Watershed

by Jane Abbott

  ‘In a week, the Catchers will return from the Sea,’ Ballard was saying. ‘We’ll only have a few hours before the other two are sent out. Quinn, make sure everyone is in place, ready for Amon’s signal. It’s important you –’

  Thwack! The pointer came down hard on the table and everyone jumped. I glared at the stick, pissed that the bloody thing still hadn’t broken.

  ‘Are we boring you, Jem?’

  ‘Yeah. Kinda.’ It was the first time I’d spoken all morning and my voice sounded as tired as I felt.

  Heads swivelled and a low rumble rolled across the table. Ballard’s men respected him, and my rudeness didn’t sit well. I yawned again, testing them; the rumble grew louder.

  ‘Why’s he even here?’ demanded Micah. It was a good question, probably the best I’d heard all morning.

  ‘He’s here because we need him.’ But Ballard didn’t seem too happy about the idea any more.

  ‘There’s no reason for him to be hearing this,’ Micah complained. ‘All he has to do is open a few gates. And maybe we don’t even need him for that.’

  ‘You want to do it, go right ahead,’ I said. ‘And while you’re at it you can take care of Garrick too.’

  ‘Garrick’s dead, you idiot,’ Micah sneered.

  ‘You know that for a fact, do you?’

  ‘Enough!’ Ballard cut in, pressing his hands to the table, looming over it. But he still kept hold of the stick. ‘Unfortunately, Jem is right. Garrick lives. And Anders is dead.’

  From the gasps of dismay and the mutterings that followed, I guessed this wasn’t good news, though not just for them. I knew Garrick would’ve survived whatever they’d planned for him, but to have it confirmed was deeply disappointing.

  ‘How long have you known?’ Quinn piped up from the end of the table.

  ‘Over a week,’ Ballard admitted.

  ‘And you’ve waited until now to tell us?’ asked Amon.

  ‘We had other things to deal with,’ Ballard replied, levelling a look at me. ‘Just as important.’

  ‘Without the north, we can’t –’

  ‘Everything continues as planned. Nothing’s changed. Anders’ son has assumed command, and the men Garrick took out have been replaced.’

  ‘The son is not the father,’ observed Quinn.

  ‘How many did we lose?’ Amon asked. ‘How did it happen?’

  Ballard wiped a hand over tired eyes. ‘Seven. Somehow, Garrick knew. He was ready for them.’ Then his voice hardened. ‘We were prepared for losses. We knew the risk. And Tyler knows the plan, better than anyone else. Him taking over makes sense.’

  ‘The risk was only worth taking if Garrick was killed.’

  But Ballard wasn’t prepared to admit any mistakes. ‘No one wishes more than me that we’d succeeded,’ he said, bitterly. ‘But everything we do is a risk. Killing Garrick ourselves was always a long shot, but we took it hoping it’d lessen the risk, not do away with it completely.’

  There was a brief silence while everyone considered Ballard’s words, then Quinn nodded. ‘Maybe this is for the best. If Garrick’s returned to the Citadel it means he believes the threat is over.’

  ‘Right,’ said Ballard. ‘So everything continues as planned, the Council’s no wiser, and no one in this room is at any greater risk than before. Are we agreed?’

  No one? Excuse me? Except he was right, because I’d always known I’d have to deal with Garrick myself. Nothing had changed in that respect.

  ‘So now we have to rely on this Watchman.’ Micah spat his disgust.

  ‘It was always a possibility,’ Ballard replied. ‘You asked why he was here. This is why.’ Then, to me, he said, ‘Jem, stand up.’

  All eyes narrowed with distrust when I rose. Another silence, this time uncomfortable, and not just for them.

  ‘Remove your shirt,’ Ballard ordered, adding, when I frowned, ‘Do it, Jem. Now.’

  I undid the ties and, pulling the shirt over my head, breathed deeply of Alex. More mutterings as the men took in the marks, but I ignored them, staring at the wall opposite – my head, if not high, at least level.

