by S. R. Cronin
Davor appeared to struggle with an idea as it crossed his mind.
“You know, I probably ought to bring him along to this conversation with your sister so he doesn’t get his royal feelings hurt. Better warn Ryalgar a prince could be there; I don’t want her flustered. Your family reflects on me now, and I can’t have her making a fool of herself.”
I swallowed hard. This was certainly getting complicated.
“I’ll let her know. We’ll make arrangements to travel to Pilk in a few days. Uh ….”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have room for you at my house, but I’ll make arrangements for a nice place where the two of you can stay. The three of you, rather. Bring my little man along, of course. I can’t wait to show him off.”
Davor looked hard at the baby, as he tried to figure out how to say goodbye to him.
“Would you like to hold him for a minute?”
“Heli no. I don’t want to drop him. Maybe when he’s older.”
With that, I bundled Votto back into his carrier and walked to my donkey. In my head I prepared to give my sister the alarming news that in a few days she’d need to defend her budding plans to save our realm to both her secret lover and my grumpy estranged husband who happened to hate him.
Ryalgar took the news pretty well. She’d always been a pragmatic girl; maybe she realized we didn’t have a better choice. I admit I didn’t tell her everything; Davor’s disdain for Nevik felt too hurtful to share.
As we headed to Pilk Central together, I again struggled to nurse an infant while riding. I wondered if she had any idea how physically difficult this was for me. When we got to the inn Votto became uncharacteristically fussy and I decided he was wise beyond his years. I needed a break from Ryalgar and so did he.
“The tavern’s right down the street. I’ll catch up with you, once I get him to sleep,” I said. When she didn’t respond, I added, “Go ahead. Go without me.”
“You bet your sweet arse I won’t.” I couldn’t believe her response, but this was no time for us to have words with each other. I swallowed my outrage at her rudeness and said nothing.
“Nice try, though,” I muttered to Votto as I swaddled him in a fresh diaper and bundled him tight against me. By the time we walked to the tavern, he’d fallen asleep.
Ryalgar explained how her evolving plans to help Ilari depended upon the Svadlu abandoning the eastern nichnas, so she could deliver a greatly diminished foe to the doorstep of Pilk. Davor wasn’t eager to admit she or anyone else could help the mighty Svadlu, but he understood a good arrangement when he heard it. Agreeing to Ryalgar’s plans would reduce his liability and make his life easier. No one had ever called him stupid.
“This could be something we’d allow you to do,” he conceded. “The Svadlu can explain how the abandonment of the outer nichnas is the best military plan for all, and everyone will be grateful to us when it ends well.”
Yes, he’d claim the victory if she was successful. He’d also probably lambast her for her lies if she wasn’t. Both made me defensive for the sister I’d been so annoyed with a short while ago.
Ryalgar opened her mount to reply to him when the guard at the door shocked us all by yelling “The Mongols are here! The invasion has started!”
I thought for a second I’d dreamt it, but no, everyone around us began to panic. Ryalgar shooed the two men out of the room to handle their responsibilities. Then she grabbed my hand and pulled me through the tavern. We passed those hiding under the tables and made our way out to the street filled with frightened people.
Some Ilarians yelled for help, others pleaded for safety. A few looted newly-abandoned merchants’ stands. The only thing missing from the chaotic scene was an actual Mongol.
“Where are they?” I asked.
“In Pilk center,” a man said. “They’re outside the offices of the Ruling Prince of Pilk.”
I looked at Ryalgar, and she nodded in agreement as we headed towards the center of the town.
We never saw a Mongol, but we heard how a small delegation paid our realm a visit to demand tribute, insisting we provide it on the coming Kolada. After listening to several versions of the story, she and I returned to our room, waiting for Davor and Nevik to contact us.
