I follow Dutch and John on the road that leads to Saint Denis.
The sun is low and it projects our long shadows on the soil in front of us.
"How did you find him so quickly?" asks John.
"It seems that Mr. Angelo Bronte is well known. A rich and powerful man with a beautiful house in the city centre. Find him wasn't hard" answers Dutch.
"Great so…now we're catching some more unrequited attentions on us" I say bitterly.
"It's necessary, if we want Jack back. And then it was you who insisted to come, so it's your choice to expose yourself" replies Dutch.
"I don't worry about me. But cause more troubles means putting in danger the rest of the group and I don't want that what happened to Sean happens to someone else" I say coldly.
"That won't happen again, I promise, to both of you."
It looks like he believes in what he's saying, but he's not all-powerful and he can't predict the actions of everybody.
Saint Denis is exactly how I imagined it. A mass of steal and sewer, full of drunks and beggars. It has some good aspects, though: wide streets, a good park, shops with attractive windows…
We turn left and travel a series of little alleys until we reach a big wooded square. We get down the horses and stop in front of a house.
"Must be it. Let's wait for Arthur" says Dutch sitting on a bench.
"I know you're nervous, son" he adds to John when they sit down.
"But remember to keep calm. We don't know who we have to deal with, so just let me do the talking. The same is for you. I let you come with us, but don't you think you can go inside there and say what you please" he says looking at me while I stand in front of them.
"I'll be good, I promise, but if they try to fool us…"
"They won't. You just do your part and I'll do mine. And we'll take that boy back. Tonight."
He finishes with such a determination that I'm not able to add nothing else. We just stay quiet and wait for Arthur.
After a couple of minutes we see him coming from the street.
"There you are" says Dutch standing up.
"What is she doing here? I thought you said me, you and John" says Arthur getting down his horse.
"I'm happy to see you too, Arthur" I joke.
"She insisted to come. Have you found something else about this guy?" asks Dutch heading towards the house.
"Not much, just that he's some slick, little, greasy-haired European who's clearly got power and money. Now, listen, if we go in there and start shooting up the place, the boy's gonna get shot. That I guarantee. Feller like this is gonna have a lot of protection."
"Ain't no one gonna get shot, Arthur, so everyone just relax. We'll charm him. Trust me" replies Dutch.
Bronte's house is classy and majestic. To protect it, there's a heavy iron gate and a high wall.
"Excuse me, sir. We have an appointment to see Mr. Bronte" says Dutch to the man at the entrance.
"Who are you?" he asks.
Dutch gets close enough to be able to grab him through the bars and hit his face on the gate while with the other hand he takes his pistol.
"You get your boss down, here and now, so we can talk this like gentleman" Dutch threats the man.
"Was that the special Dutch charm I heard so much about?" jokes John when the man stumbles away.
"Relax…I got this" he replies.
More guards come at the entrance. They open the gate and let us inside. We all walk with our hands up and I'm ready to see my gun taken away, but this doesn't happen. They simply watch us while we walk through the front door of Bronte's house.
The interiors are covered with a red and gold wallpaper and colorful carpets. When we pass the entrance they lead us inside a little living room with black covered couches. A man with a red night gown is laying on one of them. He looks at us with a haughty gaze and then says something in Italian that none of us understands. One of the guards replies something else to him.
"Why did you take his son?" inquiries Dutch.
Bronte moves his eyes on him: he looks surprised and annoyed by the sudden interruption.
"Excuse me?" he asks sitting upright.
"I said…why did you take his son?" repeats Dutch with a threatening voice.
Mr. Bronte keeps looking at him for an endless time.
"We ain't got no problems with you, sir. Nor you with us. But if you wanna start one, there's gonna be a lot of folks dead in this room before it's done" adds Dutch when he receives no answer.
Tension raises. Bronte's men exchange a look and point their rifles in our direction. Arthur and John's hands jump on the holsters.
I do the same while the Italian doesn't move his eyes from Dutch.
"So, you walk into my city, stinking of shit and looking like this, and you come into my house, before you have a bath and you tell me how to act?" asks Bronte.
He talks with a foreign accent, with a lot of stress on the 't's and 'r's.
"You ask me to show compassion? Have I not shown you almost infinite compassion already by simply allowing you to breath in my presence?"
His tone scares me and now I fear he's going to kill us all, right here, right now.
"Indeed you have" says Dutch putting up his hands again.
