The Scavenger in me wanted to search through the crates for anything useful. The pit forming in my stomach caused me to hesitate.
Please forgive me.
We were going to leave, and if there were items we could use, I would claim them.
I am who I always have been—a Scavenger.
Sheets draped several items around the room. Furniture didn’t require sheets; people did. I unveiled cabinets, dressers, serving carts, and obscure pieces of art. None of it worth taking other than the balled-up linens under my arm. Most of what I found belonged to children—puppet theaters and several rocking horses of increasing size.
Beside the children’s items rested a polished chest, with a knitted corner of fabric pinched under its lid. I moved the stacked books and rolled drawings off the top and lifted it open. Inside, I found metal infant shoes, a bundle of congratulatory cards tied with ribbon, and not one but two small blankets. I pulled one from the chest and spread it out over my lap. Whoever made it did beautiful work. Made of mostly cream-colored yarn, the blanket had a repeated design of scalloped lines and loose weaves unlike anything I’d ever seen. Sure, I could knit scarves, gloves, and socks, but I never made anything as lovely as this blanket.
Is this how Citizens prepare for birth?
Perhaps I should be making a blanket for my child.
A herd of children trampled on the floor above my head, obviously stopped by a yelling adult.
Yeah, that’s not going to happen.
I set the blanket aside and continued picking through the chest. Of all the toys I saw, the fist-sized carved wooden animals were my favorite. We never had toys of such craftsmanship. I lined them up on the floor: horse, cow, lamb, ox, cat, pig, and wolf. Like the blanket, whoever crafted them had perfected the art of carving. If I didn’t doubt their existence, I would swear the figures were made by the gods themselves.
Cards, crafts, tiny shoes…children didn’t need any of these things. A blanket, sure, but not one suitable for a single purpose to end in a storage box. My swaddling blanket was used for a dress, or so my mother told me. Eventually it was cut into kitchen rags, tie-strips, and patches for later clothing, but my parents would never waste space to keep it for years to look at every now and again.
Ergh. I don’t even have a blanket.
For a moment, I considered taking the one I found, but I wrapped the figurines up in it and put it back where it came from.
As long as I have an extra shirt, this baby will have all it needs.
It’s not like I didn’t have bigger issues to deal with than farm animals made from trees. As I closed the chest, a twinge of regret hit my conscience for looting the treasured belongings of a dead or displaced family. In all honesty, the few things I found would not be useful for anything other than kindling.
You can’t eat a wooden pig.
My guilt nipping at me no more, I dropped the linens atop the baskets to free my hands to rush through a few of the remaining crates. My efforts turned up more toys. Wooden blocks, dolls, glass figurines, and more farm animals of various breeds filled each one. It seemed like every crate I opened stored worthless items. Nothing found could be used for survival or defense.
Unless you threw them at someone.
I weighed a large polished granite marble in my hand before dropping it back in its place. After that, I gave up. Apparently when Citizens tired of things, they didn’t toss them out, they gave them their own room—the biggest in the house.
Jeorge met me as I made my way up the stairs, not that I could see him over the mound of drapes I carried. “Did you have trouble finding baskets?”
“No, they’re under the sheets.”
“Oh, let me, then.” He tumbled the wad from in front of my face.
I followed him into the next room. “I saw a sewing machine down there. I’d like to bring that with us if you think we can move it.”
He dropped his load on the kitchen table. “It shouldn’t be a problem, my Lady. Do you sew?”
“Not with a machine. We always did things by hand.”
“Did you want the fabric too?” he asked, pulling a drape from the pile and folding it nicely.
I sat. My feet needed a break. “There is fabric?” I reached to pour a cup of tea.
“Oh, yes. It’s how I repaired the children’s clothing. There are several bolts in the corner. Didn’t you see them?”
“No, I guess not.” I sipped from my cup.
Jeorge broke from his folding, assembled a small plate of dried fruit and nuts, and slid it on the table in front of me. “You should eat. It may be a long trip.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”
“I’ll wait here for Lord Calish. If he is away for more than a moon cycle, I’ll find my way to you.” He returned to his folding. “Would you like to take the livestock?”
“The livestock? What livestock?”
“There’s a community barn at the other side of the neighborhood. This house has a number of chickens, goats, and rabbits. Did you wish to take them with you?”
“I had no idea!”
“Where did you think all the eggs and milk came from?”
“I guess I didn’t think about it.”
“And you said you’re not a lady.”
“Jeorge, did you just make a joke at my expense?”
He winked. “Never, my Lady.”
* * *
With the children as ready as they could be, I waited on the porch for Calish to return. I kicked my sandals off and wiggled my swollen toes freely. The warmth of the sun felt good on my skin, and getting my ever-shrinking shoes off felt even better. I propped my heels up on a flowerpot, and for a moment, I did nothing at all. The cool day brought people out of their homes, but I had made enough of them uncomfortable that none of them came to visit me. Rolling my sleeves down to protect my tender wounds, I watched the nurse leave a neighboring house a few doors down. Busy fastening her bag closed, she didn’t see me.
