Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia

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Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia Page 45

by Jennifer Arntson


  The brothers, Braylie and Huxtyn, came from a family of farmers, and even though they raised chickens, their mother had a knack for growing corn and squash in preparation for Talium. She taught her boys well, and now at ten and twelve, they could aid the others when necessary. Pais and Flyn, two girls about a year younger than the boys, took the brothers’ advice and measured the depth of the seed holes with their knuckles before covering them lightly with soil.

  Once they had the knack of it, I put Braylie and Huxtyn in charge so I could go check on Tenor, not that I was ready for what I saw. He looked worse than anyone I’d seen outside of prison. Nothing I did helped other than frequently bringing him water, dumping out his vomit-filled bucket, and giving him some decent bedding to fight the chills ravaging his body. Since his arrival, he hadn’t kept down anything I’d given him to eat, yet he behaved as if I wished to poison him.

  “This is why we keep taking the candy,” he confessed in a moment of clarity.

  Without it, Tenor had sustained days of fever, sweating spells, and moments of violent tremors unlike I’d ever seen. Hour by hour, tending to his needs got harder. But if I didn’t do it, who would? I invited him to stay. He accepted. I had to try, even if it meant offering him a friendly voice. After his trembling fits yesterday, I asked the guards to secure him with a long leash and a non-slipping noose around his neck, allowing him to move somewhat freely. Ironically, I got the idea from Noran’s slaves who were forced to build the Temple. The whole thing was for show, really. The kid wasn’t going anywhere. Not as sick as he was.

  “Tenor, I brought you some fresh water and some broth.”

  “Go away!” He groaned, lying on the ground. He protected his head under a pillow, his blankets and shoes kicked out of his reach.

  “You didn’t eat anything yesterday.” The nearer I came to him, the more his feet thrashed.

  “I said leave me alone!” he yelled, wildly throwing his fist in the air.

  “Tenor!” I grabbed his hand to stop it from flailing. He pushed the pillow off his head and glared at me with more hatred than I knew a person could give. The whites of his eyes were a strange shade of purple. The boy looked as if he had been transformed into some sort of demon if not possessed by the devil himself. His lips were blue, dry, and cracked, and there was a trail of dried blood coming from his nose.

  “All right. I hear you.” I caught my breath, putting a bit of distance between us. “Tenor, I need you to tell me what I can do for you.”

  “Kill me!” he demanded, drooling like a salivating wolf.

  “I can keep you here with me, or I can let you leave. Those are your only choices,” I reminded him.

  He clawed at the noose around his neck, flapping violently like a fish pulled from the water and thrown on dry land.

  All I could do was watch. Eventually his energy ran out. He sobbed, clutching the rope like a child to his favorite stuffed animal.

  I cleared the tears from my cheeks. “Do you want me to take you back to the main road?”

  He cried and pounded the ground with his fist. “No,” he said softly. “I need—” His body went limp.

  “What do you need, Tenor?” I reached out timidly for his head and brushed back his tangled hair. When he didn’t threaten me or pull away, I knelt next to him and continued to stroke the crown of his head. “Please, I’ll do anything you need to help you.”

  “I don’t know.” He sobbed, his skin turning to gooseflesh. I grabbed his blanket and draped it around him. He pulled it up over his head and whimpered like a wounded animal, trembling beneath it.

  “I’m going to let you rest.” I had an idea. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Calish was busy, so I found Graken instead. I was sure that if anyone knew where I could find what I wanted, it would be the head of Calish’s security.

  I tracked him down near the checkpoint, supervising the searches of the visiting Citizens. “Graken!” I shouted, waddling toward him.

  “What is it, my Lady?” He jogged toward me. “You shouldn’t be out in this heat.”

  “Do you have any Sakenbrush?”

  He grabbed my arm and turned me around, checking to see if anyone overheard. “Pardon me?”

  I wiggled out of his grip. “I know you used it to keep prisoners calm. They gave it to me when I was arrested just before the landslide.”

