Chereads / Euphues: A Triangle of Deception / Chapter 8 - Chapter 7: The Storm Breaks

Chapter 8 - Chapter 7: The Storm Breaks

Eleanor stood in the doorway, her face a mask of urgency and fear that ran a shiver down Alaric's spine. The storm was raging outside, its rumbles interspersed with peals of thunder, but it was something in her eyes that really unsettled him.

"Alaric! I need your help," she gasped out, her voice strained, as she stepped inside, shaking droplets of rain from her hair.

"Eleanor!" Alaric exclaimed, ushering her quickly inside and closing the door fast behind her. "What's wrong? You look—"

 

"Not now," she cut him off, looking about the cottage as if she half-expected an unwanted visitor to manifest there at any moment. "I need to speak with you—both of you." She turned then to Rosalind, who stood a pace or so behind Alaric, her countenance reflecting both curiosity and alarm.

"Rosalind," Eleanor went on, her tone grave with intensity, "I'm so sorry to burst in upon you in this manner, but I need your help too."

Rosalind nodded and glanced from Alaric to Eleanor. "What's happening?" she asked. Although the tension in the room was rising, her voice was quite steady.

Eleanor took a deep breath; her hands shook slightly as she dried them on her wet dress. "I've uncovered something important-something that could put both of you in danger if we don't act quickly."

"Danger?" Alaric parroted, his voice suddenly awash with worry. "What did you find out?"

Eleanor's eyes held his gaze, and in that lay the resolution of her mind. "I followed a lead earlier today and chanced upon hearing at the tavern that there would be a meeting tomorrow night. The most influential figures will convene to discuss further steps, and I'm quite sure it's about the political factions I told you about.

A shiver ran down Alaric's spine. "Do you think Bramwell will be there?"

Eleanor nodded. "He is one of their main players. If we can get evidence of their plans, we should be able to blow the whistle before they get a chance to put their plans into action. But we have to be so careful. They'll have guards, and who knows what else."

Rosalind stepped forward, her eyes alight with resolve. "What do we need to do?

Eleanor smiled at the valor in Rosalind's tone. "I need both of you to help me gather more information. Alaric, you have a way of blending into the background. I think you should go to the tavern tonight and listen in on conversations. Look for any mention of the meeting."

"Tonight?" Alaric's heart scurried up at the thought. "But what if they see me?"

"I'll be there, too," Eleanor reassured him, "staying in the shadows, and if it gets too dangerous, we leave. We just need to gather enough to understand their plans."

Rosalynd turned to Alaric, her eyes steady, shining bright with conviction. "We can do this together, Alaric. We are stronger as a team."

Her words filled Alaric with sudden courage, yet he still felt doubt gnawing at him. "And what about you, Rosalind? It may be perilous."

"I can handle myself," she said firmly. "Besides, I won't let you two face this alone. If Eleanor is right, then we all have a stake in this."

Eleanor nodded, softening. "I knew I could count on both of you. It is a bit dicey; however, I'm bound to think around them. Together, we can figure out some way to stop whatever they're doing."

---

The hour thereafter was spent in preparation. Alaric tried to set his mind to it, but the weight of what they were to carry out hung over him like a pall. It was the tavern he had visited so many times before, the default haven of boisterous faces and insistent chatter. Tonight it sounded like a battleground.

These donned darker clothing as dusk settled over Brackenwood, something less conspicuous. Alaric wore a plain brown tunic while Rosalind had chosen a cloak that would eventually merge her with the shadows. The ever-resourceful Eleanor had brought a dark scarf along to shroud her features.

"Are we ready?" Eleanor asked, attempting to keep her voice level despite the tension in the air.

Alaric nodded with a hard swallow. "Ready as we'll ever be.

"Then let's go," Eleanor said, and she led the way as they slipped out into the stormy night.

---

The tavern was warm and inviting, quite opposite to the turbulent weather outside. The sound of laughter and the smell of a hearty stew filled the air as they came inside; Alaric's heart quickened as they found a small corner table that offered a view of the room without being overly exposed.

They settled in, Alaric scanning the crowd while Eleanor and Rosalind exchanged quiet whispers, strategizing their approach. The tavern was packed, and Alaric could make out a few familiar faces-the local farmers, a few townspeople, and merchants-but he didn't see Bramwell just yet.

"Keep your eyes open," Eleanor whispered, her eyes circling the room. "We need to blend in, but we can't be too obvious.

Alaric nodded, his nervousness welling up inside him as he took another pull from his ale, surveying the patrons of the establishment for something-anything-out of the ordinary. Minutes passed, feeling like hours, until finally, with the thought that nothing would happen, the door creaked loudly as it opened.

Victor Bramwell stepped inside, shaking rain off his coat and scanning the room with a practiced eye. Alaric's pulse quickened; this was what they were waiting for.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered, hunching down close to Eleanor and Rosalind.

"Shh," she replied, her voice scarce above a whisper. "We need to hear what he says.

With a nod, Bramwell settled into the rear of the tavern, joining a cluster of men huddled around in low conversation. Alaric strained his ears and his heart ran quickly with anticipation.

".The time for furtherance is upon us," Bramwell's voice boomed slightly, drowning out the murmurs around him. "We cannot let anyone interfere with our plans. The leadership of Brackenwood is weak right now, and we need to take advantage of that."

Alaric exchanged a look with Rosalind and Eleanor; the same shade of concern and steely determination was etched across their features.

"What plans?" Rosalind whispered, her eyes wide.

Bramwell continued as if he were already assured of his victory: "We might be in a position to dictate terms of trade routes and have our way in what comes about in council. If only opposition could be eliminated before the next meeting of council, then there will be no limit to our powers.

Alaric's stomach twisted at the implications. They were talking about taking control of the town—about manipulating its leadership for their gain. He exchanged another worried glance with Eleanor, who was standing as if she would jump from her seat.

"We can't let this happen," she breathed, eyes narrowing.

Just then, one of the other fellows at the table piped up. "What about the girl? You know, the one that's been snooping around? She may blow it if she discovers-"

Bramwell snorted, his hand dismissive in the air. "Let her try. She is nothing but a naive little girl. We have our ways of handling loose ends.

Alaric felt his heart go down. The girl they were talking about could only be Eleanor. The threat was very real now, and the stakes could never have been higher.

"Eleanor, we need to get out of here," Alaric whispered urgently. "This is more dangerous than we thought."

But before they could act, Bramwell stood up, his voice rising above the murmur of the tavern. "We must act now! This is our town, and I will not let anyone get in our way!"

The mind of Alaric raced. They could not turn their backs yet without learning more, but neither could they stay longer without arousing suspicion.

Eleanor's hand clutched at his; her eyes swam with a sudden determination. "We can't let them get away with this," she hissed softly. "We have to stand up to them. We have to warn the townspeople.

But no sooner had Alaric been about to say anything, when suddenly a loud crash of something broke the air. Some noisy patrons had managed to knock over a table; total chaos erupted in the tavern as people started hooting and laughing, never once catching on to the oncoming tension in the back.

In the confusion, Alaric was sure he saw Bramwell scan around him, darkening. "What's going on back there?" he snapped, "We can't afford any distractions!"

"This is our chance!" Eleanor hissed urgently. "We have to follow them and hear more before they go."

Alaric nodded, adrenaline flushing through him. "Let's go!

With the mayhem around them serving as perfect cover, they slid from their chairs and stole toward the back of the tavern, their hearts pounding with the weight of what lay ahead.

They had entered the shadows, but now they were determined to uncover the truth-no matter the cost.