  ‘Turn around,’ Ballard said, and when I did the mutterings died away. I couldn’t see their faces, but I knew what they were looking at. The scars. Raised welts, pale and puckered and long-healed, criss-crossing my shoulders and back, disappearing into the belt of my trousers. I’d never seen what they saw, but I’d felt them, every one of them. Still felt them, though the pain was forgotten.

  ‘This is a man who knows the cruelty of the Tower,’ Ballard said. ‘This is a man who understands Garrick better than any of us, who knows what we face and what he has to deal with. This is the only man who has any chance of defeating him. We can’t excuse the marks on his chest. But these scars are their cause. That’s why he was chosen. Whips, chains, rope, wire, razors, brands. Fear. That’s what it takes to break a man.’

  Darts shot into shoulders and rocks smashed against heads did a real good job too, but I said nothing. And Micah was far from convinced.

  ‘It’s one thing to agree to help us, it’s another to actually do it. How do we know he won’t fold when the time comes? Or betray us.’

  ‘You don’t,’ I said, turning to face him. ‘But I’m the best chance you’ve got of getting rid of Garrick and gaining access to the Tower.’

  ‘And we’re supposed to believe you’ve suddenly seen the light? That you’re doing this because you’ve had a miraculous change of heart?’ Micah half rose from his chair.

  ‘My reasons are none of your fucking business,’ I told him. ‘And until a few hours ago I didn’t know you from shit. So one thing you can be sure of, I ain’t doing it for you.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Ballard interjected before Micah could retaliate. I pulled my shirt back on, and Micah sulked while the rest glanced at each other.

  ‘So be it.’ Amon was the first to speak. ‘It seems we have little choice.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Quinn, and Grady and the others nodded. Only Micah had voiced his dissent, but he’d been outvoted.

  ‘Good,’ Ballard said, his face smoothing with relief. But he looked suddenly weary. ‘We’ve gone over time. Amon, Quinn, Thatcher, you’d better get back to the settlement. We’ll meet again tomorrow. That’ll be our last opportunity before Tate and I depart for the Citadel. Alex will be returning with us.’

  Well, at least now I knew the schedule.

  We all stood to go, and I was looking forward to getting some sleep, until Ballard snatched it from me again. ‘Not you, Jem.’

  Micah cast an evil glance my way before pushing past the others, while the rest took their time, stopping to murmur to Ballard or Tate. I slouched, irritable, longing for my bed and thinking on what he’d said. So Alex was returning to the Citadel too. The man who’d replaced him for a night would deliver her safely back to her husband. There’s irony for you, Ballard.

  ‘So, it’s done,’ Ballard sighed when they’d all left.

  ‘You lied to me,’ I said, keen to speed things along.

  He shook his head. ‘Not so much a lie as a precaution. You needed to make your own decision and you couldn’t have done that knowing it rested on the decision of others. I don’t own these men, Jem. But after what happened to Anders, it was the only way. And we do need you. More than you know.’

  ‘And if they’d followed Micah? If they’d voted not to take a chance?’

  ‘But they didn’t. Your question is irrelevant.’

  So was his reply, because I suspected that had the vote gone against him, Ballard would’ve proceeded with his own plan regardless.

  ‘Reckon Micah’s probably got a bit more to say about it, though,’ I said.

  ‘Probably, but right now we have other things to discuss. Tate?’

  Tate took out a small pouch and passed it to me. Briefly I juggled its weight before opening it and tipping the contents onto the table. Tags, still bearing the stains of blood and threads of withered tissue. I picked one up and s
tudied it, listening as Ballard explained.

  ‘As you know, one of the more pleasant duties assigned to Guards is removing the tags of the deceased so they can be sent on to the Tower and the records amended. A few years ago we began keeping a number aside so you’d have something to show for your time here.’

  A few years ago? I dropped the tag and stared at Ballard.

  ‘I told you, we’ve been planning this for a long time,’ he told me.

  ‘How many?’ I asked, too tired to bother counting.

