Until Dawn

by Laura Taylor

  Now it was Nicholas’ turn to be flustered. “Uh… given the current circumstances, I didn’t think it was really -”

  “Screw current circumstances. In twenty years’ time, circumstances may be very different. I’m not marrying some asshole who thinks he can run off with another woman!”

  Well, she certainly wasn’t shy about voicing her opinion. But before Nicholas could pull his thoughts together, Aidan butted in. “I swear to exclude all others from our relationship,” he said simply. “Okay?”

  “Much better,” Dusk agreed, then she turned back to Nicholas. “Please, continue.”

  “Very well. I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he concluded. A round of applause followed, then Aidan and Dusk moved out of the way to allow the next couple to come forward. “Linda? Come this way, please?” he invited her, and she came forward, Mikey and Julia holding each of her hands, a nervous smile on her lips. “Linda, the tribe has selected Whisper to be your husband. Do you agree to their choice?”

  So far, Linda had proved to be something of a conundrum. She seemed both meek and outspoken, easy going and yet also stubborn. She’d agreed to numerous suggestions put to her throughout the afternoon, but she’d also baulked at unexpected moments and had a knack for asking unsettling questions. And now, she didn’t fail to deliver. “Why was Whisper chosen?” she asked bluntly. “I’m not objecting at this point, I’m just asking for more information.”

  Aidan stepped forward, prepared to explain to Linda what was common knowledge for the rest of the tribe. “Whisper held this tribe together for a long time after the collapse. He taught the rest of us a lot of skills that kept us alive, and he helped us persevere through the despair that dragged a lot of people under. I don’t think it’s overstating the point to say that we wouldn’t be here today if not for him. So choosing him as your husband was done out of gratitude for everything he’s done for us.” Linda looked suitably impressed by the recommendation. Nicholas waited to see if Aidan would fill in the last part of the explanation… and wasn’t entirely surprised when he didn’t. Well, that was fair enough. Perhaps Linda didn’t really need to know…

  “That sounds reasonable enough,” Linda said finally. “And you’re prepared to look after my children?” she asked Whisper.

  “I am,” he said simply. “As if they were my own.” He didn’t embellish the statement any further than that.

  Linda smiled, a knowing look that suggested she might enjoy cutting off his balls if he was lying. “Then yes, I’ll agree to wed this gentleman.”

  “Before we proceed, there’s one other question I’d like to ask you. As you’d have noticed, some of us have taken new names to reflect our roles in this new world. And a name has been proposed for you: Willow.”

  “Life’s storms have battered you,” Whisper spoke up suddenly from beside Linda, though Nicholas had been prepared to explain the name. “You bend before the winds of change, but you do not break. Therefore, you are Willow. Will you accept your new name?”

  Linda was silent for a moment and had to swallow hard before she could speak. “Yes,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m honoured. Thank you.”

  “Then let’s proceed with the vows,” Nicholas said, leading both of them through the same questions he’d asked of Dusk and Aidan – with the amendment of also asking Whisper to forsake all others before anyone made a fuss about it again.

  Once they were finished, Nicholas called Mei-Lien forward. Having been present at the meeting that afternoon, he knew that choosing a partner for her had been more difficult. Whisper’s nomination had been an obvious one; his prominent role in the tribe meant people would have actually been quite shocked if he hadn’t ended up with a wife. And Linda happened to be of the right sort of age, the gap between them only four years or so, which had made her the logical match for him. But for Mei-Lien, the answer hadn’t been nearly so obvious. She was twenty-four years old, she’d shyly confessed that afternoon. She’d never been married, she’d never had any children, and her natural shyness meant they hadn’t wanted to partner her with anyone with too strong a personality. If they did, she’d just end up being walked over, whether intentionally or not, and both Nicholas and Aidan had steadfastly refused to choose a husband for her who didn’t have a reasonable chance of being suited to her.

