I need to stop starting my days with doom scrolling. My writer brain doesn't shut off when I'm scanning through updates, and as of the end of this week I have a lot of questions that probably won't be answered in my lifetime. History will wash down what's happening right now, like sand and gravel in a sifter, and the lumps staying on the screen to be kept likely won't have much to do with the many, many sandy stories and conspiracies people today are saying will be remembered. I really think a lot of us are buried in sand that will sift out, only for our great-great-great-grandchildren to look back at the whole situation and finally see the big gravel clearly.
My questions mostly spiral around Coronavirus pandemic outcome projections and generational long term health impacts, expectations of subsequent pandemics with high double-digit death risks, all the "what-ifs" around the civil and political situations in the USA right now, "what-if" impacts (or lack of) in Europe due to Brexit, China and Russia both riding current upward political power trends to <undisclosed outcomes due to Western culture fear mongering which implies everything not controlled by Western culture as unknown and evil (insert personal eye roll here)>. I also have a few questions about things like increased storm activity, global pollution handling, and the impacts to, and advancements by, not-world-power countries that are ignored which as a Canadian I only get updates on when I actively seek out sources not affiliated with or filtered out by North American owned large media. To state it clearly, the only thing from the above List o' Doom I'm actually having true fear about is the expected subsequent pandemics which could have terrifyingly high death tolls. The rest of these things leaving me with most of my questions seem to be power struggles in circles I'm not part of – aside from race and ethnicity issues, which I'm daily working to challenge my being-born-white outlooks so I can push anti-racism forward on a wider swath into the world; race and ethnicity issues are in an Everybody Alive circle. I'm (luckily) not a social or political leader, and history is full of people like me who just keep working and living while whatever overlords of the times, and their beliefs and policing, rise and fall with whatever zealots they have as devoted followers. None of history is written about A Country That Never Changes, In Which Nothing Interesting Ever Happens. Seriously.
19. Promised
They jogged carefully to the end of the cage so they wouldn’t trip on the grid and then climbed down. They raced as quickly as they could toward the pulley hoist that John had pointed out, Tor and John doing the needed fighting against the few guards who tried to stop them. Tor collected two new straight-bladed swords and gave them both to Tam so Justin kept a free hand to hold his injured arm with.
Tam and Justin collapsed near the base of the hoist as John clicked the ratchets and started the platform dropping down to the narrow road they were on. Tor took up a look-out stance, watching the edge of the pit that the army would be arriving from, and the storm clouds that would be arriving with them. “I hope that hoist rises faster than it lowers,” Tor called over his shoulder as the first of the regular movements he’d been expecting started where he was watching. “What do you see?” Tam asked, her voice exhausted. “When will your dad be destroying the canal?” Tor ignored his sister’s question and walked over to stand beside John at the hoist controls. “Getting to the blasts, getting to the canal, setting everything… probably another ten minutes if he doesn’t have to deal with any guards,” John answered, adjusting the controls so the platform dropped quicker for the final few idlesides. “And if he does have to deal with guards?” Tor asked, watching the motions on the far side of the mine a moment longer, then turning to study what John was doing. “Twenty minutes, at most,” John assured the group. “What’s wrong, Tor?” Tam asked, pushing up to her feet. “Jin’s back. He brought friends,” Tor answered, not looking away from the ratchets controlling the hoist’s platform and counterweights until the platform was sitting on the road. “Load up,” he ordered. Tor helped Tam settle in the middle, setting the pack of supplies he’d been carrying in her lap and checking over his weapons to make sure everything drew properly. Justin pushed up to his feet and started pulling off the pack he was carrying. Tor scoffed a laugh at him and hooked a hand behind the elbow of Justin’s bad arm. “You couldn’t fight scouts and you know it,” Tor whispered so his sister wouldn’t hear. “You can’t do it alone and we don’t know if John can fight,” Justin argued at the same volume. “I figure as a petty thief and a couple of non-criminal laborers, you three will be forgotten by the end of tomorrow,” Tor said. “But a disloyal scout? A deserter?” He shook his head to the negative. “Me they’ll keep hunting.” “So