by John Dalmas
They found where the tracks moved on, and leaning forward in the saddle, Melody started following them.
"Where are you going?"
"To see if we can come up on it. We'll probably never have another chance to see one."
"Hey! Wait now! They're dangerous!"
She looked at him as if to say, "So?"
"Suppose you do? And suppose he doesn't like it?"
"Then he'd have to run fast enough to catch us."
"He just might do that."
"Damn it, Macurdy! Who's the one that climbed the tree to chase the jaguar out?"
"I didn't have any choice."
"Well then, who went into the fallen timber and buffaloed Slaney? And who went into the Kormehri camp and fronted down a whole damned company?"
"I had to do those things, honey. I didn't have any choice!"
"Macurdy, you can be so exasperating!"
"Besides, you're pregnant. If something happens to you…"
She swore at him, and turning her horse, trotted across the bottomland and up onto the terrace, Macurdy trotting Hog a bit behind. He knew what would happen next, and he was right; when she got onto the firmer high ground, she kicked her horse to a gallop. The last he saw of her, she'd crossed a field of corn stubble and cleared the rail fence on the other side. He shook his head, wondering if she'd ever get over her reckless streak. After the baby comes, he told himself. If she didn't jiggle and jar it to death first. He wasn't going to bring that up though. Not again.
To his relief, there was no predation. The great boar passed through the neighborhood leaving no damage behind.
They had snow cover two weeks before the solstice, which everyone said was early. And when, a month later, it had deepened instead of melting, they said it was the hardest winter they'd ever seen. Finally, in mid-One-Month, a thaw arrived, with an all-night rain that took the snow out at one shot.
Meanwhile Melody had begun to swell, and not long afterward could feel the fetus move inside her. In bed, she'd place Macurdy's hand where he could feel it, and he decided he loved her more than ever. She was more affectionate than ever, too, given to kissing him without warning-or without cause, so far as he could see.
One night after they'd made careful love, she lay gentle fingers on his cheek. "Liiset calls you Curtis," she said. "Is that what Varia called you?"
"Um-hmm."
"Would you like me to call you that?"
"If you'd like. I like whatever you call me." He chuckled. "Except when you're mad at me. Some of those names I don't like too well."
"Curtis," she said thoughtfully. "Curtis. I like it." She kissed him. "Curtis, I love you. I love you very much."
And when they got up in the morning, she still called him Curtis. She stopped running her horse, too, settling for a walking gait, or an easy trot. She's settling down, he told himself. At last.
In the beginning of Two-Month, with the ground bare, the big freeze struck. The fireplaces, never adequate in cold weather, seemed almost useless now. More blankets were piled on the beds, enough that they had to wake up to turn over. Ice froze in the pail in the kitchen, and despite the fireplace, burst the ceramic pitcher on the washstand in their bedroom. Macurdy let Blue Wing perch on the mantle in the living room, though the bird suffered from claustrophobia indoors. Then, blowing on his fingers from time to time, the squire of Macurdy Manor sat down and drew plans for a brick stove, with flues to be built in the walls between the living room and the rooms adjacent, intending to build it the next summer.
The big freeze lasted for four days, cold enough that when he went outside, even at midday, the hairs in his nostrils stiffened. Something which, back home in Washington County, was taken to mean the temperature was below zero.
This time the cold broke without a storm; on the fifth day it simply warmed up. Not up to freezing-not that warm-but the bright sun felt good on his face, and the cows were let out for the exercise. The sparrows and crows were out too, those that hadn't died. And Blue Wing. After five days with only brief hours outside, he flew high and wide. "The river is frozen," he announced when he returned, and said that was something rare for the Green. The ground was certainly frozen-as hard as the new concrete pavement on Main Street back in Salem.
