“He say they can fix your hip … like new,” said Bimji.
“It’s true,” said Frank. “Doesn’t even have to be so invasive anymore. Just a small incision.”
“Cutting bones is not invasive? Since when?” She grimaced. “Maybe … when it’s not your bones being cut.”
“But it works,” said Frank. “It helps people walk again who were even worse shape than you … I mean wheelchair-bound.”
“Is that the best persuasion you can muster?” said Liz. “This crowd has threatened me with physical harm if I don’t take up your offer.”
Frank detected the change in Liz’s tone, but his spirit was too beaten down to perceive any reason for optimism.
“Tezhay says we should get going soon,” said Frank. “Those of us who want to reach the convergence in time. So I came to say good bye.”
“Goodbye?” said Liz. “We’re going with you, fool.”
“With me? To Ur?” Electricity tingled through Frank. “Who—?”
“All of us,” said Liz. “Me and Bimji and Tom, we’re too weak or sickly to fight. The only decent fighters left among us are Ellie and Misty, and we need them to be body guards.”
“Hey, what about me?” said Miles.
“You’re useless without that gun, boy,” said Liz. “I’d bet my girls are quicker with a blade, straighter with an arrow.”
Frank was thrilled about having Liz accompany them. It was beyond what he dared pray for.
Something whooshed through the air and crunched against wood. Shouts and screams sounded down the lane.
“Shit! That sounded like one of my sheds,” said Liz, bolting upright and stumbling, almost falling before she reached the door. Frank steadied her with a hand on her elbow and a palm against her back.
The clan rushed out to the front of the house. A boulder from a Venep’o catapult had toppled the rickety barn where Tezhay and Frank had made their beds.
“Tezhay!” said Frank, rushing down the lane. He pushed his way to a crowd of soldiers picking through the shattered timbers to free someone trapped beneath. Frank spotted Tezhay looking on beside a group of soldiers with bedrolls and satchels on their backs.
“Jesus!” said Frank. “I thought you were in there.”
“You ready for go?” said Tezhay.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Frank.
“Just you and Miles?”
“No,” said Frank. “Everybody.”
“What? How many?”
“Seven,” said Liz, coming alongside Frank. “And this thing better be for real. I’m not dragging my lame ass up that mountain for some make-believe pixie dust.”
“Is real,” said Tezhay. “Seven is … not too much, I suppose for such a big convergence. You should go now. No wait. Because fire is coming next.” He gazed down into the forest, where the axes had been ringing incessantly day and night. “I will show you the way.”
***
The farm’s few donkeys and mules were already loaded up with supplies, so everyone in the traveling party had to carry their own belongings, pared down to the few items they deemed utterly essential. Ellie carried three long bows and a legless armless doll with hair of milkweed silk. Tom carried the drone mandolin and a sack full of olive pits and apple seeds. Liz had only her staff and a bag stuffed with homespun baby clothes; Bimji, just the clothes on his back. Miles and Misty led the way, queued behind a forward contingent of Feril’s militia fighters. The cliffs were manned only by villagers now, who had already repulsed several probing attacks. Tezhay had instructed them to retreat once the main body had left the vale.
Liz confronted Tezhay as he passed her on the lane. “You’re telling me … this convergence thing has been in my own backyard … for how long?”
“This one? Generations,” said Tezhay. “Two. Maybe three.”
“Gawd!” said Liz, her face flushing.
“What’s it like … this door?” said Ellie.
“It’s a bit scary looking,” said Frank. “But nothing to be afraid of. I’ve been through one … twice … no, three times. It’s a bit disorienting. No worse than a roller coaster.”
“A what?” said Ellie.
“Is like cart going downhill very fast with no mules,” said Tezhay.
“Lovely,” said Liz. “Just what my poor little hip needs.”
“You have less than one day,” said Tezhay. “But still plenty time. Good hip or bad hip. Even if you have to rest. Even if you must to carry her.”
“You’ll … show us the way?” said Frank.
