Tale of 2 Cities: bridging the gap
Lilian deals with the repercussions of betrayal and Jem disappears
In Part 1, Lilian is trying to discourage Jem from crossing the bridge to the mythical twin counterpart of their own city, Alinakard. No one has ever returned from the eastern bank, but the first person to do so will be granted one request of their choice. Jem has been dreaming about it for years. Her pack is ready, the bridge guards have been bribed - and then soldiers from her father’s household arrive.
Lilian jerked her hand from Jem’s clasp, forcing the rash noble to stagger to one side.
“No,” she said, her heart beating fast. “I told them to meet us here, Mistress Diamous.” She carefully enunciated Jem’s title in front of her family’s soldiers. “After our conversation in the salon this afternoon, I knew Magister Diamous would be interested in my information.”
Jem’s face crumpled, and Lilian clenched her fists to stop them from reaching out to comfort her. She had to play the part of a cold-hearted mercenary out here on the street; every facial twitch would be reported back to Jem’s father and (more importantly) Jem’s fiancé. Each slice of pain she inflicted on Jem now would safeguard her lover’s freedom and reputation.
“D’shem!” Jem spat at her. Lilian flinched at the ancient insult, and then Jem was gone in a swirl of navy-blue coats and the smell of boot polish. A hard-eyed sergeant stepped in front of her, his lips twisted in disgust. “Go home,” he said softly. “This never happened, and you were not here.”
Lilian ducked her head and skittered away, bouncing off Kinley in her race to comply. The city guard rubbed at his stubble as he watched her leave.
“Is there a problem?” The sergeant challenged him, using the same tone of voice as he would address a cockroach.
“Nah, no problem,” Kinley said easily. He broke into a wolfish smile. “Nice uniform, you’ve got there, mate. I hope it stays clean an’ you have a safe journey home.” The sergeant scowled at the subtext and stalked away. From behind Kinley came a huffing noise as his fellow guard exhaled.
“You shouldn’t rile them up like that,” Stumpy muttered.
Kinley shrugged as he walked to the gate booth and swiped the keys with one, long arm. “They weren’t going to start anything, mate. I could’ve dropped my pants and pissed on their shoes whilst whistling the Duchy Song and all I’d get is a dirty look. They were never here, see?”
Stumpy shrugged. His lips were pursed and eyebrows scrunched, indicating deep thought. Kinley locked the gates, giving a lackadaisical salute to the city at the other end of the bridge. From his viewpoint, he could see the first flames creep up the walls of the empty buildings.
“We should get paid extra for this,” Stumpy muttered beside him, dropping the iron bars in place, over the handles. “It’s unnatural, watching that place burn every night.”
Kinley sniffed. “Ah’m used to it now. Stumpy?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t do it. I know yer thinkin’ of going to bigwig Diamous for more cash. It won’t end well. That man’s earned his reputation.”
Stumpy didn’t answer straight away. Instead, he adjusted his belt across his wide, soft stomach and slid a hand into his pocket. Kinley heard the jingle of coins.
“No,” Stumpy said at last, his eyes fixed on the burning spectacle across the river. “Don’t you fret. I’m not going to cause any trouble.”
*
Lilian meticulously applied her lipstick, tracing pigment across her plump lower lip, never once looking up into her reflection’s gaze.“D’shem…” Jem whispered in her imagination.
She who is defiled. Unclean. Filth. Lilian had heard it hurled at the dock whores, but never at herself. It hurt more than she cared to admit. Instead, she pulled out the corner drawer in her dresser and picked up the small, wooden perfume bottle secreted there. It was faded and cracked but it still held her mother’s scent of musk and amber. On impulse, she dabbed it in the hollow between her breasts; a fragile shield against the world.
“You can’t choose what the world says about you,” her mother had counselled her. “But you can choose how you react. Don’t give them power over you. Hold your head up high and never cry. You come from a long line of night pearls who served the gods themselves.”
So, Lilian tied her hair high and set out the card tables. She summoned a trio of musicians to her balcony and sent red-ribboned invites to the banks, law courts and assembly chambers. She would drown that little voice in work.
“Who will love you now?”
She held court on her couch, dispensing jokes, innuendo and quips as fast as she could. A young man - a merchant’s son, by the cut of his jacket - sat at her feet, showering her with praise whilst he tried to look up her skirts. She slapped his hand with her fan.
“I dream about it, Lilian. There's a voice in the city, and it's calling my name.”
Jem’s dreams were always about that damned city. Why couldn’t she want something sensible?
A glove grazed her shoulder, recalling her to the party. She smiled upwards at Mr Lemuel, a banker dressed in the latest fashion. “It’s a pleasure to be here again, Pearl Lilian,” he murmured. “I heard a rumour you were about to retire.”
