A Bullet Or Two

Chapter 5.3

Anyone earning less than those that could afford the grandest houses in East City; or that could travel across the entirety of The Quartered Kingdom; or that could dine on three course meals every night were cornered to the most run-down parts of the city.

Even Bourgerdown was more pleasant than those parts. Especially Woods Alley.

Houses parted for barely a metre in Woods Alley. Cobblestones formed the many slanted pathways causing anyone that dared to walk the streets to be wary of stones that jutted out, and parts of the houses to succumb to gravity.

At least once a month, some part of a house came down. The hanging shutters would slip off of their hinges. Or roof tiles would hammer the crowded street below. Occasionally an entire section of wall would collapse. Body parts would be pulled hours later from the wreck: an eye loose from its socket, an arm spilling out muscle and a bone poking out. Sometimes a head could be found mashed beneath a pile of stone.

Baron specifically funded an account for those occasions. Finances prepared for loss of life or building repairs. A pathetic response to the issues that the people had not caused. Delilah had signed off a few contracts for them and wrote letters of condolences with promise of change once she came into power.

So, whenever Delilah required assistance or a product, she found herself in Woods Alley, hiring labourers there to provide them with extra coins.

As they had neared the carriage Delilah broke off from Baron's arm and requested to visit her carpenter – a young woman that had worked in the trade since she was ten but trapped in Woods Alley at the behest of her new husband. Some begrudgingly nods later, Baron allowed her to leave; pressed his lips to her forehead and sent Jonnie to accompany her. "Keep her safe." Then, he left them.

---

The walk to the carpentry shop was not long. About an hour at Delilah's slower pace. Jonnie steered them through a longer route, down the canal to avoid any potential catastrophe that regularly occurred in the poorly-built streets that led to Woods Alley.

The canal fit one or two boats, if they were small, between its banks. It was the most scenic part of East City; the only section filled with wildlife and vegetation other than her garden and the main square. Willows traversed either side. Flocks of geese, ducks, and swans would nest there in the spring, spotted in shaded areas beneath the hanging trees. But, as Autumn neared, the flocks dwindled.

Delilah was rarely allowed to walk alone anywhere, though it was one of her favourite things to do. Walking through the streets, along the canal – anywhere away from the townhouse – made her feel like a normal person again. Like a commoner free of burdens and able to do as she wished.

Jonnie, of course, was the one exception to the normalcy she wistfully imagined as they continued to walk in silence.

Every Sunday he would escort the Franklyns to the Temple, and then follow her around like a dog on a leash. A reminder of how far from normal she was.

As they neared the turning off the canal into Woods Alley, Delilah checked her cloak pocket for the money. Coins clanged together at her touch, causing her to let out a heavy breath and turn her head to the ground. "I'd keep my hand around that purse if I were you." Jonnie relaxed from his march. His shoulders lugged down, and his lanky body closed in beside her. "I know." She gripped the small sack in one hand and the cheap stick in the other.

"Want to lean on me?"

Delilah passed a brief look to him and his hovering arm. His top buttons were undone but the hat remained, crushing the blonde fringe billowing out across his forehead. His eyes did not meet her own, rather they observed the whitening knuckles of her hand around the handle.  Then, his own hands shuffled into his pants' pockets.

"Or not..."

"Sorry. I think I will be fine."

"Just say if you're struggling at any point."

They continued on without words, but Jonnie stayed tucked in, less than an arm-length away should she need him.

Mothers scolded their children. Husbands screamed at their wives. Wives screamed back. Smashes of glass against tavern walls could be heard from outside. All sounds echoed throughout Woods Alley. Babies cried. A man and woman moaned as he pounded into her on one of the side streets. 

The sun was at its highest when they left the Temple, but it's rays hardly illuminated the impoverished region of East City. The residents lived in an eternal evening and night. Delilah was surprised that the couple were the only ones fornicating. On previous visits, she had witnessed numerous in short succession as she strolled down a single street.

The Alley was crowded. A place unsuited for someone that was currently impaired. 

Jonnie did his best to keep Delilah safe from sudden barges and unwarranted comments from loiters. Nonetheless, some got through – light shoves unbalancing her legs or vulgar suggestions that she join them in doorways. And when they did, Delilah pushed onwards, ignored their propositions, and hesitantly resigned to clinging onto her companion. Then there was also the issue of the puddles of urine and crap. 

As they neared the carpentry shop ammonia tangled with something putrid and suffocated the clean air until there was none. Delilah calculated each step, preferring not to land in any of the excretion and have to pay for her boots to be cleaned again by an overpriced shoeshiner. The smell. The warmth and wetness. The quantity.

Delilah was glad she did not live there, but her heart clenched with guilt that there were others that did.