Maybe she has some extra supplies she’ll be willing to part with. Children are always getting hurt, so a few basic items would be nice to have on hand if a situation presents itself.
I shoved my swollen feet back into my sandals as fast as I could manage. I followed her across the street and chased after her without looking like there was an emergency. When I thought I was in earshot, I called for her.
“Nurse? Excuse me, nurse?”
She turned around casually, freezing in place when she saw me. “Yes, my Lady.” She bowed deeply.
“I’m sorry to disturb you—”
“Forgive me,” she begged, “I should have checked in on you and the children.” Her chin trembled.
I tilted my head and rested my hands on my stomach. “Why are you so apologetic? You did a great job for me and the others. We’ve got along wonderfully because of your expertise.”
“I’m honored you’ve been pleased with my care, my Lady.”
“Please, call me Una.”
She clutched her bag to her chest. Her eyes darted in all directions.
“Why are you so anxious? Is it the burn?”
Her eyes widened as she shook her head eagerly.
“I don’t mean you any harm. I actually owe you a great deal for what you did for me and my family.”
“You’re too kind.” She forced a smile, still avoiding looking at me directly.
“You see? This is why I didn’t want anyone to treat me,” I hissed. “I knew the mark was bad, but geez, I didn’t expect this.”
She bowed again. “I’m sorry, my Lady.”
“For the sake of the gods, will you stop?”
Her face became more fearful.
“I wondered if you might be able to provide me with some basic items. I’m looking for simple things, bandages, ointment, things like that.”
“You can have all I possess.” She thrust her bag in my direction.
“No.” I pushed it away. “I only want to take what excess you may have to
give away freely, as in without force.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Extra stuff?” I shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what. I don’t want to take what you need to keep doing your job, but if you have a surplus of items you wouldn’t notice were missing—”
A tear ran down her cheek.
I turned away from her, frustrated. “Oh, never mind.”
“Please, my Lady!” she called after me. “You can have whatever you want!”
“I said forget it!” I glanced over my shoulder. “I sure hope you haven’t told anyone what you saw.”
“No, my Lady, I would never talk about you behind your back.”
“Good, because I couldn’t take everyone around me behaving like this,” I mumbled, walking away.
Just then, Calish rode past me on the wagon. He read the situation and called out, “Everything all right?”
I gave him an uncomfortable smile and a shrug—enough to keep him from stopping. He waited for me in front of our house, still curious about my conversation with the nurse.
“What’s the problem?”
“I think she thought I planned on burning her alive right there in the middle of the street,” I said theatrically. “I asked if she had any extra supplies, but she acted like I was trying to kill her.”
“I told you, that mark is powerful. Get used to people treating you that way,” he said, pulling the canvas cover off the rear of the wagon.
“Well, hopefully no one else will find out about it.”
Calish laughed under his breath.
“What’s so funny?”
“You can’t be serious,” he replied.
“I told her not to tell anyone.”
“Oh, right, that changes everything.” He shook his head. “Come on, Una, you’re not that dumb, are you?”
“I guess I am. But I prefer to call it trusting,” I said, helping him fold the wagon’s cover.
He might be right, though.
Calish finished folding the cover and placed it in the wagon.
“I’ll go tell Marsh you’re back.”
“I’ll wait out here.” He smiled. “Una?” he called.
I turned to him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
I took a deep breath before I answered. “After what just happened with the nurse? I certainly can’t stay here.”
* * *
The children carried their bedding and anything else Marsh handed them, and our guard packed it in tightly. Marsh and Calish brought out the sewing machine, while Jeorge and a few child volunteers hauled out the bolts of fabric. Finally, the children piled in, and Marsh set the baskets of provisions on their laps since there was little room left. We decided to come back for the livestock at a later time once we built a decent place to secure them at the property.
I sat next to Graken on the wagon, while Marsh and Calish mounted the horses readied for our trip.
“Are we all ready?” Calish asked, his horse dancing beside the wagon. With no objection from anyone, he gave the order, and we were off.
Graken snapped the reins, and the horses jolted the wagon forward. The guards stationed at the entrance pulled the gates open. I overheard them question each other if they knew where we were going or what we had hidden under the cover, but no one inquired about the children.
I offered no expression as we passed them. If they wanted to know, they could have asked. I would have told them. They didn’t.
Let them assume.
The only thing I concerned myself with was the safety of the people behind me. One, two, three—I counted them—thirteen, fourteen.
Everyone is accounted for.
Now, if I only knew all their names.
That would come in time.
I faced forward as Calish led us to the main road and turned onto it. “If trouble finds us, don’t leave this wagon,” Graken warned me. “And if things look bleak, just lift your sleeve and show them your mark.”
“What will happen if I do?”
“The people will scurry like mice.”
“You speak from experience?”
