by J. A. Day
In fact it was divided even more than two: the Mattsons and the Hoademakers looked onto the Baldurs with envy and wanted to be in a similar position in terms of power, and the Hoademakers and Matssons looked at each other, fighting it out to be more powerful than the other. All these people with their power plays didn’t care about what to do with that power, whether that power should be used to help people. It was just used to enrich themselves.
Did she really have to play in that game as well? She didn’t want to, she just wanted to do what the people wanted.
Gregor leant over to her, grimacing as he put out his hands. “Can you ever forgive me?”
She hated that Gregor had brought Hannes in, had some ties with the army he was gathering, and hadn’t told her about any of it. She wanted to be angry. But then she looked at him: his frail body, his tired eyes, his deathly cough, that rotten smell, and couldn’t be. What was the harm in forgiving this man who was soon going to die?
“I forgive you,” she said, grabbing hold of his hand and squeezing.
Gregor’s smile, for a brief moment, seemed to transform him into his younger and stronger self. It felt good to give someone that smile. But then the weakness and the illness took over again, and Gregor slumped back into bed.
Sigrun stood up in the chair, patted his hand again, and walked down the wagon. While she did, Gregor’s frail body in her mind seemed to merge into her mother’s body again. When she opened the door, tears streamed down her cheeks.
***
On Sonja’s way through Bonde Square she passed Sigrun, but there were no waves or smiles. Sigrun looked upset. There was a part of Sonja that wanted to follow her and ask what was wrong. She didn’t like to see Sigrun upset like that, but it felt like the visit to Gregor was more important at the moment. So all Sonja could do was stare at Sigrun as she went past, and tell herself that she would visit her after seeing Gregor.
It had been a surprise to hear that Gregor wanted to see her. All she remembered of the big man were the visits with her mother. Most of these visits were when she was a child, so she only saw him step into the Keeper’s wagon and after a few hours step out again. But these visits soon stopped when she was a teenager. The last time Gregor visited Sonja’s mother, he had stomped out of her mother’s wagon and shouted how she was going against the farmers and how he couldn’t accept her new purity path.
Before that the Baldurs were always an important family to the faith. They always came to morning and evening prayers. Their sons, nephews, and workers mixed socially with Priests and Priestesses and sometimes even married them. The Baldurs had always defended them when other families attacked their ways, and would usually vote for their laws within the council. After that meeting it all ceased, except for the occasional get together and marriage.
With all that bad blood between the faith and the Baldurs, Sonja wondered why she had been personally summoned.
It wasn’t hard to understand when she saw Gregor in his bed, and smelled the rottenness of his room. She was shocked to see how weak and tired he looked. The black beard had turned gray and scraggly, and none of the braids were tied up. There were dark rings around his eyes, and a gauntness to his face. Seeing it made Sonja have to close her eyes, breathe deeply, and push herself forwards. It was clear Gregor was going to die soon.
She strode over to him, making herself display a serene smile - even though she was absolutely heartbroken and terrified to see a big man brought so low - and bowed. “It is an honor to be called in by the eminent Gregor Baldur. How may I serve?”
Gregor waved the compliment away, coughing in the process. Sonja could see small bits of blood on the pillow.
“You don’t have to prop me up as more than I am,” he said, voice like a croaky whisper. “I know there has been some distance between me and the faith.”
“But there is always time to bring us closer together again,” she said, walking over to his side and squeezing his hand.
Gregor examined her. “You really do want to bring the two sides of the wagon train together, don’t you?”
“Very much so, it’s a travesty to our very Mission that our neighbors hate us. How can we convert others when we cannot even convert the ones closest to us, have made them drift away from us even,” she said, sitting down in the chair.
“I was skeptical that the faith could change,” Gregor said. “But hearing what happened at the festival, and seeing you, I am no longer worried. You’re doing a great job at trying to get rid of the problems your mother caused.”
Sonja nodded, remembering the portrait of her mother showing her as passionate. “One thing my mother was strong at was pursuing things and making them real. It is unfortunate that she pursued the wrong things.”
“Even when you are changing these things, it still surprises me to hear you call them wrong,” Gregor said. “Do you not feel...close to what your mother did? Do you not feel some kind of guilt for going against her ways so deliberately?”
“No, because my mother’s ways hurt me more than your farmers'. I was made to feel shame about who I am.” Sonja shook her head. “But this isn’t about me, this is about you.”
Gregor looked down at the bed, seemingly ashamed. It was a surprise to her that this giant leader would feel something like that.
“I wanted to tell you my shadow, in the hope that I could go to Sol with only light inside,” he said.
“And what is your shadow?” she asked.
“I have sowed the seeds of the faith’s destruction.”
And he told her about Hannes. How the Elders of three families voted him in as Jarl in order to take away the faith’s power. How Hannes had taken that goal to mean building up an army to violently get rid of the faith. Even though Sonja knew some of this from what Sigrun had told her, it still felt like a blow to hear it out loud, to have someone like Gregor try to excuse it while also understanding he was guilty. When the explanation was over, both her and Gregor fell silent.
