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"Really? You think so, Richard Cypher?"
The spark of hope was gone.
"Faval, you stay here and make charcoal. Priska needs charcoal. The Order will arrest those people, and then that will be the end of it. You're a good man. I don't want to see you arrested."
Faval gri
"Good. I'll be back tomorrow night. But Faval, if there is still trouble, I may not make it tomorrow night. If there is still marching going on and the streets and roads are blocked, I may not be able to make it out here."
"I understand. You will be back as soon as you can. I trust you, Richard Cypher. You never let me down."
Richard smiled. "Look, if they are having a revolt tomorrow, and I can't make it out here right away, here's the money for the next load." He handed the man another silver mark. "I don't want those loggers to stop getting wood for you. The foundries need charcoal."
Faval giggled in genuine delight. He kissed the silver mark and slipped it down his boot. "The charcoal will be ready. Now, let me help you load your wagon."
Faval was only one of the charcoal makers with whom Richard dealt. He had a whole string of them he kept going so the foundries could have charcoal. They were all humble people just trying to get along in life. They did the best they could under the yoke of the Order.
Richard made a little profit selling the charcoal to the foundries, but he made more selling iron and steel he bought from them. Charcoal was just a small sideline to help fill his nights, as long as he was out with his wagon. What he made from the charcoal covered the bribes, mostly. He made a good bit more hauling the odd load of ore, clay, lead, quicksilver, antimony, salt, molding powders, and a variety of other things the foundries needed but couldn't get permits for or get transported when they needed them. There was as much of that business as Richard could want. It paid for the care of his team with some profit left over. The iron and steel was pure profit.
By the time he made it to the foundry with the load of charcoal, Priska, the hulking foundry master, was pacing. His powerful hands grabbed the side of the wagon. He peered in.
"About time."
"I had to wait for an hour after I came from Faval's while the city guards inspected the load."
Priska waved his beefy arms. "Those bastards!"
"It's all right-calm down. They didn't take any. I have it all."
The man sighed. "I tell you, Richard, it's a wonder I've kept my furnaces going."
Richard ventured a dangerous question. "You're not involved with the.
. trouble, in the city, are you?"
In the light coming from his office window-really no more than a hut-Priska appraised Richard for a time. "Richard, change is coming. Change for the better."
"What change?"
"A revolt has begun."
Richard felt the spark of hope grow anew, but stronger this time-not so much for himself, his chains held him too tenaciously, but for the people who yearned to be free. Faval was a kind man, a hardworking man, but he was not the clever man, the resourceful man, that Priska was. Priska was a man who knew more than it would seem possible for him to know. Priska had given Richard the names of all the officials who could be bribed for papers, and advised him how much to offer.
"A revolt?" Richard asked "A revolt for what?"
"For us-for the people who want to be able to live our lives as we wish. The new begi
"About what?"
Priska waved dismissively. "Come, give me my charcoal and then load your steel. Victor will bite my head off if I keep you."
Richard pulled the first basket out of the wagon and carried it to the side, where Priska added another.
"What have these people who starting the revolt done? What are their plans?"
Priska leaned close as Richard dragged another basket to the rear of the wagon. "They have captured a number of officials of the Order. High officials."
"Have they killed them, yet?"
"Killed them! Are you crazy? They aren't going to harm them. They will be held until they agree to loosen the rules, satisfy the demands of the people."
Richard gaped at the man. "Loosen the rules? What are they demanding?"
"Things must change. People want to be allowed more say in their businesses, their lives, their work." He lifted a basket of charcoal. "Less meetings. They are demanding to have their needs taken more into consideration."
This time, the spark of Richard's hopes didn't dim, rather, it plunged into icy waters.
He didn't much pay attention to Priska as they unloaded the wagon and then loaded the steel. He didn't really want to listen to the plans for the revolt. He couldn't help getting the gist of it, anyway.
The revolutionaries had it all figured out. They wanted public trials for those people the Order arrested. They wanted to be allowed to see prisoners. They wanted to have the Order give them a list of what had happened to a number of people who had been arrested, but never heard from.
There were other details and demands but Richard's mind wandered to other things.
As Richard was climbing up into his wagon to leave, Priska seized his arm in a iron grip. "The time has come, Richard, for men who care to join the revolt."
The two of them shared a long look. "Victor is waiting."
Priska released Richard's arm and gri
"That would be grand, Priska."
-]--
By the time he arrived at Victor's, Richard had a headache. He felt sick over what he'd heard, and what he feared yet to hear.
Victor was there, waiting for him. It was a little early, yet, for the man to be there; usually, he didn't arrive until closer to dawn. The blacksmith threw open the doors to his outer stockroom. He set a lantern on a shelf so Richard could see to back his wagon close.
Victor was wearing a wolfish grin as Richard climbed down.
"Come, Richard, unload your wagon, then we will have some lardo, and talk."
Richard went methodically about his task, not really wanting to talk.
He had a good idea what Victor wanted to talk about. Victor, as was his way, left Richard to unload. He was the man buying the steel, and enjoyed the service of having it delivered where he wanted it. It was a service he could rarely get from a transport company, despite the higher price.
Richard didn't mind being left alone. Summer this far south in the Old World was miserable. The humidity was oppressive, with the nights rarely better than the days.
As he worked, he thought about the sparkling bright days spent with Kahlan beside the brook at their mountain home. It seemed a lifetime ago.
His hopes of ever seeing her again were difficult to keep alive, but his worry for her, now that summer was here, never ceased. Sometimes, it hurt so much to think about her, to miss her, to worry, that he had to put her from his mind. At other times, thoughts of her were all that kept him going.
By the time he had finished, the sky was tuning lighter. He found Victor in the far room, the doors open wide so that dawn's light lit Victor's marble monolith. The blacksmith was gazing at the beauty in his stone, at the statue still inside that only he saw.
It was a long moment before he noticed Richard standing not far away.
"Richard, come have lardo with me."
They sat on the threshold looking out over the site of the Retreat, watching the miles of stone walls tun pink in the hazy dawn. Even from the distance, Richard could see along the top of one wall the vile figures representing the evil of mankind.