“I’ve seen it before,” he admitted. “It’s a bad idea for you to leave the neighborhood.”
“Thank you for your concern, but it’s not necessary,” I said, eyeing the shanty town in the distance.
“It is necessary,” he snapped. “It’s my job.”
I squinted in the sun. “I guess you’ve got a point, Graken. I stand corrected.”
For a while, we traveled in silence. I didn’t want any more confrontation, especially with Graken. I’d argued enough in the last two days to carry me through the next two seasons. Besides, the lack of conversation allowed me to take in the scenes along the way.
The village still looked—and smelled—horrible. The worst came from a pit of burning bodies. The stench permeated the air, a combination of burning meat, hair, and disease casting a black plume of smoke across the land. My eyes followed the vapor’s trail to a structure being built where the river met the edge of the landslide.
“What’s that over there?”
“That’s the new Temple,” Graken said. “The men have been working on it nonstop for several cycles now.”
“They work at night?”
“By the light of lanterns.”
“And during the heat of the day?”
He groaned. “Do you know what the term nonstop means?”
I scowled at him, but he didn’t notice. “Who is building it?”
“Volunteers.”
I scoffed.
“Is there a problem, my Lady?”
“Well, I was wondering, are they volunteers like at the prison or the Festival, or are they people who really wish to help?”
“Perhaps I should assign you a tutor.”
“For what?”
“To teach you the meaning of words like nonstop and volunteer.”
We passed a group of men carrying rocks along the side of the road. Tied together in groups of three, each had a slipknot around their neck. If they fell out of line, their ropes would tighten. Their hands were somewhat free but bound to a belt around their waist to prevent them from reaching above their chest. If the rope around their neck tightened, there would be nothing they could do about it on their own.
“Those aren’t volunteers, Graken. They’re prisoners.”
“That’s what it may look like at first glance, but they’ve committed themselves to rebuild the Temple. What’s the problem?”
“They’re clearly not volunteers. If they’re exercising free will, why are they bound in a way that prevents them from leaving?”
“The High Priest put out a call for all who wanted to serve the gods in this way. These are a few of the hundreds who responded,” Graken stressed as he steered the horses onto the road leading up the hill.
“They all offered themselves? None of them were coerced?”
“I guess the High Priest is quite respected as he always has been. He asks. People respond. I’m sure everyone has their own reason why.”
I didn’t bother replying to his argument. There is no possible way that many people volunteered to do physical labor in this heat. People acting of their own accord didn’t have to be bound. The High Priest charmed them, and no one but a few people were aware of it.
How convenient.
If Noran had done a decent job of brainwashing them, he wouldn’t need the ropes at all. Nik called Noran a powerful Charmer, but what if he wasn’t? What if some people were more susceptible to his gift than others? I wasn’t sure what that would say about me, but looking at all these men bound by their neck, I doubted they were all simpleminded and easy to conquer. Not long-term. Would the men try to escape once they came to their wits? Why didn’t Noran re-charm them or simply replace them?
No man should live as a slave but unto his own ambitions.
The others we passed weren’t Woodsmen or Authority, nor were they volunteer-temple-building-slaves. Tho
ugh alone and hungry, they were the true survivors. Thousands upon thousands uncompromised by the powers that be and, because of their conditions, utterly unorganized. Because of that, they were powerless and easy to ignore. They outnumbered the Authority, the Woodsmen, and the Resistance, twenty to one! But they were weak and unmotivated. They waited for a hero, someone to clap their hands and make everything just as it was. No one could do anything close to that. Citizens were accustomed to everything being done for them. Find a man to follow, and I bet they would.
That’s what Reinick wants Calish for.
With so much uncertainty between the hope of the road and the dangers of the shaded woods, Reinick wanted to assign them a rescuer. One he thought he could control. In the meantime, decisions continued to be made on the Citizens’ behalf. Decisions that considered their needs last, if they were considered at all.
Only two groups of power had emerged publicly in the aftermath of the devastation. While I’d like to think the Resistance had a presence, they didn’t. Nik and his men were holding back until the time was right to be known. They were nearly invisible.
No, the Citizens only knew of the two groups focused on claiming dominance over the other. The daily conflict between the Authority and the Woodsmen turned people into pawns. Somehow the old ways of law and government were still loosely honored, although I was sure it was only out of habit. The people’s satisfaction with the leadership hit an all-time low and dwindled with every sunrise.
The smallest thing could start a revolt if only the people organized. The Authority could topple if the Citizens learned of the Governor’s assassination.
And if they found out the Woodsmen were responsible…
What would happen then? Would the Authority continue to enforce the laws? Would guards do as their officers commanded? Losing the Governor could be the final blow to a struggling empire that stood strong for generations.
That’s their goal. Annihilate the Authority.
If they took control, the Citizens would hand whatever Authority men remained over to their adversaries out of pure spite. The Authority had no way to prevent an uprising. Without a prison to confine traitors, they’d have to execute suspects rather than holding them.
Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia Page 30