They didn’t that night, but the next morning Nevik came by to tell us the Royals and Svadlu had met the previous evening and agreed to our proposal. The official defense of Ilari would begin at the border of Pilk. They’d do their best to move the affected citizens to safety before the attack, leaving us free to use all of the outer nichnas to stage whatever shenanigans we wanted.
It made me sad Davor hadn’t bothered to come with Nevik to share this news and to say farewell to his son. The pain grew sharper when I noticed Ryalgar and Nevik making eyes at each other, and casting hopeful glances my way.
Sure, I could take the baby out for some air and go for a walk. Sure, I could take my time.
At our final experiment with the horses, my dad had said my parents hoped to go to Pilk for the Noruz celebration to visit with Iolite and Gypsum, who were in school nearby. Ryalgar and I had planned to surprise them after our meeting with Davor and Nevik, as she knew the inn where they usually stayed. With the appearance of the Mongol envoys, it hadn’t happened.
So after I left to give Ryalgar and Nevik time alone, I decided to find my parents. I got directions to the inn but early revelers already filled the larger streets while discarded food and trash made the narrower ones too stench-filled to handle. By the time I finally got there, my feet hurt. Then, when I asked about my family’s whereabouts, an unhelpful proprietor told me he was too busy with the Noruz crowds to pay attention to the comings and goings of his guests.
After my long and uncomfortable walk, I saw no harm in coercing this man into doing his job. So I tried again.
“I’m just a daughter, seeking news of my family’s safety in these trying times. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to? Help? Me?”
Upon reconsideration, he decided he wished to help. It turned out I’d just missed three of them. Gypsum hadn’t been there, but an older couple had left to take a daughter, an ill one, back to her school. “The ill one” had to be a reference to Iolite, who had a disease that turned her hair silver. Polite folks seldom referred to her condition by name, so I assumed he was being coy.
“You mean my sister, the frundle?” I said.
His eyes widened and he pursed his lips. “You said it, I didn’t.” What a childish response.
“Did they all seem well when they left?” I asked.
“Yes, I suppose. Perhaps a little distraught, but who isn’t these days?”
I don’t know why, but the proprietor’s impoliteness, combined with not getting to see my family, put me further into a bad mood. I hated having to use my timbre for something as basic as getting information on my parents. Did my promise to use my gift wisely hold when I was dealing with an unhelpful idiot?
On the way back, Votto began to fuss. I stepped into an alley to feed him. My back hurt as I leaned against a stone wall and tried to ignore the impromptu outhouse the end of the alley had become. By the time I got back to my inn, my head hurt more than my back or feet.
Ryalgar and Nevik, however, couldn’t have been more cheerful.
“Last night Davor asked me to see the two of you, and the baby, out of Pilk,” Nevik told me. “He assumes you’ll go back to Vinx now that the danger is past, and you’ll resume teaching.”
So, I was being told to return to my old life. Just like that.
Nevik fumbled with something in his pocket. “He, uh, he also asked me to tell you he sends his love, along with this small gift.”
He handed me a leather pouch and I pulled a pretty necklace out of it. I knew Davor hadn’t bought such a thing for me.
“He said to tell you he’ll visit you at your home as soon as he can.”
I looked at him, the necklace dangling in my hand, and the same irrational anger I’d felt at the proprietor surfaced. I was tired of people not te
lling me the full truth.
“Is he still with the woman from Tolo, or has he moved on?”
Yes, my voice encouraged Nevik to be honest with me.
He sighed and looked unhappy, but he answered.
“I didn’t realize you knew those details. Yes, she lives with him, but he’s been telling me he grows tired of her. I suspect he’s found her replacement; she just doesn’t know it yet.”
“That’s oddly comforting.” I had to laugh for the first time that morning. “Maybe she and I can start a club for women Davor has loved. I wonder how many members we’d have?”
“I’ll ride with you ladies as far as the Gruen wall,” Nevik said in reply. He and Ryalgar both looked uncomfortable as we left.
Chapter 12. My New Life
People always love the time between Noruz and Keva. Birdsong returns. The weather grows mild. The first flowers appear.
