Unnaturals (27 page)

"At what cost?"

"Cost? I wish I could tell you. Cost is not as simple as '
you give me some trinket, I give you money,
' like in your cities. We'll figure the cost out—in days, months, years—the gods only know when. Let's move you now. Nicolas wanted to keep you under the stars for some time, said you'd like this. It's warm enough, so why not. Though even if it weren't, it's not up to me to argue with him."

"You will all obey him now, no matter what?"

"All of us? Wish it were that easy, girl. But it never is."

Belinda and Mati moved her with a litter, and she fell asleep on the way, hating herself for her body's weakness. She should be up, with Nicolas, with her father, with whoever was changing the village. She wished she could change her body like she could change her computer. She wished her body
were
a computer.

But there were no computers here. The next morning Meliora learned that Nicolas had destroyed the few in the village—smashed them publicly. The "
devils
" from the temple, her computer and Mom's, Nicolas' own.

What was he
thinking?

She could walk today, and even open both eyes. Old Codes, Bel, and Mati brought her to the temple. Everyone was there, and chairs had been brought for the sick and injured like her. Old Reneta watched her with hatred. Old Carlos winked at her. Her father was standing in front of everyone, his face swollen, and he didn't meet her eyes even once.

Nicolas was at his side. He did look at her. Then the ceremony started. No one was sure what to expect, but obviously, there must be a ceremony.

Old Codes went in front and talked. The old chief had come to the village eleven years ago, she said, and had served it faithfully ever since. Five years as a woodsman, seven years as a chief, ever since the chief before him had gone into the embrace of the earth.

The chief was tired now, but he'd trained a good replacement. It was time for change. Time for a good, peaceful change.

"There can't be peaceful change while she is still sitting here, free and mighty!" Walter stood up, pointing at Meliora with a finger.

Suddenly Nicolas was before him. He didn't point with fingers. He pointed with a knife. With his other hand, he waved towards men to block the old chief's way.

Walter stopped only when the knife was touching his chest.

"You think it enough to smash the devils she brought with her? You think that gives her a right to sit in the holy temple? The old chief should have smashed her head! She calls herself priestess, but she goes out in full moon nights to bring devils with her! She made my wife die!"

"She tried to
save
your wife." The knife continued pointing. Meliora admired how still it was.

"Right she did! She wasn't even there when Melanie died! No, she sent devils to make my wife die! I've seen her! I've seen her type on that thing! She thought no one was looking, but you can't hide devils in this village!"

Walter, what devils? You came from Sylvanna, to the devils with you!

She tried to stand up, but someone caught her hand. It was Alice, her small son wrapped in her other arm.

"Shhhh," Alice whispered. "Don't you interfere now. This is men's stuff. You'll only make it worse. You don't trust me? But I want you to be alive and whole. I'll be having a new baby this winter."

"She made Lizzy die, too!"

"Really? If anyone made Lizzy die, Walter, it was you!" Meliora shouted. Alice or not, she could listen about devils all day, but she wouldn't tolerate
this.

Walter made a step back. Hadn't he at least known, the fool? Hadn't he known that Lizzy had loved him? It wasn't his fault that he'd loved another, truly. But he shouldn't have accused Mel.

The temple wasn't silent now. People were buzzing like a swarm of bees. Accusations, speculations. Mel saw old Codes open her mouth, but Nicolas raised a hand, just as his other arm encircled Mel's shoulders. He drew her to himself roughly.

"She didn't make anyone die," he said. "She tried to help, as much as she could—and if she couldn't do much and turned to devils in a vain attempt to find help, who can blame her? She's just a woman. She lacked a man's guidance. Her father, as we've established, needs to be retired and could not have provided it. She won't go near devils or healing any more. No woman will heal, except when allowed by the chief, and be certain I won't allow her. Back off, Walter, and leave my wife in peace!"

"Nicolas, have perhaps jackd—" She wanted to say "
have jackdaws drunk off your brain.
" But she couldn't say anything because his arm squeezed her more tightly and he silenced her with a kiss. In front of everyone. His other hand still held the knife.

