weeds cut short around the pearl apple trees. When they hit the first fork in the trail, he headed east. The eastern trail sloped to the south, and looped behind the fields. He wanted to keep an eye on things and he was prepared to send his brother on a few wild goose chases if he had to, to keep him safe.
___
Jelly, Forest and Narrow dug up potatoes and onions. The sun was barely up but it was already hot. It wasn’t long before a film of dirt settled on their sweaty faces.
Narrow peppered Jelly with questions about their journey. Jelly told him all about it; how Jones had gone ahead to the orchard and their surprise when he arrived back with Marvellous. She told him all she knew about the plants they’d brought back with them.
"I’ll dry most of it, for teas and medicines," she said. "I transplanted the ones we dug up into the herb garden when we got back yesterday."
Narrow exhausted his questions and they harvested and weeded in silence for a while. Forest had been quiet all morning. Minutes passed before Narrow stopped and straightened his back. He rubbed the dirt and sweat from his face with his shirt tail.
"What’s the point of all this? We don’t even know if we’re going to be here in a month."
"We still need to eat," said Jelly. "We can bring it with us."
"I’m not so sure I want to go," said Narrow. "Porkchop’s right. Pa should come here. There’s more food here and he wouldn’t have to work for the Landlord."
"What about Pater? And Marvellous?" Forest suddenly said. He hacked viciously at a weed and missed, slicing into his thumb instead. He yelped.
"Forest!" Jelly’s handkerchief was already out and she wrapped it tightly around his thumb. "Are you okay?"
No I’m not okay, he thought. Don’t you feel it? He winced as sudden pain shot through his head.
"Yes, fine. Just clumsy."
He took several deep breaths as he allowed his sister to inspect the wound. She reached inside her shirt pocket and took out a clean cloth. She handed it to Narrow and told him to soak it in the creek and bring it back. She looked at the cut, decided it didn’t need stitches then covered it with the handkerchief again.
"Here, hold onto it like this," she said and put his thumb on top of the cloth and pressed down lightly.
She scurried away and crouched down between a row of carrots and onions to pick something. She returned with a fistful of oregano as Narrow came back with the cloth. Jelly rung it out, took the handkerchief from Forest and gently daubed the damp cloth on the wound. She blew on it to dry it then took the oregano and ground it between her two palms. When it had turned to paste in her hands she scooped some on a finger and dabbed it along the cut. She wrapped up the wound with the clean end of the cloth.
Forest concentrated on the feeling the pulse his thumb made as it throbbed. It made the throbbing in his head stop.
___
Pater rolled off his bed onto the floor and groaned. He crawled toward the kitchen table and used it to steady himself as he stood up. His mouth felt horrible and his bowels were aching for attention but he caught sight of the tea jars and the food. One of the jars was almost empty so he clawed at the lid of the other one till he got it open then swallowed half of it in one gulp. He grabbed the tub of porridge and used his fingers to shovel it into his mouth.
He’d spent most of the night at his still on the far side of Honey Hill, stumbling back to the farm in the dark well after the moon had set. His original plan — to return to the lookout post the next day to see if the Landlord had left — had deserted him after a few drinks. He was hungry. All he wanted was to go back to his bed and eat and sleep.
His intestines gurgled impatiently. They wouldn’t wait much longer. He grabbed the tea jar and two hard biscuits and scurried to the outhouse.
Behind the curtain, Titania lay in a deep sleep.
___
After a later breakfast than PC Pierre was used to, he harnessed Josephine to the cart. The Landlord was still washing up inside. He had slept well past dawn and into the middle of the morning.
The Landlord finally finished his toilette and emerged from the cabin. He hopped into the front seat of the wagon and sat down. PC Pierre got a whiff of whiskey, as did Josephine who shook her head back and forth.
"You'll be upwind most of the way, Josie," he whispered in her ear.
"Let’s get this pony trap of yours going."
"I’ve seen to Jonathan, sir," said the Constable, adjusting the straps of Josephine’s harness as she took the extra weight.
"Oh, good. Thank you, Pierre."
The Constable took his seat beside the Landlord and heeyapped to Josephine. Slowly, she plodded forward.