But in the Year of Extreme Distress, spring did more than fill us with hope. It served as a pause, a precious respite during which we enjoyed feeling normal as we complained about the little irritations of life and ignored the massive problems looming in the distance.
I felt fully alive again, now that I lived out on the open plains of Vinx where I could feel the wind blow and see the sun rise and set. I knew something inside me had held on to this land, keeping me from wanting to be a wife in Lev. Maybe I’d never be content living anywhere but Vinx.
The school hadn’t expected me back until Keva, but they hadn’t replaced me. My little ones suffered, crowded in with the more boisterous and advanced nine and ten-year-olds. The woman who ran the school liked the idea of my working a short shift in the morning and one again in the afternoon to give the youngest ones extra time and attention. The most responsible older girls would be allowed to take turns watching my baby while I taught.
Meanwhile, I’d become something of a celebrity. Sakina invited me to her parents' home for dinner so I could tell of my adventures. The other teachers and older students wanted to know about the home of the mysterious Velka and what it had been like living with them. Everyone held little Votto and cooed at him. Several older girls and three teachers confided in me that they loved seeing a woman allowed to teach after giving birth.
Not everyone agreed, though. Three of the teachers and several of the older students seemed disturbed by this exception to the rules. I guessed they felt I somehow threatened the grand order of things.
The parents of those I taught split along similar lines. Some went out of their way to tell me how glad they were to see me back. Others, including a few new mothers, barely spoke to me when they picked their children up. I felt certain my return to the school had been the topic of more than one heated discussion.
Other facets of my personal life must have entered into those conversations, too, because another change occurred. Before Votto’s birth, the men of Vinx treated me with the proper respect given a married woman. Polite but never too personal. After my return, the men were friendlier. Sometimes, much friendlier. I had several offers to chop wood or make repairs around my home and a few went so far as to offer to be of service in any way at all. The inevitable you-know-what-I-mean look followed.
It made me uncomfortable. I was still married, even if I wasn’t living with my husband. He served in the army during a time of turmoil and men in Vinx would normally have respected such a situation. It made me think the rumors went beyond “he doesn’t live with her” and all the way to “he’s cheating on her and everyone knows it, including her.”
Most of these overly helpful men were married and even if their marriages weren’t happy, I respected their matrimonial bonds and could ill afford to have their wives think otherwise. So I turned down every offer of masculine assistance with a polite but firm “no, thank you.” If that didn’t suffice I added, “My husband will be home soon and take care of all those things for me.”
Although Votto slept well and fussed little, the combination of caring for him, my house, myself, and a bunch of lively seven and eight-year-olds twice a day wore me out. It would have been so easy to get both adults and children to cooperate with me and be done with it. But Ewalina had cautioned me against using my luski timbre to solve the minor problems of everyday life.
“On some level, people realize when they’ve been coerced. They don’t like it, and if it happens often they won’t like you, even if they don’t fully understand why.” She’d shrugged. “People aren’t as foolish as they seem. All evidence to the contrary.”
I’d ignored her warning while in Pilk but reconsidered my behavior at home. I knew I already walked a thin line, being allowed to work part-time and use older students for child care. Being allowed to work at all. Living alone as a married woman. I did not need the nice people of Vinx looking for reasons to dislike me. In fact, I needed them to be looking for reasons to like me more, particularly as rumors of my having a frightening power might start circulating once people at Ryalgar’s practices noticed the bright orange hair under my scarf.
I resolved to keep even the slightest traces of the timbre out of my voice.
As the days grew warmer, the luskies and singers made plans to resume their practices despite the fear of injuries. We’d been lucky the first two times. Our thrown riders suffered no worse than bruises and a sprained wrist. The straw helped, of course, as did the skill of the farmhands. But we could ill afford to injure healthy young people by throwing them from horses. Could the animals throw off bags of sand instead?
