Saba. Saba. Saba.
More new arrivals, says Auriel.
We stop. I squint aginst the sun, fierce an harsh. Down the far end of camp, a mulecart jolts to a halt. The driver sits there a long moment. Then she climbs out, stiff legged an clumsy. Them that’s nearby stir theirselfs to lend a hand. The lone passenger – looks to be a man – don’t move.
What’re they all doin here? I says.
They’re headed west, she says. They cain’t go back to New Eden an they cain’t stay here fer long. They’re on their way to the Big Water, to a better life. They’ve heard the stories – the good earth, the good air – jest like yer brother. That’s what they want too.
Not jest Lugh, I says. Him an me, we want the same.
Lugh dreams of a settled life, she says. He longs to plant hisself in one place, plant the land around him. His hands itch to work good earth, put food on the table that he’s grown hisself, raise children. That ain’t you. You cain’t be tied. You’ve gotta be free to soar. To fly.
She looks at me. At least, I think she does. She’s wearin a dark eyeshield. Any glint of light – the sun hittin water or metal in a certain way – it’s liable to set her off in a vision, so she’s gotta keep herself pertected. She waits. Like I oughta say somethin. Maybe I should. But I cain’t think why or what. I’m slow. Dull. My head’s still thick with the dreams of my night.
Auriel’s draped her shawl over her head. My eyes keep goin to it. It’s dark red. The colour of blood. The same as the one in my dream.
Somebody dead, laid out in the pit full length. The head’s bin wrapped in a dark red shawl.
I wish she’d take it off. The shades of the dead press on me. I don’t see ’em. But I feel ’em, so close around me I cain’t hardly breathe.
I dreamed of a old man, I says.
Yes, she says. Namid.
He gave me a bow, I says.
Yes, she says.
We pick our way down the camp, along the road between the shelters. The rain-churned earth’s dried into ruts ankle deep.
Her an me’s on walkabout. That’s what she calls it. She feels responsible fer these people. Lost souls, she calls ’em. She’s bin up since before dawn, talkin to the welcome committee an the privy detail an the health an death committee an who knows what else. She’s even thinkin she might lead everybody out west herself. She’s waitin fer a sign from the light, from her nature guides.
They need a leader, she says. These people ain’t like you, Saba. They’ve spent their lives in the dirt, cowerin at the feet of the strong. They believe it’s all they’re fit fer.
It’s a slow walkabout. Auriel’s a mighty wonder. They rush at her, to kiss her hands, to touch her tunic. She speaks to each one, askin about their child, their wife, the old woman they travelled with. Me, they only look at sidewise. Specially with Nero ridin my shoulder an Tracker by my side. But at least people ain’t holdin their charms aginst me today.
I look back. Lugh, Tommo an Em dog our footsteps, twenny paces or so behind. Auriel asked that they let her an me alone, but Lugh ain’t one to be told. He warned he’d be watchin her an he means it.
Not that there’s anythin to watch. The first thing I did today was ask her to git on with it. To gimme a potion or bleed me or read the stars or whatever it is she’s gotta do to fix me so’s we can git back on the road west. She said it don’t work that way. That I’ll know when I’m ready. After that, she wouldn’t say no more.
The next tent along on the right, two painted ladies sit out front, watchin the world go by. The younger one – plump as a pigeon – sits with her feet up, coaxin a rattly tune from the strings of a banjax. Her friend squats on a stool, her skirt hitched above her knees, smokin a pipe. She’s a handsome woman, loaded down with jangly bracelets an necklaces. There’s a ring on every toe an finger. Dozens of ’em in her ears too.
In their ragged finery they’re a strange sight among these worn-out dusty folk. Like colourful birds blown off course. Nero hops onto the pipe-smoker’s shoulder an starts pickin at her flounces.
Would you credit that, Meg? she says. He thinks I’m a crow.
Ferget the bird, Lilith. Unless my eyes deceive me, th’ Angel of Death has come to call. Meg lays her banjax aside. She sashays over, lookin me up an down, sayin, You’d be a big hit in our line of business, Angel.
She moves in so close that I can smell her. Sweat an sweetgrass. A big hit, she says. Mean . . . magnificent . . . a bit grubby. I seen you fight once. I still dream about it. She leans in. Her red painted lips brush mine. I always did wanna kiss a girl with a price on her head, she says.
A price, I says.
Lilith takes the pipe outta her mouth. Didn’t you know? Oh yeah, the Pathfinder wants you real bad. Anybody harms a hair on th’ Angel’s head gits theirs chopped off, an it’s a parcel of good New Eden land to the person who delivers you alive to Resurrection.