“I will not be joining you,” said Tezhay. Frank had never seen him look so grim. “I can tell you how to find, but I ask that you not share this knowledge. You must never bring anyone back this way. Can you promise this?”
“Sure,” said Frank, and there was nodding and grunting all around.
“You know, in the high meadow, the cottage near the cache, yes?” said Tezhay. “From there you must climb higher to the passes to the west of the big mountain. You will take the taller one, farthest to west. Near the top is cliff with a small lake at the bottom. You will find this xenolith among the stones that fall from this cliff, above lake shore.”
“Whoo-hoo! Let’s go people,” said Miles. “Less than a day, as the man says.” He picked up his pace and pulled ahead of the others.
“This is just too surreal,” said Liz. “I thought I had left that other world behind … permanently. It was … gone … wiped from all possibility, forever.”
“It’s still there, Liz,” said Frank. “And still attainable.”
“But how can I leave this place?” she said. “Everything … everyone I know and love is right here.”
“Some of them are going with you,” said Frank. “And besides, there are people and places you loved just as much in that world. You’ve just been away so long, you’ve just forgotten.”
“But who’s going to mind my farm?” said Liz.
Frank shook his head. “I never imagined I’d hear you say such a thing. I used to kid you mercilessly about being such a city girl.”
“What farm?” said Tezhay. “When Venep’o finish. There will be no farm.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” said Liz.
“It is true,” said Tezhay. “It is what they do.”
“Well, they can’t spoil the land. This land … the vale will still be here.”
“And a colonist from Venen will be here, growing wheat,” said Tezhay.
Frank could tell from the look on Liz’s face that Tezhay was one negative remark away from a beating. She restrained herself, pausing at the end of the graded lane to gaze back down past the buildings and terraces of Lizbet’s farm.
Another catapult-flung boulder crashed and bounced across a field, tearing massive divots in the young beets. There was a commotion down by the cliffs. Arrows flew from the bows of villagers supplemented by short bursts of rifle fire from Tezhay’s volunteers.
“So when do you suppose the big attack will come?” said Liz.
“What you mean, when?” said Tezhay. “It already comes. And they will have scouts in the hills, patrols. You must take care. Be ready to fight.”
“Marvelous,” said Liz, grimacing as she swung her bad leg over the curb stone at the end of the lane. “Just marvelous.”
Chapter 50: Mutiny
Daraken’s healer sequestered Ara and Seor in a curtained-off compartment in back of his infirmary, hauling in a pair of well-cushioned sleeping mats and bedding. Captain Esayos brought in a set of used but clean clothes to replace Seor’s torn and filthy hospital gown.
Ara kept on what she already wore, but her eyes gravitated towards a small collection of weapons stashed in a corner.
Esayos noticed her staring. “Need a blade? Go ahead, take one,” he said. “It’s just standard Provincial issue gear. Nothing special. We passed his good bow and sword on to his comrades.”
“Thank you. I feel naked without a good blade … or anything,” said Ara, sheepishly. She cho
se a modest dagger and a sheath.
“Seor?”
“No thank you,” said Seor.
“Fever claimed the man who owned these,” said Esayos. “But we’ve been lucky, Nearly all of us have had it, but most have recovered. Other units have been hit much harder.”
Daraken arranged for his galley cook to bring a tray bearing some of the few delicacies their encampment could boast: some basil chutney hoarded from Sesei, pickled wild horseradish, spiced goose liver in oil along with some hard biscuits to eat them with, not the type of fare they hauled out for just any passersby.
Ara was taken aback by the excess of their hospitality, not at all the treatment she would have expected for a pair of outlaws. Suspicious, she remained watchful for signs of deception, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Could all of this attention be due solely to Seor’s celebrity? Ara had no idea that she had been such a war hero. In all of their time together, Seor had never spoken of her deeds in the war. Esayos had to describe what had happened at the Battle of Croega, how Seor had salvaged a fighting retreat from a complete encirclement by Venep’o shock troops intent on extermination. What’s more, she was not even an officer at the time. She automatically took charge when both of her Captains were killed.