I needed to confer with Celestine. Where was she these days?
Both twins had finished school and lived at home, and neither had a husband waiting in the wings. Olivine spent at least half her time in the artsy nichna of K’ba, painting and selling her artwork. Celestine split her time between K’ba, where she sang and performed with her psaltery, and Pilk, where many of the realm’s better musicians made their home.
My parents realized my marriage with Davor would never last, and that Ryalgar was a Velka for life. Sulphur, who’d never had much in the way of boyfriends, would likely spend years in the Svadlu without marrying. As for the youngest two, everyone knew a frundle couldn’t produce children, making it unlikely poor Iolite would ever have a husband. And Gypsum? Who knew what a rebel like her would do.
So, Mom must have pinned her hopes on the artistically talented Olivine and on the beautiful musician Celestine. How unfortunate. If I had to place a bet, it’d be that Olivine had an artist lover in K’ba and Celestine had a musician boyfriend in Pilk, and neither qualified as a prince.
I decided to take Votto to see his grandparents. He was nearly two-eights of a year old and now he squirmed when I swaddled him close to me during a ride. He was a curious little guy, and he wanted to see the world. He also got heavier every day. I tried to adjust the contraption the Velka had made for me so he’d have more freedom to move and look around.
Mom saw me in the distance and yelled and waved. By the time I tethered Nutmeg, she had food and drinks ready. She took a fussy Votto from me and began to rock him. To my surprise, he quieted for her. I’d always known my mother didn’t share the common female fondness for babies, but she made an exception for this little one.
My dad came in from the fields early, having seen me ride up, and we spent a pleasant evening together enjoying a spring sunset and sharing a meal of my mother’s much-loved chicken pie. I learned they didn’t expect Celestine or Olivine back for days. So over the rest of the ank break I napped, bathed, and cared for myself in ways I never could at home alone with a baby.
I dawdled as I packed to leave and a late afternoon spring storm blew in with a howling wind. The lightning and thunder scared Votto. I soothed his tears but couldn’t imagine me and him riding Nutmeg home in such a squall.
“Stay with us through the next ank,” my dad said. “I’ll ride over to the school tomorrow before classes start, and let them know you and the child need a rest and you’ll be back next ank. Your kids will be fine in the big class
for six days.”
He seemed so happy about having me and Votto around that I couldn’t say no. So I didn’t. Besides, staying for another ank made it certain I’d be able to confer with Celestine on our upcoming practices.
Over the next few days, I picked up in conversation that Ryalgar had agreed to help my father with something neither of my parents wanted to discuss with me.
When I asked my dad he said “Please don’t try to guess. Just drop it. For me.”
I agreed but I couldn’t stop worrying.
Olivine was back at the farm by then, but she was preoccupied with her trainees and didn’t want to speculate on where Ryalgar had gone.
“She sent word to me to hold the practice without her or Joli; I have no idea why Mom or Dad would know or care.”
I moved on to my last resort. Mom.
“Coral. Why do you have to stick your nose into everything?”
“I don’t. Stick my nose into everything. I just stick it into things involving the people I care about.”
I noticed being a luski had enhanced my ability to stand up to my mom and I knew she didn’t like the shifting balance of power between us.
“Has it ever occurred to you that you care about too many things?” she asked.
“I care about people, not things. And no, it has never occurred to me that I care about too many people.”
I could tell I pushed her. Her face got that look, the one she’d had back when she slapped me for asking what a pruska was.
“Why won’t you and Dad tell me where my sister is?” I wouldn’t use my timbre on her, but I also wouldn’t back down. “I care about Ryalgar. Where is she?”
“With the reczavy.” My mother spat it out at me, almost like a slap.
Her answer made no sense. The reczavy were avant-garde people living on the fringes of society. They engaged in controversial sex. The more conservative in Ilaria condemned them as an unfortunate consequence of the promiscuity we permitted the tidzys around the holidays.