  His smile was grim. ‘That magic number, Jem. Twenty-three.’ I didn’t react as he might’ve hoped; I was too busy thinking of Garrick’s knife scoring me for twenty-three kills I’d never actually made. But Ballard hadn’t finished. ‘Remember, it’s all about redemption. And, of course, you must return from this assignment as you would from any other. You have to present these tags so Garrick believes you’ve been successful.’ There was a pause, another sigh, before he asked, ‘Tell me, what will he do when you don’t bring him a girl?’

  I scooped up the tags and dropped them back into the pouch before pulling the string tight. Then I sat back and stared at him straight. ‘Flog me.’ And that was the least I could expect. But just as Ballard had known his risk, I’d known mine.

  He nodded. ‘And that will incapacitate you for how long?’

  ‘Dunno,’ I shrugged. ‘A week, ten days. Maybe more.’ It would depend on his method, and his mood.

  Ballard bowed his head and sighed. ‘We can’t afford that time.’

  ‘Yeah? Well this is one occasion when you don’t get to choose.’

  He began his pacing again. ‘You mentioned Micah, his hostility? There’s a reason for it. He lost his sister three years ago. To the Watchman who came here hunting Dissidents.’

  Goaded by his tone, I swallowed my joke about Micah’s carelessness. ‘Why don’t you just say what you mean, Ballard? Only I didn’t kill any women that time. Just four men.’ As he knew.

  ‘I didn’t say you killed her,’ Ballard replied. ‘Not directly, anyway.’

  I froze, trying to recall a face. ‘I don’t –’

  ‘You don’t what, Jem? You don’t remember?’ He paused, maybe waiting for me to offer some ready excuse; but I had none, and he continued. ‘Micah doesn’t know it was you, and we won’t tell him. That would undermine our purpose. Nor does he know her real fate. But you do, don’t you?’

  Finally he got his reaction. ‘Shut up.’

  ‘Is she still alive?’ Tate asked, and I squeezed my eyes tight.

  ‘I don’t know.’ But it was doubtful. I couldn’t remember her, and three years was a long time to service the men of the Watch.

  ‘Do you use them?’ Ballard needled, his words as sharp as my darts. ‘After Garrick’s finished, do you revisit your crimes and use those girls?’

  ‘No,’ I muttered. ‘Never.’

  ‘Do you know how many beds our infirmary holds?’ he asked, and I stared, wary of his sudden question, before shaking my head. I hadn’t counted the cots because there’d been no need; one or fifty, it made no difference.

  ‘Thirty,’ he said. ‘Two-thirds filled with women. Sometimes it’s more than that, but it’s never less, and every one of them has been beaten. Or raped. Or tortured. Just like Marin was. It’s the greatest shame of men, Jem. Always has been.’

  My shame too, was what he meant. Rubbing my head, trying to relieve the exhaustion and guilt, I met his glare. ‘Wherever it is you’re trying to go with this, fucking get there already.’

  ‘Very well. Five years ago, Alex helped set up that infirmary. When she’s here, she works tirelessly to help those women, to ease their suffering where she can. Sometimes she succeeds and they leave, never really healed but at least alive. And sometimes she fails, and they die, as Marin did. And every time, Jem, every single time, a part of Alex dies too.’

  I sighed, long and hard. ‘Still waiting, Ballard. Why are you telling me this? That place, those victims? It’s real sad, but they’re not my doing. Yeah, I’ve given girls to Garrick, but you can’t pin those other women on me. I’ve agreed that I’m done, all right? Let’s leave it alone.’

  Tate scuffed his feet and stared at the table, but Ballard kept eyeing me.

  ‘You’re right, Jem. Twenty-three is more than enough for any man.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘But, sadly, not enough for you. You’re going to have to deliver one more to Garrick.’

  ‘What are you talking about? How do I –?’ I broke off. Maybe I’d misheard, or misunderstood; maybe lack of sleep had robbed me of all reason. But Ballard’s pale gaze was bleak, and a sudden chill raised and tightened my skin.

  Alex will be returning with us.

  ‘No! You can’t be serious.’ I stared at him, at his grim face, finally comprehending his defeat. ‘Fuck!’

  ‘This was always a possibility, Jem. That’s why we tried so hard to get rid of Garrick. That’s one of the reasons we sacrificed seven men. For Alex.’