Seor took no part in the conversation. All she wanted to do was sleep. Ara and Captain Esayos snuffed the candles and retreated to the fire pit at the center of the compound, where Captain Daraken came to join them.
Ara shrouded her face from the fighters who came meandering by, keeping her voice low, fearing that some soldier might recognize her and report her presence to Commander Ingar.
“You don’t have to worry,” said Esayos. “Here, you are among friends.”
“I’d feel safer if we went inside,” said Ara.
“What Esayos is trying to tell you ….” said Daraken. “You are in good hands here. Our company has the worst record for reprimands in the camp. We’re the bad children of the Second Expeditionary. We know what it’s like to be on the wrong side of Ingar … and Baren.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” said Ara. “Sounds to me like you have targets on your backs.”
“Ingar doesn’t dare enforce his edicts,” said Daraken. “There are too many other militias who feel the way we do.”
“You’ll have to pardon my nerves,” said Ara. “I never intended to return to Gi. But I was forced to when Baas—”
“Baas?” said Esayos. “Our Baas?”
“Yes. He attacked us when—”
“That man assaulting you was Comrade Baas?” said Daraken. “Baasenborqil?”
“You were at the convergence,” said Ara. “Did you not see him?”
“I saw an elbow and a knee,” said Daraken. “I had no idea they belonged to Baas. Was … Baren with him?”
“Baren is dead,” said Ara. “And so are the others. Baas and I are all that’s left of the escort party.”
Daraken’s gaze went soft. “A shame,” he said. “We had our differences, but he was a decent soul.”
“So you see what this means,” said Ara. “I can’t cross back to Ur. I can’t even remain in this camp. I’m certain Baas is waiting to cross over and hunt us down at the next convergence.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Daraken. “What exactly did you do to incur Baas’ wrath?”
Ara took a deep breath. “Seor’s group, with my … assistance … prevented the transfer of a xenolith to Venen. It was to be the linchpin of the peace treaty.”
Esayos traded a stunned glance with Daraken.
“They’re giving up our portals now?” said Daraken.
“You weren’t aware of this?” said Ara. “I would have thought Baren would have kept the militia leadership informed.”
“We had no idea,” said Daraken. “This is outrageous! We knew there were negotiations under way. But … giving away xenoliths? How could they do such a thing? Do the Philosophers know?”
“Now you see why I can’t be here when Baas returns,” said Ara.
Voices spilled across the compound from the gate.
“Someone’s coming,” said Ara, alarmed. She shot to her feet and looked towards the infirmary.
“It’s okay,” said Esayos. “Just friends.”
A small party of militia entered the compound. Ara squinted into the reflected glow of the fire light as they approached. Garoen, her former commander walked beside Sing, his top sergeant.
“You’ve gone and told people I am back?” said Ara. “Are you insane? Do you know how fast gossip travels around this camp?”
“Don’t worry,” said Daraken. “We were discrete. Just thought you might like to see some friendly faces.”
Garaoen and Sing came over and a hearty hug, not bothering with the cool formality of a shoulder bump.
“So glad to see you back so soon,” said Garoen.
“Well, don’t get used to it,” said Ara. “I won’t be sticking around.”
“You’re still worried about Baas?” said Daraken. “Don’t. We’ll protect you.”
“You can’t possibly,” said Ara, agitated. “He will go straight to Ingar.”
“Relax, comrade,” said Daraken. “We have days before the next passage. Let us see what we can work out. I will arrange an assembly of captains. Ingar, of course, has decreed against such meetings, but that hasn’t stopped us yet.”
“What’s this about … Baas?” said Garoen.
***
The morning chores were already underway. Voices bantered, pots clanked, carts trundled across bumpy ground. Ara lay still under her blanket, listening for signs that Ingar had found them out and had sent a security detail after them.
She had stayed up late at the fire pit, and now she regretted telling the others about her misadventures in attacking the Mercomar. They had reacted with amazement and good cheer, but Ara couldn’t help thinking that what she had shared sufficed to incriminate herself and all who harbored her to charges of sedition.