  Casting his gaze over the crowd, Nicholas caught sight of the man who’d been selected and looked him in the eye. “Stormbreaker? Would you be willing to fill the role of Mei-Lien’s husband?” It had been a tough choice. Stormbreaker was one of the younger men, only twenty-three years old. He was a fine warrior and a superb scout, but at the same time, he’d done nothing exceptional for the tribe that made him stand out over half a dozen other potential candidates, and all five men who’d gathered to discuss the choice were expecting there to be some fallout over the decision.

  Stormbreaker’s eyes opened wide and his head snapped around to look at Mei-Lien. Vibrant delight lit his face, as Mei-Lien beamed back at him… but then he seemed to suddenly freeze. “Um…” He glanced at Nicholas, then back to Mei-Lien… and a split-second flicker of his eyes towards another figure, a blonde one, standing just beyond Mei-Lien’s shoulder, told Nicholas everything he needed to know. Stormbreaker opened his mouth to speak, changed his mind, glanced around the gathered men and tried to start again. The debate going on inside his head must have been intense.

  “I’m sorry,” he said finally, which was both a shock to Nicholas, and a relief. Jealousy was a dastardly curse, and it had ripped apart far too many relationships. “No, I’m not prepared to take on that role at the moment. I’m sorry.”

  Mei-Lien’s face fell, and Nicholas looked urgently to Aidan for guidance. None of them had supposed for a moment that Stormbreaker would turn the offer down.

  “Just a moment, please.” Aidan tapped Whisper on the arm, then they both hopped up on the platform for a quick discussion with Nicholas. Stormbreaker hadn’t been the only man they’d discussed in their meeting, and choosing a second option wasn’t too difficult.

  “Torrent?” Aidan said, after they’d put their heads together for a minute or two. “Are you up for it?”

  Torrent seemed more shocked than anything else. “I’d be honoured,” he managed to say, after taking a moment to find his voice.

  “Very well then,” Nicholas said, relieved that they could move forward. “Torrent was the man who bought this land, long before the collapse occurred,” he said quickly, looking at Mei-Lien, sparing her the embarrassment of having to ask what Torrent had done to make him worthy. “He was responsible for acquiring most of our livestock from surrounding abandoned properties, and he currently maintains our small but prosperous miking herd and dairy. Are you willing to take him as your husband?” Torrent was older than Mei-Lien, thirty-three to her twenty-four, with a lumpy nose and a somewhat squashed-looking face, but he was a temperate sort of man with a soothing nature that came from spending too many hours talking to his cows.

  Mei-Lien looked around, seeming lost for the moment. Her gaze drifted over Stormbreaker, who was currently avoiding looking at her, then to Aidan, as if asking for guidance, and then finally settled on Torrent. It must have been rather a rude shock to be turned down, Nicholas supposed, given that the tribe was desperately short of women. “Yes, okay,” Mei-Lien said finally, not really sure what else she should do.

  Half an hour later, Aidan was sitting on a low stone wall, watching the glimmer of the firelight through the trees. He drained the last of the beer from his glass, wishing he had something stronger. Tonight, after he got back to his cabin, things were going to get interesting and, given the prickly nature of his new wife, not necessarily in a pleasant way.

  Beside him, Whisper sighed, the sound encapsulating much of what Aidan was feeling. “Forty-eight hours later and we both find ourselves with wives,” Whisper said. Aidan muttered a soft curse. Was it really only forty-eight hours ago? They’d been sitting in this exact spot, ruminating on the future of the
tribe, when a scout had come racing into the village and told them that a band of slavers were making their way up the eastern road with a captive in tow. How much their world had changed in that short time.

  “Whatever life throws at you, you have to make the best of it that you can,” Aidan said, knowing even as he said it that simple platitudes were not going to solve all the problems that were going to crop up in the next few weeks as a result of their new arrivals. “That’s what a wise man taught me,” he added, glancing sideways at Whisper’s shadowy form.

  Whisper huffed at him, but said nothing. For all the honour the tribe bestowed upon him for helping them all survive, he’d told them often enough that if they really wanted to make it in this world, they would have to pull their heads out of their asses and make the decision to survive themselves, with or without him. They were only ever one raid, or one storm, or one bushfire away from losing him anyway, and he had no patience for what he considered to be misguided hero worship.

