by S. R. Cronin
“Here’s the saddest part,” he finally said. “You could have been the perfect woman for me, and I was too dumb to recognize it.”
I won’t lie, it felt good to hear him say it. But I didn’t want to try to redo our relationship.
“But you’re not the perfect woman anymore,” he said, “so that’s that.”
“I’m not?”
“You’re a luski, honey cakes. Maybe some men could handle that, I can’t imagine how, but I’m certainly not one of them. Always wondering ….”
“Of course.” I desperately sought a quick subject change, because I guessed where his mind would go next. I wasn’t fast enough.
“Wait a minute. We saw each other plenty after the wedding …. did you ever ….”
I told him the truth because I wanted the two of us to have a clean slate as we moved forward.
“Once. I used the timbre on you once.”
“Once isn’t so bad. I wish I could believe you used it to get me to have sex with you, but I don’t recall we ever did. Did we? You know, after the wedding.”
“We didn’t.”
“So, are you going to tell me what you made me do?”
“Are you sure you want me to?”
We stared at each other.
“I pushed you to sponsor Sulphur when she wanted to join the Svadlu.”
His eyes widened. Then he jumped to his feet and threw his hands out into the air. “Are you prucking kidding me?” he shouted, and I took a step back. Why did this make him so angry?
“She’s my sister. She wanted this so bad. I knew she’d do well. I thought ‘what’s the harm?’”
He sat back down and put his head in his hands. When he looked up I thought I saw tears in his eyes. He was crying? No, he was laughing.
“She hasn’t done well. She’s done amazing. She’s brought me money and prestige and saved lives. Sponsoring her was probably the best single career decision I made. I pat myself on the back for it all the time. And now you’re telling me it wasn’t my idea?”
“Well … you had to be open to it to be persuaded.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that. I wonder if it’s true. So. Smartest thing I do as a Svadlu, and I find out my wife, a luski, put me up to it.”
I searched for something helpful to say.
“Not a luski. A luski who loved you at the time.”
He blew out a puff of air. “I suppose that counts for something. Look, don’t ever ….”
“I won’t.”
“But I’ll never know if you do, will I?”
“No, you won’t.”
“Then don’t you ever … but if you do, don’t tell me later. Just make sure it’s a smart thing like sponsoring Sulphur, and then really don’t do it again. Okay?”
I guess he was trying to be funny, in his way. He had handled it so much better than I expected.
I finished making our dinner, and we went on to share the meal and wine and conversation about our son. He liked that my mother was taking Votto into the forest and had been promised a place to stay for as long as she needed. I didn’t mention Chessa who’d be traveling with them. The evening had been complicated enough.
Then three of us shared the bed, with Votto in the middle.
The next morning before he left, he kissed his son on the forehead, and then took my hand and kissed the top of it as he looked me in the eye.
“Stay safe.”
“You too.”
I knew it was a dumb answer, given his occupation, but I didn’t know what else to say.
The Svadlu had been sending soldiers to train the farmers, but now, with under three anks until Kolada, they came to speak to all of us at our practice. I sat on a bale of hay off to one side, with the other masked luskies. In the middle were more singers than I’d seen before. It looked like entire choirs from around the realm had joined us here at the end. Several reczavy sat on the other side of the singers, and for the first time, I considered how they could be as scared of us as we were of them.
A few dozen cow-herders sat on the ground in front of us. They’d been selected to handle any unexpected issues with the animals while we were doing our part. Behind all of us stood the farmers of Vinx who planned to step in and capture Mongols after we were done.
“You know what the biggest problem is in battle?” an older man with a deep voice asked us all as he stood on a bale of hay. We’d been told he was a retired Mozdol from Kir who’d volunteered to help us with our planning.
We stared back at him, our hundreds of faces blank.
“The problem is what I’m seeing now. Confusion. As soon as things don’t go according to plan, no one knows what to do. It’s a mess.”
We nodded. That made sense.
“How often do you think things don’t go according to plan?”
“All the time,” Ewalina answered, loud and clear.
He laughed. “You’re a woman who’s seen a thing or two. She’s right, people. Nothing ever goes exactly according to plan. So, does the biggest army always win?”
We shook our heads. We knew better.
“Does the smartest?”
No, probably not that either.
“How about the luckiest?”
“Sometimes the luckiest,” one of the singers yelled out.
“You’re right, young man. Don’t underestimate dumb luck. But, we can’t do much about it. So if you take out luck, which army wins?”
I took a guess. It wasn’t hard; he’d given us plenty of clues.
“The one that deals best with whatever really happens.” I shouted it out.
He squinted at me. “Bonus points to the lady luski with the red hair. So, let’s get ready for the unexpected.”
We didn’t practice at all that day. Instead, we talked about “what ifs?”
What if it rained? What if it snowed? Could we sing through thunder?
What if the Mongols came days early? How would we assemble? What if they came anks late? What if instead of an army, more envoys showed up to offer us a second deadline? We talked about how decisions would be made and communicated in the most bizarre situations we could imagine.