Seor groaned and shifted. She muttered something, half in dream.
“Seor? Are you awake?” said Ara.
“Who’s there?” said Seor. She lifted her head and opened her eyes, blinking rapidly, fearful. “Where am I?”
“You’re with me, Ara, in the camps, with a detachment of Suul militia.”
“Esayos,” said Seor.
“And Daraken.”
“Good,” said Seor. Her eyes grew wider, clearer. “That’s good.”
“How are you feeling?” said Ara.
“Hurts to move,” said Seor. “I’m hungry, though.”
“That’s good,” said Ara. “A good sign. Here, have some tea. It’s cold, but it’s good that you drink.” She helped Seor site up and passed her a mug.
“I’m sorry,” said Seor.
“For what?”
“For causing so much trouble for you,” said Seor.
“You’ve caused nothing,” said Ara. “This is my own doing. I chose this path.”
“Regrets?”
“Not for choosing this path,” said Ara. “For some mis-steps along the way, maybe.”
“Such is life,” said Seor, sipping her tea.
“We need to go soon,” said Ara. “Daraken’s offered to shelter us, but it’s not right to put him at such risk.
“Where would we go?” said Seor.
“I don’t know,” said Ara. “We could try and find what’s left of the others. Canu. Vul. Pari. Or … go off and try to find the First Cadre.”
Seor snorted and sprayed a mouthful of tea onto the dirt floor.
“Why do you laugh?” said Ara, puzzled by her reaction.
“That was supposed to be our mission,” said Seor. “We failed miserably. We only succeeded in getting lost and confused.”
“Well, I bet I could find them,” said Ara. “I speak good Giep’o. And the local farmers know a lot more than they show or share, until you get their confidence.”
“Don’t
think we didn’t try to do the same,” said Seor. “The Westerners are a reticent lot.”
“Regardless,” said Ara. “We have to leave the marshes.”
“You can go,” said Seor. “I’ll take my chances here.”
“But Baas will come after you. You know he will.”
“I like my odds better, this time around,” said Seor.
“He’ll have Ingar scouring the camp to find you. They’ll have Daraken and Esayos taken in and executed for harboring fugitives.”
“Maybe,” said Seor. “Maybe not. You can go if you wish. I’m staying.”
***
Seor and Ara sat together on stumps by the fire pit, dining on a breakfast of the starchy pith extracted from the shoots of a large-leafed herb that grew on the periphery of the marsh. The cook gave them each a large bowl, ladling gravy over the top.
Ara kept her eyes on the gate, ready with her dagger at any loud sound or sudden movement. She had already widened a hole in the fencing behind the infirmary in case they needed an escape route.
Esayos announced his entrance with a whistle. He took one step down onto the slant of clay and waved the women over.
“What’s wrong?” said Ara, helping Seor to her feet.
“Nothing’s wrong,” said Esayos. “I’m taking you to the assembly of captains. Daraken will meet us there. He’s still working the compounds, trying to get some of the shyer folk to attend. Some militias, we didn’t even bother with. They’re lost causes, but some are simply cautious about offending Ingar. They just need a little coaxing. But don’t worry. The place will be full, regardless.”
“Why do you need us to attend?” said Ara. “Is it really wise for us to be seen in public?”
“You’re the whole reason we’re holding this affair,” said Esayos. “Do you think all those captains would show up on short notice if it they knew it was to be me and Daraken jabbering at them again?”
“You want us … to speak?” Ara quailed at the thought of addressing a crowd of officers at an illicit assembly, all under Ingar’s nose.
Seor tapped her arm. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I can do the talking.”
“But you’re not … strong,” said Ara.
“Strong enough to speak,” said Seor.
Ara wrapped a scarf over her head and followed Esayos out of the compound. Seor didn’t have to worry as much about being recognized as she had never resided in this camp. Ara had taught Giep’o in every militia compound across the marshes and was known to many. If only she were Giep’o by marriage, she could have worn a veil.