by Billy Wong
"No, not really. Not even when he's sober."
Looking over at Ethan in his chair, Rose could hardly believe the calmness of his face. Here he was hearing about a man who would more than likely try to pick a fight, and he was acting as if nothing was amiss. How? He couldn't fight, and didn't expect Rose to either. Wasn't he afraid for himself?
Almost an hour later, a loud knock sounded at the door, and an impatient voice called out, "Earl! Open up!"
Muttering something about Phil having his own key, Earl went to open the door. The board swung aside to reveal a dark-complexioned man of middling height, his hair shorn short and his eyes narrow and sly. When he saw Rose and Ethan, Phil glowered, stepped briskly inside, and put himself right in Ethan's face.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here? And who's she, your bodyguard?"
Rose would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so scary. She was indeed quite a bit more massive than her slender partner. "Linda misses you and your children," Ethan replied. "You need to go home, your kids need their mother."
"She was babying them, teaching them to be wimps!"
Rose responded immediately. "They're little kids! And you're not even home to raise them 'right.'"
He stared at her. "That's because I have to work. Look at them, they're spoiled rotten! Earl will teach them right."
They were rowdy, but again, they were young. "Earl isn't doing anything. He doesn't know what he's doing. Isn't that right?"
She realized she'd said the wrong thing as Phil glared at his friend. "Is this true?"
"You idiot!" Earl admonished Rose as he hid behind her.
"I'm going to rip you in half!" Phil said, reaching for his cowering friend. He wasn't big but he was definitely fierce and scary. Rose blocked his way, and he growled, "I'll do the same to you if you don't get out of the way." His eyes burned with such rage, Rose could imagine him just grabbing her and ripping her arms off. She leaned back in fright. As formidable as she was in battle, she was unused to just standing her ground in the face of hostility.
"Calm down," Ethan said. "So you say Linda doesn't discipline your children right. Have you talked to her about it?"
"Yes, but she doesn't listen. She lets them run around like wild animals, turn my house into a pigsty!"
"And to think it's women who are supposed to be vain about their homes," Rose commented.
"Shut up, Rose," Ethan said, bringing a smile to Phil's face. "She has a point, though. They're really small, you should give them some time."
"I can't even sleep when I get home. They don't follow the rules of night and day, they're playing in the evening and sleeping in the afternoon. How am I supposed to stay alert at work, when I can't get any shut-eye?"
That was a real problem. "Wow. I mean, kids are kids, but not sleeping at night? What's your wife been doing with them?"
"I'd like to know that myself."
Feeling more sympathetic than she'd expected towards the beleaguered dad, Rose said, "But you still shouldn't have beat your wife."
"She slapped me."
"You still shouldn't. You hit her back harder, didn't you?"
"She hits harder than you'd think, and I always hold back for her sake."
Rose sighed and looked at Ethan. "Okay," he said to Phil, "it sounds like you have a big problem here. But you should try to give having a whole family another chance, so come back and let us help you sort things out with your wife. I'm sure you can make things better if you try. Besides, if you don't come back she might get the law involved, and nobody will be happy for that trouble."
"All right," Phil said, and let them lead him with the kids outside.
"Thank the gods!" Earl exclaimed, then added, "You're pretty, big girl."
Rose smiled awkwardly, thanked him, and followed the men back to the tower where Linda awaited them. With a little help from her, Ethan mediated a heated discussion between husband and wife, and eventually they worked out a plan of discipline for their problem children. Phil and Linda left with their rambunctious kids in tow, and Ethan said, "See? You didn't need your sword. Most people aren't as bad as you're afraid."
Maybe not. She had to admit she felt pretty good about what they'd just done. But he wasn't used to facing the kind of men she had encountered before, when she really had been forced to fight. Still, violence hadn't been the way this time, and Ethan's success made her heart swell for him all the more. "Yeah, you're right. You did great."
"We did," he agreed. "It's almost time for the big day."
"Huh? What big day?"
Ethan furrowed his brow in confusion. "Nobody told you?"
"Told me what? No..."
"We're leaving for the province of Jugeld next week, to help out the people on the border there. They've been devastated by all the raids from Volston in recent days."
Rose had heard about the battles with the Volstonians which had plagued Kayland's southeast, and had even considered, though not too seriously, going there to fight against the invaders for her countrymen's sake. She had been a bit confused as to why the legendary Prince Victor hadn't been able to turn back the tide, but supposed even as mighty a warrior as he couldn't be everywhere at once. The border was wide, and the enemy many. But to go there now, as a follower of peace?
"That far, Ethan? Why? There's still plenty of needy here." It was all the way across the nation, weeks away even on horseback.
"They're needy, but they're used to their lives. The people who've been displaced in Jugeld have suffered a tremendous shock, and need our help more." Ethan smiled at her. "What, aren't you up to traveling? I thought you were a big adventurer, right? Back when you were a warrior?"