The next day dawned warmer than the day before. Toward noon the temperature rose above freezing, the bright sun shining on a slick of mud atop the frozen ground, and Macurdy and Melody saddled their horses for a ride. The cattle tracks went directly to the pasture above the woods, and when the two riders got there, Macurdy rode around examining what condition it was in, while Melody rode down to see the frozen river, and Blue Wing soared high overhead. The pasture grass was a mixture, and grazed-down enough that Macurdy wasn't sure what species dominated. Nor how much winter-kill there might be, given such severe cold without snow cover.
He heard Blue Wing shrieking something and looked up, to see the raven spiraling down, almost diving. The short hairs bristled on Macurdy's neck. Then he discerned the words: "Macurdy! Macurdy! The ice has broken! Melody is in the water!"
Thumping Hog's flanks with his heels, Macurdy galloped as recklessly as Melody ever had. At the river bank he pulled up. The hole was mostly full of broken ice, and only her horse's head showed, whinnying wildly. She's gone under the ice, Macurdy thought, and galloped wildly downstream, where eighty yards away he could see water kept open by rapids. If he could get there before she was carried through and under the next ice…
He got there just as she emerged, and Hog didn't hesitate when Macurdy drove him into water shockingly, deathly cold, reaching her near the foot of the rip. Leaning down, he grabbed her sodden coat with a grip of iron, then Hog fought their way across the current back to shore. Macurdy jumped down and examined her; there was no trace of spirit aura; little even of body aura.
He howled then, howled at the sky like a hound. But only once before turning her over on her stomach and beginning the artificial respiration he'd learned in grade school, at the same time chanting brokenly a formula Arbel had taught him. He pressed and relaxed, pressed and relaxed, until, soaked as he was, he was shivering almost too violently to continue. God! he prayed silently, let her live, and I'll do anything you ask! He knew that artificial respiration would be useless if long interrupted, yet feared that any life which might remain would freeze out of her, so after half an hour, his hands and mind numbed by cold and shock, he stopped. High clouds had moved in to block the sun, as if God himself had turned against him.
Almost too cold to function, he struggled the dead body across Hog's shoulders, then managed, barely, to pull himself into the saddle. At the house, he carried what had been Melody into the living room, while his houseman, who'd come into the room to investigate, melted back out in shock. There was no trace of aura now. He stripped her, dried her, wrapped her in blankets, and laid her out in front of the fireplace. Then, long after there was any use in it, he began artificial respiration again. He had only a vague notion of time, but finally was aware that her body was stiffening.
Moving woodenly, he carried her into the bedroom, washed her, painstakingly brushed her hair, and got her into clean clothes-her dress uniform, stored in a cedar chest against moths. When that was done, he called for his houseman, who came in wide-eyed and silent.
"Have Dellerd harness Socks and hitch him to the buggy. I'm taking my wife to Teklapori."
Not trusting his voice, the houseman nodded silently and disappeared. When he was gone, Macurdy wept violently for about a minute-hard racking sobs that shook his whole body, while the tears sluiced. Then it passed. Stripping himself before the bedroom fire, he rubbed his body with a rough towel till he was red and tingling with renewed circulation. That done, he dressed in dry clothes, put on a heavy coat, and carried the body out to the buggy-a sort of surrey with the back enclosed-where he lay it gently on the back seat. Then, after giving a few instructions to the houseman and farm foreman, he drove off down the road toward the capital, a silent Blue Wing flying
low overhead.
PART 7: Goodbyes 41: Farewell to Melody
" ^ "
I took it easy, driving in to Teklapori; I didn't want to give her body any bumpier a ride than need be. It's not like I thought she was still in it or anything. It was a matter of respect. And besides, it seemed like all of her I had left.
I felt tired and empty, and kind of half conscious, as if my mind was turned off, but every now and then I'd come out of it and look around. After a while it started to get dark, so I stopped and called to Blue Wing, and asked if he'd like to ride on the folding roof. I suspected he wouldn't, on something moving like that, but he didn't much like flying after dark, either, and it seemed as if he wanted to go with me. Or with Melody, actually; him and her had gotten to be such good friends that fall and winter. Anyway he didn't say a thing, just flew up there and perched, and on we went.
