Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia

by Jennifer Arntson

  Graken returned after sunset, and the children settled down for the night. A beaten, bruised, and exhausted Marsh recited the most animated version of our favorite childhood story I’d ever seen. He had me laughing so hard at his rendition of the characters I could barely focus on laying out the children’s bedding. Eventually, the story ended, and the children, some full of spirit, others half asleep, found a place to call their own for the night. Between Marsh, Calish, and I, each child had an adult who tucked them in and wished their sleep be filled with pleasant dreams.

  Marsh retired to his room, Calish took the moment to converse with Graken, and I stood at the landing at the top of the stairs to watch the children from above.

  The little girl who didn’t talk saw me leaning against the railing of the second floor. I blew her a kiss and waved using just the tips of my fingers. That was the first time I saw her smile. It was subtle; still, I saw her lips curl ever so slightly. She moved her hand to the edge of the blankets. With the two fingers escaping her covers, she waved back. Her tiny gesture warmed my heart.

  “Good night, everyone,” I said softly.

  “Good night, Mother Una,” they said in broken unison.

  The little girl said nothing as she turned to her side and closed her eyes. Her burned arm reached over her head in a yawn, finding residence over the subtle blue and purple crib-sized quilt.

  As I headed for the master bedroom, Marsh stopped me. “Try not to worry, little sister.”

  “About what, specifically?” I leaned against his door’s frame.

  “He still loves you.”

  I pushed myself away from his room and continued toward mine. “Good night, Marsh.”

  Jeorge did a fine job airing out the house tonight. He opened every one of the upstairs windows so the evening breeze could chase out the thick air of the afternoon. In the dresser of the master suite, I found a nightshirt without sleeves and took it into the washroom to change. Without a lantern lit, the room existed in subdued shades of gray and black. The darkness brought a strange comfort. I knew the room’s layout, and the moons did a decent job providing a glow to see what I needed.

  I sat on the tufted stool in front of the vanity. The nurse left an extra salve for the burns, and while I remembered to tend to the children’s wounds, I hadn’t taken the opportunity to treat mine. I removed my shirt, making myself naked before the mirror. The woman in the glass looked overwhelmed by fatigue yet beautifully round. And then there were the dressings and the weight of their presence.

  Careful not to remove them too quickly, I breathed a sigh of relief that the wounds hadn’t dried to the wrappings. Apparently, the salve she used didn’t only help with healing and discomfort, they also kept the area lubricated so the bandages wouldn’t stick. If she ever came near me again, I’d have to extend her my appreciation for treating me against my will.

  The evidence of my meeting with Kash was still raised and red across most of my arm. When I studied them directly, I noticed scabs forming at the margins where the iron scantily touched my flesh. I couldn’t make out Kash’s signature before, but after two days, its edges and curves tightened into an intricate letter K. Around the border, undefined embellishments danced with less intensity but created a blackened leather around the fluid-filled centerpiece. The image would sharpen with additional healing, and after the scabs sloughed away, my curiosity would be satisfied. Without the benefit of a healer, I would be committed to caring for the unwanted mark forced upon my body.

  The application of the medication would have been easier if I didn’t apply it myself. I anticipated each touch to be searing, and believe me, it exceeded expectation. Suddenly, I regretted not putting on the nightshirt before starting the process. Or perhaps I made up an excuse to postpone it. Dressing proved to be more difficult than disrobing, and I credited the bandages for the ease or lack thereof.

  I completed my task quickly so as not to prolong my discomfort, though I did grunt and hiss more than expected. When finished, I washed the sweat from my face and the excess salve from my hands. The water flowed from the faucet down the sink’s drain and over my hands with a few tears mingled in it. I stared into the basin long after I turned the water off, questioning every move leading me to that moment.

  A moment of solitude.

  Anu wasn’t even there.

  I dried my hands on the towel neatly folded on the counter, and after patting the water from my hands purposefully, I put it back just as I’d found it. I stared into my reflection at the soiled woman that was me. Pieces of my hair had jelled itself together, matted with the sweat and dirt of the previous days. As I rolled the roped mess between my fingers, the strands felt like the locks of a stranger. I certainly didn’t feel like myself.

  When I opened the door to the bedroom, Calish was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting. I didn’t expect him there. He stood as soon our eyes met. With the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his shirttails free, he appeared comfortable but nowhere near relaxed. His cufflinks lay on the end table, reflecting the moonlight like captured stars. If only they granted wishes the way real ones might.

  An awkward silence existed in the space between us. I had so much I wanted to say to him, but if I opened my mouth, I knew all the wrong words would spill out. The space we shared became so quiet the only thing to hear was our breathing. There once was a time when the hesitation could be easily let go with a simple look, but we lost our way.

  The glance he took at the bandages covering my arm reminded me how much things had changed between us. I quickly wiped a tear from my eye as the pain of my actions fell heavy on my heart. I forced a nervous smile and lowered my eyes as I shamefully walked to my side of the bed. Calish stepped in my path. He took hold of my right hand. I turned my chin away and closed my eyes. Nothing I’d done deserved such a delicate expression of encouragement. Gently, he caressed my unaffected arm until his hand slid across my shoulder and up the curve of my neck to cup my face. I pressed my cheek into the palm of his strong hand as his thumb swept across my lower lip and lifted my chin.

