Flight From Blithmore by Jacob Gowans

her close to him, and she breathed deeply as though being with him
unloaded a great burden from her. Darren looked over at them and whistled
lewdly. Henry responded with an angry look that told Darren to get to work.
    “It’s
like I’ve told you already,” Isabelle said, “he’s done nothing to make me
suspicious. He leaves me alone to do as I please.”
    “How
does he talk to you?”
    “We
only speak when we must, but it’s pleasant enough.”
    “Any
word yet from James?”
    Isabelle
shook her head. “Not even a note. I don’t understand it. It’s been almost three
weeks. I wish he were here, though. My father wouldn’t try anything foolish
with James nearby.”
    Henry
stroked her hair. He wished they had left when they had the opportunity, and he
blamed himself that they hadn’t. Now they depended not on themselves to make their
own destiny, but on the honesty of her father.
     “Everyone
put your work down!” he called over the noises in the shop. “I need to speak.”
The sounds of carving and sawing stopped at once. “I’m going to need your
assistance tonight, all of you.”
    “You
said we could have the night off!” they complained. “It’s a holiday.”
    “I
know you have plans and I don’t intend to take you away from the
festivities—and I’ll pay you double wages for the evening.”
    No
one raised any objections.
    “I
want all of you watching out for Isabelle, and I’m very serious about this.
Understand? I’ll give you specific instructions and I want them obeyed.”
    He
spent several minutes explaining what he wanted each boy to do. They weren’t
happy about what was required, but they cheered up when Isabelle thanked them
all with a kiss on the cheek.
    “Do
you think you’ll feel safe tonight?” Henry asked her after his boys went back
to work.
    “I
do, thank you.” She gave Henry a much longer kiss than those she’d given his
apprentices. “I’m going home now. I can’t wear this dress to a parade. What
will you be doing until it all starts?”
    “I’ll
track down Ruther to get his help, too.”
    She
flashed a brave smile. “We’ll get through this. Nothing is going to stop us.”
    As
evening came, Shop Street and the surrounding blocks filled to the brim until
there was barely enough room for the floats of the procession to pass down
Richterton Lane. Isabelle sent Norbin to the Vestin house to inform Henry and
the boys what she would be wearing to help them follow her. Ruther convinced
the owner of the tailor shop on the corner of Shop Street and Richterton Lane
to let him and Henry climb onto the roof so they would have a better view.
    “Trust
me,” Ruther insisted to Henry, “you’ll be able to see everything better from up
here, and the boys won’t have to look so hard to find you for directions.”
    Maggie
decided to join them, but sat away from Ruther, who brought his largest flask
to accompany him through the festivities. Pandemonium reigned below them.
Musicians and minstrels played their instruments on the stoops while crowds
around them danced and sang along. Vendors pushed their carts selling dried
meats and fresh fruits, cakes and breads, and small parade candles.
    On
the horizon the sun slowly set, but the thousands of candles and torches lining
the streets gave the illusion that the sun had not disappeared at all. As night
arrived and the fervor in the crowd reached its peak, Isabelle appeared with
her father. She wore a light blue dress with brilliant white gloves, her hair
decorated in almost a dozen large, pink bows. The bows made her easy to spot
from the rooftop.
    The
roars of crowds farther north in the city carried a long way. Henry heard the
cheers of approval and screams for candies and trinkets from the float masters.
Horns and drums announced the gradual advancement of the parade with occasional
fireworks bursting in the sky and outlining the few, faint clouds high above.
Henry found it difficult to not be distracted by the flashing