Daughter of the Mármaros

by Shayna Grissom

  Bernadette nodded. “The baby grows strong.”

  He kept his distance, watching her with his yellow cat eyes. “The boys throw rocks at me when I try to come to them now. Why is that, Bernadette?”

  She smiled thinly. “I told them to not speak with you in dreams anymore. If you want to speak with them, you must do so in person.”

  Alexi clenched his jaw and glared at her. “Why would you do that? They are my children.”

  “They’re my children now.”

  “Oh,” he mocked. “Your children? While you’ve been sitting in your pretty pink palace, I have been keeping an eye on all our children, trying to find a way to get you out!”

  Bernadette didn’t appreciate his tone. She chose to take responsibility that wasn’t hers because she loved them and decided to be with Alexi supposedly because she loved him, too. Still, Bernadette couldn’t see why without her memories.

  “If you love them so much, why did Adam refer himself as a pawn?” she charged. “He’s not even five years old, Alexi. No boy that young would know what a pawn was. I mentioned it to Otto. The boys have never even seen a chessboard.”

  Alexi paled at this. He went back on his heels, but Bernadette was infuriated by the mention of the conversation. “Your ambitions exceed far beyond their well-being or mine, for that matter.”

  Bernadette spun around and marched toward the firelight of the camp. Her body and her children were waiting for her.

  “Bernadette, please,” he pleaded. “Wait, don’t go.”

  “Otto says we are close to the Rambling Bush.”

  “Bernadette...”

  “Maybe I’ll love you once more. I don’t know.”

  “You’ll always love me,” he promised.

  #

  Her eyes burst open and she sat up. Bernadette was back in her bed beside the fire. Her heart was racing, and the baby squirmed in her stomach from the action. She looked around and did a headcount. All six boys were tucked in safely by the dying embers of their fire.

  It was several more weeks of travel before they passed a thin jungle of red bark trees and lazy hills. The boys tried to teach Bernadette how to sing like they did. She was improving steadily, but she doubted she would be able to meet their abilities.

  Bernadette was singing with Gabe and Adam as they danced in a circle while Cal and Otto collected firewood and Jon watched. Tom came running towards them with his bow over one shoulder and three rabbits in his hand. “We’re there. We’re nearly there!”

  “The Rambling Bush?” Bernadette asked.

  The boy nodded as he gasped for air. He had run a long way, it seemed.

  Bernadette saw the worry in Otto’s face. He had never said anything about it, but it appeared he and Cal disliked the idea of going to this place. Alexi warned her as much. She didn’t give it much thought until today, but she distrusted Alexi. The boys dared not defy him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she, too, was nothing but a pawn to him.

  While most of the boys were distracted by bath time at a nearby creek, Bernadette held back with Gabe. She was the only one who could bathe him anyway. Cal was the first to return, so she decided they’d have a chat about the Rambling Bush.

  “We’re close,” she said while Gabe played with sticks in the dirt.

  Cal shrugged. He was usually the most talkative of the bunch. His silence told her that there was more to this story than Alexi had alluded to.

  “What is it?” she asked gently.

  Cal was shaken. He looked around to make sure the others were not near. “I was Tom and Jon’s age when it happened. Otto is a few years older, so he remembers better than I do, but...”

  Bernadette waited for him to recollect himself. He took a deep breath and continued. “It wasn’t always the six of us. I mean, obviously, the little ones, not counting them. Before Tom and Jon, I mean. We were looked after by a much older brother.

  “We were out here, looking for others. Damion said there were more and lots more. Otto didn’t want to go. Begged him not to, but he went into the bush anyway. He muffled his ears with his hands to keep the voices out. We drug him out, just the two of us, but he wasn’t the same after that.

  “Then one day he said something about needing to protect his sisters, whatever those were, and left us sitting there. We waited for days in that spot until Alexi found us. Alexi said he went into the Mármaros and that we shouldn’t worry about Damion. He was helping us in a way that no one else could.”

  It made sense to Bernadette. This Damion character heard something in the Rambling Bush that suggested his sisters were at risk. Whatever it was, it must have been bad enough to leave the boys in such a manner. It left her stomach feeling unsettled. There were many dangers women faced that boys never truly understood.

  It also singled to her that life for these people was not kind at the Mármaros. It was another reason she needed her memories back. She would need them if she intended to confront her people for enslaving other races.

  When it was her and Gabe’s turn to wash in the creek, Bernadette was surprised to find that Gabe did not cling to her as he once did. She wondered if it had to do with the depth of the water. It was shallow and warmed by the sun. It made washing more difficult for her, especially in her condition. She had to roll around in an ungainly manner to clean herself properly. She didn’t look forward to growing even more substantial.

  Gabe jumped and splashed without prompt. He played with the shiny wet rocks and laughed. The only time he put up any fuss was when it was time to wash his hair. Gabe always screamed as if he were being murdered when the water reached his eyes.

  “Shh,” she told him. “It will not hurt you.”

  He clung around her neck and his little nails tried to embed themselves into her skin, but it was no use. Her epidermis was too resilient. Gabe grew so frustrated that he bit her on the shoulder, not a mean, pinching, spiteful bite, but more like a gentle gnawing like he didn’t know any other way to relieve the tension.