"Now…we are simple country folks. All we have is each other and you have gone and you have took his son, over some dispute with some inbred ex-slavers."
While he speaks, Dutch reaches the couch right opposite to Bronte and sits. These people seem to care a lot about good manners and what Dutch is doing doesn't look Italian seems to share my opinion because he looks at him with a disgusted face.
"And it ain't got nothing to do with anyone of us" ends Dutch.
"You had nothing to do with destroying the liquor business?" yells Bronte making me jump.
"We was innocent bystanders. And that which we weren't innocent of, well we…we most surely were ignorant of" replies Dutch.
He keeps speaking quietly, like he doesn't fear him. But me, on the contrary, I'm afraid of this man. From the way he talks he seems capable of everything.
"You, you…you twist words…you lie shamelessly, you think you are better than everyone else…" says Bronte.
Now, we're really fucked up, I think gulping.
But then Bronte laughs and says something in italian to his men. Not able to understand what's happening, I look at my companions. They apparently can't neither. Bronte stands up and shakes hands with Dutch who turns to us making the presentations.
"These are Arthur Morgan, John Marston and Fre…"
"Miss Faraday" I say stopping Dutch.
"Ah…a woman with a strong personality. My pleasure" says Bronte touching lightly my hand with his lips.
We sit on the couch in front of him while one of his men serves us something to drink. I take one of the little glasses, but I don't touch it.
"So, can my friend have his son?" asks Dutch friendly.
"Of course, of course. But…should I be out of pocket over a misunderstanding? Of course I know you would not want that…"
Dutch glances at us first, then he replies with an insecure "No".
"No, no, no, so, how about this? You perform a simple job for me and you get your son back."
Of course, that was too easy. He gives nothing for nothing.
"What is it?" asks Arthur with a sigh.
"A couple of people have taken to grave robbing in the cemetery" explains Bronte.
"That is a fine place for it, the best" replies Dutch.
Apparently he's said something really funny because Bronte starts laughing.
"See they've taken, not only to desecrating the dead but they've done so without paying a tribute to the living. Thing is, they see my men, of course, they run a mile. So maybe you two head off…" says Bronte to Arthur and John.
"And you Mr. Van der Linde. Why, you tell me more about my manners. And the Miss here, she can, if she wants of course, enjoy my company."
Arthur and John stand up and look at me.
"Yes, I think I'll stay" I say.
When they go outside, Dutch and the Italian start a game of puns and mocks forgetting completely about me. I don't complain though: this kind of talking and behaving is not for me and I can't even follow the discussion.
I look at the glass they've given to me and I smell the content. It seems some kind of liquor that smells like wet wood.
I bring it to my mouth and push it immediately away, wrinkling my nose and mouth and swallowing that little of liquid I took.
It tastes like shit! It has nothing to do with our whiskey.
Then, looking around, I check if someone has seen me. Fortunately, Dutch and Bronte are too busy, but I exchange a look with one of the guards who smiles at me and nods towards my glass. I smile back with embarrassment and look down.
"I'd be happy to see you again at the mayor's garden party. An unpleasant man indeed, but known for his celebrations in style" says Bronte sipping from his glass.
"Of course we're talking about a big event, very formal, and the code needs an appropriate dressing" he adds looking at us.
"It won't be a problem. Thank you for the invitation" replies Dutch.
For a moment silence falls, something that hasn't happened for a long time. Then, Bronte stands up and claps his hands.
"I think we're good! We have an agreement" he says.
He turns to one of his men and says something in italian. The guard leaves the room. Dutch and I stand up looking around, trying to understand what's going on.
"Mr. Van der Linde, it was a pleasure. And I'll be waiting for you at the mayor's house" he adds shaking hands with him.
"We'll be there."
"Uncle Dutch! Fred!" we hear a little voice calling.
"Jack!" I say turning around and hugging the boy.
He has new clothes, he smells like soap and he looks calm.
"Jack, my dear boy! It's good to see you again!" exclaims Dutch patting the kid's head.
Bronte makes us go outside, with my relief I'd like to add, but there's still no trace of Arthur and John, so we sit on the steps outside the house and wait.
"It looks like they treated you well inside that house" I say to Jack.
"I had a bath, they gave me new clothes and some strange things to eat and papa Bronte told me some italian words" he replies.
"Ah…papa Bronte. You listen Dutch?" I ask.
When I look at him, Dutch is seated with his head low and a thoughtful expression. I focus again on Jack who tells me everything about papa Bronte and his big house and his big bed and all the toys he could play with.
