Razorland Book 3 - Page 48

“Head for the market,” Morrow said, pointing. “It’s straight down that way. I need to find my father and arrange accommodations. We have an inn for travelers, but it’s not big enough to house everyone.”

“You heard the man.”

I led the way and the villagers seemed interested to see so many armed soldiers marching through their square, but not alarmed by it, possibly because they recognized Morrow. If not, they were the last trusting souls left in the world, and I would die happily to protect them. Along the way, Company D took in the sights, and I felt overwhelmed. It was so hard to imagine that the end of everything was camped across the river.

Down the street, the market was busy and colorful with stalls selling all manner of things. The vendors brightened when they spotted us; they’d be disappointed when they discovered we had no local currency. But we all enjoyed examining what they had to sell: grilled fish folded in flat bread, wood and bone carvings, hooks that I imagined were best used for fishing, bolts of fabric dyed in bold, bright patterns, ready-made clothes and shoes. The thing I noticed first—there were no weapons, just knives I guessed were used for eating.

What’s it like to be born in a place where the people don’t need to be armed?

I understood more about Morrow’s odd fighting style, why it seemed more ceremonial and graceful than the purposeful killing the rest of us had learned. He came from a village where they fought for sport and to show athletic prowess, not for their lives. It was a distinction I’d never conceived until this moment.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Tully’s normally hard expression gave way to awe as she gazed around. I couldn’t ever remember seeing her without her lips pulled into a taut line, expecting the worst. But she was smiling now.

“We could just stay,” Spence whispered.

I wished the thought hadn’t occurred to me too. We could all be happy here, and the island was big enough that the village could expand. Trees could be felled to make room and Morrow had told me there was a quarry on the far end of the island where they dug their stones for the cottages. We could all plant gardens and fish in the river, learn to build boats and carve things out of wood and paint the clay tiles on our houses.

But Tully was a stronger woman than I was. She shook her head. “I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it, knowing I let everyone else die. I’m in this fight to the end.”

With those words, she sealed my fate. I turned to find Fade watching me. He read the renewed commitment in my eyes, and for a few seconds, sorrow darkened his. Sometimes I suspected he wished I would turn away, choose a different path, but like Tully, it would haunt me if I just gave up. Momma Oaks and Edmund were in Soldier’s Pond; they had given me a home in Salvation, and I wouldn’t rest until I could offer them the same.

Aloud, Fade only said, “It’s beautiful here.”

I nodded.

And when Morrow returned with his father, a lean older man with gray-shot dark hair and silver temples, I said softly, “I will never understand why you left.”

Reunion

The logistics took several hours to sort out.

First Morrow introduced us to his father, Geoffrey, the governor of the Evergreen Isle. Then there were a number of pertinent questions, like, “What the devil do you mean by arriving with a small army?”

At that point, I explained about the horde on the other side of the river and the governor paled. “You brought them here?”

“Not on purpose,” Morrow said. “But they would have come eventually, Father. Somehow I don’t think you want to be the last settlement standing.”

“Not at all,” his father said soberly.

The older man sprang into action then, organizing the hospitality for his unexpected guests. He sent runners all through the village, seeking volunteers to host a soldier or two. Soon the replies came back positive. So many people were willing to help, no questions asked, and it told me I was right about the spirit of this place. When the families came to show the men to their temporary homes, they glanced at me for permission.

“Go ahead. I’ll send a message if I need you to a.s.semble.”

One of the men asked, “Should we treat this as leave time, captain?”

I nodded. “That’s fine. Be respectful to the locals.”

It was an unnecessary request; Company D was full of honorable soldiers, who would remember their manners and be thankful for the kindness offered. Before I got my house a.s.signment, however, Fade stepped closer, making it clear we wouldn’t be separated. Tully and Spence had the same idea, and I think Morrow wished Tegan would look at him the same way, but she had wandered off to admire the bone carvings at a nearby stall. I went over to see what had caught her eye and Fade followed, a quiet shadow at my back.

“It’s called scrimshaw,” the vendor informed her. “My daddy taught me, his before, and so on. We’ve been working at this craft for a long time.”

Tegan touched a gracefully carved spine. “What is this?”

“It’s a dolphin, miss. You find them in the open sea. In good weather, the sailors head that way.” The man leaned forward in a confiding manner. “I went on a whaling voyage once. Never was so scared in all my life.”

“I’d love to see it all someday,” she said dreamily.

That was where she differed from me. With this war behind us, I could see myself happy here and never wanting anything more. But Tegan had a big, hungry mind that soaked life in like a sponge. She was the smartest person I’d ever met … and one of the strongest. She was also pretty as a spring day with her dark hair and coppery skin, her big brown eyes and her sweet smile. The vendor was clearly charmed as he pressed the carved bone dolphin into her hands.

