The Eyes Behind the Walls

Chapter Ten - Ammon

    Hooves pounded violently across the ground, neighing as people fled out of their way. Frightened shrieks echoed from around the streets, screaming into the night. People scattered from the narrow streets and into their houses, fleeing to safety. A man in a black cloak stepped down from his horse in the middle of the square, searching the eyes of everyone around him. Ammon watched from his cracked open window, frightened at the sight of the Hunters, knowing that no good could possibly come from their presence. He scanned the man up and down, trying to see his face. A harsh scar covered the left side of his face, slashing deeply from his forehead down to his bearded jaw. His hooded head prevented Ammon from seeing any other of his features, creating a terrifying vagueness to the figure.
    "Commander Henry has taken the throne. Anyone found plotting against the Elite or suspected of treasonous behaviour against our new Commander will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. The Commander has instructed us to undertake a more active role within the Port. From now on mandatory curfews will be put in place, as well as random searches of any and all properties existing within these walls. The dumps you live in are no longer considered private and are now privy to searches without warning, authorized by the Commander himself. There will be much more severe punishments for anyone who breaks the law, and we will be conducting constant searches outside the walls for traitors of the Elite. If you are found outside of these walls, you will be promptly brought back and executed without question in front of your friends, neighbors, and loved ones. No longer will we allow traitors and criminals to conspire in secret. We will restore order to this Port no matter the cost," he said. 
His gravelly voice roared throughout the streets, accompanied by whispers of wind and ravens squawking overhead. He mounted his horse and they trotted back toward the castle, leaving a residue of fear and apprehension behind them.
Mable looked over at him, mouth agape and wide-eyed.
"It has officially begun. This is the beginning of the end."
He opened the door and ran out into the street, sprinting towards The Rose. He pushed past people and slipped through the shortcuts between houses. He barged through the door and walked through the smoky room to the back to find William.
"Have you seen William?" he muttered breathlessly.
"He's in the back," he replied, concern in his eyes.
Ammon strode to the door at the far side of the room, pushing it open and bursting in. William was sitting at one of the tables, talking with a woman he recognized from the meeting.
"Ammon, are you okay? What happened?" he asked.
"The Hunters came. They said that Henry has taken over as Commander of the Elite. They're changing all the laws, everything. They said that mandated curfews will be put in place and they'll start raiding houses whenever they want. If you're caught outside the walls you'll be considered a traitor and immediately killed. They control the Port now, and there's nothing we can do to stop them," he explained.
"Calm down, we'll figure something out. I'll call an emergency meeting immediately."
"You can't! He said that if they suspect anyone of treason they will take immediate action. If the Hunters find out what we've been planning they'll surely kill us all," he said.
"It doesn't matter. If we have to live under their tyranny we'll all be dead soon anyway."
#
"Now that the Hunter's will be keeping a watchful eye on us, we're going to have to be much more careful about where and when we meet, and who we converse with. The only way they will discover us is if they find us during a meeting, or rather the much more likely scenario that someone tells them about our existence. It is pertinent that we keep our plans to ourselves and avoid discussing any of this with anyone outside of this room. The random searches and curfews will add an extra challenge. I will be careful not to document any of our business and those of you that can write would be wise to do the same. Lastly, do not under any circumstances break the curfew once it is put in place. If you are caught you will be questioned, and that can lead to our discovery. Our only goal right now is to figure out our next move and try to stay hidden in the shadows. Do you all understand?"
Heads from all around the room nodded, looking at each other with panic in their eyes. Everyone knew that discovery was not an option.
"Good, until next time," he said as everyone rose and began walking toward the door.
Ammon ducked his head down and marched out of the room, saying goodbye to Tommy and then walking into the sharp coldness of the night's air. He stomped his way home through the dark and empty streets, the night's events swirling through his head. He watched as his breath exited out, mixing harshly with the cold temperature. It swirled around in a white fog, the particles separating into the thin, damp surroundings. His body was frozen inside and out, his cheeks flushed a deep red and his fingers numb and lifeless. He clasped them together and rubbed them back and forth quickly, the friction slowly warming them up. He finally returned home, thankful for the warm air inside.
"Where have you been?" Mable questioned.
"I was just talking with some friends, I didn't mean to stay out all night. I lost track of the time," he explained simply.
"You were out awfully late, I should hope it won't affect your work tomorrow," she emphasized, a smug tone evident in her voice, "And with the Hunters behaving as they are, you could've gotten yourself killed!"
"I'll be up early tomorrow morning as usual, and I was being careful," he said.