The silence was heavy and awkward, only broken up by Gregor coughing. Eventually he sighed, and stared at her. “Do you think Sol will forgive me?”
She didn’t know whether she could forgive him, but looking at him now, at his weak body, at the knowledge that he was going to die soon, she felt that it would be cruel not to give him what he wanted.
“I think she can, if you acknowledge your shadows, and make sure to counteract the deeds with light,” she said.
Gregor’s face lit up, looking for a brief moment like he was thirty years younger. “I will insist to Sven to vote in this new law of Sigrun’s, to try to stem Hannes recruitment. I will also make sure my son, and the farmers, help you in your endeavors to unify the wagon train. I feel doing this will cast a light big enough to counteract my shadows.”
She leant forwards, and squeezed his hand. “I do believe it will.”
Gregor’s eyes filled up with tears, and he squeezed her hand back. “Thank you so much.”
Sonja stood up. “I believe I should pray with you, and prepare you for your journey to Sol, whenever that happens.”
“I feel it’s going to happen soon,” he said, wiping his eyes.
The two of them closed their eyes, and said prayers to Sol. Sonja prayed for his shadows to be banished, and for him to be shown the light of Sol, and when he died for him to be taken to where Sol resided. Gregor finished off the prayer by praying for the wagon train to become unified, for Sonja’s plan to be enacted fully, and for the future to be filled with as much light as possible.
In that moment she felt the closest she had ever been to a proper Keeper. When she had been named Keeper she felt like an impostor in the job, feeling like she didn’t have the grace or authority for it. Every time she met people as the Keeper it felt like an act that was going to be found out at any moment. But now, fulfilling what Gregor wanted from her and praying to Sol, she felt like she was meant for this job. She could change the faith to something positive, all she had to do was try.
When Sonja ended the prayers, she was thankful to Gregor for allowing her to finally be confident in the role as the Keeper. Even though he had brought in Hannes, and had some hand with bringing in the army that wanted to destroy the faith, she still felt sad that he was going to pass on from this world. She felt that the wagon train would be worse off without him in it.
She walked out of the wagon. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
TO SEE THE MONSTERS THAT HAUNTED YOU AT NIGHT IN THE COLD LIGHT OF DAY IS ALWAYS COMICAL. A FEROCIOUS BEAST STALKING YOUR DOOR BECOMES NOTHING BUT AN OLD COAT
‘Fearsome Shadows Of A Mouse’ by Mohini Hagir
Sigrun walked back to her wagon, feeling a terrible weight inside. Images flashed in her mind of her mother’s weak body, her raspy voice, and the final closing of her eyes. Sigrun tried to push the images out of her mind, saying to herself that it was long ago and she couldn’t do anything about it now. But that didn’t stop the images from coming.
The only thing that could cure her dull pain was to get into bed and read a fable from her mother’s book. That would make her feel a little better. By reading them she would be transported to a time when her mother was alive and full of power, not when she was weak and vulnerable.
But she wouldn't get her wish, as an unlikely person stood at her wagon door. Hannes leant against the wagon, arms folded. Seeing his swept back blond hair and grin caused Sigrun to sigh. She really wasn’t in the mood for this.
“I never thought I’d get to see my predecessor,” she said, as strong as she could manage.
“I’ve been around the Mattsons, I’m sure you could have found me if you wanted,” he said, straightening up and putting out his hand.
Sigrun looked down, ignored it, and opened the door. “I feel it’s always good to try to ignore those who have come before you, find your own path.”
“But there are so many mistakes that we can steer you from,” Hannes said, clearly not taking the hint that he should go away.
“I’ve heard about your mistakes. I feel I can avoid them quite easily.”
Hannes didn’t stop smiling, and his hand was still out wanting her to shake it. “I feel we should talk.”
She sighed again, feeling that the only way that she was going to get rid of him was to hear what he had to say, so she opened the door and waved him in.
When Hannes saw the rough wood with splinters poking out of them, the askew shelf, the wardrobe that wouldn’t shut, and the general mess, he looked confused.
“Did Yael and Gregor not give you the Jarl’s wagon?” he asked, like he was offended on her behalf.
Sigrun couldn’t help but smile. He had no clue what she was like or what she preferred. He assumed that Yael and Gregor had given her a bum deal and that he would come in to save her. Little did he know that this daggy wagon was where she felt perfectly comfortable. And if he didn’t know what she really was like he was coming into this meeting with bad grounding.
“They gave me the Jarl’s wagon, but I decided it just wasn’t for me,” she said, as innocently as possible.
Hannes looked surprised at this, but then he went back to grinning. “Ah, a way of showing the people that you are one of them. I’m surprised I didn’t think of that.”
Of course, everything to Hannes was a political game. To him there was no genuine action or belief, everything a Jarl did was a calculation to gain the most power or popularity. It felt sad that this was the Jarl before her. How could the people accept someone that seemed so fake?
She sat on the bed, and gestured for Hannes to sit in the chair at the desk. “What do I owe the pleasure, then?”