  He folded his arms across his chest.

  They really look bigger that way.

  “I need some for Tenor.”

  “What that boy needs is a blade to the throat.” He stiffened his jaw.

  “I don’t remember asking your opinion,” I said curtly. “What I asked for is Sakenbrush.”

  “It’s not going to help,” he informed me. “What that kid has in him will only leave him in death. Giving him anything in the living world is a waste of good resources.”

  I cleared my throat. “Fine. I want to get loose. I’ve had a horrendous couple of days, and I need to unwind. Give me your Sakenbrush, or I will have you disciplined for insubordination,” I threatened.

  “You are incapable of making anything but stupid decisions,” he grumbled as he passed, heading toward our personal area.

  “Wolf hearing!” I pointed to my ears, reminding him of my special talent. “I can hear you!”

  “Good!” he yelled over his shoulder.

  I had a hard time keeping up with his strides. He rummaged through his saddlebag hung over the pasture fence and handed me a bundle wrapped up in string. “Don’t use it all up at once. I wouldn’t want that baby of yours coming out with three heads like its mother.”

  “Fuck you, Graken.” I yanked it from his grip. I was in no mood to deal with him after the last few days. “If I wanted your advice, I would have asked you for it. Remember?” I walked away from him, flashing him a rude gesture with my hand.

  “You’re making a mistake!” he called after me.

  “Then add it to the list you’re keeping!” I shouted over my shoulder. Pulling three twigs from the bundle, I used the cooking fire to light the tips. When they were flaming, I blew them out, so they smoldered and provided a good smoke.

  “Hey, I’m back,” I warned Tenor. “I have something for you that might help.” I lifted the hem of the blanket and handed him the twigs. “It’s Sakenbrush. I don’t know if it’ll work, but maybe these will knock the edge off your withdrawal.”

  He took them from me. “Thank you.”

  “Keep the blanket propped up.” I grabbed a stick to keep it tented over his head. “Keep the smoke in. Believe me, it’ll last longer if you do. It has a tendency to make you, um, just keep your hands away from your pants, all right?” I shuddered at the thought of him pleasuring himself in broad daylight with his head under a blanket.

  He gave me a thumbs-up, and I sealed the blanket around him. I stuffed the rest of the bundle in my apron.

  I hope this works.

  Supposedly, Sakenbrush was not addictive. Maybe its effects would pad Tenor’s symptoms until the candy fully exited his system. If the alternative to him dying from extreme strain on his body was some temporary inebriation, I felt it worth the trade.

  I was on my way back to the children when a carriage rolled in. It was no ordinary means of transport. Followed by Disciples on horseback and driven by a man in a glistening suit, the entire procession resembled something created for a parade. When they stopped, the driver lifted a large trumpet and played a ceremonious tune. From the carriage, four dancers emerged one after the other, spinning and leaping in sync with each other until finally they ended on their knees in a bow so deep the women looked flat against the dirt.

  I looked back at Calish as he threw his shovel down in the grass, irritated with our uninvited company. He wiped his brow with the back of his arm as he ran to the entrance.

  “All hail the High Priest of Ashlund!” the driver declared as Noran’s head emerged from a door opening obscured entirely by feathers. A sweeping evaluation of the plush greenery across our
property skewed his aging features. He stepped down with the aid of his man who then rushed to fix the outlandish religious robes once crammed inside with the passengers. Noran did some eccentric bow to the people in line and crossed the simple bridge as if it were going to collapse at any moment.

  I stood next to Qarla as Calish greeted him properly.

  “Greetings, Lord Calish,” the priest said regally.

  “Greetings.” He bowed. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

  Noran waved to the men on horseback behind the carriage to dismount and join him on the property. “I’ve come to take care of some godly business.”

  Calish watched the Priest’s men nervously. “Just a moment, what are these men doing here? What is going on, Noran?”