“It’s a gift. Keep it.”

“I couldn’t.” But her fingers were already curving around the pretty thing.

“She has great skill at doctoring,” I told the man. “If you need any help while we’re here, she’ll be glad to tend you or your loved ones.”

Tegan gave a grateful nod. I knew her well enough to understand that she’d love to keep the carving, but she didn’t feel right about offering nothing in return. This let her salvage her pride and for the vendor to enjoy the generosity of his gesture. I stepped away from the stall to let them continue their conversation, and as I moved off, I heard her asking about whales.

A few minutes more wouldn’t hurt anything, I decided. So I pa.s.sed among the stalls, admiring the shiny items. One woman made adornments like the necklace I had borrowed from Momma Oaks—and all of them glimmered in the sun. I touched a short coil of silver wire, interspersed with brilliant stones.

“That’s a beautiful bracelet,” the vendor noted. “It would look lovely on you.”

Fade murmured agreement, something about it being perfect for my wrist. That was his way of telling me what I was supposed to do with it; I didn’t know whether he’d noticed my weakness for sparkly things. I smiled, aware I had no chits to buy it. But I wanted to. Quietly wishing I could, I turned away to find the governor, as I’d wandered off before he could tell Fade and me where we’d be sleeping. My clothes were sticky and uncomfortable, and I hoped our hosts would be kind enough to let me bathe. It was surprising how awful river water felt, drying inside your shirt. From across the market, someone shouted my name.

I knew that voice—knew it—but it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t. I broke away from Fade on a burst of impossible hope. I shoved through the crowd, running, because I heard it again.

“Deuce. Deuce!”

Then I saw him. Stone was tan, like the rest of Rosemere, and his shoulders seemed even broader. He carried a small boy on them, striding toward me with an eager expression. In the Rosemere sunlight, his blue eyes shone brighter, contrasting with his mop of brown hair. Carefully, he set the brat down and then he swept me into a tight hug, smashing all the breath out of me. He’d always been as exuberant as a puppy, unconscious of his own strength.

Telling the boy, “Don’t move, Robin,” he spun me around until the market was a blur around me, just movement and color and my stomach felt sick, but on top of everything, I knew only the fiercest and most incredible joy, as if a secret wish had come true.

“Is Thimble with you?” I asked, hardly daring to hope. She’d been one of my closest friends in the enclave, a Builder who was always inventing clever things.

Stone nodded. “She’s at home. I came to offer our loft when I heard there were soldiers in need of shelter. I never dreamed I’d be lucky enough to find you.”

He let me go long enough to pick up the boy gazing up at me with huge blue eyes. Close up, I noticed the resemblance to my brat-mate, who had been a Breeder down below. “Yours?”

Stone’s look turned shy as he cradled the child closer. “Yes.”

“How in the world did you end up here?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s quite a story, an adventure you might even say.” His handsome face turned serious. “Along the way I wasn’t sure we’d survive, but Thimble always figured it out. I’ll tell you everything over supper.”

Beside me, Fade cleared his throat, glancing between Stone and me. He didn’t say more, but I heard the unspoken question. Am I invited to this party? If he wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be going either.

“Do you remember Fade?”

“Of course. I don’t know if we ever talked down below.” Stone offered his hand, Topsider fashion, and they shook. “I’m Deuce’s friend. Or I was. I’m not sure how she feels about me now. I’ve figured she must hate me and wish me dead, if she survived.”

The pain and anger of his betrayal felt like a long time ago. So I joked, “If I’d known you were this resourceful, I’d have let you take your own punishment.”

He flinched. “I know. I’ve been wishing all this time that I could explain … and say I’m sorry. Come with me and give me that chance?”

“That sounds good,” I said.

I felt oddly lighthearted as I followed my old friend through Rosemere. Along the way, he greeted the villagers, and a number of them had small gifts and smiles for the boy, who alternately giggled and tucked his face against Stone’s shoulder. He acted more like I’d seen topside sires behave with their brats than anything we’d learned down below, which meant he was better at adapting to circ.u.mstances than I had believed. Clearly I hadn’t given him enough credit when I martyred myself, thinking I was the only one strong enough to survive the exile.

More hubris, Mrs. James would say.

Stone and Thimble’s cottage was perfect, snug and small, built of the stone they quarried on the island and framed in raw timbers. Their roof was painted mossy green in contrast to the copper of their neighbors, and the front door stood open with my dear friend in the doorway. When she saw me, she dropped the box of tools she was holding and ran. Either her foot was better or she had crafted something to make it appear so because I hardly noticed her limp. We hugged tight and long; and the sun itself seemed to shine brighter, glowing on the white petals of the flowers growing in her window box.