I sat at the kitchen nook and smoothed the ingredients into a mostly uniform mass. Desperation made compromise easier. I chomped down on a spoonful just as Marsh stumbled into view, holding a candle.
“What are you eating in the dark?” He yawned.
“Cookies,” I mumbled with my mouth full of gooey goodness.
Apparently, I can’t even binge eat alone.
“Is this how you got so fat?” he asked, reaching into the bowl to grab some with his hands.
I smacked him with the back of my spoon. “Keep your dirty paws out of my snack!”
“Fine,” he said indignantly as he turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll get a ladle, my Lady,” he said, scratching his rear end under his clothes. I took another big scoop and shoved it in my mouth, knowing I’d have to eat what I wanted before Marsh had a chance to devour it.
With a table spoon in hand, he sat in the chair next to me. After I took a heaping spoonful, I handed him the bowl.
“What’s happening in that head of yours?” he asked as he accepted my offering.
“Why would you think anything’s wrong?”
“You gave up the goods too quickly,” he said, putting a scoop of dough in his mouth. “Something’s up.” His chewing slowed.
I nibbled the glob on my spoon. The people who lived in the house had good ingredients, not bits of leftovers in a tossed-out can collected over seasons of claiming. Delicious as it was, it wasn’t distracting enough to push my worries from my mind.
Marsh stuck his spoon in the middle of the dough and set the bowl on the table. “You’re gonna crack eventually,” he paused, “just tell me what’s going on.”
A smile pulled against my better judgment. He was right. Well, he would have been if I were younger. We knew each other’s faults and, by now, many secrets, but the reason for my binge would remain with me. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Uh-huh, and?”
I rotated the spoon in my hand, amazed the dough on it didn’t fall off even though I held it upside down.
Maybe Marsh is the best person to confess to.
Of everyone I knew, he was the only one who experienced significant and personal loss. He wouldn’t be offended if I inquired about it, either. Knowing we wouldn’t be accused of anything illicit, I didn’t have to worry about being found with him in the dark hours of the night. “When did the nightmares about your parents stop?” I suddenly lost interest in the snack I made.
Marsh sat back in his chair and sighed. “Who are you dreaming about?”
I tossed my spoon back in the bowl on the table. “Kali and Alux.”
Marsh’s voice got softer, less abrupt, “Oh, well, as a kid, I had them all the time. Same ones over and over again. Eventually I started dreaming about other stuff, but every now and again, they return.”
“They won’t end?”
“It’ll change.” He leaned forward so he would be eye to eye with me. “You’ll still dream about them, but it won’t always be about their death. Might take time, though.”
“I’ve seen a lot of people die this year,” I whispered. Marsh bobbed his head but had no real appropriate response, not that I expected one.
“Is that why this soup-thing is so important to you? Are you trying to make up for something?”
I pulled my feet up under my rear, hugging my knees the best I could with my hard belly in the way.
“Una, you know none of this is your fault, right?”
“I don’t blame myself for the landslide or the flooding,” I said, smoothing the robe over my legs. “But would Kali have died if I wasn’t in Noran’s house? Would Alux be alive if I let someone else tend to his wounds?”
What I said wasn’t an attempt at being dramatic. He knew the hurt I carried.
“Listen, Una. You didn’t cause Kali’s or Alux’s death. You were there; you saw what Noran did to people. Shit, the whole Atchem Festival is a damned killing spree orchestrated by a sadistic freak. Kali was as good as dead the moment she stepped into his house. Maybe he didn’t plan on doing it that day, but he had plans to kill her long before you arrived. That’s what he kept her for. The other two people, from what you described, were half dead already. Think about what her suffering would have been if you didn’t go there. She might have been the next one strung up for his enjoyment. If anything, her death was merciful. It was quick and efficient compared to what was in store for her.”
I nodded.
