The Guild Massacre
Chapter Two: While I Breathe
At the airport, Marie only made one phone call. She stopped at a payphone and used an international card to call New Orleans. "Tell Momma the eggs are safe" was all she said into the phone. She quickly dropped the device back into its cradle, and threw an arm around my shoulders.
"Ready t' go home, Rita?" she smiled.
We passed through the terminal as "Mercedes and Rita Sanchez" without incident. Due to my broken ankle, she had to carry my bags. I never did see Franco – thank goodness. I wasn't ready to face him yet. His very presence would whittle away at my resolve. Eighteen hours and two layovers later, we finally arrived in New Orleans. The airport here was considerably smaller and less impressive than Hong Kong or Melbourne, but Louisiana's dinky terminals had something the big cities didn't: my family.
As soon as I saw the end of the hall, I saw Momma. She ran right past security and hugged me. Hugging her back was awkward with my crutches, which she fussed over endlessly. Papa and Rogue welcomed Marie and me with smiles and hugs. The twins were passed out in a bulky double stroller. My baby siblings were curled together like a couple of kittens, their brows moist from each other's body heat. I risked kissing them, and they stirred slightly.
I had a surprise guest, too.
Jean-Luc.
"Mon Dieu, how you've grown!" He gushed. Perhaps another grandfather might've embraced me, but that wasn't Jean-Luc's style. He would slaughter a room full of assassins with his bare hands to protect his family, but he wouldn't say he loved us.
"What are you doin' here?" I asked him.
"Surely you jest! I wouldn't miss this for de world! Years of work have finally come to a head. This is a glorious day. Glorious! Ah, I'm gettin' carried away."
He turned to the woman behind him. She was middle-aged and even-tempered. The glint in her hazel eyes and the Mona Lisa smile on her full lips were as soothing as a bed-side prayer. She wore her hair and clothes in the most unassuming manners, and stood with her hands together like a well-trained child. Her vibe was so soothing and lovely. So unlike Jean-Luc. I knew she was a good match for him.
"This is my wife, Marguerite. She doesn't speak any English. Cherie, ceci est mon petite-fille, Honor. Elle parle de meilleur Francais que son pere."
Marguerite and I smiled politely and kissed cheeks.
"Thanks for leavin' the mother-in-law at home," I told Papa while he helped me load my bags into the truck.
He smiled and hugged me with one arm. "You're tellin' me! I barely made it with just Rogue and de twins. She's gone off her rocker, I t'ink."
Momma shoved her elbow into his ribs and whispered to me: "Rogue's got de baby blues. Just be gentle around her."
Rogue cried when she couldn't get one of the car seats to buckle properly, and Papa rushed off to the rescue.
"Your godparents are sorry dey couldn't be here," Momma said, opting to ride with me in Jean-Luc's car. "Johnny's workin' on another album and 'Ro's deployed again. Africa, I t'ink."
"Just as well," I said seriously. "This is Guild business."
Guild initiations are a bit like Bat Mitzvahs. It's a huge celebration where everyone who had ever heard of the newcomer attends. There is a slight ritual involved, but mostly it's just a party. The more powerful the child's parents, the bigger the party and the more expensive the gifts. An outsider might've mistaken my initiation for a wedding. Every branch, stick and twig of my families came to my mother's ancestral house for my initiation. We had not had this many visitors since the Antiquary attempted to abduct me. In addition to Guild members, I had invited my friends from New York. Tess, Nate, Uri and Ethan all tried to adapt to their new surroundings as best as they could.
Meanwhile, I sat alone in my room. My stomach turned and boiled.
My mother fetched me in time for my own ceremony. I could barely remember the words spoken and repeated. The faces blurred together, time evaporated. My mind was a million miles away.
This was truly a first: a member of both the Assassins and Thieves Guilds. I knew the Guilds' histories stretching back to their establishment, and I knew better than most that no one had ever done this. After my father's brother died, the Thieves wondered if I would be their first matriarch. It was a badly kept secret that the Thieves use to work their women as prostitutes. My Tante Mercy was the first one to break that mold. She became a Thief, and was as good as any man. All of their leaders thus far had been men, but the Thieves were ready to prove they were progressive. Those loyal to Jean-Luc were ready to welcome me as their matriarch. In five years.