  A tiny reflection of the distant firelight caught Aidan’s attention, and he glanced down at Whisper’s left hand. A wedding band still sat on his ring finger, unmoved from the day his wife had put it there just over eleven years ago. Aidan considered mentioning it; it wouldn’t make a great impression on Linda – or rather Willow – when she finally noticed it and caught its significance. But at the same time, Aidan knew there was no way in hell he could just come out and tell Whisper to take it off. But before he could even finish his own mental debate, Whisper noticed the direction of his gaze, and glanced down at the ring himself.

  “Do you miss her?” Aidan asked, trying to come at the issue in as indirect a way as possible.

  “Every day,” Whisper admitted. “Both of them…” Whisper was one of the few men in the tribe who had actually had any experience raising children. His daughter had been only three years old when she’d been killed by slavers.

  “Willow’s not a replacement…” Aidan tried to say, but trailed off when he found he didn’t know how to finish the sentiment.

  “No,” Whisper agreed. But then he glanced sideways at Aidan with a wry smirk. Changing the subject, he remarked, “You’ve got your work cut out for you with Dusk.”

  Aidan snorted out a laugh. “She’s got a mind of her own, that’s for sure.”

  “Bloody oath, mate, that she does.” Whisper shook his head. “You’ve got a decent set of balls on you, trying to sleep with her. But seriously, I think she’s going to be good for this tribe. She’s smart. Stubborn and argumentative, but did you notice the battles she chose not to fight today?”

  “I did,” Aidan agreed. “She’s got an eye for strategy.”

  “And that’s something we could certainly use more of.” With a sigh, Whisper stood up, stretching stiff muscles. They’d fought two battles in as many days, and neither of them were getting any younger. “It’s time Willow and I put the children to bed,” he announced. Though it was well past what might be considered ‘bedtime’, both children had been so excited that it hadn’t seemed fair to exclude them from the party.

  “And tucked your wife in at the same time?” Aidan suggested with a smirk. But Whisper’s sombre mood returned just as swiftly as it had left. He looked away and said nothing. “Give it time,” Aidan advised him, knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Aidan stormed into his cabin, flinging the door open so hard it hit the wall and bounced back, nearly catching Dusk in the face as she came in after him. She slammed the door shut again, ignoring the way it made the windows rattle. “You said I had the right to leave,” she insisted again, and Aidan was by now sorely regretting the throwaway comment he’d made about berries and whipped cream being better than a night alone in the wilderness. Dusk had snapped out some sharp retort, he’d snapped back, insulted by whatever she’d said – he couldn’t even remember what it was anymore – and a raging argument had ensued. “You’re the one who said it was my choice,” she yelled at him, “so I don’t see why you’re so pissed off about it.”

  Aidan slammed his fist against the far wall, then turned to face her. “You don’t have a clue what you’ve done, do you?” Idle comments around the campfire had not gone unheeded. The men were fully aware that back in the forest after the battle, it had been Whisper who had saved the day, not Aidan. He’d broken the deadlock, realising that winning the argument was less important than persuading the women to stay, while Aidan had still been stewing in his own anger.

  “What the hell do you mean?” Dusk demanded.

  “These men, this entire village, have been waiting for years in the hope that one day they’ll have wives, children, families… A fucking future! A reason for getting out of bed in the morning greater than the thought of a beer at the end of the day. Every single one of them is watching us, watching me, to see if I can make this work. I offered you the world, Dusk, everything I can lay claim to, and the first instant it was anything other than you, alone, starving to death in the wilderness, you leapt at the chance to get away!”

  “You offered us a choice between starving to death and being raped by default by our so-called husbands.”

  “Bullshit!” Aidan yelled back, the pair of them standing a foot away from each other, neither one backing down so much as an inch. “This is not civilisation, it is not a safe world, and I offered you the best that was in my power to offer.”

  “You treat us like livestock! Something to be owned, a prize to wave before your friends and tribesmen!”