“And that kid? Alux? Yes, he died, but he was breaking the law. I admit, he didn’t deserve to die, but that’s not on you, Una. He stole from a resident in an Authority neighborhood; what did he expect to happen?”
“Children don’t understand extreme consequences, Marsh,” I chastised him. “They understand lashings, and soap in the mouth, and labor punishments. They don’t understand death. I don’t, and I’m a damn Scab! Every sentence from the Authority was death for as long as I can remember. You lie, you die. You steal, you die. You wear the wrong color on the wrong day, you die. You’re seen with an unblemished piece of fruit, you die. What did it mean to us? Did you understand the threat? We still took stuff from Pantis and traded fish for clothes. We didn’t get it either,” I reminded him.
“Point taken,” he admitted, “but that doesn’t mean you need to blame yourself for his execution. Blame the one responsible.”
“Who?” I challenged him. “The archer? The Authority?”
“I don’t know, Una. But I’ve seen enough to know you’re not the problem.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Yeah? Why not?” Marsh prodded.
“I may not be the problem, but I manage to cause enough trouble anyway,” I confessed, thinking about Nik.
“I’m not following you,” he said, picking up the bowl and handing my spoon back to me.
“It doesn’t matter.” While it didn’t bring me completely out of my slump, Marsh’s perspective helped. Most likely, it was that I finally told someone how I felt. Maybe someday, I’d agree with him. While I wasn’t ready or willing to absolve myself of all guilt, I’d settle for not being the only cause of their death. I certainly wasn’t successful in stopping it. There must have been something that would have changed the outcome. Whether or not there was, that was an argument for a different sleepless night.
Marsh finished up the last of the contents of the bowl before he broke my train of thought. “You ready for tomorrow?”
“We’ll see,” I said, licking the last bit of evidence from my spoon. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret staying up all night.” I put the utensil on the table. “And I have a feeling I’m going to regret eating raw dough.”
“Yeah,” he set the bowl on the table and rubbed his belly, “but I have a feeling it was worth it.”
Marsh and I stayed up talking until my eyes wouldn’t stay open anymore. On his advice, we finally decided to call it a night. He walked me upstairs and waited until I shut my bedroom door before he went into his own. Calish continued to sleep as I crept back into bed.
“I love you,” I said, reminding myself where my loyalty belonged. We’d been working so much we hadn’t taken any time to be alone together. Before I ran off into mirrors, I might want to see what I had in front of me.
As I lay next to him and closed my eyes, I prayed I wouldn’t dream at all. I didn’t want to relive any memories of Kali, Alux, or Nik for that matter. If the night would grant my mind complete darkness, I would be forever grateful. An empty memory sounded wonderful. I didn’t wish for good dreams. They often turned ugly. The only safe, predictable choice was to have none at all.
Chapter 16
I woke up to a bunch of noise the next morning. It was impossible to ignore all the clanging and banging ringing on the first floor. I didn’t hear talking, and since the sun had yet to grow full in the morning sky, I feared we were being robbed. I sprang out of bed and hardly had the robe around my middle when I made it downstairs. Calish stood at the front door, waiting fo
r the servants to pass him with soup pots filled with bowls and other supplies.
“You scared me half to death,” I chastised my husband. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
He squeezed inside the house before another armful of goods was carried out to be loaded. “I figured you could use the rest.” He touched my belly and kissed me good morning. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly, I’m not well.” My head pounded, and my eyes squinted, sensitive to the light. Even my stomach was upset, but that I had an excuse for. Ignoring both my physical and my emotional ailments, I followed Sterle out the door. Two wagons waited in the drive, half loaded with supplies.
“Do you think the wagons will make it up the hill?” I moved out of Jeorge’s way as he carried a wooden crate outside.
“They should make it through the passages,” Calish confirmed. “Graken rode up and took measurements yesterday. I’m only concerned about this trip this morning. It’s not common to be traveling up the road with usable goods. We’ll have protection with us, but if the Woodsmen catch on that we’ve got something valuable, we may find trouble.”
