She's the One Who Cares Too Much

by S. R. Cronin

  Most of the singers cheered and a few of the luskies did too, but most didn’t.

  Ewalina took a step back from me. “You’re finding a way to turn into the monster I promised you’d never become.”

  The man from Tolo added, “and you’ll turn the rest of us into freaks with you.”

  “No, I won’t; you’re just helping me put on a show. I need your theatrics. If we have to do this, I’ll be the only real monster in the group when this is over. I promise.”

  “Aren’t you afraid if you do something like this once, it’ll be easier to do it again?” I didn’t know the name of the luski who asked, but I’d already wondered the same thing.

  “Right now, I want Hana’s unfortunate ambitions behind us, so we can focus on defending Ilari. Ask me that question again, after Kolada.”

  No one said another word to me.

  I noticed Celestine standing near the back of the group. She must have shown up late, probably in the middle of the most impassioned part of my speech. Well, even if she’d only heard the last bit of it, my younger sister now knew the truth about me. I couldn’t imagine she’d ever look at me the same again.

  “Let’s go,” Ewalina said to the others. “We’ve got serious work to do.”

  We mounted our horses and rode as a group towards the farm in Gruen where we’d hold today’s practice. Ewalina took the lead. Whether she realized I needed to hang back and conserve my energy, or whether she did it to show her agreement with my plan, I don’t know. Either way, I appreciated it.

  Several luskies hung back with me, riding silently by my side like an escort. It seemed to be a gesture of respect, and I appreciated it as well.

  Hana waited for us outside of the barn we’d arranged to use. She paced around with her hands on her hips, no doubt wondering why no one had shown up yet. She dropped her arms to her sides and stared at us when she realized every singer and luski she’d ever worked with rode towards her.

  The group parted so I could ride to the front. We waited in silence, all of us looking down at her.

  “Get off your horses,” she said. “We’ve work to do.” We all heard the shakiness in her voice.

  “Not yet.” I held up my hand to keep anyone behind me from obeying her. “There’s no reason for us to dismount until we reach an understanding with you.”

  She laughed. “I believe I already have an understanding with every luski here. Do I need to reiterate those conversations?”

  I’d played this scene over in my head so many times, I swear I’d done a version of every type of thing she could say. Including this.

  “Those conversations don’t matter anymore. As a group, we can do things to you we can’t do alone. You won’t harm any of us, or I’ll bring the wrath of every luski in Ilari down upon you.”

  She looked at me, searching for a sign of weakness. I’d practiced showing none. It didn’t hurt that I sat on a horse looking down at her.

  She laughed. “That would be a fine show. I’d follow it up by bringing the wrath of the people of Ilari down upon each of you. None of you would have a safe life when I finished.”

  “Perhaps not. But the price you’d pay would be your ambitions, your dignity, and your joys. Are you willing to destroy your life to harness our power? Think. What good would it do you?”

  She gave me a look I’d never seen from her before. I’d put it somewhere between puzzlement and caution.

  “Why don’t you put your horses up and come in the barn. Let us discuss our path forward like reasonable people.”

  I motioned to the group. “Reasonable is all any of us ask for.” We dismounted almost as one and went inside. So far, this looked like one of the better versions I’d imagined.

  Once inside, she relaxed.

  “Look. We’re on the same side here. We all want to save Ilari. I think you’re capable of doing more, that’s all. Yes, it helps me if you do more, but it helps you, too. It helps us win. It helps us save lives. Based on what I know, I thought you’d need persuasion to get past your scruples, so I gave each of you reasons to work with me. Don’t be angry with me for wanting you to play a larger role.”

  She’d found a way to present her desires in the best light, but not an entirely factual one. I knew how to respond.

  “We’re not angry with you about that. We’ll all do what we can for our realm. We love Ilari, too. But you misunderstand us, while other members of the Velka do not. So, if you will run your ideas by the rest of the Velka’s ruling Conclave, every one of them, and if they overwhelmingly agree with your plans, then we’ll participate in any way we’re needed.”

  I heard several women behind me suck in their breath. Many in our group wouldn’t use their timbre on other humans no matter who asked them to, and I knew it. But I also knew the Velka would never ask such a thing of us. Hana knew it too; it was part of why she’d kept her ideas from them.

  I stood a little straighter. I was on firm ground here. “You and I will travel together and speak to my sister,” I said. “I want the full story from her on who’s responsible for what. I want to hear the Velka’s view of using us in other ways.”

  Hana blew out her breath at those words.

  “There is no need for such a journey. I speak for all of them.”

  “No, you don’t.” My boldness amazed me, but it felt good. “You bring Ryalgar, Aliz, and Joli to our next practice, then, and we’ll agree to whatever they ask of us.”

  I met her gaze with a smile. I could see her weighing her options in the expressions crossing her face. One of my better alternatives won out, for now.

  “Busy as everyone is, such a meeting would be difficult to arrange. Perhaps we would be better off focusing on our original task and doing it well. You are all still willing to coax horses into throwing riders, right?”

  I glanced behind me. I saw numerous nods and a lot of relief in people’s eyes.