After another couple hours, I stopped and put a feedbag of oats on Socks's nose, and when I got back on the seat, Blue Wing was perched on the arm rest on the rider's side, claustrophobia be darned. I didn't say anything when I sat down, but after we started off again, I reached over and stroked his head a couple of times. "Thanks, old friend," I said, and started crying again. After a while he spoke. I don't think he had the equipment to talk really quietly, but he kept it halfway soft.
"That's not her back there, you know."
"I know," I answered. "But I've got to treat her body with respect. She lived in it for more than twenty years, and loved me with it, and I loved her with it."
"Do you feel her now?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No. Do you?"
"Yes." He paused half a minute, then went on. "She tells me you will too, when you go to sleep tonight."
He meant it, I didn't doubt. I didn't know whether she'd really talked to him, or if he only imagined it, but he believed what he told me. "How does she seem?" I asked him.
"Different and the same. She is herself, beyond doubt, but without appurtenances or impurities, irritations or anxieties."
"Umm." I looked at that. "I never knew Melody to have anxieties."
"Oh yes. Some of her impatience grew out of anxiety. Anxiety that she'd miss something, that it might get away. Everyone, man or raven, has a main inner impediment in life. Impatience was hers."
I thought about that. She'd been patient enough waiting for me, but overall it seemed like he was right. I wondered what my main impediment was. "Is she happy?" I asked.
"Yes she is. If you concentrate, perhaps you can sense her, even awake."
I tried it: made a picture of her in front of me, hoping she might sort of step into it, but she didn't, so I gave up on it and just drove along. After a while I got sleepy, and about half dozed. Then it seemed like there was a light floating above Socks, a sort of round glow maybe three feet across, and I stared at it, not hard, just looking. It was a spirit aura without any body, I realized, and told myself whose it had to be. Although a lot of the pattern was missing. hOf course, darling,h she thought to me. My hair stood right on end; even the follicles without hair drew up in little cones. hA lot of an aura,h she went on, hgoes with living or comes from living.h I started to shake, not scared, but just… It's really you, I thought to her, and realized that along with the goose bumps, and the tears running down my face, I was grinning like a fool.
We rode along like that awhile without anything more being said. There was just a feeling of clear pure love. I don't know how long this went on-fifteen minutes, or an hour or longer. Probably longer, the way things turned out. Then the buggy hit a good bump and my eyes popped open, and the aura was gone. All that was left was a goodbye and a thought-that she loved me, and she'd drop in on me from time to time in my dreams.
I looked to see what Blue Wing had made of all this, or if he even knew, but he was perched there with his head tucked under his wing. So far as I could see, it had all gone by him, and I wondered if maybe I'd been dreaming.
Well, you big lunk, I told myself, you'll just have to be your own witness. Whatever it was you saw, it seems to have healed your soul. Let it go at that. Then the goose bumps came back over me, not fierce like before, but in a sort of comfortable wash, and I almost grinned my face in two. Thank you, Melody, I thought after her. The feeling kept on fizzing another minute, like soda water, then faded and was gone.
Another half hour or so and I could see the fringe of Teklapori ahead, a darker darkness in the night. I'd been longer on the road than I'd had any idea of.
42: Farewell to Tekalos
" ^ "
Melody was gone, but I still needed to burn her body. It's the way things are done in Yuulith. Lots of people there believe that ashing the body releases the soul from it; that otherwise it has to stay till the body decays. Which may be how it is, if you believe it strongly enough. I could have done it on the farm, but her best friends, along with me and Blue Wing, were Jeremid and Loro. They'd want to be there when the pyre was lit, to say a proper goodbye, and plenty of others would too. And she'd come to the ceremony, for their sake and mine, I had no doubt.