"Careful!" she scoffed incredulously, "There is no such thing. The Elite have eyes and ears everywhere, don't forget it. These days you can trust no one! No one!"
He walked over to his bed, laying down and ignoring the presence of his aunt in the room.
"I'm going to bed now," he announced, trying to get her to leave him alone.
"I should hope so," she replied as she huffed and stomped off to her room.
He sighed, frustrated with her strict temperament. He was tired of constantly being treated like a child, always being looked down upon like he was lesser. He was a grown man now, and he should be treated as such, he reasoned.
#
    "Ammon, you'll be covering the front for the next few days. Commander Henry has decided to throw a feast to celebrate his new position. We'll be providing all the bread for the event, so I'll be living here in the meantime," She said.
"How many loaves of bread does he want?" Ammon asked incredulously.
    "I'll give you a hint. It's in the hundreds," he replied as he walked to the back.
    He made his way to the front and began working his way through the people one by one, exhausted after only a few hours.
"Jeanne, you're back sooner than usual," he said, a polite smile on his face.
    "Yes well, with three growing boys what can I expect," she replied, "I'll take another loaf of rye bread, please."
"Of course," he replied, "How are your sons doing?"
"Well, my oldest has started working for Tommy over at The Rose. So far he's enjoying the work," she said as he handed her the loaves, "Thank you."
"No problem, say hello to your family for me," he said with a smile.
    She walked outside, passing the herd of people waiting in line behind her. Ammon sighed as he looked back at the people standing in front of him, exhausted and ready to once again be relieved and make his way home for the day, only to start all over tomorrow.
A sharp scream rang from out in the streets, neighing and shouting arising in the mix. He watched as people ran in the opposite direction, panicking in the chaos. He ran out to the street, shoving past people as they ran in the opposite direction, pushing him backwards as they went. He searched the area, trying to find the cause of the commotion. In the distance he saw a loaf of bread on the ground getting trampled. His eyes widened in realization as he started sprinting towards the origin.
"Jeanne! Jeanne!" he shouted, trying to make his voice rise above the loud cacophony around him.
Her frail body was curled up on the ground beside the house across from hers. She sat there crying hysterically as a Hunter stood over her, the rest running around inside of her house. He ran over to her, kneeling down beside her as he watched them throw various things around and out into the street. They threw her clothes into puddles in the street and under the running feet all around them.
"Shhh... It's going to be okay," he said gently, glaring at the Hunter beside her, "Why are you doing this? She's done nothing to deserve it!"
The man raised his head, his cold dark eyes meeting Ammon's.
"Maybe not, but her son was found sneaking apples from the royal courtyard."
"How does that justify searching her home? You caught him in the act," he reasoned, "There's no need for any of this."
"We have to make sure she's not hiding any other stolen property," he said, a smug grin on his face.
"Where's my boy? What have you done with him?" she questioned deliriously.
"The Commander's new laws list that the punishment for thievery from the Elite is death," he said coldly.
"No!" she screamed, shouting numerous other unintelligible words at the Hunter.
She erupted into a hysterical sob, weeping loudly and burying her face in her hands. He hugged her, not knowing what to say. Tears rolled down her puffy cheeks, dripping quickly to the floor below. Onlookers gasped, whispering and pointing as they rushed past her. The Hunters walked out of her house and over to where they were sitting.
"We're all finished in there. She has nothing to hide."
The Hunter mounted his horse and rode back toward the castle, turning back to look at them as he left.
"My boy! My poor boy!" she shrieked, sobbing as he held her.
"I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do. You certainly don't deserve this."
He sat there and comforted her as people returned from their houses, checking on her and looking in curiously at her house. Papers and clothing were scattered around, lying in the street and on the floor. Broken furniture pieces were strewn about and her bread lay soaked in a muddy puddle, squished and sopping with brown water.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he mumbled helplessly,  "I'll go tell Shea of what's happened, he can take over the bakery and I will come right back and straighten up your house. It will be good as new in no time."
He spent the rest of his afternoon walking through the streets and picking up articles of clothing, rearranging and fixing her broken furniture, and trying to restore her house to its previous order. He walked with Jeanne as she went to her other son's places of work and told them the horrible news. He reassured them each time that everything would be okay, and hugged her every time she began crying. He walked them back to their house as they sobbed hysterically. The entire time he couldn't stop thinking that Mable had been right, Jeanne wouldn't be the only person to have her life ruined by the Hunters and the new Commander. There would be many, many others. This was truly the beginning of the end.