we stay ahead of them and get to the coast,” Justin argued. “That was the deal.” “No it wasn’t.” Tor tilted his head to look up at Justin. “The deal was I set you free and you set Tam free. Her staying alive gets you to the coast, and you being alive buys her safe passage out of Opat. No matter what happens to me, you take care of her.” Justin’s brows furrowed as he wracked his brain for something other than what Tor was saying right now and came up with only memories that matched. “No, I –” “You promised this morning. Whatever happens to me you’ll take care of her.” Tor’s grin angled into something sad. He let go of Justin’s arm and tapped a finger into Justin’s chest. “You promised,” Tor repeated. “No, that was for crossing the river. That wasn’t –” Justin’s argument ended in a grunt. He was lying on his back, staring up at the crane cables overhead, trying to remember how to inhale while his shoulder screamed at him not to. The pack Justin had been carrying thudded onto the platform. Tor had grabbed it when he threw Justin, a simple way to make sure he landed flat so as not to hurt his wounded shoulder further. The scout kicked one of John’s feet out from under him and shoved the bigger man onto the platform as he was still stumbling. Tor reached into the guts of the machine that controlled the hoist and, with a sound half way between a grunt and a growl, ripped out the brake holding the platform down. Justin rolled and reached out with his right hand, but Tor dodged around the first grab and ducked away from the second, using the spin to throw his weapons belt. Justin’s fist closed around the leather strap that had both swords, three knives, and both lengths of rope hanging from it. You promised! Justin heard the words clearly even though Tor’s lips didn’t move as the scout pointed up at him on the receding platform. Then Tor smiled brightly and waved a friendly farewell, knowing anything he tried to yell would be heard all the way around the mine and not willing to pass on anything to the troop of scouts which could be used against him later. The emergency brake automatically applied at the top – as all cranes had in case of control failure – and the platform jerkily came to a stop, banging hard into the catch. Tor waited for the counterweight cables to go slack and then used them to quickly scale further into the mine. Justin watched the black shapes on the other side of the pit pause and then all sharply change direction to follow Tor straight down. Tam was silently crying when Justin looked at her, her face composed calmly beneath the tears. He was holding nothing but the belt when he finally sat up. She looked at it, nodded once, and then picked up the pack of supplies she’d been given in one hand and the two straight bladed swords in the other. Justin pushed up to his feet and helped Tam stand, steadying her as she stepped onto the catch, and leaving her leaning on the railing while he went back to retrieve his pack. “I’m sorry,” John stated, not aiming his condolences at either of them singly. “Where’s the shed?” Tam asked, bracing against the wind as a gust rocked the platform. John swallowed hard and led them the short distance to the supply shed. Justin paused beside the small building and looked out at the clear view on this side of the mine. The heavy trees leading in had been cleared away what looked like decades again to make fields for farmland and he could see all the way down to where the snow stopped, and then beyond into the green and brown winter crops below. The farms under the snow line were all so far away that they were tinged blue. The guards’ village was nestled into the side of the mountain above where they were standing. It was maybe only a twenty minute walk, at a fast pace, from the closest houses to that edge of the mine. “This is the way we need to go?” Justin asked Tam, pointing toward the distant farms. “Yes,” she answered woodenly. There was a muffled thunk and then the sound of wood splintering. Justin looked over at John. “Door’s unlocked,” John said, lowering the crow bar as a gust of wind pushed the door fully open. “I figure if we take one of these sleds, and we take turns pulling it, we can –” “Got any canvas tarps in there?” Justin interrupted, tucking his bad arm into the strap of his pack the way Tor had shown him as he walked over to look at what supplies were available. “What are you thinking?” Tam asked, stepping beside him. Justin stepped into the shed to study the heavy ratchets and replacement crane poles. “You’re an Islander?” he asked John as the shed’s inventory started coming together into a plan. Justin already knew the answer from John’s accent, but he didn’t know John, so he waited. “Yes.” “Do you know how to sail?” Justin pressed. “Of course,” John’s tone was nearly offended. “Ever build a boat?” Justin asked. “No,” John answered flatly. “Good.” Justin grinned over his shoulder at the larger man. “Then you can’t argue with me about how wrong this will be.”