I was not so patient.
The ink on the paper was barely dry when I requested an audience with Franco and Marie.
Tess wordlessly cut through a stunned-silent mass. She followed as the three of us exited into an isolated room. The adjacent room was generally used for emergency meetings between key Guild members. This was the room where my grandparents worked out marriage negotiations for my parents. This was the room where my mother was elected matriarch.
Now, this would be the room where the coup was staged.
Marie and Franco took their symbolic seats at the heads of the elongated table. I stood between them, defiantly refusing to settle for a secondary position.
"I will be frank," I said boldly. To my credit, I sounded confident. "I will claim my birthright tonight. You two have enjoyed my regency long enough, but now I'm taking it back. Marie, do I have your support?"
"Of course! I support you wit' my dyin' breath!"
"Franco?"
"De Guilds are a democracy! You can't just sweep in here and decide t' change dat! I must be voted out, and you must be elected in!"
"It wasn't a democracy under my grandparents."
"Oui, dat's right. Marius once said: 'While I breathe, I rule'. If dat's de era you wanna revive, expect to fight against those just as ruthless."
"I can take your breath!" Marie stood with her hand to her sword hilt.
"Dat won't be necessary," I said calmly. "I had planned for dis."
She sat down tensely.
"You set me up, Franco," I said bitterly. "You gave me an assignment that even you couldn't complete. Den you made off wit' de reward. My reward. The only reason I succeeded was because of my mutant powers, which you know nothing about. De Thieves Guild protested such an extreme test, didn't they? But you were determined to watch me fry. You should've been prepared to fight those just as ruthless. You think you've won? Your prize is safely back in Australia right now. That disc you have is a copy. An encrypted copy, actually, that will deteriorate in three days. Do you think you can crack it by then?"
"I'll give you a hint," Tessa said, "It's a combination of thirteen different languages, including one I invented myself. I'd wager only a few people in the world can solve it in time, and Mr. Stark can them pay better than you can."
"What's gonna happen," I asked him, "When you have to go back to de client and tell him you were out-foxed by a little girl? Twice. What d' you think de Guilds are gonna do? Concede to me and spare your pride."
He was silent for a long time.
The living room began to whisper again when the little room opened and the occupants re-appeared.
I was well-aware of all the eyes on me. The Guilds weren't stupid or uninformed. I realized then how much we were like a family. Everyone knew everyone's business. Everyone had been watching for years while Jean-Luc and my mother moved us around like pawn pieces: buying loyalty here and favors there. It had all been for this very moment.
"Heil, Honor!" Marie called loudly, "Matriarch of de Assassins Guild!"
"H-heil, Honor," Franco echoed, "Matriarch of de T'ieves Guild."
At last, my destiny was fulfilled. How many people ever recognize their purpose? And I was still just a child. For the first time in my life, all the dead ends and missteps seemed to serve a purpose. All the questions and unanswered prayers, all the lessons and losses – everything made sense. I was exactly where I was always meant to be.
My life became completely immersed in Guild business. From dawn until the dead of night, I had to determine who was loyal to me and who stood in opposition. Those opposed to me had to be bought, coaxed or bullied, and then watched carefully. I had to determine what to do with the Council. Each Guild employs a Council of Advisors: typically the twelve closest in line to the crown. I didn't dare start dismantling the Council so early into my tenor. But twenty-four advisors? We'd never get anything accomplished! The Council wanted to keep only twelve members, but no one was willing to give up their position. I could've fired the bottom twelve, but in doing so would make enemies with half the Guilds.
Then, of course, there was the matter of secrecy. The Guilds were threatened by the possibility of a centuries-old foe being privy to their inner workings. This matter could've been resolved by a unification of the Guilds: something my parents strongly supported. The Guilds were united in name by my coronation, but Thieves were still Thieves and Assassins were still Assassins. I couldn't erase generations of training and prejudice. How would I even begin? Would we start training our youngsters how to steal and kill? We would become too powerful. The lines had been divided for a reason.