He had warned me about the lawless men who claimed the woods as their own. There was no doubt that the people who interrupted our harvest belonged to their numbers. In the absence of a strong Authority presence and the inability to truly enforce the law, criminal activity flourished. Unfortunately, those men were invisible in a crowd of displaced Citizens. They were better armed than the Authority and unnecessarily violent. They didn’t have to expose themselves to be a threat; they were everywhere.
“They’d be bold enough to attack an Authority convoy?”
“They’re just as desperate as everyone else. The problem, at least for us, is they’re organized. I’m more anxious about coming across ten Woodsmen than I am passing through a crowd of a thousand Citizens. But, if the road conditions are so poor that we break down or get stuck,” he paused, “well, let’s hope our only trouble will be a bumpy ride.” He smiled, realizing he might be causing me to worry.
This isn’t helping.
“Una, I’m sure we’re going to be just fine. I’m just rambling on about things that shouldn’t concern you. That’s what Graken is for,” he joked. “If you’re not feeling well, why don’t you go lie down? I’ll wake you when we’re ready to go since I don’t think we’ll be done for a while.”
“I should pack first.”
“Good idea. Then go rest.”
Upstairs, I rummaged through the toiletries, taking only the few items I used, and put them in an empty bag Calish had left for me. It hung from one of the sixteen glass drawer pulls of the unnecessarily large dresser. A canvas bag would have sufficed, but for some reason, the one he’d chosen displayed a beaded scene of birds perched on a split-rail fence. I dropped the soap inside, questioning if I wanted to bring the moisturizer a neighbor had given him for my growing belly. She told him it would prevent my skin from scarring from the stretching, as if she considered them a bad thing. I had plenty of scars I wished weren’t there. A few marks caused by a child born free would be an honor, a fond remembrance of hope and possibilities. If I were to bring important things, the lotion would not be among them.
I collected the clothes that still fit my growing body and added them to the bag. In front of me, lying on top of the dresser, was a small handheld mirror belonging to the former lady of the house. The silver piece waited to be picked up and gazed into, and I swear I heard it call my name, though I never noticed it there before. My fatigue has bested me. Why should I take it? It wasn’t mine, nor did I wish for its tempting connection to Nik. Leaving it behind would be the most predictable way to ensure I didn’t make a foolish decision again.
But what if I truly needed to reach him?
I would need a mirror.
Last night, I learned a valuable truth about myself, shameful, but no less true. Being more aware of my choices in the future would save me from poor judgment. No one had to know for my behavior to correct. Aligning my actions with my intentions wouldn’t be hard. I didn’t need to avoid Nik. I needed to trust Calish more. Without a second thought, or third, or tenth, I tucked the mirror in the ornate bag between my clothing and did so with purpose.
When I returned downstairs, I set my stuff next to the door to be loaded and went off to pack our lunch. Qarla and Sterle had done their jobs beyond expectation by having rations packed and ready for us for the next few days. As always, they had also put out an assortment of muffins and cut fruits on the table for anyone who was interested in them.
“My Lady.” Qarla bowed as she approached with more pastries to add to the breakfast spread.
“Please call me Una,” I moaned, taking a seat at the table.
“In time, maybe.” She smiled uncomfortably. “Are you feeling all right, my Lady?”
“I’ll be fine as soon as I wake up a bit more.”
“I know this is a bad time, but I’m afraid I might not get another chance to speak with you before you leave.” She sat beside me, checking over her shoulder to ensure we were alone. “May I make a request?”
“Of course. Anything.”
Nervously, she grabbed the teapot and a cup to fill. “I hoped, well, I’ve been thinking, and I…” Her hands shook as she poured.
“Qarla, what is it?”
“Can I come with you?” She seemed almost embarrassed by her request as she handed me the cup. “I can keep the area clean, if nothing else.”