"It wants me there." Jem whispered in her thoughts.
She made a face at Lemuel. “From the other night pearls, Sirrah?”
He chuckled. “I don’t mix with anyone else in this quarter, Lily.” He leaned in, closer to her ear. “Do you have anyone I can play at cards?”
She nodded discretely to the far corner, with its bevvy of councillors next to the wine-stand. “Try your luck there. Consol Mirrop and Tamroy have overdue ships and Lord Casterdon has not paid his tailor in two months. They might benefit from your…patronage.”
He kissed her collarbone and walked off. The merchant’s son went yelping after him and for a brief moment, she was alone in the overheated room. Outside, she could see the trees burning in the city across the river. Tonight’s display was unusually fierce - or perhaps she was simply more alert to it. That could have been Jem burning over there, right now. If Lilian hadn’t betrayed her.
"I've got to do it." Jem’s ghost rebuked her.
“A blatant shake-down,” a voice drawled in her ear. With a start, Lilian looked up, past the silver belt buckle and crumpled black shirt, to Kinley’s scowl. He was watching Lemuel at the card table.
“They know what they are getting into.” she retorted. “What are you doing here? I don’t usually invite street guards to my soirées.”
“I’m off-duty, which is lucky for you. We need to talk.”
Lilian pressed her lips together. She could push him out, but the disturbance would end the party early. Instead, she guided him to the balcony. No one was out there; the music, wine and gambling were much more interesting than the nightly scenes from hell.
“You have five minutes,” she stated. “And you leave quietly.”
“Fine by me. I’ll be counting ma fingers n’ teeth as soon as I hit the street anyway. It’s a fine party of thieves you have here, miss.”
“Pearl. Pearl Lilian. And these are people who make our laws and govern the city. Your salary depends on them.”
Kinley opened his mouth to retort, then gave her a thin-lipped smile instead. “You don’t belong here,” he said gently.
Lilian blinked. “Then you are the first to ever say so, Mr…?”
“Ross Kinley. An’ I say so because you’ve got a heart. You were tryin’ to save your girl on the bridge earlier. That’s more n’ this lot will do.”
Lilian swallowed back the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. “Well. I did what I had to. She’s safe now.”
Kinley made a face. “She’s not. Neither are you.”
Lilian licked her lips. Suddenly, despite his scruffy exterior, Kinley loomed over her. “You have no proof. Don’t try to blackmail me. I can call on three magistrates and a colonel to arrest you at this very party!” She bristled, very aware that her fluffy silk dress wasn’t the best outfit for intimidation.
Kinley stared at her in stunned silence, before barking out a laugh.
“Huh. Naw - no, that’s not what I meant, Pearl Lilian. You’ve got a dark mind there.” He drew in a little closer. “Little Miss Diamous is missing. They’re searching the estate for her right now, but we both know where she’s gone. It’s only a matter of time afore they come for you an’ me.”
“What! Why?”
“Cause Stumpy - the bloody idiot - went sniffing around for more cash. He got as far as the estate’s sergeant who accused him of kidnapping the Diamous heir. Stumpy isn’t the brightest spark in the book and he ran, rather than deny it. I found him the in pub an hour ago, still blubbering. We’re guilty by association. The Magnate made his fortune through death-dealing an’ she’s his only child.”
Lilian went silent, her brain whirring frantically. She had heard the tales too - from Jem - and Kinley was correct. Magnate Diamous was a bad enemy to have.
Within her rooms, the music died to a squeak. The murmurs of the party-goers rose, then fell again.
“I might be able to call in a few favours,” she said slowly.
Kinley made a face. “Good luck. Possession is nine fingers of the law an’ no one’s going to lift their tenth if we go missing. We can ride down to the harbour an’ make the tide if we go now. A head start.”
Lilian stared at him. “So why did you come here to warn me? You could be halfway there by now.”
For the first time, Kinley looked discomforted. “Lack of lucre, ah’m afraid. But a well-connected pearl like yourself should have some treasure on hand, yeah?”
Lilian opened her mouth to demur - but a new voice interrupted. It was deep, rich and loud, silencing all other conversation.
“Be assured, gate-guard, you could be on a ship with seven sails, stuffed with the treasures of the seven seas and I would still hunt you down before dawn.”
Dazed, almost dream-like, Lilian turned. Framed in the doorway, with the Diamous dark locks lank around his face was the Magnate. Behind him, Lilian’s salon was crammed with soldiers.
Great foreshadowing with Stumpy - I knew he'd muck everything up for them the moment Kinley mentioned money. Also the whole scene of Lillian playing the "distracted hostess" was perfect. Reminded me of the subtle tension in the book, Memoirs of a Geisha.