  “Very well,” Hana said. “We’ll concentrate on that. We’ve no disagreement to settle today.”

  Actually, we did. I could have pretended otherwise, but I wanted this crock of scump to end.

  “There is another matter,” I said. I felt as well as heard the group behind me step in closer.

  “If we defeat the Mongols, once it’s over, none of us want to have contact with you again. We want to go back to the lives we’ve chosen, ones with few if any people knowing the truth about us. You’re never to ask any of us to do you any sort of favor, ever. Not in return for hiding our identities, or in return for anything else. Am I clear?”

  “Oh my.” She tried her best to look insulted. “I rather hoped we’d part better than that. We could become people who help each other, on occasion. That hardly seems demanding.”

  “Under the circumstances, it is. You hold a secret over us. We hold a power over you. We agree today to call it even and that’s the end of it.”

  I’m sure she considered arguing with me. Perhaps she thought of telling me she wasn’t sure we had enough power to compel her to make this deal. She might even have thought of asking for a demonstration. But she didn’t.

  “You have my word,” she said. “We’ll part according to your code. As strangers.”

  A sigh of relief came from most lips. It certainly did from mine.

  The rest of the morning went without problems, and everyone practiced with more enthusiasm than they’d shown recently. I suspected Hana noticed it. Even if she didn’t intend to honor her oath to us forever, today her acquiescence made sense.

  By the time I picked up Votto around noon, I was too exhausted to visit with Chessa or Janx.

  “Let Miss Coral get on home,” Janx told his daughter as she pulled on my sleeve trying to get me to play with her.

  I thanked him and bundled up Votto, hoping he wanted a nap as much as I did.

  Chapter 22. Adding Fire

  Living alone with a baby made seasonal celebrations seem less important. The Plono holiday passed with little notice from me other than remembering I w
as married exactly a year ago. Another couple would celebrate an anniversary, but not us.

  I might have missed Plono completely, except it made the ank ten days long instead of nine. The astronomers decreed this holiday separate from the ank it occurred in, as they often did, because otherwise our years were too short to match the cycles of the earth. So, I enjoyed the day off and caught up on chores.

  The start of Plono also meant autumn arrived. I noticed the cool breeze in the mornings as I rode over to school, needing a second blanket to keep Votto warm.

  Janx’s farm was close enough to my cottage that I sometimes put Chessa on my mare and took her home from school. It saved her father the ride over and back. When I did, the next day he often spent the time I’d saved him over at my place instead, chopping wood for me.

  As a thank you for my woodpile, I sometimes dropped off prepared food for their dinner. To repay me for the cooking, he sent me home with fresh fruit and vegetables from his wife’s garden. She’d had quite a green thumb, and he’d managed to keep most of it alive through the hot summer. I had almost no garden at all.

  Thus we managed to make each other’s lives easier, without ever discussing the future or exchanging a kiss. I was, after all, another man’s wife. He was a man who’d lost his beloved a mere two eighths ago. I suspected tongues wagged about the nature of our relationship anyway, but we never spoke of our growing interdependence. In truth, we didn’t speak of much. We just did little things for each other and left it at that.

  One evening in mid-Plono, after I gave Chessa a ride home, he asked if he could speak with me before I left. I noticed his table held goblets filled with wine and a plate with fruit and nuts to nibble on as we drank.

  “It’s a party?” I tried to sound light as my stomach did funny things. I liked our arrangement and hoped this conversation wouldn’t ruin our comfortable situation.

  “No, but, well, I wanted to do all I could to make you inclined to say yes to what I’m about to ask you.”

  My insides trembled. This didn’t sound good.

  He sat, gesturing me to sit also. Chessa had taken Votto into the bedroom to play. I noticed he’d closed the door on them, something he’d never done.

  “I don’t want Chessa to hear this conversation,” he said in response to my glance. “But I’m not sure how long our children will give us to talk, so I’ll be quick.” He gulped his wine. Then, as he remembered his manners, he gestured to mine. “Please. Drink.”

  I didn’t need encouragement. I took a gulp bigger than his. He raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  “I’ve something very important to ask you.”

  Why couldn’t he have waited? There was no hurry. Life was complicated enough right now.

  “And this question can’t wait,” he added. “I think you know I’ve been training with the other farmers. It will be our job to round up the Mongols that you get the horses to throw. We’re to secure them and parcel them out so they can be held through the winter.”

  “Yes. I know this.”

  I didn’t understand why it mattered though. Did he worry I thought he shirked his responsibilities to defend the realm? Was he trying to demonstrate how he would be a worthy husband? I already knew he would be.

  “Well, then you know I won’t be able to care for Chessa when this happens. She’s too young to help our efforts; she needs to evacuate. But she’s never been apart from me for long, and she’s scared of strangers.”

  Maybe I’d misjudged the subject of this conversation.

  The metallic glint in his iron-colored eyes shown as he stared into mine. “I need your help, Coral. With Chessa.”

  “I can’t help you. I’ll be doing tasks of my own then, important tasks.”

