrad, or Dersey?" he asks.

"They’re all dead!" she yells, cutting him off. "Everybody who refused, and everybody who was suspect." She breaks down in tears. "Oh, my Keiren..." she rocks back and forth, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

Renzo pulls his chair closer up and puts a hand on Myrine's shoulder. "I know it must have been hell for you both." He pauses. "That girl in the front yard – she’s Keiren’s, isn’t she?"

Myrine stops sobbing for a moment. "Katrina. Yes, but she’s not a Ginstern. She’s a Demeris. She was born a bastard, he could not acknowledge her and... we couldn't get married before he..." She starts sobbing again. "The Crown left us with nothing..."

"Keiren told me about her before. He would smile every time he mentioned her..." Renzo gently pats the woman's back. "I know it isn’t much, but I promised him if anything happens, I would remember his family. I could help look after you, and her."

"Do not involve her in anything," Myrine demands with a breaking voice. "Katrina is the only thing I have left." She sniffles. "Please, just look after yourself."

Renzo stays with the woman, finishing his soup while she gathers her composure.

"I’m sorry I can’t give you anything else," Myrine says, catching her breath, "but the people you knew from the guard... they’re almost all gone. The world you knew is gone, Renzo. Including my..." she stops and begins to tear up again.

"I see," Renzo says with a heavy sigh and takes a moment to stare in the distance. "Thank you," he says, standing. "I must hurry. I shan’t bother you any more."

On his way out through the yard, he turns to Katrina. She looks back at him inquisitively. Her dark eyes don't break contact with him for a second. They look fierce and courageous. "You have your father’s sense of balance. I can tell," he says. "Keep it up." Katrina raises an eyebrow. She opens her mouth slightly as if to say something, but quickly closes it and shifts her head to the side, then tries to wipe the dust from her cheek, only smearing it. He smiles at her and leaves.

She watches him walk away in confusion. Once he disappears past the corner, she drops the axe and goes into the house.

"Ma, who was that?" she asks.

"Who was who? Oh, that man? That was nobody. Don’t concern yourself with it, dear," her mother says, wiping her face and turning away. "Just an old acquaintance."

"But the man mentioned my dad. Did he know him?"

"Please, child–"

"Tell me, was that man... did he work with my father?"

"Stop asking, I said. We need to finish stoking the fireplace."

"But, Ma!"

"I told you already! Please, Kat, be a good daughter. Help your mother! You’re the only thing I have left."

Between her sighs, Katrina slouches her shoulders. "All right, Ma," she says, and turns to bring in wood.

---

The sun is close to setting as Renzo makes his way back through a side alley, avoiding the main road going back to the inn. He hears a commotion and peers around the corner of another old building. There, he sees Jarel surrounded by armed men with short swords and the emblems of Valenfall’s city guard.

"Where have you been recently?" one of them barks.

"Oh, just around," Jarel says, avoiding their piercing eyes and waving his hand. "You know, visiting friends, and lady friends, and–"

"Have you seen a man with metal legs, perhaps?"

"Metal legs? They make those nowadays?" Jarel says and chuckles. "I think I would have remembered if I did. I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you don't mind..." He starts walking to the side.

A guard puts a hand on his chest and shoves him back against the wall.

"Jarel Tynvist, you are suspected of conspiring with Renzo Hashima. We have witnesses who saw you two in a tavern. You’re under arrest," he announces.

Hearing this, Renzo gets ready to jump from behind cover. He hears the sound of horse hooves clacking. Looking the other way, he sees more guards and a carriage coming up the street. There are at least ten men, with pikes and crossbows and heavy armor. Gritting his teeth, he hides, listening to the heavy metal clink of shackles and Jarel’s grumbling before they close the carriage door and take him away.