  “For God’s sake, can’t you realise it’s not about you? The whole of western civilisation collapsed under the weight of its own greed and self-interest. I’m just trying to build a future that’s worth living in.”

  Dusk simply gaped at him for a moment, eyes wide, expression shell-shocked, and Aidan wondered whether he’d finally succeeded in making a point…

  When she spoke again, it was with far less volume, but no less determination, and the sudden change sent a cool shiver down his spine. He was on dangerous ground here. “Of course it’s about me,” Dusk told him, with quiet, cold intensity. “This is my body. My life. My future.” Her voice cracked, but even then, she didn’t back down. “This is all I’ve got.”

  She was right. It was personal. His throat feeling suddenly tight, Aidan asked, “Am I really such a poor choice that you’d run naked into the wilderness to get away from me?”

  How could they be arguing the same point, and yet be on such completely different pages? With a sigh and a muttered curse, Dusk sank down onto the bench in front of the fireplace, staring at the cold ash. “I wasn’t trying to get away from you,” she admitted finally, not looking his way. “I just couldn’t let one more woman wander off into the world alone.”

  Whisper set Julia down on the makeshift pile of blankets that would be her bed for the night. Longer term, they could build some proper beds and install an extra wall in the cabin to make a small room at the end where the children could sleep, but for the moment, a pad on the floor would do. Julia was already fast asleep and didn’t even stir as he pulled a sheet up over her.

  Willow put Mikey down beside Julia. He was blinking sleepily, but had insisted he didn’t want to go to bed until the party was over. Thankfully, after two rescue missions in forty-eight hours, most of the men were feeling weary, so the festivities had wound down a lot sooner than might otherwise have been the case.

  “Goodnight, Mikey,” Willow said, tugging the sheet over him and kissing his forehead. “Sleep tight.”

  “G’night, Mummy.” The words were slurred with tiredness. But then, before they could get too comfortable about both children being settled for the night, he suddenly asked, “Where are we going to go tomorrow?”

  Willow glanced at Whisper, a sudden fear in her eyes. They’d been on the move for a while, he’d learned that afternoon, and for all the tribe’s promises of a safe place to live and a stable future, it would take some time before their actions could prove the validity of the
ir words. “We’re not going anywhere tomorrow,” Willow told Mikey, and Whisper could tell from the waver in her voice that she didn’t quite believe it. “This is our home now. We’re going to stay here for a long time. And Whisper’s going to be your new Daddy,” she reminded him, not sure if the news had really sunk in yet. “Do you remember, I told you that one day, we’d find a good and kind man, and he’d look after us, and nobody would hurt us again?” Mikey nodded solemnly. “Well, Whisper is that man. He’s going to teach you new things, and make sure we always have enough food and clothes.”

  “And kill the bad men?” Such violence, from the mouths of children.

  “Yes, and kill the bad men,” Willow agreed quietly.

  Mikey turned to look at Whisper, and he braced himself for awkward questions or attempts to extract promises from him that he wasn’t sure he could live up to… but instead, Mikey just held out his arms, asking for a goodnight hug.

  The simple gesture shook Whisper to his core. He knelt down and wrapped his arms around the fragile little body. “Goodnight Mikey,” he murmured, shocked that someone who’d seen so much trauma at such a young age could possibly trust a man like him so easily. His gaze crept sideways to reassess Willow. He had no idea how she’d been raising the children so far, but she seemed to have done a bloody good job of it…

  “G’night Whisper,” Mikey said, letting go and lying back on the blankets.

  Late this afternoon, after he’d heard he was to be receiving a wife, Whisper had strung up a blanket across the room as a simple curtain, and he drew it over now, blocking out the light from the candles to let the children sleep.

  Willow followed him across the room, and Whisper went about his nightly routine, checking there was water in the canteen beside the bed, double-checking he’d barred the door, unstrapping the knife from his ankle and setting it beneath his pillow. Even in the middle of his own village, surrounded by his own tribesmen, he always slept with a weapon close by. Life had been a harsh teacher, and he’d learned his lessons well.