It was the only time we gathered together like that, but I think it mattered. It gave us a sense of the enormity of what we planned to do.
Hana remained subdued throughout, standing far off to the side. She accepted she wasn’t in charge today. I kept my distance from her, angry at the way she’d worked behind the scenes to cause me such trouble with Davor. Angrier at the way she’d done it merely out of spite.
I kept glancing at her, but she avoided my eyes. She must have figured out I knew what she’d done. She was probably angry, too. Not at me, but at Davor and at the fact that people didn’t always act in the predictable way she hoped. She had to be angry with Ketevan, too, for failing to deliver.
Now, with Kolada so close, few would have patience with her rumors or nonsense. If she still wanted to get her revenge with me, she’d have to wait until after the attack.
Chapter 25. The Wind on My Face
A few days later, the woman who ran our little school asked if she could speak with me when I finished teaching. The day already overflowed with emotion, as tomorrow would be the last day of classes until after the invasion.
Her request unsettled me. All basic schools in Vinx existed under the patronage of our royal family, but the Royals seldom got involved. My country school ran with a surprising lack of management. By custom, the eldest of the teachers enforced the few rules, so a conversation with her usually meant behavior needed to be corrected.
My breasts ached with unused milk from my too-little-too-late efforts to get Votto weaned before he left with my mother. I needed to get his things packed up tonight, and I’d spent most of the morning on the verge of tears. I didn’t need a reprimand today for some minor infraction.
She greeted me with enough warmth to signal the subject of the conversation wasn’t dire.
“I’ll get to the point,” she sai
d. “Many of us were nervous about you returning part-time after you had a baby, but this has worked out well for all, especially the children. Even the people who objected the loudest agree.”
“I’m glad. I hope you know I want to come back after the invasion and work full-time now that Votto is older.”
“It’s a discussion we’ll have later. That’s not what we need to talk about today. Some parents have approached me, and a few have even approached the royal family, expressing concerns about you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because of your potential influence on their children. Preparing for the invasion has made it obvious the somewhat imaginary creatures known as luskies not only exist, but we have many here in Ilari. True?”
“True. My sister with the Velka turned to the luskies for part of our defense.”
“That’s what I heard. They’ve practiced various places around Vinx, and some have observed a young luski with hair quite like yours. I’ll ask directly. Are you that luski?”
“I am. I could have hidden it better, and perhaps I should have, but I was more concerned with learning how to do what I needed to do. I use my gift as part of Ilari’s defense.”
“I understand. It’s why I counseled patience concerning your situation. But Coral, what do I tell parents who are worried you’ll coerce their children to do something wrong?”
“I’d never do that. I have a personal code of ethics, and the luskies have one as well.”
She laughed. “Plenty of people violate codes of ethics every day.”
“And far more do not. Are you capable of hurting one of the small children in my class?”
“What a horrible thought.”
“Yes, but you could do it.”
“I suppose, but …”
“But you wouldn’t, even though you can. And no parent needs to worry about it, right?”
She could see where I was going with this.
“Yes, but everyone would know what I’d done. My understanding is your talents are so subtle, you’d never be found out.”
“Is the only reason you wouldn’t hurt a child because you think you’d be caught? Of course it isn’t.”
“I’m not sure this line of reasoning will bring comfort to a parent.”
“Then tell them this. I have constraints, too. On what I’m capable of and how much I can do without being detected. I’ll give a full accounting of the controls on my behavior. After.”
“That will help. Those who try to chase away their fears over the next two anks by causing trouble for you will get that answer from me. We’ll have a more in-depth conversation. After.”
I turned to go. I had so much I needed to do before this day was over.
“One more thing, Coral. I know every one of you will be risking your life out there. I just want you to know, it means more than I can say, that we could have Vinx to come back too.”
I’d already decided to have my mother come get Votto while I was teaching. Otherwise, I’d probably break down and cry so hard he’d be unmanageable for her. I’d heard Ryalgar would personally escort Mom into the forest and get her settled. I silently thanked my sister, knowing how difficult a journey this would be for Mom.
In the morning, I allowed myself one last time to nurse him, and I played with his hair and tickled his toes while I did. He squirmed and laughed. He didn’t nurse as hard as when he was younger; at nearly a year old the smells and tastes of food intrigued him more. He’d be fine without me.
My most dependable babysitter had agreed to watch him for the morning, so I could have a last session with the little ones. My eyes teared up thinking of them, too, and I thanked the girl for doing this on her last day of school.
“Do you know I’m going to be part of a team to capture Mongols?” she said.
“What? You?”
She and I seldom spoke about anything besides Votto, so I hadn’t expected this. She was a tiny thing; I couldn’t imagine she could hold her own against a man of any normal size and strength.
“It’s the plan your younger sister devised. The one with the short gold hair.”
“Sulphur?”
“That’s her. Each team needs people who are small, quick, and limber. That’s me!”
I felt my heart clench at the thought of this sweet girl dying at the hands of our enemy.