The Pathfinder, I says. What’s Resurrection?
His lair, she says. Back in New Eden.
I ain’t headed that way, I says.
I’d truss you up an hand you in myself fer a reward like that, she says. But whores ain’t allowed in New Eden now. It’s all temperance, duty an no fun at all. That’s right, ain’t it, Meg? No place fer the likes of us.
Saba! Lugh strides towards me. You shouldn’t oughta be talkin to . . . to these.
Meg whistles. Fans herself with her hand.
Lilith narrows her eyes. It ain’t talkin I wanna do with you, honey boy, she says.
Lugh flushes. He ain’t never seen such females in his life before. He’s tryin not to look at ’em but he cain’t help it.
A taste of ripe fruit, that’s what you need, says Lilith. Why doncha let Auntie Lil show you what it’s all about? One hour. No charge. Pure pleasure. She’s reachin out. She runs a finger up the inside of his thigh.
Don’t touch me! Lugh twists away, kickin her hand. So wild an sudden that she goes flyin offa her stool into all their stuff. Pots an tins an a lookin glass crash to the ground. Nero flaps an screeches.
Lugh storms off, tearin hisself free when Tommo grabs at his sleeve. He starts to follow an Lugh shoves him away.
Lemme be, gawdammit! he yells. You ain’t my family, Tommo! Back off!
He heads towards the river at a run. Tommo stands there a moment. Shocked. Cracked. Then he turns on his heel an walks fast th’other way. A kinda jagged lurch, huggin his hurt close.
Tommo! Em rushes after him.
Without thinkin, my feet start to go after Lugh. But they’re heavy. Slow. Like I’m wadin through sand. Auriel stops me with a hand on my arm. Lugh needs me, I says.
You got nuthin left to spare, she says.
I got nuthin to spare. I repeat her words dully, stupidly.
That’s right, she says.
I’m sorry, I says to Lilith. My brother’s—
Meg’s helpin her to her feet. Lilith shakes her head. Oh, I’m fine, honey, she says. But that brother of yers sure ain’t. I’d keep a close eye on him if I was you.
Please, lady, will you come? A man’s appeared beside Auriel, pluckin at her sleeve. Small an wiry, his face carved hollow by hard cares. It’s my woman, he says.
If she’s sick, says Auriel, it’s the health committee you need to—
More new arrivals, says Auriel.
We stop. I squint aginst the sun, fierce an harsh. Down the far end of camp, a mulecart jolts to a halt. The driver sits there a long moment. Then she climbs out, stiff legged an clumsy. Them that’s nearby stir theirselfs to lend a hand. The lone passenger – looks to be a man – don’t move.
What’re they all doin here? I says.
They’re headed west, she says. They cain’t go back to New Eden an they cain’t stay here fer long. They’re on their way to the Big Water, to a better life. They’ve heard the stories – the good earth, the good air – jest like yer brother. That’s what they want too.
Not jest Lugh, I says. Him an me, we want the same.
Lugh dreams of a settled life, she says. He longs to plant hisself in one place, plant the land around him. His hands itch to work good earth, put food on the table that he’s grown hisself, raise children. That ain’t you. You cain’t be tied. You’ve gotta be free to soar. To fly.
She looks at me. At least, I think she does. She’s wearin a dark eyeshield. Any glint of light – the sun hittin water or metal in a certain way – it’s liable to set her off in a vision, so she’s gotta keep herself pertected. She waits. Like I oughta say somethin. Maybe I should. But I cain’t think why or what. I’m slow. Dull. My head’s still thick with the dreams of my night.
Auriel’s draped her shawl over her head. My eyes keep goin to it. It’s dark red. The colour of blood. The same as the one in my dream.
Somebody dead, laid out in the pit full length. The head’s bin wrapped in a dark red shawl.
I wish she’d take it off. The shades of the dead press on me. I don’t see ’em. But I feel ’em, so close around me I cain’t hardly breathe.
I dreamed of a old man, I says.
Yes, she says. Namid.
He gave me a bow, I says.
Yes, she says.
We pick our way down the camp, along the road between the shelters. The rain-churned earth’s dried into ruts ankle deep.
Her an me’s on walkabout. That’s what she calls it. She feels responsible fer these people. Lost souls, she calls ’em. She’s bin up since before dawn, talkin to the welcome committee an the privy detail an the health an death committee an who knows what else. She’s even thinkin she might lead everybody out west herself. She’s waitin fer a sign from the light, from her nature guides.
They need a leader, she says. These people ain’t like you, Saba. They’ve spent their lives in the dirt, cowerin at the feet of the strong. They believe it’s all they’re fit fer.