Of course, she could. Did she think I planned on doing this alone? She’d been so involved up until then, I just assumed she would continue. With all the plans made to protect me with Authority guards and patrol from the Resistance, no one had volunteered for the actual making and distribution of the food. In addition, we would need to be constantly collecting and preparing thistle and washing the supplies, never mind building and maintaining the fires and figuring out where we were going to sleep.
I need a lot more help than what I prepared for.
Marsh was supposed to be the impulsive one, not me. I didn’t consider how to transport the goods, and suddenly I realized there wasn’t anyone to prepare it.
Why didn’t I think this thing through better?
“My Lady?”
“Huh?” I looked up from my tea.
Sterle stepped out from around the corner. “My Lady, I’d like to come, too.”
I lowered my cup and confessed, “I know this seems very exciting, but I may have oversimplified it all.” I was talking to myself as much as I was to them. “It’s going to be a lot of work. Even with things running perfectly, I’m not sure this thing is going to be successful.”
In fact, I’m pretty sure this will end in disaster.
“So?” Sterle shrugged.
“I will take all the help I can get, but there’s not a structure for us to sleep in. I don’t want to risk your current arrangement for some poorly planned dream of mine. I mean, are you sure you want to leave this for the unknown?”
They both nodded eagerly.
“Really?”
“My Lady”—Qarla scooted closer to me—“our families are out there. We do our best to feed them what we can from here. At first, they passed half of what we brought to other people, then they refused to take it from us. It was too dangerous. They were being robbed when they had nothing to take.”
“My friends won’t accept anything anymore either,” Sterle confessed.
Qarla acknowledged her sense of hopelessness. “Maybe this way we can do something to help our families without putting them at risk.”
I set my tea on the table. “Of course, you can come.” My head swirled, forcing me to shut my eyes tight.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Qarla asked.
“I’m not feeling well,” I admitted. “I think I need to lie down.”
“I’ll help you.” Sterle stood and reached for my hand.
“Thank you.” I accepted her assistance. “You two pack what you need from around the h
ouse and give them to Marsh to load up. I set mine by the front door.”
“Yes, my Lady.” Qarla stood as Sterle led me away.
Back in the master suite, Sterle moved the linens on the bed, allowing me to slip into bed easily. The drapes were drawn, keeping the room relatively dark. My eyes felt better than they did downstairs where the sun poured through the windows. I snuggled down into the softness of the bed as Sterle pulled a single sheet over my shoulders.
She whispered in my ear, “Thank you for taking us with you.”
Not knowing how to respond, I nodded slightly in reply.
Sterle tiptoed out, and I did my best to clear my mind. Maybe I should have eaten something before I came upstairs.
That’s all right. I’ll eat something before we leave.
Chapter 17
When I woke, the house was silent. I rolled over, not ready to get up, although I’d slept long enough. Sleep took me completely; I hadn’t moved an inch from where Sterle tucked me in. I felt better, other than the general achiness resulting from such a slumber. My hand traveled wide along my stomach, but there wasn’t any movement beneath the surface. The baby must be sleeping just as soundly as I had been. Swinging my feet off the side of the bed, I sat and strained my ears to hear anything beyond the bedroom door.
That’s strange.
Not a pot or jar or spoon tinkled against another. Hinges did not creak, nor did the floorboards. There were no voices, not even whispers, traveling up through the hallway, though I stood in the open doorway, waiting to hear them. Finally, from the top of the staircase, I heard voices but the wagons and horses that had been out front were gone.
Did they leave without me?
I started down the steps when the conversation in the rear of the house grew louder.
“…No, I don’t,” Jeorge said from somewhere near the kitchen. His voice sounded nervous.
He’s never nervous.
Distant, maybe. Indifferent, definitely. But never nervous.
The other person hushed him into a whisper too low for me to make out. I spun around to go back upstairs, smacking into Marsh’s brick-like wall of a body.
Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia Page 18