Hannes leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was about to whisper a conspiracy. “I know about the law you're bringing in about reducing parties. I’m here to tell you that’s a very bad idea. You’ve done well to get people on your side, but this law will set them against you. You may think the faith is giving you no choice, they feel strong so I can understand the pressure, but you can go against them. You’ll be safe if you do.”
Sigrun had to stop herself from laughing. Hannes thought that she was a little lost lamb in this job, only doing what the grown ups told her to do. It would be insulting if it wasn’t just a little bit funny. And she had been worried about this guy, his political influence, his army? Seeing him sprouting this nonsense made them all feel like ghosts that disappear when you shine a light on them.
“And what protection would that be? What would I get if I didn’t vote in this law?” she asked, wanting him to admit his secrets.
“I don’t want to say too much,” he said, looking around the wagon. “But the faith won’t be the only force in this place for too long. And as for the benefits for going down my route, well you’ll be the Keeper of my parties. Every time I make one your name will come up, hell you could be a VIP if you want to be. It’ll give you a good in with the people you want to lead, and will allow you to be on the ground level of the future of the wagon train.”
“The ground level of the future of the wagon train, you talk in such grand terms but don’t give me any specifics,” she said.
But Hannes was too clever to be led into her trap. He just shrugged, and said, “It’s dangerous to go into specifics sometimes. You never know what side people are on, and I was just voted out of my job.”
“So tell me, what would happen if I didn’t go with your plan. What mistake would I be making?”
“Oh, a big one. The people love my weekly parties, it’s the lifeblood of this wagon train. No where else do they get a chance just to forget their work and their plight.”
“And what plight would that be?” she asked.
Hannes gave her a hard stare. “Being forced to follow a faith they do not believe in.”
Sigrun shook her head. “You must have not attended the harvest festival. The faith has changed, and people’s attitude towards them have changed as well. The faith wants to unify the wagon train, bringing both sides together. A few days ago I talked with the people and they told me they felt positively about the faith.”
“Ah but something can always happen to dampen that enthusiasm,” Hannes said, wiping her desk with his hand. “The faith and the people of the wagon train have divergent goals. They will eventually come into conflict, like maybe the people will want to settle down. The faith will never accept that, it goes against their Mission.”
Sigrun felt a little chill from that. Was he right, would the faith ever accept that proposal? But she dismissed the worry. She had something that Hannes never had, a great relationship with the woman who ran the faith.
“I disagree,” she said, feeling more sure of herself. “What did you say earlier, yes that was it, I feel the relationship between the people and the faith now is the ground level of the future of the wagon train. These laws I am creating are a part of that. No longer will people worry about starvation because the food has been wasted on parties, no longer will the sweat of the farmers' labor be thrown away just because people want to forget their troubles. Instead, they will think positively about their fellow caravaners because they will talk with them and become friendly with them at these designated celebrations.”
Hannes sighed. “As I said, you’re making a big mistake.”
“And will you make it a mistake?” she said, as icily as possible.
Hannes laughed, and pushed himself off the chair. “You have no idea who you are dealing with. You’re clever, I give you that, but I have the weight of the families on my side. I hope you enjoy your power as long as it lasts. But know that the ground of the future I talked about will be laid, no matter how many dead bodies we have to bury under it.”
He smiled an evil smile, and walked out the door.
When he was gone, Sigrun burst out laughing. All of Hannes' posture and threats felt so weak. He was clearly scared of the party's law, and had visited to persuade her to stop it. All it felt like was empty threats. It made her feel that his power was going to collapse soon, and she was going
to collapse it.
She chuckled, as she took ‘How Manang Ate The Sun, and Other Fables’ down from the shelf. Sigrun crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She had nothing to worry about.
THE OTHER LOVER SAID STEP ON BOARD. BUT THERE WAS A LARGE RIVER BETWEEN THEM
‘Two Lovers Meet’ Skald Song
Sonja knocked on Sigrun’s door. She looked around, noticing a few people milling about or sitting down at tables near their wagons. The faith encampment just across the grass was filled with Priests, Priestesses, and Acolytes gathering together in groups and chatting away. Sonja would not be able to stay long, which disappointed her.
When Sigrun opened her door, her eyes looked blurry, and there was red down her cheeks. She must have been crying after her visit with Gregor. Not a surprise as the whole situation had been very emotional and sad. However, Sigrun did manage a smile when she saw her, and waved her in.
When the world had been shut out, they hugged. The feeling of Sigrun in her arms brought warmth and strength back to her. She caressed Sigrun’s back, and kissed her.
“I just wanted to see if you were ok,” she said.
Sigrun put her head onto her shoulder. “I think I’m ok.”
They stood in each other's arms. For how long, Sonja didn’t know, but each moment in that embrace felt glorious and right. She could have stayed in that embrace forever, but eventually Sigrun broke away.
“You probably want to catch up, but I feel we need to discuss something important,” Sigrun said, walking over to the desk in the corner.
The desk was strewn with papers messily laid about. When Sonja looked closer she could see they were maps.