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Well it only took twelve months, which seemed to have lasted a total of approximately seven years, but we made it into 2021. Cue up the exhausted "woo-hoo"s and hit Random on the playlist, then please remember you're still here and take a moment to just be impressed by that fact before humming into the rest of your day to the tune of your favorite song. Seriously, you set Random so your fav song will be along shortly if it hasn't come on yet.
The week of squishy holiday time is wrapping up and I'm getting back into remembering which days are what again as the return to school looms closer. The early mornings this coming week are going to be a bit of a shock to the system, but a return to a set schedule will be nice. (Translation: getting up for a 9:00am start to daily class meetings is going to suuuuuck so much for my house full of night people, but at least there'll be regular snacks so we won't all be monster-level grumpy.)
18. Enemies and Friends
The clanging of the fight above silenced. A moment later Tor dropped to the cage beside Justin. He was breathing hard from exertion, but otherwise seemed fine as he straightened. Now that most of the slaves were loose and running away, and most of the guards were dealing with that, Justin could hear parts of the quiet conversation happening under his feet which he was intent on ignoring.
“Good afternoon,” Tor huffed. Justin nodded in greeting as Tor looked around. “Did you still have Tam with you?” “Look down two idlesides,” Justin answered. “Oh, in the cage. I suppose that’s good,” Tor said. He sniffed and coughed while looking between his feet, his nose running from having fought to sweating in the cold weather. Tam was sitting with the dark-skinned son and father. “That was Jin you were fighting with?” Justin asked. “For most of it, yes,” Tor said and nodded. “He wouldn’t quit fighting, but he wouldn’t kill me either. I guess that means we’re still friends.” “That’s good,” Justin said, tilting a small grin down at Tor. “I know, right?” Tor was smiling widely behind his mask, Justin could hear it. “He’s gone back to report, though, so we need to get going.” He sniffled and coughed again, then his head tilted slightly as he looked at the small gang surrounding Justin. “Are these four friends of yours, in awe of you, or simply struck immobile by how bad you smell?” “I know him,” Justin said, pointing out Archie Cobb. “The rest were deciding whether or not to attack me on his behalf.” “Ooh.” Tor stretched out the single syllable. “So they’re stone-headed?” “Completely gearblocked,” Justin agreed. “What about the other scout, the one in the outpost doorway?” “She was new. I’d never met her before.” Tor rolled his shoulders as he visually measured the men now watching him as well. Justin noted his use of past tense regarding the new scout and didn’t bother asking any further. “Shall we get going then?” Tor clapped his hands as if he was coaching a sport at grammar school. “Tam, are you ready to go?” he called down. She settled a comforting hand on the shoulder of the young man who’d caught her and smiled tightly up at her brother. “We’ll be right up,” she answered. “Those two with Tam are friends, right?” Tor asked Justin, pointing down at the men Tam was sitting with. “They are now,” Justin replied. “The younger one is coming with us. His father gave me this after I dropped my sword.” Tor looked at the crowbar, then turned and watched the quiet conversation for a moment before shifting impatiently. “When is he coming with us?” Tor asked. “We really need to get moving.” “They’re still standing here. You can kill them while we’re waiting.” Justin gestured with the top of the crow bar at the four men growing more confused the longer they were ignored. “You don’t want to?” Tor asked, the tone of his reply suited better to having been asked if he wanted the last sweet biscuit after a light luncheon. “No, you go ahead,” Justin confirmed. Two of the four simply ran away as Tor drew only one of the two swords he again had on his belt. Cobb and the other man didn’t stand a chance, even with the cobbled together weapons they’d made from mining tools. “Are you all right?” Tor asked, noticing Justin hadn’t moved during the very short fight. “I think I dislocated my left shoulder,” Justin answered. “That must hurt.” Tor cleaned his blade and sheathed it. “Doesn’t feel good.” Tor prodded at the joint in question. Justin winced and groaned from the pain of the inspection. “You did dislocate it,” Tor stated confidently, positioning himself