  He placed his lips against mine, and they trembled as he fought back the tears he’d been hiding from the world all day. His left hand rose to my face as his tears mixed with mine. I tasted them in his kiss, a salty confirmation of our desperate love for each other and the tragedy of losing what we’d only recently come to accept.

  “I don’t know how to fix this,” he confessed, his lips still touching mine. “I don’t know if I can.”

  I rested my head on his chest, and he did his best to hold me tightly against him. Oh, how it would have been easier if he’d just chastised me, yelled at me, or cursed me. But he didn’t. He did the one thing that hurt me the deepest: he loved me. His love and the anguish he suffered tortured me more than any iron would burn.

  I did this to him. To us.

  “I’m so sorry, Calish,” I whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  “No.” He sat on the edge of the bed and, with only our fingertips touching, drew me near him. “This is all my fault.”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “I left them there. It’s what you said to Graken, you did what I refused to do.” He hung his head. “I turned a blind eye. I’m no better than the guards at the prison. If I’d protected those children like I should have, you wouldn’t have had to.”

  “If you did, they would have killed you.”

  “They killed me when he marked you,” he said, staring at my hand in his.

  “Calish.” I sighed.

  “What?” He looked up at me.

  “You’re not dead. We’re both still here,” I reminded him. “Look at us. We’re still married, you’re still the Junior Lord of the Authority, and the children are free from the Woodsmen. Please try to see the good in this,” I begged.

  He kissed my hand. “I see the good in you.” He stood. “That alone makes me want to fight for you.”

  “Then fight.” I pressed my lips against his exposed chest, “Do
n’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.” I pulled the tail of his belt playfully, and he grabbed my hands.

  “We can’t. You’re forbidden.”

  A certain sorrow fell into the room for—both of us, I was sure. Our future didn’t turn out the way we saw it. But that’s the way it was, twisting and turning on itself for reasons we’d never know. The irony didn’t only apply to Scavengers but for all of us who survived to see the sunrise. There’s a feeling, as terrifying as it was hopeful, about what lay before us. Standing before Calish, the man I always loved, I feared if I didn’t take control of the moment, to not just tell him how I felt, but to show him, tomorrow may not grant me the chance. Irrational as it may sound, I needed to be reminded of the simple joy of what it meant to be the wife of a loving husband.

  To feel him and be one with him, in the way the gods created a man to be with a woman. My need was not a plea for forgiveness any more than it was the acceptance of one. We needed to connect emotionally, physically to realign our spirit, bodies, and mind. That is why the gift was intended for lovers and wasted on strangers. That is why having it stolen was so vile, and giving it away, at least for me, would have ended in regret.

  I loved him, and he loved me. What we shared was stronger than the power of the Authority, deeper than the influence of the Priesthood, and more carnal than the appetite of any Woodsman. It was more, so much more. It was the best fruit from the first vine of the heavens, bitter and sweet, satisfying and yet leaving the tongue wanting. And as our bodies intertwined—naked and desperate for release—we were reminded of all the things we fought for. We fought for us, and we fought for all those who lost their voice during the time when we found our own. Two hearts pressed together, beating in unison like dancers among the ribbons of Zoetica, were made more perfect by wandering hands and hungry lips.

  Calish’s strength and tenderness caused waves of pleasure to roll through me in ways that I didn’t know I’d forgotten. In the end, when we were both spent, the feelings that had boiled over earlier in the day simmered cool to the touch of night’s hand. Tangled in sheets too thin to notice, his finger traced unknown shapes from my neck to my belly, never once wandering to the tender peaks already well pleased.

  “I love you,” I confessed, wishing there were stronger words to use.

  “I know.” He tucked me closer, careful not to touch my healing arm. He felt my stomach and caressed it in a small circular motion before resting his hand on my hip.

  “I could be skinned alive for what we just did,” he confessed. “You’re not to be touched…” I felt his consciousness leave him as he crossed into sleep, the weight of his embrace confirming his transition from cuddle to careless slumber.

  Chapter 25

  I didn’t sleep well and was already awake when Graken banged on the bedroom door. “Calish! You need to come out here, now!”

  Calish leapt out of bed and put on his trousers, trying not to fall over while doing it. “What is it?” he shouted back as he fastened the button of his pants. He glanced back at me to make sure I was covered and opened the door to let his guard in.

  Graken saw me lying in bed and averted his gaze down the hall. “Reinick is here, sir.”

  Calish grabbed his shirt and thrust his arms into it. “Did you let him in?”

  “No, that’s why we can’t delay,” he said, stepping aside as Calish left the room and closed the door. As soon as it latched, I jumped out of bed and threw on my robe. Bursting into Marsh’s room, I told him to keep quiet as I opened his bedroom window to eavesdrop on the conversation below.

  “It’s just stuck, that’s all,” I heard Calish say.

  “Well, we should send out the maintenance person if your butler can’t fix it. You cannot continue to use the servants’ entrance to go in and out of your own house,” Reinick said harshly.