Someone laughed. Just like that. Others followed—few enough, yet enough to lower the tension a bit. Meliora finally caught her father's eyes. A few moments ago, he'd been trying to break away from those holding him. They had even stuffed a cloth into his mouth. Now, he seemed all right.

Madmen, all of them. With a few sentences, the young chief had dismissed everything she'd done for the village, and made the position of women worse. And it had been bad—just look at Lizzy. And now, if all that stuff about depending on men's guidance was true—wow, what a village it would be with all the capable men to guide it. She was so glad she'd saved old Carlos. He must be the only man in the village with brains in his head.

The ceremony ended. It seemed almost normal from that point on—except that old Codes stopped talking, the woman that she was, and Meliora's man said that jars would no longer be harvested. People would do without jars and without canning. They'd be drying meat and fruit and vegetables like the gods themselves had done. There were no jars mentioned in the Book, Nicolas said.

Meliora felt like screaming. The new chief held her by his side throughout his speech, and she held his arm in turn. She squeezed it so hard that she noticed him clench his teeth, but otherwise he bore it without signs of discomfort.

Nicolas made her father the head woodcutter and furniture maker. Yes, it would do her father good to do something with his hands. He'd been the head woodcutter before he'd become the chief. As for Nicolas calling her his wife—normally for people in the village to be married, they had to exchange vows and the chief had to say a few words in the temple. Mel and Nicolas exchanged no vows, but Nicolas was the chief, and people seemed to consider his words enough in this case.

But they can't play with my life like this
.

Can they
?

The gathering ended and people went to work. Meliora noticed each group of workers was slightly different from before. Each included someone Nicolas trusted.

She let go of his arm just as old Carlos passed them by. The old man seemed to be very well, Mel was glad to see.

"You squeeze him, girl." He winked at her. "You squeeze him hard. He'll come to heel. And you don't wince like this, boy. You smile at your wifey now. You're lucky. Were it, say, ten to twenty years ago—oh, well, fifty or sixty years ago, all right—I'd take her from you!"

Nicolas actually narrowed his eyes and put his arm around her again. She wanted to kick him.

Her father passed her by without saying a word. She watched his back retreat and suddenly felt so small, just a little girl whose Daddy was going to the Academy again and wouldn't take her with him.

"Not yet, Mel," he'd say. "One day. One day for certain."

And then we came here. You and I both. Of all the places in this world, we came here
!

She didn't even notice the tear on her bruised cheek before Nicolas brushed it away.

She winced. That cheek still hurt. His hand dropped. A moment later, Belinda was by her side.

"Mel," she said. "Come with me first, you need your—Ah." She looked at Nicolas, meeting his eyes. "Chief," she said. "Mel needs her clothes and some—other things. You must—Ah. May I talk to her before she leaves with you?"

May I.
But of course. He'd said women needed guidance. Belle's face was serene.

"Fine. You have an hour. You're both to go to Mistress Codes' cottage and not go anywhere else. Meanwhile Patrick—hey, Patrick!—will wait outside the door, in case you need something. I'll come for my wife in an hour."

"Thank you."

Had Belinda just thanked him for putting a prison guard before her house?

Meliora continued to keep her mouth shut. For now. She thought that if she didn't, there would be train crashes.

Belle put an arm around her shoulders, helping her walk. Once inside Mistress Codes' cottage, half of the serenity on her face faded. The rest stuck there, stubbornly, as she gathered Mel's clothes into a sack.

"Belle, I am not moving in with him. This is madness—"

Belle said nothing, just continued gathering clothes and plates and knives. "You need dishes and cutlery. I am not sure what he has in that house of his."

"Belle, you haven't gone deaf, I am sure."

Belinda went to the medicine chest. "You will need some of these. There." She gathered some leaves. "Do you know what these are for? You and I haven't had much chance to use them as healers, considering that our tasks have been grimmer—they are to aid conception."