That was pretty much why she didn't want to go. She was a warrior at heart, and it would be tough for her not to fight if the Volstonians attacked while she was around. After all, she knew she could make a tremendous difference, much more than by helping the defenders in a peaceful way. And selfishly enough, she wasn't really ready to leave Dunwal yet. She wasn't done studying the Old World. She only explained her first reason, with a sigh.
"You'll be helping plenty even if you don't fight. And you won't be harming the Volstonians while you're doing it."
"But somebody will have to, and the ones I don't kill will reap their share of Kayland lives."
Ethan took a deep breath and met her eyes. "So if you kill people from Volston, that'll mean less Kaylanders die. But I don't see it that way, Rose. People will die either way, and wherever they're from, they're people just the same. I don't care about national lines. It'll be sad, but it's sad either way. But it'll be worse for me, if the woman I love participates herself in such strife. And worst of all if you die."
"You don't care at all, about our countrymen?"
"No, I do care about them. Just as much as I do for the rest of humanity."
Rose knew there wasn't really anything she could pinpoint that would make a Kaylander's life more valuable than, say, a Volstonian or Coblander's. Maybe all men were worth the same. But she still had a basis for her argument. "The Volstonians are invading us, Ethan. That's what makes their cause wrong, and ours right. Our countrymen are fighting to protect themselves, not to destroy innocent lives. So that's why it's justified for me, to shed Volstonian blood. They should have stayed away."
"You're right, Rose. Men who attack others unprovoked are wrong, and they should be taught to change. But we're not warriors, and we won't stoop to their ways."
"I'm a warrior. I told you I wouldn't forget that, and even if I've lived in peace for some time, I'm always ready to fight for right and life."
"You're a Whitestone. We don't fight."
Rose hated rigid rules like that. Sure, it was her fault for joining them when she knew they had such a strong code of beliefs. But she loved Ethan and knew he loved her back, and thought that for her sake he should learn to be more flexible in his ways. "So if I do fight, what would you do?"
"I don't know. Please don't make me decide."
But she was scared, too scared of losing him to yet defy him outright. "All right. I won't seek to join the fight. But you know how tempting it would be for me, if we find ourselves close to the battle."
"I know. That's why we need to learn to resist temptation."
Feeling painfully separate from him in her mind, Rose nodded halfheartedly and went to sort some donated clothes.
#
"Is it ever tough for you to obey our doctrines?" Rose asked Gary, a fellow Whitestone who had once been a warrior. Tall and thick with a narrow face and stringy blonde hair, he still looked fierce, and if anyone among the pacifists knew her plight it was him.
"No, not really? Why?"
His answer was already beginning to make her feel silly about her conflicted thoughts. If no one else here was having her problem, why was she? "As you know, I used to be a fighter, and this mission we're taking to Jugeld is going to bring us into a war zone. How can I not think to fight, when my people are dying around me and I know there's so much I can do to help?"
"Because it's not in your nature to fight."
"It is in my nature to fight. Why do you think I was able to kill a hundred men in one day, when I was just a fifteen year old girl with less than a year of real battle experience? I think I might have been born to be a warrior. I'm certainly physically built for it. I've taken so many deadly blows, and yet I can't seem to die."
"I don't think it's any person's nature to fight, even if you are as strong as you say. Humans aren't made for battle."
It was a strange notion to her, considering many people said that it was a natural instinct to fight. "What do you mean?"
"Look at us. We're soft and weak, and aren't born with any of the weapons nature gives to its other children. If you think about it, it seems pretty clear the gods made us not to fight."
"But we fight anyway. And it's the natural, primal emotion of rage that usually drives us to do so, right?"
Gary frowned. "I've asked that question myself a few times. What you say's true, and we do seem to be born with the capacity to seek others' harm. But we weren't given the same methods of destruction as other creatures, and have been forced to create our own. I think maybe we were intended to bring about violence's end, only to be made somewhat imperfectly with a continued will to fight. But we can strive to avoid that temptation, and in doing so become the beings we were meant to be."
Rose liked that idea, but as she pondered it she had a scary thought. What if instead, humans were made to fight, and in place of the natural weapons Gary said they lacked, they had been given a far more potent instrument of destruction—their minds?
Chapter 8
The week until their trip passed slowly for Rose, as the Whitestones continued to give the Dunwal needy their aid. She took less pleasure now in her work than she had before, ever thinking about the violence that could yet come. She still couldn't decide what she would do if she found herself in the close vicinity of a battle in Jugeld. But she knew she wouldn't have such a problem when she was there, even if she made the wrong choice whatever that could be. She would never put off a decision until there was no point, ever again.
"You ready for the big trip?" Ethan asked the night before their departure from Dunwal.
"You know I am." She was going to keep her sword close by her side.
When she came downstairs in chain mail with her sword and shield hanging from her broad back, the rest of the Whitestones stared. "What are you, our bodyguard?" Brian asked.
"I'm ready for trouble, that's all."
They departed in their large wagons full of preserved food, clothing, and medical supplies, and day after day Rose found herself the object of suspicious looks from the people she had come to regard as friends. She knew exactly what it was she was doing to make them view her this way, but kept doing it. She would rather be alienated than let anyone she cared about die.