  Graken was smart to keep the door closed and our grandfather unaware of our many house guests. Most likely it was the guard’s idea to have Calish exit through the back door to avoid detection. Then again, maybe it was just easier than moving the chair away from the door.

  “I’ll see to it, Reinick,” he responded. “What is so important it couldn’t wait?”

  Marsh tiptoed toward the window, getting on his knees when I signaled for him to get lower. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, but Reinick is here awfully early,” I said quietly.

  “Graken, I need to talk to my grandson alone for a moment.”

  “Sir?” the guard asked.

  “It’s fine, Graken. You go back inside and check on Una. Tell her everything’s all right.”

  “Yes, sir.” His footsteps led off the porch to the side of the house.

  I kicked Marsh. “Go! Go get him!” I mouthed. He nodded and crawled away from the window. He used the doorjamb as a crutch to help himself up and closed the bedroom door without making a sound.

  “My gods, that dog is loyal and persistent as shit on my shoe,” Reinick complained.

  “He’s my personal guard, what do you expect?”

  “You know, I’ve had a lot more freedom since he’s been reassigned to you.” He led Calish off the porch and continued in a whisper, “I’ve just received a report. The Governor’s Quarters have been attacked.”

  “What? I thought nobody knew where he was.”

  “That’s what we thought, too,” Reinick said with forced sadness.

  “Is he alive?”

  I turned as Marsh led Graken into the room. Holding my finger to my lips, I reminded them to be quiet. Obviously, Marsh had already informed him we were listening in on their conversation, so Graken nodded his understanding. Together, they crouched next to me to listen.

  “I’m not sure yet, but based on the initial reports, it doesn’t look good.”

  “Oh, my gods.” Calish sighed. “Do we know who did it?”

  “Who do you think? It’s pretty obvious.”

  “The Woodsmen?”

  “Who else would it be?”

  A moment lapsed before Calish spoke. “What do we do now? Once the people find out, they’ll riot.”

  “I thought about that. There’s no doubt there’d be chaos without proper leadership. The truth is the Authority is hanging on by a thread. If the Woodsmen get the upper hand, everything we’ve worked for is gone, and for what? Do you want those savages to be the ruling class?” Reinick asked.

  His well-rehearsed speech might actually be believable if I thought for a moment he was concerned for anyone other than himself.

  “I’m going to need your help, my boy.” His words of endearment made me shudder. “We need to tell the people the Governor announced his retirement and he appointed me his successor. That way he can disappear, and rumors of his death can be just that, rumors.”

  “And if they display his body?”

  “Do you know what he looks like?” Reinick asked. “He’s not been a presence for many years. This will work, if you’ll stand with me.”

  “So, you’re the new Governor?” Calish said suspiciously.

  “It’s not like this was anything I wanted! But think of it for a moment. It’s for the greater good. Things will unravel if we don’t do this together.”

  “You said you need my help; what exactly are you asking me to do?”

  “The very thing you were born to do, my boy, lead the people as the new Lord of the Authority. They love you. It will give them hope and a hope for a more prosperous future.”

  “What about Hawk?”

  “What about him? He’s never here. In fact, he’s been undercover trying to make his way into that Resistance group for so long that to pull him out now would be foolish. We need to take down both groups, son. They each threaten the very foundation of our society. If we don’t get things under control soon, the gods may just leave us to the demons of Talium.”

  “Let me think about it. There’s got to be another solution, other options.”

  “This is no time for your opinions. We must act fa
st. If you walk away from me, away from this, and the people bow down to the Woodsmen, you and I will be lucky to live another day. It seems to me you have a lot of people depending on you at the moment. They need your protection now more than ever.”

  “I don’t know what you’re implying.”

  Reinick laughed, patting Calish on the back. “I’ll let you in on something; you’re not very good at hiding secrets. I’m well aware of your little orphanage in there.”

  Calish said nothing. I glanced at Marsh then at Graken. How did he know?

  “What do you say, Lord Calish? Are you ready to serve your people, or are you going to run and hide in the hills with your pregnant sister-wife and all those orphaned children?”

  Silence.

  “If what you say is true, then I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “That’s the spirit, my boy! People love a martyr! It’s a talent Hawk never mastered,” he congratulated Calish. “Now, go tell your blooming family the good news!”

  “I would hardly consider the Governor being murdered good news.”

  “Oh, quit being so depressing. It’s not like you ever met the man. He lived a long, long life. Nobody lives forever, Calish.”

  “I think I’m needed inside.”

  “I’m sure you are, my boy.”

  “Good day, Governor.”

  “Good day, Lord Calish,” Reinick replied.

  I stood with a little help from Marsh while Graken hurried downstairs to meet Calish at the back entrance. I adjusted my robe and met up with them in the dining room.

  “The study,” he whispered and pointed in its direction. We followed him quietly, trying not to disturb the sleeping children. Graken held the door open before shutting us in. Everyone but him sat. Instead, he checked all the windows and the door to make sure they were fully closed.

  “We heard everything,” I admitted to Calish as he leaned up against his desk.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Sir?” Graken shifted nervously.

  “Yes?”