  He fixed his jeweled gloves glistening in the sun. “You weren’t at the meeting today, so you wouldn’t know.” He patted Calish’s upper arm. “I have received a message from the gods!” he yelled for all to hear. “They have been so good to us”—he nodded to the Citizens lined up to receive their meal—“but our faith has been lacking! Many have put their conviction in worldly goods,” his eyes found me, and his words rattled low, “and worldly people.”

  The Disciples took over the property. Some spread out, while others went directly toward the pots of simmering broth.

  “The gods have revealed to me the plant you’ve been reaping from the land is their most divine creation! Until now, we’ve overlooked it, but they have declared it sacred!” Noran nodded his permission, and the Disciple kicked over the pot, flinging its contents across the worn areas of the makeshift kitchen. Kii screamed, barely escaping the wave of boiling hot broth cast in her direction. “What are you doing?” I yelled, but Qarla held me back. “Stop! You can’t do that!”

  Noran’s followers overturned one pot after another until empty pots littered the ground. The Disciples picked up handfuls of dirt and rock and threw them onto the fires, smothering the flames almost immediately.

  “From this day forward, anyone seen with the Noble Thistle in their hands or in their bowls will be made to pay the highest price to the gods at the Temple!”

  He watched, pleased with his proclamation, as the Disciples who’d been searching the lot found our stock of starts. They smashed the jars on the ground, destroying not only our work but our containers.

  I ran as fast as I could, holding my heavy belly, to Calish’s side. “Make them stop!” I cried.

  The holy men snatched presses from the hands of our volunteers and busted their hinges before tossing them haphazardly like garbage. They shredded the swatches of fabric made for the Citizens to use as strainers. Using a rake, the last Disciple dragged the thistle across the yard to a cart behind one of their horses and loaded it up for proper disposal.

  Tugging on Calish’s arm, I begged him to move, but he didn’t. He just huffed like an overworked mud ox. “Calish, do something!”

  He turned to me, and with his teeth clenched together, he said, “I can’t.”

  When their conquest of all things thistle ended, the Disciples mounted their horses, wiping the sweat from their brow with delicately embroidered handkerchiefs.

  “I give you the blessings of the gods. May your faith grow as resilient as the Noble Thistle,” Noran announced proudly with his arms out wide. “And may its green beauty be a reminder of the promises of all they have in store for those who are steadfast in the face of such evil and worldly corruption!”

  When done with his public announcement, he sashayed in our direction. Calish stood indignant as the representative of the parcel, not the Lord of the Authority, the difference woefully apparent.

  “I hope you understand why this had to happen this way,” Noran said somberly.

  I bit my tongue and let Calish respond. “I’m not sure I do.”

  “These good people don’t need a hero or a mother. What they need is to be right with the gods.” He put his hand on his chest. “When our hearts are reunited with the gods of the heavens, they will give us what we require to sustain our mortal bodies.”

  “They already did, you imposter!” I spat.

  Noran smiled and reached out to catch the tear on my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “There’s the fire I wanted to see.” He licked his lower lip as I jerked my face from his repulsive touch.

  Calish tried to keep calm. “Is there anything else?”

  “Oh yes,” he lifted his finger as the thought occurred to him, “we will be requiring the men you have stationed here to be reassigned to the Temple. I’m sure you heard. A man was crucified in front of it recently. We must protect the place most holy from such evil things. Seeing as you no longer have anything of value here, Reinick didn’t think it would be any problem.”

  “Very well. I’ll send them in the morning.”

  “Make it tonight,” Noran said, patting Calish on the shoulder once again.

  Before he responded, the priest turned, flinging his audacious cape in our faces, and hurried back to his carriage. He gave one last bow to the people before he ducked inside the portal of feathers and closed the door.

  The priest and his henchmen had yet to leave our view when the Citizens who waited in line for hours fell out of formation. They walked back to the main road with their heads hung low and their bellies empty. I watched them go, knowing there was nothing I could do. It was done. As quickly as it began, it had ended.

  Calish jogged after the carriage, but others came to my side.