I realized Candra's wisdom too late.
The issue was temporarily resolved by keeping the Guilds separate. The Council would remain intact, acting on behalf of the lower members. I would act as ambassador and matriarch for both Guilds, electing my second-in-commands from each party. Naturally, my choice for Assassin-second was Marie. She inherited the position from her uncle Gris-Gris, and was devoted to my family and the Guild. Choosing a Thief-second was more difficult. The Councils wanted Franco. Although I was reluctant to give them this first victory, I had to admit that ousting him would cause political discord.
However, he declined.
"I feel that I no longer have a place among you," Franco said at the meeting. While I had hardly expected him to praise my offer, I was not prepared for his resignation. He would still be close to the crown. Wasn't that what he wanted?
I had to choose a replacement - and fast - before the Guilds started accusing me of favoritism. The Thieves Council had many candidates: Jean-Luc, Tante Mercy, Claude Potier, and my father's cousin Theo Marceaux.
"What about your father?" Momma asked me one night at tea-time. She sounded offended that he wasn't even a consideration.
"I was wondering when you'd bring him up," I said with a smirk.
My mother was as loyal as a hunting dog.
Against regulations, I was discussing the election with Momma, Rogue and outsider Mystique at our nightly get-togethers. My parents didn't have an official recognition within the Guilds, but they still held enormous sway.
"He may be an X-Man now," Momma said, "But he's always been a T'ief at heart."
"I think he enjoys his freedom too much," I told her. "I'm thinking about Theo… He is third in line."
"Theo's an idiot," Momma snapped, "Your papa was second. It's his inheritance as much as it was Marie's."
"The Council didn't elect him. I can't go against them so openly. Not so soon."
"This is de perfect time t' challenge dem. Show dem you're not a puppet."
I sighed and retreated to my thoughts. After a moment, I asked Momma to speak with Papa about it, and find out how he felt. I wasn't about to go to war without his support. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mystique hide a smile behind her tea cup. What was she hiding?
Being matriarch wasn't all plots, conspiracies and power struggles. There were enormous benefits, too. Coronation gifts poured in from every member. Leaders from as far away as Tokyo, New Delhi and Milan sent jewelry, deeds, and boxes full of lavish clothes. I surprised everyone, including myself, by declining these luxuries. Returning them would have been rude, so I distributed the wealth among my Guilds.
However, I kept the gifts my family gave me. Tante Mercy gave me the Thieves Histories. The volumes were bequeathed to her by my late Oncle Henri, and now they were mine. The Histories existed in copies, but I had the priceless originals. The most generous gift came from Jean-Luc, who gave me his ancestral home. The property was not the most expensive donation, but I know what it meant to him. It was his way of passing the crown. Even the dead had presents. The Old Man bequeathed a key to me, and a safety deposit box that I was to open after my eighteenth birthday. Momma said she had no idea what it could be.
In late October, we held a grand party. All the heads of Thieves and Assassins attended: eighteen American leaders and an additional twenty-seven from overseas, plus their spouses and second-in-commands. They had assessments to make, treaties to offer, favors to ask, and inevitably - negotiations to forge.
In my own humble opinion, the greetings went off perfectly. I spoke enough languages to befriend most of the leaders. Where I was ignorant, my parents stepped in. Between the three of us, we spoke every language in attendance. I was sweet and charming and unassuming: the universal expectation of a young woman. A few patriarchs were bold enough to approach my father personally. At first, I hardly noticed. I was too busy entertaining, learning and enchanting. But eventually, I realized these men were putting in bids for me. The knowledge came to me unbidden. These men wanted to begin marriage negotiations!
My blood boiled.
How dare they discuss my future! How dare Papa entertain the very notion!
Aware of my visible rage, I excused myself and went outside to cool off. Sitting in the dark by the bayou, I wept with anger. I shook with repressed words. I would never – never – love anyone but Tess. I would never take a man's name or bear his children. I only wanted to share those things with her. And if it meant war or banishment or damnation, then that was the price I'd pay.