It’s a slow walkabout. Auriel’s a mighty wonder. They rush at her, to kiss her hands, to touch her tunic. She speaks to each one, askin about their child, their wife, the old woman they travelled with. Me, they only look at sidewise. Specially with Nero ridin my shoulder an Tracker by my side. But at least people ain’t holdin their charms aginst me today.
I look back. Lugh, Tommo an Em dog our footsteps, twenny paces or so behind. Auriel asked that they let her an me alone, but Lugh ain’t one to be told. He warned he’d be watchin her an he means it.
Not that there’s anythin to watch. The first thing I did today was ask her to git on with it. To gimme a potion or bleed me or read the stars or whatever it is she’s gotta do to fix me so’s we can git back on the road west. She said it don’t work that way. That I’ll know when I’m ready. After that, she wouldn’t say no more.
The next tent along on the right, two painted ladies sit out front, watchin the world go by. The younger one – plump as a pigeon – sits with her feet up, coaxin a rattly tune from the strings of a banjax. Her friend squats on a stool, her skirt hitched above her knees, smokin a pipe. She’s a handsome woman, loaded down with jangly bracelets an necklaces. There’s a ring on every toe an finger. Dozens of ’em in her ears too.
In their ragged finery they’re a strange sight among these worn-out dusty folk. Like colourful birds blown off course. Nero hops onto the pipe-smoker’s shoulder an starts pickin at her flounces.
Would you credit that, Meg? she says. He thinks I’m a crow.
Ferget the bird, Lilith. Unless my eyes deceive me, th’ Angel of Death has come to call. Meg lays her banjax aside. She sashays over, lookin me up an down, sayin, You’d be a big hit in our line of business, Angel.
She moves in so close that I can smell her. Sweat an sweetgrass. A big hit, she says. Mean . . . magnificent . . . a bit grubby. I seen you fight once. I still dream about it. She leans in. Her red painted lips brush mine. I always did wanna kiss a girl with a price on her head, she says.
A price, I says.
Lilith takes the pipe outta her mouth. Didn’t you know? Oh yeah, the Pathfinder wants you real bad. Anybody harms a hair on th’ Angel’s head gits theirs chopped off, an it’s a parcel of good New Eden land to the person who delivers you alive to Resurrection.
The Pathfinder, I says. What’s Resurrection?
His lair, she says. Back in New Eden.
I ain’t headed that way, I says.
I’d truss you up an hand you in myself fer a reward like that, she says. But whores ain’t allowed in New Eden now. It’s all temperance, duty an no fun at all. That’s right, ain’t it, Meg? No place fer the likes of us.
Saba! Lugh strides towards me. You shouldn’t oughta be talkin to . . . to these.
Meg whistles. Fans herself with her hand.
Lilith narrows her eyes. It ain’t talkin I wanna do with you, honey boy, she says.
Lugh flushes. He ain’t never seen such females in his life before. He’s tryin not to look at ’em but he cain’t help it.
A taste of ripe fruit, that’s what you need, says Lilith. Why doncha let Auntie Lil show you what it’s all about? One hour. No charge. Pure pleasure. She’s reachin out. She runs a finger up the inside of his thigh.
Don’t touch me! Lugh twists away, kickin her hand. So wild an sudden that she goes flyin offa her stool into all their stuff. Pots an tins an a lookin glass crash to the ground. Nero flaps an screeches.
Lugh storms off, tearin hisself free when Tommo grabs at his sleeve. He starts to follow an Lugh shoves him away.
Lemme be, gawdammit! he yells. You ain’t my family, Tommo! Back off!
He heads towards the river at a run. Tommo stands there a moment. Shocked. Cracked. Then he turns on his heel an walks fast th’other way. A kinda jagged lurch, huggin his hurt close.
Tommo! Em rushes after him.
Without thinkin, my feet start to go after Lugh. But they’re heavy. Slow. Like I’m wadin through sand. Auriel stops me with a hand on my arm. Lugh needs me, I says.
You got nuthin left to spare, she says.
I got nuthin to spare. I repeat her words dully, stupidly.
That’s right, she says.
I’m sorry, I says to Lilith. My brother’s—
Meg’s helpin her to her feet. Lilith shakes her head. Oh, I’m fine, honey, she says. But that brother of yers sure ain’t. I’d keep a close eye on him if I was you.
Please, lady, will you come? A man’s appeared beside Auriel, pluckin at her sleeve. Small an wiry, his face carved hollow by hard cares. It’s my woman, he says.
If she’s sick, says Auriel, it’s the health committee you need to—