  I felt Sterle’s hand take mine, and Qarla took the other. “We’ll figure out another way, Miss Una,” Sterle said, fighting back tears.

  “Of course, we will,” Qarla agreed. Together we watched the road clear and become empty once again. “I know we will.”

  My body felt numb as the reality of what just happened sank in. Kii was in shambles as she righted the overturned pots, and our volunteers plucked the shards of glass out of the lawn. The children, who ran into the wooded part of the pasture, fearing he’d take them, slowly wandered out of the shadows.

  If Calish sends the guards away, they may not feel safe here ever again.

  An intense pain slammed inside my lower abdomen. “Ahhh!” I groaned as I held my stomach and bent over.

  Qarla held me upright.

  “My Lady, are you all right?” Sterle asked.

  I shook my head, unable to answer. The tightening in my stomach held constant, making it hard to breathe.

  “Miss Una, you need to breath,” she said softly. “Sterle, help me get her to a place to lie down. I think she’s having a contraction.”

  Calish heard my scream and ran back to me. He told the women to find Graken while he limped me to the tent. The pain subsided for a moment but hit again just before we reached it. I grabbed Calish’s hand and squeezed with all my might. When the slamming stopped, we hurried inside, and he helped me lie down. He wanted to do something to ease the pain or offer a comforting touch, but his hands didn’t quite know where it was safe to touch. My hands gripped the blanket on either side of me, and my body curled in on itself. Try as I might, nothing would settle the cramping and squeezing of my core. All Calish could do was kneel by my side and use his words to convince us both everything would be all right. I nodded to convey I heard him, but being breathless prevented me from saying anything.

  Graken came within seconds. “You called for me, sir?”

  “I need you to get us a midwife. Quickly.” Calish tried hard to maintain his composure.

  “Yes, sir.” He ducked out just as Qarla came in with a glass of water.

  The pain waned and allowed me to take a breath. I relaxed, but the episode exhausted me. My hands massaged my belly as my breathing returned to normal.

  “How long do we have?” Calish asked her as she helped me drink.

  She rolled a blanket to put under my knees, easing the pressure off my lower back. “It’s hard to know. First births can take a couple of days once the contractions begin. She hasn’t lost her water yet, so it
could be longer.”

  “Lost my water?”

  “Why, yes, sweet Una. Don’t you know how this works?”

  Calish and I both shrugged.

  “We’ve seen our animals give birth to young,” he confessed.

  She laughed. “Well, that’s a start, I guess…” She proceeded to tell us all the things we never took time to hear.

  Chapter 40

  The midwife sent everyone out of the tent to check me properly. Until now, the only person who’d ever touched me down there was Calish. She kept telling me to relax, but relaxing was far more difficult than she made it out to be.

  “You know, you’re going to have someone doing this for you when you give birth.”

  “My mother was supposed to help me.” I lay on my back, knees bent in the air, with my arm draped across my eyes. She wanted my legs open, yet my thighs kept squeezing together all by themselves.

  The midwife had no hesitation separating them, making the entire ordeal utterly humiliating.

  “What are you checking for anyway?”

  “To see how far your womb has opened to allow the baby to pass.” She removed her fingers from me, reaching for the towel to wipe her hands. “I’m afraid today is not your day.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, glad to have her away from my most private area.

  She straightened the blankets over my tightly pinched legs. “I mean you’re not going to deliver that child today. It’ll probably be a moon cycle or two before your body is fully ready. Maybe more.” She opened the door to the tent. “You may come in, my Lord.”

  Calish’s face had gone white.

  “Not to worry, your wife is having practice contractions.”

  “Practice contractions?” we repeated in unison.

  “Yes, sometimes a woman in her condition will have them in times of stress. If she’s been on her feet too long or is in need of more water, it will present itself.” She collected her things. “I’ve not been up here myself, but the rumors are you’ve been quite busy.” She zipped up her travel bag. “I suggest you take care of yourself, Mother Una. If you don’t, you may not be able to care for anyone until you give birth to that child.”

 

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