I'm getting ahead of myself though. When I drove up to the barbican, it was late enough that in Six-Month it would have been near dawn, but in Two-Month there was a lot of night left. In spite of my warm cap and coat and mitts, I felt about half froze. Overhead in the gate tower they didn't believe who it was; told me to go away and come back at sunup. I told them that somebody better get down there and at least shine a lantern on me, or I'd have their ass on a stick. It took a minute, but finally someone shined a target lantern between the bars of a view slot, and in another half minute what they call "the spy's gate" opened and a guard stepped out. The spy's gate is just wide enough for a man. It's like a ten-foot-long tunnel through the wall. In case of siege, you can use it to let spies in and out after dark. It has a small portcullis at the inner end that they can drop and trap you inside, if they want to. I told the guard who'd opened it that I needed to take the gig in. He could see who I was then, and explained apologetically that they weren't allowed to open the main gate for anyone after midnight, not even a general. Said it had been the rule for a long long time, peace or war.
That not only irritated me, it felt like an insult to Melody, so I grabbed him by the greatcoat, shook him, and held him up against the stone wall.
"You go back inside," I hissed, "and find the officer of the guard, and tell that son of a bitch that General Macurdy will personally flog him right down to the bare ribs if he doesn't get his ass out here right away." And at the time I meant it, though I'd never have done it.
When I let him go, he hurried back inside leaving a string of yessirs behind, and closed the spy's gate after him. It took a few minutes for the officer of the guard to get there-he'd pulled his breeches on over his night shirt and smelled like stale beer-and after seeing for sure who it was, ordered the main gate opened, looking almost as worried about that as he was scared of me. I heard the windlass and chain grind, and watched it raise up. Then I drove the buggy through, and heard it being let down again.
The guards outside the palace itself were no problem. They invited me to sleep in the guard room, but I told them I wouldn't leave Melody. Said I wanted firewood brought out to the graveled walk, and half a dozen blankets. They'd have gotten in trouble if they'd woke up any household help, so while one of them led Socks around to the palace stable, two others brought out wood and kindling, and another came out half buried with army blankets. I laid a fire, lit it with a pass of my hand, wrapped myself in blankets with my feet toward the flames, and went to sleep on the ground.
I woke up stiff, with frost on my eyebrows. The sun had just come up and was shining in my face. The door guards had kept the fire fed, and when the household help was up and about, they'd told them where I was, and why. So almost as quick as I stood up, the steward came out and asked what I wanted done with "Colonel Melody's mortal remains," volunteering a small building used for holding bodies. Somehow I didn't want to leave it though, and asked
him just to let the king and queen know. And to have something brought out that Blue Wing and I could eat. Blue Wing was awake ahead of me, and sat on the roof of the buggy with his feathers fluffed out against the cold.
The food arrived a few minutes ahead of Wollerda. When he came out, it occurred to me that I looked pretty strange-a little crazy, you get right down to it-sitting in the buggy wrapped in blankets, sharing heated-up leftovers of last night's supper roast with a great raven the size of a turkey buzzard. With the frozen body of my wife on the back seat, and the remains of my fire black and gray on his front walk. So when he urged me to come in-the guards would watch the gig, he said-I went inside with him.
Minutes later he was giving orders for a big ceremonial pyre to be built on the parade ground in eight days. That gave him time to have people sent for-officers from the march north, and especially the rebel army-and time for them to get there. I asked what if the weather turned warm, but Liiset said not to worry. Which brought to mind Kittul Kenderson putting a spell on the dead dwarves so they wouldn't spoil. The weather had been a lot warmer then.
I borrowed a saddle horse and rode north myself to tell Jeremid. It didn't seem right to send someone else. I got there in time for supper, and right away he sent a rider to let Loro know, and Jesper and Tarlok. After we'd eaten, he poured himself wine, while I drank sassafras.
"I don't know what to say, Macurdy," he told me. "I expected you two to grow old together. I'd decided early on that the best I could hope for was, she might marry me if you got your Varia back. But as long as she had a chance with you, she'd never settle for anyone else."