“Please be careful.”
“You do, too.”
I can’t be worrying about my safety. Not yet. I have too many sad good-byes to survive first.
“Janx should be here soon with Chessa. Remind her she promised to be strong for me. Tell her I’ll see her again soon.” That was another good-bye I avoided. “And be sure and give my mother and sister my love. I think they’ll understand why I couldn’t be here. I hope they will.”
I turned and left before she could see either the sorrow or the fear on my face.
We held the last practice at our farm a few days later. I planned to stay there with my dad until I had to be in place for Kolada, so before I left my house, I loaded poor Nutmeg down with sacks holding as many of my things as she could carry and then I added whatever food and drink I didn’t wish to leave in an empty home. Burdened as she was, I rode her slow, and twice I got off and walked to give her a break. While on foot, I made an important decision.
I hadn’t planned for life to go this way, but everyone who mattered to me now knew I was a luski. Except for Janx and Chessa. I couldn’t do much about Chessa, but I needed to tell Janx. Tomorrow. Too many other people knew and he’d find out soon. If we were going to have any sort of a life together, it needed a foundation of honesty.
Then I had a horrible thought. What if he knew already? Maybe he’d heard since the last time I’d seen him. What if our foundation already contained my lies? Which would bother him most? My talents? Or my lack of candor? I had to get over there tomorrow.
I arrived at the farm early enough to unload my things. Before I put Nutmeg in the stable, I gave her an apple as a thank you for the extra burdens she’d carried. My parents’ other horses whinnied their happiness at seeing her. I knew horses made friends much like humans, so I supposed they’d missed her, and she’d missed them, too.
Once I unpacked my belongings, I headed to the barn seeking Celestine. She and I seldom talked at practices, not wanting to draw attention to my identity, but today I’d taken off my mask. The wind on my bare face felt good.
Celestine saw me and pointed to her eyes and opened her hands palms up as though to say “what gives?” I ran to her, laughing.
“Davor was good about it, the school doesn’t care, at least not much, Mom knows and I just have one more person to tell. Then I could give a scump who else finds out. I’m done hiding. I’ve decided I’m going to be Ilari’s first public luski!”
She hugged me, sharing in my glee. “I’m so glad. I’m sick of pretending I don’t know you!”
We walked arm in arm over to the rest of the group.
“So what do you think today is about? Another pep talk?” I asked her.
“Part of it is the stuff I’ve been working on with Ryalgar. Communication ideas. How we’ll get everyone where they need to be when. It’s pretty cool.”
“You worked on that?” I didn’t mean to sound surprised.
“Yeah. Me and a friend.” She probably didn’t mean to sound defensive, either.
“Okay, everyone. Get comfortable. We’ve got lots to go over.” Hana oozed confidence and leadership as she took center stage. As Celestine predicted, we talked about logistics. Local inns and various families had offered lodging to those from other nichnas. Everyone, including the singers, were to be in Vinx within five days. Our small group of reczavy fire makers already camped just inside the forest. I guessed they preferred living under the slightly more tolerant auspices of the Velka until they were needed.
As Celestine said, elaborate methods of communication had been devised to keep us in touch, and we were required to sit through a lengthy explanation of each
.
“Okay, everybody get up and walk around. Get some water, pee if you must. We go over assignments next.” Hana’s good humor kept everyone’s fear at bay. You’d think we discussed arrangements for a complicated party.
“Assignments? I thought we all were working together? What’s to assign?” The person who asked wore a mask but I knew she was Ewalina. She and the other luskies remained disguised, but by now I knew who each of them were. They were all too polite to ask why I’d removed my mask; maybe they figured I didn’t mind showing my face because this was my home.
I wondered if any of the others would adopt my open approach after Kolada. Each of them had said they led complicated lives. Perhaps my decision was easy compared to what theirs would involve.
“I’ve decided we’ll work in five teams,” Hana said as the group began to gather back together. “It will make it easier for us to move around. We’ll start with two teams on either side of the fire and adjust as the smoke gets thicker. Luskies, all twenty of you have been given a number. Singers, you’re being assigned by your performing groups. So team one is luskies one through five, Celestine’s performing combo, and the entire choir from Zur. The large gong goes with them. Team two …”
I stopped listening so I could do the math. There were twenty-one luskies still involved, including me. The other twenty were holding numbers. I was not. I didn’t like where this was going.
“Team four.” Hana kept talking. “You’re obviously luski numbers sixteen through twenty, the drummers from Faroo, the three singing duets here from Lev, and the kids choir from Pilk. Older kids only, right?”
“Yep. We sent the little ones on,” an older man assured her.
“Great. Have I missed anyone?”
She looked in my direction daring me to say something.
“You said five teams,” Ewalina yelled out. “Where’s the fifth?” I could have hugged her.
“Ah yes. Team five will be a special assignment team, a mere duo handling emergencies as they arise and then joining whichever team appears most in need at the end. It will consist of me, and one of our stronger luskies. The one who looks like she has nothing to hide today.”