  ‘She’s your fucking sister! You can’t do this. I won’t do it!’

  ‘Why not?’ he replied, raising his own voice. ‘It’s never bothered you before. Twenty-three girls, just like her, and you didn’t give any of them a second thought. Do you even remember Micah’s sister, what she looked like? Her name? Or maybe you think spending the night between my sister’s legs excuses you?’

  So he had known. I slumped back in my chair. This was always a possibility, Jem. This was why Alex had come to the Hills. Not to bring maps or medical supplies. Anyone could’ve done that. She was there to help her brother. So she could be returned as a prisoner and handed over to Garrick. Keeping me safe, and ensuring success.

  ‘You bastard. You’d do this to your own sister?’

  ‘D’you think I want this?’ he cried. ‘This isn’t my decision to make. And it’s certainly not yours. You don’t know her. You will never truly know her, but I do, and I won’t stand in her way. This is her contribution, and I warned you that she’d do anything for our cause.’

  ‘Not this,’ I pleaded. ‘You don’t know what he does. You have no idea what he’ll do to her.’

  ‘We all know, Alex better than any of us. Every day she’s faced with it. But we can’t afford to have you out of action for any length of time, and there’s no one else.’ He paused, glaring at me. ‘Quit pretending, Jem. A few weeks ago you would’ve done anything to see Alex hurt, even killed. It takes more than a night of fucking to change that.’

  ‘Don’t make me do this,’ I whispered. ‘I can’t.’

  I can’t –

  I can’t –

  ‘But you will. And not because it serves our purpose, or because it’ll save your own miserable hide. You’ll do it for all those girls. For Micah’s sister, and for Marin. And you’ll do it for Alex.’ He gathered up a handful of reports and slid them across the table. ‘Seeing you paid so little attention today, you can read these before tomorrow’s meeting. I expect you to know every detail before we depart.’

  He slammed the door behind him and I remained where I was, all dreams of sleep crushed. He was right. I had wished Alex harm. But he was wrong too, because I did know her. I’d known her sorrow, and her anger, her contempt and her sympathy. I’d known her coldness and I’d felt her compassion. And there was something else I knew too, something Ballard didn’t. I knew her body; the same one Garrick would break, just as he would her spirit.

  Tate broke the silence. ‘Will he kill her?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘But he’ll make her wish he had. Why, Tate? This is pointless. I can kill Garrick as soon as I return. There’s no need for this.’

  ‘Because we need the time,’ he replied.

  ‘Then let me take the flogging. It’s nothing, just a few more scars.’ But saying it didn’t make it true. And Ballard was right about that too. There was no way of knowing how long it’d take me to recover sufficiently to overcome Garrick.

  ‘Jem, I’m afraid you’re your own
worst enemy,’ Tate said. ‘You’ve never failed an assignment, and you’ve always given Garrick exactly what he wanted. And always women. If you don’t do that now you’ll raise his anger as well as his suspicion. This way, you and Alex will buy us the time Ballard and I need with Cade.’

  ‘Cade.’ I spat the name. ‘I guess he’s in on this too?’ You know what to do.

  Tate sighed. ‘The other week you asked why I was angry. This is why. I love Alex as much as Ballard does. She’s like a sister to me too. When we heard about Garrick and knew Alex would follow through, I was furious – with her, with you, with him, with everyone whose actions have brought us to this. I’m still coming to terms with it. And Ballard is paying a higher price than you think. But this is Alex’s decision, and if we love her we have to respect it.’

  Which just left me, and what right did I have to feel furious? I didn’t love Alex. She wasn’t my sister or my wife. She was just a woman I’d fucked for a night, like I would any other. Except, she wasn’t. Because she’d fucked me too. She’d kissed me and held me and stroked me and made me whole, both of us giving what we had, each of us taking what we could. And the idea of Garrick abusing her sickened me.

  ‘You should’ve told me, Tate. About this. About Cade. You should’ve fucking told me.’

  ‘We have told you. Just now. But if we’d told you earlier, do you think it would’ve changed anything? Your decision, or what happened last night?’