Mystique and Rogue closed up the house in Poughkeepsie, and moved our family to New Orleans. Momma, Papa and I were consumed with Guild responsibilities. The stress on our family was a visible strain, so Momma mandated down-time and dates. In addition to Wednesday nights with me, Papa had to spend Saturday nights with Rogue, and Sunday nights with the whole family. Monday was his day of rest. I would take the twins on Saturday nights, and spend Sundays with the family. My down-time would be Friday. Momma and Rogue took their down-time on Tuesdays. We girls didn't have to make time for each other. We all ready had a nightly tea-time, and that sufficed.
I was surprised at how well the new schedule worked. After a few free nights, Rogue's demeanor completely changed. My stepmother even decided to begin a new career as a mechanic.
I was horrified. The family thought this job was too far below her. It was degrading for her to dress in jeans to do manual labor in soil and soot. It was unbecoming for her to be surrounded by foul-mouthed men every day. It was ridiculous for someone with her skills and looks and experience to dedicate herself to an occupation with high-school drop-outs and military rejects!
But she was happy.
Everything we hated about the situation was everything she loved. So we all had to swallow our pride and support her decision, although the pill burned all the way down.
Because of my schedule, I had to be homeschooled. The lessons came from Xavier Academy, but I had an independent tutor. Mr. Matthews was a mutant working on his bachelor's degree in chemistry. He was generous and clever, and before long, he had me enrolled in piano lessons at the River Ridge School of Music.
Being active in school gave me an escape. Still, I missed New York. Talking to Tess through phone calls and letters wasn't enough. Seeing her at the holidays wasn't enough. I missed her like air.
On Jean-Luc's last night in the States, my mother threw a banquet for just the family. I was suppose to help her, but decided to sit in my room and sulk instead. Papa stepped in, peeling potatoes and tenderizing the meat. He even joked about Momma's not-so-secret resentment towards my grandfather to raise her spirits.
"When Mystique leaves," Momma countered, "You'll be just as glad. You'll probably t'row two parties."
"You kiddin'? I'll lead de damn parade!"
I showed up in time to set the table. In addition to my parents and paternal grandparents, I would also be dining with Mystique. I really missed talking with people my own age…
"Have a good nap?" Momma asked.
I didn't answer.
"Chere, do me a favor and set out de nice china."
I looked at her for a long time. "Momma, I know you're glad Jean-Luc's leavin', but it's just Jean-Luc comin' over for dinner. He doesn't qualify for nice china."
"Humor your mother, will you?"
I rolled my eyes but complied.
A few minutes later, the twins were put down for the night, and the rest of us took our places at the dinner table. Momma really had out done herself, and I felt a little guilty for not helping. She'd made biscuits, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, collard greens and a chocolate cake all from scratch. The meat was a roast so tender that it almost melted. She even took the time to coordinate the wine, although I couldn't drink. Everyone told her again and again how wonderful dinner was.
"If I'd known you could cook like dis," said Jean-Luc, "I would've never let you divorce my son."
We all had a chuckle: even Rogue, thank goodness.
"Luc, if I ever make a meal like dis for you, it's laced wit' arsenic," Momma said. "Dis meal is for me. Now dat you're all fat an' happy, I have an announcement. I'm havin' a baby."
The table collectively dropped silverware, and Papa chocked loudly.
"Mon Dieu, Belle! Not while I'm drinkin'!"
Rogue patted his back and asked, "Why didn't you tell us you were seeing someone?"
"It was an immaculate conception," Momma answered.
"Oh, Jesu!" Papa laughed, "I t'ought you were serious!"
"I am, LeBeau."
I decided to save Papa any further embarrassment. "But… You said you couldn't get pregnant."
"Dat's what de doctors told me, but I don't put much faith in dem. I'd been tryin' t' have a baby for a while, and dey didn't t'ink I could do it. Apparently, I've still got some life left in me after all!"
I was stunned. This had to be a joke!
"We've got babies falling from the damn sky," Mystique said coolly.