She was lying on the grass glumly watching the cloudy sky when Ethan sat next to her, put a hand on her mailed shoulder, and smiled. "You're as stubborn as a mule."
"If none of the rest of you are going to protect yourselves, who will?"
"There are soldiers at the bases where we're going to help the refugees. You know that."
"But there's no one here, Ethan. You didn't bring any guards, but me."
"What could happen?"
"Bandits. Monsters. Raiders who got past the border."
"You shouldn't worry so much, Rose. It's not good for the mind."
"Stop treating me like a little child. It'll be good for my mind to be alive."
"Sorry. I just don't think all this worry is necessary. We're a pretty big group, and I don't think most people would try and attack us."
"That's true. But anything's possible, and if you do get attacked, you're not going to fight. And bandits don't negotiate, or if they do, it won't be your idea of the word. You wouldn't want them to have their way."
"Now you're the one treating me like a babe. Don't you think I know that? I haven't had a perfect life. But we've got to have faith."
Rose touched her sword hilt. She did have faith—in herself, and the strength of her arm. Ideals were nice, but they wouldn't keep the bad things away.
#
It was about three days from their destination that they first encountered face to face the consequences of the border conflict. A wagon drawn by a pair of mules appeared before them, its driver a woman with bewildered eyes and a number of children at her back. Five, Rose counted. One, a boy of about seven, lay limply in the wagon, his face pale and arm wrapped in a blood-darkened bandage. There was no father in sight.
As the wagons closed, Ethan asked, "Does anyone need help here? Your son—is he all right?"
"He's injured, but we've treated his wound. He should be fine."
He didn't look fine. "Let us check his arm," Rose said. "It might not be healing right."
The mother nodded stiffly, and Rose unwrapped the bindings to find a gruesome sight. The boy's lower forearm had already grown black with gangrene. "Gods—when did this injury happen?"
Staring in horror at her son's dead limb, the woman choked out, "I-it happened over a week ago. He was cut while we were running from the men who killed his father; it was a small wound, and I didn't think enough of it to check in my grief. What do we do?"
Rose couldn't answer, but Ethan said, "We'll have to amputate, to save his life."
The mother began to cry, and the sick boy, who Rose knew might well die, asked weakly, "What's wrong, mommy?"
"They're going to make you better."
"So you're crying happy tears? That's good. I haven't been feeling good this week."
Close to crying herself, Rose made a flame with which to heat her sword while Ethan gave the boy some herbs for the pain, which would not nearly be enough. Unfortunately, Rose was one of the least squeamish of the Whitestones when it came down to it, and the most precise with the blade. With a mighty chop, she removed the boy's arm right above the elbow, making sure to get rid of all the tainted flesh. He screamed once and fainted.
"Will he be all right?" his mother asked. "No, of course he's won't. He's a cripple for life..."
"He's alive," Ethan tried to comfort her. They gave the family some food and more medicine for the injured boy, and went on their way.
The incident changed Rose's outlook on the Volstonian invaders, and not in a way Ethan would have liked. She had already been partial to the idea of fighting back before, but only in a theoretical sense, having never met her enemy. But after seeing the results of their aggression on fellow and innocent Kaylanders, she was more sure tha
n ever she would have to fight. The only doubt that remained was how she was going to do it and preserve her relationship with her new friends, and love, in the meantime.
#
They soon arrived at the fort of Geben, where many refugees from the villages near the border had come to take shelter. For a few days Rose simply went along with her companions' efforts, giving the injured what help they could. For now, they didn't have to give out their food, as there was enough in the fort itself. Then, they heard of a raider sighting near the town of Linel to the east, and Rose suggested that they go.
"Why?" Ethan asked her. "There's nothing much for us to do there, considering the raiders haven't arrived yet. We don't even know if they'll attack the place or not."
"No, but we can be ready if they do."
"They've already sent troops to help guard the town against invasion. Come on, Rose. You joined us knowing we didn't mean to fight, so don't give me this nonsense now."
"It's not nonsense. I want to help."
"We are helping."
She paused, and took a few seconds to put her finger on what she really meant. "I don't just want to help the victims, after the fact. I'd rather make it so that there don't have to be as many victims, at all."
Ethan smiled, and she realized he found her desires admirable. "That's not for us," he argued with less conviction than before.
"You saw that boy. Do you think he'd be better as he is now, alive"—she wasn't even sure if he was still alive, as he might have died anyway—"and with one arm, or alive with a father and both arms?"
"It's not what we do."
"Why?"
"You know why. By not making war, we remain pure, so that others may see the light." He paused. "And also in tribute to my father."
And maybe that was the real reason after all. "But it's what I do."
"Not now."
She turned away, blinking tears of frustration from her eyes. She really thought it would be the right thing to do, to go and help in the fight against the Volstonian raids. But she wasn't ready to risk breaking her Whitestone ties quite yet, and waited in misery for the dreaded news sure to come of the suffering she'd failed to stop.