"Belinda—"

"—and be careful whenever you go pick them in the field. They look very much like these"—She took a handful of other leaves—"which are sleep and appeasement medicine. This—we don't use it much. It's very strong. Works even on the horses. They won't kick or bite at all, but they grow confused. As for people, very careful, a tiny bit goes a long way. A bit more—and it can kill or damage a mind.
Make sure
you don't confuse the leaves. But, of course, you won't go picking any leaves at all. You're the chief's wife, and you will be good." Belle opened her palm over the pile of leaves she'd already gathered.

The new leaves mixed in right with the rest. They did look alike. You must be good with herbs in order to distinguish them.

"Right. Now you're fully equipped to go to your new home." That was old Codes' voice. Yet again, the hag had appeared silently.

"Mistress Codes, you at least must have something left in your brain! What is this all about!?"

Old Codes gave her a look. "You still have both of them.
That's
what it's all about! Now go to your husband."

"But I can't
go.
" Meliora actually smiled. "I have the husband I accidentally acquired to wait for. Can't go without his permission, you see. Meanwhile, why don't you give me the child I acquired just as accidentally? Where is my Lizzy? There is no way that idiot standing by the window can care for her. Her mother gave her
to me.
"

"There is no way
you
can care for her, city g—woman. Have your breasts milk? No? I thought so."

"I'll get goat milk."

"I've given her to Alice! I'll take her back some nights to check on her, and I'll take her back permanently only when—
if
—she makes it. I'd have given her to Arisa but Arisa's milk is already dry. You don't feed a sevenmonther with goat milk, you fool! You give her to a real mother and hope the gods let her live!"

"She'd live with me! Your gods have nothing to do with it!" Meliora was screaming, but she didn't care. She'd been quiet for long enough.

Bloodshed. Train crashes. For how long did the world think it could throw the same thing at her face? For how long did the world think she would just
take
it because something might break? Perhaps sometimes you needed to break in order to mend.

"I'm going to take my child, and don't you try to stop me, you old witch! And don't you try to hit me!" The old woman seemed to want to. "You don't want
bloodshed,
do you, you daft old hag whose life I could have let slip away only weeks ago! Don't you touch me! Don't any of you touch me any more! Don't any of you talk to me!"

Someone did touch her. She had sprinted towards the door and bumped straight into Nicolas. The one hour must be up. She tried to hit him, which he avoided, then gripped her arm and kicked the ground from under her feet, so that she'd fall. She didn't fall. He held her up. She thrashed in his arms, and a small part of her knew it was like the fight of a wounded animal caught in a hunter's snare. A useless fight—humans fought differently, humans knew better than that.

She didn't know better just now. She tried to hit him again, and on the third time she succeeded. Then, he hit her. Not much, just enough and in the right place to make her lose her balance again. Then, he was kissing her, and she fought that, too, even madder than before, because a part of her wanted this, even as she hated him from the bottom of her soul.

"Out," she heard his voice. "Go to my cottage, to the temple,
somewhere.
We are taking this house for today."

"No, chief, please, don't do this to her—" Mati, the sweet, good girl. Old Codes pressed a palm to her mouth, and the women scurried away. The door slammed behind them.

They left her. They just left her with him.

One of her hands was momentarily free. She grabbed the back of the chair closest to her and smashed the chair into his knees. One of his legs gave away. He fell to the floor, but he dragged her beside him. Some bone inside her clicked. At the next moment he'd scooped up her and yanked her to himself and pressed her to the floor with his own body. Her skirt had risen up, and one of his hands was on her ankle. It glided up to her knee, even as he kissed her throat and then her lips again. She screamed, but it came out muffled.

She'd seen a man do this to a woman without her agreement in the wonderful experiences. She'd hated it more than anything else there. So why did she respond to the kiss?

She didn't hit him again. There was no use. Instead, her right hand extended from under him and grappled a piece of the items Belinda had so thoughtfully prepared for her. All had spilled on the floor—knives, leaves, shards of broken plates.

There, this shard was sharp enough, and the leaf it had stabbed was the right leaf.