  “Of course. But Chessa loves Votto.” I think he wanted to add “like a brother” but he didn’t. “I’m asking that whoever takes Votto to safety takes her too. If she could leave with him, she’d be so much happier. She could even help out with him. Please?”

  The man was worried about his daughter during the invasion. Of course. How reasonable.

  My stomach grew still. Then as I opened my mouth to answer, I felt as if someone had thrown water in my face. For all the worrying I’d done, I’d made no specific plans for where Votto would be when the invasion happened. I guess I assumed my parents would watch him, but ….

  He saw the look on my face and he understood.

  “You haven’t thought about this yet? Of course you haven’t; you’ve got so much family to turn to that you know it’ll work out fine.”

  “Yes, but everyone in my family is playing some part somewhere, except for my mother. I need to talk to her about this. I’m sure she’ll take Votto, and then of course she’ll take Chessa, too. Votto knows Chessa and having her along would help.”

  He reached across the table and put both of his hands over mine. I think it was the first time he ever touched me, deliberately like that. I stared at our hands, mesmerized by how the ruddy tones of his skin contrasted with the soft pinks of mine. I liked the way they looked together.

  “Thank you,” he said. “We have much else to talk about, you and I, but not now. Perhaps we can agree to another conversation, once we’re both reunited with our children after Kolada?”

  My insides quivered one last time then calmed back down. I looked him in the eye.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  He picked up his goblet and downed the rest of his wine. “I would too.”

  As the weather cooled, we practiced every ank-break in either Gruen or Vinx. Votto no longer slept through practices so I began leaving him with Janx and Chessa so I could concentrate better.

  Most farmers lent us space if we asked, and I suspected they gained a certain amount of status by hosting us. The family always brought us treats to eat and asked if they could watch.

  Having an audience had made the luskies nervous when we started, but by Plono they didn’t object. We all donned our masks and asked the observers to keep their distance, but over time we realized we benefitted from having luskies seen as helping the greater good. If people feared us less after the invasion, we’d have easier lives.

  And trust within the group grew. Many of us no longer bothered with masks when it was only us. We didn’t part as strangers, even if we said we did.

  To Hana’s credit, she stayed focused on our task. She held no sessions for luskies only and made no further mention of using our skills on humans. Instead, she applied her devious mind to inventing obstacles we might face and to trying out ideas to overcome the unexpected.

  To this end, she provided themes for the practices. She devoted one to overcoming noise. Another focused on getting the horses to run after they’d been persuaded to buck. When we woke to a heavy storm one practice day and arrived wet, each of us hoped to be sent home due to the weather. As soon as we heard the excitement in her voice, though, we knew better.

  “I’ve been hoping for this! Let’s see how the heavy rain affects the horses. Can we use the lightning and thunder?”

  She noticed our annoyed expressions. “It does sometimes storm in the middle of a battle, you know.”

  Of course it did and we knew it. Despite mutters of resentment, we worked hard in that muck and left drenched. Back at home in front of our fires, we knew the morning workout left us better prepared.

  Through Tirga, Heli, and early Plono she’d avoided practicing with the reczavy. She said she didn’t want to start fires in the dry heat of summer, but I also suspected the reczavy made her uncomfortable.

  The ank after the heavy rains, we showed up at practice to find several reczavy already there. They’d built two elaborate walls of dry twigs and kindling and waited for us with lit torches. It looked like time for a dress rehearsal with fire.

  Once they lit the first wall, the horses could smell the smoke and became agitated. We had to coax them just to get them near. We all knew fire scared horses but were surprised at the amount of panic. I wondered if we only neede
d fire to get them to buck. Maybe the luskies and singers could stay home?

  Hana noticed the same thing. Once we’d done a run-through with each wall of fire and put all the flames out for a second time, she gathered us together. The reczavy hung on one side, keeping their distance from us. We luskies stood behind the singers, half-hidden by our partners. We weren’t a trusting group. Not yet.

  “We need to make sure the horses go around the curve so they hear us. We don’t want them stopping too soon,” she said.

  “We could wait longer to start the fire. Unless it’s raining, we can get the blaze going pretty fast.” One of the reczavy spoke. I looked closer at the tall slender blonde in a silver robe. It was my sister Gypsum. She saw me and gave me a little wave. I hesitated, then I gave a little wave back.

  “That would help,” Hana said, ignoring our waving. “The later the better, as long as it’s a full-on blaze after those horses round the bend. Then they can panic, and better yet run so they can’t be caught by their riders.”

  We nodded.

  “Are we going to practice with the farmers who’ll gather up the prisoners?”

  “Yes, in an ank or two. I’m worried about the Mongols who manage to stay mounted. They have arrows, they have swords. We have to focus on making their horses hard to control or casualties among our farmers will be severe.”

  “We can help you with that too,” a man from the reczavy said. “Today you just wanted fire, but we can also make smoke once the horses start to buck. You people will need to stay upwind, of course, wherever upwind is that day. And our farmers will need wet cloths over their faces. Hopefully, between coughing and poor visibility, these Mongols will have their hands full just getting away from us.”