After a few minutes the gate opens and John and Arthur come inside.
"Well…you took your time" says Dutch when he sees them.
Jack runs to hug John.
"Where's your host?" asks Arthur.
"Like I said…you took your time" repeats Dutch.
"How are you?" asks John to Jack as soon as we exit Bronte's property.
"I'm fine, I'm fine" he answers.
"You know, Arthur. Mr. Bronte has invited us to a garden party at the mayor's house. And us, just simple country boys" says Dutch mounting his horse.
"He first recommended us a bath" I add.
"Now we have a new camp Jack. I think you'll like it" says Dutch to the boy while we head back.
Jack tells Arthur and John all the things he has already told me and keeps addressing the Italian as 'papa Bronte'. John notices that too, and he doesn't seem to like it, neither.
When we get at the camp, I hear Bill's voice call out the others to warn them we're back.
"Abigail!" calls out Dutch.
"Abigail, we got your son!"
"He's here, he's fine!" yells John.
We see her running towards us.
"Come here, you silly boy" says Abigail hugging Jack.
"Thank you, you got my son back. Dutch, Arthur, Fred…thank you" she adds looking at us.
As an answer I hug her too. Then, she glances at John and goes away. I move my eyes on him while he looks at her going away, all the joy disappeared from his face. Why she didn't thank him too?
"So?" asks Hosea coming near us.
"Well…we met Mr. Bronte…" begins Dutch.
They start talking.
I take Isabella's reins and lead her away to remove the saddle and let her free.
"Come on, we have to celebrate!" I hear shouting from the camp.
I go back to see the entire camp which has gathered around Javier who started a song that they sing all together. They're happy. They're truly fine, maybe for the first time since I've met them. I find myself wishing that they could always be like this.
The smile I have on my face slightly fades away. Instinctively, I turn my head and look at Charles, some yards from me. He's not singing. He's not smiling, neither. He's just staring back at me.
With my stomach clenched by an invisible hand, I turn around and go sit on a log a little bit away from the group. When Javier ends the song the crowd scatters and Kieran comes to sit next to me.
"You're okay?" he asks.
I nod.
My eyes move again on Charles in the distance.
"So, in the end all went good with that italian" he remarks.
I nod again.
My head becomes suddenly full of thoughts. I go back to the other day, when I hugged him: the smell of his hair, the touch of his hands…
"I should tell you something, but…promise me you won't worry" says Kieran.
I turn my head and look at him.
"What?" I ask.
He sighs and looks around.
"I've seen…some O'Driscolls in the hereabouts."
My jaw falls.
"Did you told this to someone else?" I ask.
"Dutch and Hosea. They advised me caution and calmness. They say it's better for me not to wander around for a little."
"They're right. If something happens, you tell me, okay?"
I put a hand on his shoulder. He looks at me and nods.
The strangest of the things I've never seen distracts me from Kieran. Something I didn't thought to be possible.
Miss Grimshaw and Karen are seated at the same table, happy and smiling, and they are singing a song together.
I smile to myself and think that, maybe, the real reason they don't like each other much during the day, it's because they're very similar.
Javier is still playing the guitar. To his right there's Charles, seated on the ground, on his left, Hosea is on a chair.
I stand up and get to them, sitting next to Arthur.
"I'm curious of what you think about this Italian" says Hosea looking at me.
"I really have no idea" I answers with a shrug.
"How can you not? You've been there all the time to listen him talking" remarks Arthur.
"For the entire evening they blabbed about incomprehensible things and then he invited us to the party. What could I understand about him?" I complain.
"Party?" asks Hosea.
"We've been invited to a wonderful garden party at the mayor's house" says Dutch getting near.
"And…about that, we should find some good clothes and clean up a little. Miss Grimshaw will take care of you" he adds looking at me.
"What? Me? I don't…" I say frowning.
"He asked you personally. It would be unkind not to show up" he remarks.
"You'll say I'm not well. You'll find some excuse. I have no intentions to go among…a group of…"
I look around trying to find the right words.
"I'm not a high society kind of person. I don't know how to behave."
"Molly can help you with the bon ton. We need you. Bronte expects you to be there and we don't want to disappoint him" replies Dutch.
"Man, so you'll wear a dress and dance with the aristocracy?" jokes Micah, who sits down while Dutch is talking.
"Shit!" I complain.
"Well, if I were you, I'd start to watch my language a little" says Hosea.