"S-seriously?" I croaked.
"Jesu Christos! Why is dis so surprising?"
"Because you haven't had a date in three years!" Jean-Luc finally spoke. "You put de horse b'fore de cart, chere."
She covered my eyes and shot him a vulgar gesture.
"Oui!" Papa found his voice again. "Who you been makin' babies wit'?"
"Dat ain't important. Dis baby only got one parent. I've got de papers t' prove it. She might not have de usual conception, but she's still gonna have a family dat loves her."
My head spun. I saw a vision of Bishop: the same vision I'd had last year on the rooftop in New York. He turned to me and smiled. I was suddenly sick with understanding. I got up from the table and walked to the doorway. I was sure my vision was plainly written on my face, and my family would look into my eyes and know. Behind me, there was silence.
Momma wrapped her arms around me. "I know what you're thinkin'," she said quietly, "Your parents finally got dere shit t'gether, and now dey're makin' a new life for demselves. Ain't nobody gonna replace you, chere. T'ings change, but you'll always be ma tite fille."
I returned her embrace, feeling very much like her little girl. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. I had been challenging my parents on every level, and even anticipating arguments. I pretended like I didn't need them, but all I really wanted was some security. I was sure they would betray me in some unforgiveable way, and had tried to sever emotional ties to them. But now, in my mother's arms, all I wanted was to cling to them.
"Momma, you won't let Papa sell me, will you?"
"Quoi?" Papa snapped from behind us. "What de hell you talkin' 'bout? Sell you?"
"At my coronation!" I told Momma, "Everyone was turnin' in bids for me!"
My parents looked at each other, and Papa calmly explained: "Marriage negotiations."
"Oh, honey!" Momma laughed and hugged me. "Don't you ever worry yourself about men and dere plans! We femmes pull all de strings."
I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed again. I knew she would set things right.
"Besides," she continued. "Marriage for you is at least a decade away."
My stomach dropped.
"More like two," Papa added.
"See!" She led me back to the table. "Plenty of time t' be young and finish college and see de world b'fore you settle down. You're a very lucky girl. Soon as I was legal, my papa was pushin' me down de aisle."
"You're not listening to me!" I shouted, near hysterics. If I screamed loud enough, maybe I could wake myself from this nightmare. "I don't want t' marry some stranger! My God, what century are you people living in? I oughta be able t' marry who I want, like a normal person!"
"Did you t'ink it was all parties and glamour?" Papa asked, "It's a gilded cage, mon cherie. But don't get yourself so worked up. He won't be a stranger. And he ain't gonna be some pervert twice your age, either. Your happiness is always my priority."
I dug my heels in, refusing to return to my chair.
How could they?
Jean-Luc was frantically whispered to his wife in French. I didn't notice if he was translating or apologizing.
I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't cry.
"I know you've got your heart set already," said Momma softly, "No one's tellin' you t' waste your youth waitin' on a husband. T'ings change, petite. I know you can't imagine it now, but de day will come when you'll love someone else."
My throat constricted. My knees locked. I fainted dead away.
I dreamt my parents were in the little meeting room. Jean-Luc stood nonchalantly leaned against the wall while my parents paced and chewed their nails.
"Who were you talkin' about?" Papa asked. "Who's she got her heart set on?"
"Oh, LeBeau, you are so dense! Anyways, it doesn't matter. She's gonna marry some nice billionaire and have babies wit' him. A girl her age can't t'ink wit' her head. And we can't gamble de business on her heart."
"She's stubborn," Papa said, almost to himself. "Forcin' her might make t'ings worse."
My parents looked at each other for a long time, waiting on an answer. Finally, Papa asked Jean-Luc if he had any suggestions.
"Oui," he smiled, "You should've had a son. Boys don't care about t'ings like dis."
"T'anks, Pop. T'anks."
Author's Notes: Just a few things I'd like to mention here. One, you may or may not have noticed that Honor's accent is diminishing a little. That's intentional. Secondly, for those of you who aren't Southerners and don't know elderly-speech, "the baby blues" is now called post-partum depression.