  Once Bernadette had sufficiently groomed him, he shook his head like an animal would and went plodding towards the camp, reeling the water off his back legs as he went. It made her giggle. She wondered if he would do that in adulthood. Old habits die hard.

  #

  That night, Cal was still awake when everyone else was asleep. She knew because he kept his eyes closed by squinting as hard as he could. “You need to talk?” Bernadette whispered.

  “How did you know I was awake?”

  She smiled. Cal was a clever boy but didn’t always act his age. Bernadette supposed that had to do more with his upbringing or the lack thereof than his personality. “I can’t sleep either.”

  “You’re afraid of tomorrow, too?”

  “I am nervous, but it’s the only way I might get my memories back.”

  “You don’t need those to know what you have now.”

  He was right, but if Bernadette would sway anyone into letting the servants free, she needed to know what she was talking about. If she wanted to know the truth behind Alexi, she needed to remember their past. “It’s not just about us anymore.”

  “But what if you go crazy like Damion did?” He asked.

  Bernadette didn’t know how to answer that. It didn’t seem to her that the man went crazy. It had more to do with something Cal and Otto were too young to understand. The incident became demonized in their mind and a significant source of anxiety. These boys were abandoned by all the adult figures in their life. They had every right to fear that she would do the same.

  “You’ve seen how strong my skin is,” she said. “Have you ever seen it scratched?”

  “No.”

  “Punctured?”

  Cal shook his head.

  “Then what makes you think voices could break through it?”

  Cal grinned. “Just glad it’s not the rambling lake.”

  Bernadette laughed harder than she intended. She snorted as she held back her laughter with the back of her hand. Water ca
me spilling from her eyes. She was thankful that the boys were hard sleepers. “I’ll be okay. I might be sad for a while, but I’ll get through it.”

  “Is it because of your skin or because of what’s underneath it?” He asked.

  “Why the voices won’t hurt me?”

  Cal nodded.

  She pondered that for a minute. The reason she was even willing to do it in the first place all stemmed down to wanting to protect the boys. Bernadette would never allow them to be servants. She couldn’t permit others of their kind to endure the same. She suspected they were mistreated but couldn’t remember any evidence that would suggest it. However, abuse would always be a direct symptom of servitude.

  “I think it’s the six of you that makes me strong.”

  Cal smiled and closed his eyes for real this time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There was a distinct wall of dust that marked the boundary into the Rambling Bush. A seemingly invisible barrier separated them from the dust storm on the other side. Bernadette suspected this phenomenon was more to do with a trick of the weather rather than a magical quality. Conflicting wind currents could have this effect. So could atmospheric anomalies. While her memories were gone, most of her education remained intact. Bernadette couldn’t deny how ominous it looked, however.

  Extending a hand forward, she found little to no resistance through the dust shield. The storm thrashed about her hand, but she paid no mind to it. It would aggravate the children’s sensitive skin and eyes, though.

  “All of you should stay here,” she said.

  Instantly, she was met with objections not just from Cal and Otto, but the twins and even the young ones as well. They did not want her to go in. They did not want to lose her. It broke her heart that they were so fearful to be left behind once again.

  “Here,” she said, grabbing the cord that they had once taken from her dress and converted into a rope. She tied it around her waist and gave Otto the other end. “If something happens, you’ll be able to pull me out.”

  Otto held the cord, but he was openly crying. Bernadette wiped away his tears. “A true mark of manhood,” she told him before walking into the storm.

  Bernadette had to use her hands to protect her eyes from the storm. The dirt stung her eyes, but she ignored it. Ahead lay nothing but dried up land. There were no bushes at all. She thought perhaps the bushes would come into view the further she waded into the territory but as slack of the cord ran short, she saw no bushes at all.

  She came to the end of her rope and decided to give up. Alexi said he couldn’t promise it would restore her memory. Maybe he meant that he didn’t know if the bushes were still alive. She turned around to head back and a sort of buzzing noise occurred. Bernadette looked around and didn’t see a source. A tumbleweed emerged from the storm and rolled on.

  Last time I told her the truth, it was too much, and she fled.

  She knew that to be Alexi’s voice though it wasn’t talking to her. He was speaking to someone else. Bernadette tried to decode the meaning, but it was useless without context. Was it even really said, or was it just a hallucination? She couldn’t be sure.

  A mare with a donkey.

  Bernadette fidgeted nervously. What in the world did a horse have to do with anything? Despite her rationality, she found herself inexplicably frightened. The more scared she became, the angrier she got. Bernadette planted her feet and bawled her fists as mists of sand sprayed her face.

  The crop wasn’t good this year.

  Another voice whispered unnervingly close. It felt as though the person were breathing down her neck when they said it. It made her cringe and grit her teeth. How could this help? Tumbleweeds surrounded Bernadette. She tripped on them as she walked in a daze.

  No! No! Please don’t forget again.

  It was Alexi once more. He was pleading for her not to forget. Only, Bernadette didn’t remember him having this reaction after she drank the water. He never cried out in distress. He didn’t say again. This had happened before.

