Her name was Raven

Chapter 12

Ever since the roadside Raven had felt them, a presence was the closest thing to it. Sometimes she even thought she could hear them. She'd blamed her weak state at the time, but since her rescue it had been growing stronger... thoughts that weren't hers, things that would suddenly appear in her head that made her wonder where they came from.

Perhaps I'm going mad. She thought to herself. Plenty of people are mad, it's entirely possible.

It wasn't until a man at the bar looked strangely at her Raven realised she'd spoken aloud.

Of course talking to yourself won't help matters, she chided herself.

Billy had given her a job as a waitress and Raven was working for the second time. She was getting the hang of waitressing and she had some money of her own. It wasn't much, but it was something. Robert was coming back in a week as well, which had lifted everyone's spirits. Clara was nearly fully recovered now; there was no sign of her illness. Life was continuing on, and for once it presented no complications to her, Raven. Aside from the presence she felt a sense of normality for the first time since she'd ran from her prison.

***

There were whispers in the underground. In sordid streets and dark alleyways the fragments of stories made their way to keen listeners. In a run-down pub located in a rather foul part of the city a man passed off coin to a drunkard who'd told a story he'd heard from his wife's sister. The man was overdressed for the setting and scheming eyes turned his way, but they sensed something about him, a menacing power that made them scurry into the shadows like the rats they were. This was no rich fool to be played; he was here on dark business.

The man gathered his hat and cane and left the pub with distain. He loathed those who showed a lack of person hygiene. There were few who displayed this quality as vividly as drunks. He hailed a cab and told the diver to make haste to an address in the wealthiest part of town.

He paid the fare and rang the bell. The manservant let him in and he brushed past him to the study.

"I'm expected." He said curtly and shut the study door in the butler's face. The butler stood in the hallway holding the man's hat, gloves and coat for an instant before habit kicked in and he stowed them in the cloakroom.

In the study the man told his associate about a rumour of a child miraculously cured of an unknown sickness. They spoke for hours before he left, showing the same distain for the butler as he had the drunk. But he left with some small satisfaction, the satisfaction one gets as one squashes an annoying bug.

***

Work was good in the tavern. Raven was exhausted but exhilarated at the normalcy and sense of purpose that the simple tasks provided. She served and went back to the little house to help Katherine mend at night. Since Clara was well now, she helped regularly as well. Every now and then Raven would touch her locket without thinking, but she had long since banished any thoughts of Duran. Instead she hugged Clara goodnight, assisted Katherine wherever she could, and even flirted with some of the young workers that frequented the tavern.

Robert brought news from far-away lands. Rare stones and gems, and metals such as gold and silver, were rumoured stashed or horded by the colony countries mining them. The prices of gold were very near ridiculous, Robert exclaimed one night. He constantly remarked he was glad he traded in cloth.

Raven walked into one evening on Robert and another tall, well-dressed man Raven assumed was another merchant. They were speaking in low voices, but they were clear enough for Raven to hear. She paused.

"...is rolling in his money. The Lords are laughing at us. This is madness, surely. How could they still be in possession of so much when our shipments into the country are barely existent?"

"Everyone knows they have their ways to keep their power. It doesn't surprise me. Trouble is coming though, mark my words, if they control all the trade of gold and silver it won't be long before they strike a bargain with the gentry folk to buy the rest of us. Tread carefully my friend."

Robert glanced up as he finished speaking and silenced his company.

"Raven, good evening. How is the tavern?"

"The tavern fares well, uncle," Raven answered with the endearment she'd taken to calling Robert. Rather than introduce his company Robert shared a silent farewell with the stranger who brusquely left.

"And how are you, Raven?"

"I'm fine, who was that?"

"Just a fellow merchant,"

"is something wrong?"

Robert saw the faint worry on Raven's face.

"Never you mind, trade's difficult for some now, that's why I deal in cloth. Everyone wants to be warm and covered."

Raven smiled at him and turned to the kitchen. She prepared dinner and mended clothes and all the while the stranger's words played in the back of her mind. Something about them tickled a memory, so very fragile and hard to reach. Gold, silver, shiny things... that's what makes the world go round...