___
Hap sat on the edge of the cliff and watched as the sun rose behind him and light up the valley below. He had been up for an hour already watching for Marvellous to return but she hadn’t.
It took some doing but Hap managed to lower the bicycle down the cliff edge on a rope. He immediately spotted the route she’d taken; the narrow trail snaked through tall grasses and wildflowers.
___
Porkchop carried Mixer across the yard and handed him over to Santa without saying a word. She disappeared into the loft.
After his successful contact with the Landlord last night Mixer had gone from brother to sister, slipping into their thoughts and checking for potential problems. As Mixer suspected, Forest’s subconscious had already registered the storm brewing and planned to alert Porkchop in the morning. Mixer tied his brother’s thoughts to pain, using the images of the storm against him. Forest’s mind threw out pictures of grey and black clouds, hail stones the size of onions, and funnel clouds that could gouge great holes from the ground and fling the debris far and wide. When Forest’s mind threw out a lightning bolt, Mixer was ready with a bolt of pain. Forest flinched in his sleep. Mixer tested him twice more to make sure he got the message.
Narrow and the twins posed no threat. Nor did Santa. Jones could kill animals but he doubted he could kill a person. Besides, he and Bull would be off hunting somewhere.
Santa sat him at the table with a bowl of porridge, a small cup of lukewarm tea and a hard biscuit. He was hungry but forced himself to eat slowly and deliberately. When he was halfway through his meal he reached out to find the Landlord again. He was awake but appeared to be still in the Constable’s cabin.
Santa puttered, preoccupying her thoughts with a rota of chores. As Mixer ate, she sat down at the table and cleaned the heavy frying pan. Mixer had to sit on his knees to reach the table and even then he had trouble dipping the biscuit in his tea.
Mixer, regardless of what Marvellous thought he was capable of, was her brother and she loved him. She knew she was the only one in her family who did; the others tolerated him and would protect him out of duty, but they did not love him. Santa knew that there wasn’t much to love about Mixer; he was unpleasant most of the time. But he also hadn’t had the benefit of two parents for as long as the rest of them and she wondered if that made any difference.
Ma had always told them not to show off what they could do, even to each other. She’d been a good parent, but not a loving one. Pa had tried to be loving but was often foiled by Ma who thought that being soft would ruin them. But now, Pa was back. He loved Mixer, she was sure of it. And he did look funny with his tea and biscuit, so absorbed. Pa would get a kick out of that, she thought. She smiled as she seasoned the pan with deer fat.
Mixer gently tilted the cup towards him and dunked half of the biscuit in, long enough for it to soften up, shook off the excess tea and brought it to his mouth. He nibbled off the soft bit then redunked the biscuit to soften it some more. He could feel Santa thinking about him but it was in that benign way she had. He ignored her, chewed and concentrated on Porkchop. He could hear her moving around in the loft and tried to reach out to her but found nothing but boot leather.
Porkchop sat on one of the hay bales in the loft and stared at her boots. Her eyes started to glaze over in a fu
zzy haze and she realized that she had an image of Pierre in her head. She pushed it aside with a violent shake of her head. She reached down under the hay and fished for the knife. She put it in her pocket and climbed down the ladder.
___
"Can’t this damned donkey of yours go any faster?"
"She’s a mule sir. She had a long journey from Battery the other day. I don’t want to ride her too hard."
"I should have taken Jonathan."
"Then he’d be tired for the trip back to Battery."
The Landlord harrumphed. At this pace there wouldn’t be time to start for Battery anyway, regardless of how well rested Jonathan was.
Oh well, he thought, staying another night with Pierre is a small price to pay if all goes well. In return for taking the children off his hands, the Landlord hoped the old man would see reason and offer something in return.
He was sweating in the hot sun. He took his flask from his jacket pocket and swished the alcohol around in his mouth before swallowing it. He thought of the blonde one; he didn’t know her name — he’d never bothered to learn any of their names — but she had come to him in his sleep again last night. He thought about the old man. He hoped he’d see a fair deal when it was offered to him. If not, there were ways to make him see.
"We’ll be there soon."
Josephine continued to plod along. She pricked up her ears when she heard a rumble, far off and too low for the Constable to hear. Her nostrils opened wide. Her already