  The winds whipped at her locks and beat against her eyes, but she didn’t care. The Rambling Bushes were telling her a story, but the story was far longer than she anticipated. She had been given that water many times. Alexi tried to explain it to her before and she didn’t believe him.

  She is only doing what is in her nature to do. She is the mother of them and us. It’s only natural that Bernadette develops maternal feelings towards those boys. We do not need to fear the pawns because that is all they are.

  It was not Alexi who said these words, but a different voice. An ambitious man said these words. She clung to his words and memories that were once coiled came unraveling around her. His name was Thius. He was the high councilor of her people and he was to be her intended despite tradition.

  She ran away before she could be forced to mate with his predecessor, Stevis. He convinced the council that he would be more successful in wooing her. Her people needed her to breed. They needed her to continue their race, but it wouldn’t work. It would never work, no matter how they tried.

  Bernadette felt a tug on the cord tied over her baby bump. She didn’t have time to absorb everything that she now remembered. Six little boys were waiting for her. Six little hearts were on the verge of breaking if she didn’t come back in one piece. She gave a gentle series of tugs back to promise she was returning. The tumbleweeds told her more things as she waded by, but most of them she knew and understood.

  The last thing she heard before she stepped through the barrier was Thius’s voice saying, “If I am to be the king, she must become my queen.”

  As the cord was leading Bernadette, she saw six shadows standing before her and burst into tears. She had only been gone a short while but oh, how she missed them.

  She ran as fast as her heavy legs could without breaking into a stampede. Bernadette ran through the barrier and into the arms of her sons.

  #

  None of them spoke for a time. Bernadette felt empty and her brain fogged. The experience was infinitely more than she expected. It wasn’t just a few memories she regained. It was all of them, and they hit her all at once not as old recollections, but as fresh, raw, seemingly yesterday memories. Scenes played in her head of things that happened thousands of years ago as if they had just happened and her mind ached and tingled as she struggled to digest them.

  She couldn’t look at the boys for fear that they would ask questions. Bernadette didn’t feel as though she’d even have the brainpower to begin to explain. She lay on her side and tears streamed down her face. She could hear Cal say, “She said it might make her sad, but that it’s okay to be sad. We need to give her time.”

  The wild one climbed under her arm and snuggled close to her chest. Gabe’s soft breaths were easy to focus on and helped Bernadette fall asleep. “Good boy,” she said.

  Bernadette didn’t know for how long she slept. Every so often she would be shaken awake to find a waterskin thrust in her face. She’d eat and drink as much as she could. Sit up, walk around and relieve herself. Her sons cared for her every step of the way, but when the sleep wore off, the memories would come to catch up to her.

  At first, it was overwhelming, but with each time she woke up, Bernadette was able to stay awake a little while longer. She didn’t dream. Her mind was too full for Alexi to find his way in, but he must have been there because the boys didn’t seem as frightened as before. Perhaps it had been so long that they grew accustomed to the situation. Either way, she found herself with the desire to know, and for the first time since the Rambling Bush, Bernadette spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should be present.”

  Cal shrugged. His expression was cheerful but genuine. “Alexi explained to us. You got a lot more than you bargained for. Besides, we sort of like it here.”

  Bernadette looked around to find themselves back in the groves of red-barked trees. There were mushrooms and moss. All sorts of birds lived here though they were not nearly as colo
rful as the birds in the jungle. Green leaves were fading to brown as they fell to the ground creating a rain of color around her. She smiled and thought the place looked rather magical.

  “Does Alexi still want us to meet him at the cliffs?” she asked.

  “We’re safe here for now,” Otto said as he emerged from the denser part of the jungle. “Just rest up and recover.”

  And that is what Bernadette did. It wasn’t a steady line of progress. Some days she was strong enough to help with chores and play with the little ones. Other days she could hardly stand without shaking. Sometimes she mourned everything she had lost, everything they took away from her. Other times, Bernadette understood that possessive love at the core of her people’s choices.

  #

  The leaves fell at a harder rate and the air had developed a chill. It seemed that winter was returning at last. The boys were forced to forego their loincloths for more substantial furs sewn together, many of the articles by her. She had forgotten, but at one point, she was a wonderful seamstress.

  The needlework helped Bernadette focus her mind. Tom brought skin after skin that the boys would tan and soften with lye stones until they were clean enough for her to cut and shape into clothing and blankets. They loved watching her work. The boys would sit around the fire and tell made up stories as she worked.

  “That’s a really big blanket,” Adam said, noting her latest work.

  “It’s not a blanket. It’s a cover for a tent.”

  “I don’t know how to make one,” Otto said. His thick brows were nearly scrunched together from frowning.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.”

  Bernadette was forced to forego her lace dress for furs as well. She had soft brown leather pants and a fur vest with a wide leather belt that laced up the front. Her arms remained exposed, but Adam needed pants. She’d make sleeves later if it got too cold. Gabe hated the clothes but tolerated them because he hated the cold more. It made her laugh the first time he walked around in his little britches and wrap-fur shoes.