to realign the arm into its proper place. “I can set this, but you have to promise me something,” he added. “Promise you what?” Justin asked, expecting something else about Tam and focusing on his feet while trying not to tense up in anticipation of how much setting it was going to hurt. Just having Tor lift the arm’s weight off the injured joint immediately felt better, but experience dictated that slight relief would be over very soon. “Promise you won’t hit me with the crow bar if this doesn’t work the first time.” “What? Wait, you just said you could – ouch!” Justin tried to remember how to breathe after the shock of setting the joint ebbed and his shoulder ceased being terrifically painful. Tor was still holding the injured arm, giving the joint a chance to settle before having to support itself again. “Here, tuck it like this so you can pretend you have a sling,” Tor instructed gently, threading Justin’s forearm through the strap of the pack he was still wearing. “I wanted to ask you something since this morning. Is your mam as scary as she, well, felt?” “No,” Justin said and then chuckled. “My mom is much, much worse.” “Huh,” Tor replied, a smirk in his voice. “That explains why you have mortar for marrow,” he complimented. The cage rattled as Tam and the trio’s two new friends climbed to the top. Tor looked at the father’s crooked foot and the son’s face and – for once – kept his mouth shut. Justin busied himself fidgeting with the strap that was acting as a sling, not looking up when one of the massive, weathered hands squeezed his good shoulder briefly, or when the father limped away. “Pop’s going to blow the canal wall to let the river out of its channel and destroy the mine,” the young man stated after his father walked away. “It should be enough of a distraction to keep everyone away from us. There’s a supply shed at the top of that hoist.” He pointed a quarter of the way around the mine, well away from where the other slaves were fighting with the guards. “That’ll be our best place to find something to help us get away.” “Lead the way,” Tor gestured. “Here,” Justin said, offering the crow bar to their group’s newest addition as they set off. “I’ll pick up a sword on the way.” The young man looked down at him, his dark eyes too old and too angry for the face they were resting in, and took the tool without saying a word. “I’m Tor Nao-ak,” Tor said, introducing himself as he pulled his mask off and tossed it into the pit. “You already met my sister, Tam,” he added as he nodded toward her. “John Duncan,” John introduced himself and then his heavy stare landed on Justin expectantly. “He’s our nameless companion,” Tor answered after a moment of silence. “But he answers to ‘hey’, ‘look’, ‘no’, and ‘don’t do that’ if you need to get his attention,” he added with a smirk. John scoffed a single laugh. “My folks had a dog named Kony that only answered to those same things when I was a kid,” John stated, the tone leaving no doubt he was attempting to be insulting to the man he viewed as leaving his father behind. “That was a terrible insult, John Duncan,” Tor said, the look on his face disgusted. “You’ll have to get a lot better at verbal sparring if you’re going to travel with Tam,” he added, hooking a thumb toward his sister and making Tam snort out a chuckle. Tor was about to continue, but silenced when he heard a horn blowing. It was too far away to echo in the mine, but the notes were clear. “What is it?” Tam asked. “Advance infantry,” Tor said, answering Tam as he reached to take the pack she was carrying. “They’re closer than I expected. That puts the scouts at half that distance.” “So we’re running?” Justin asked, gripping his bad arm with his good one so he wouldn’t be jarring his injured shoulder more than necessary. “We’re running,” Tor confirmed, settling the pack onto his own shoulders. “We’re running, really, really fast,” he added.
Well, holiday celebrations at our house went very well. The kids got presents they like, as did my husband and I. We all ate too much, except my nine-year-old who's grown an inch in the past three months and needed a midnight lunch to be able to sleep. And Hans Gruber fell off Nakatomi Tower, which means it was officially Christmas at our house.
Yes, at our house it is a Christmas movie. It takes place during an office Christmas party, and has Christmas carols as the majority of the sound track. (Granted, the carols are slowed and the keys changed so they're suspenseful, but I'm an action flick nerd who kinda loves Die Hard has that as their sound track.)
I can't even imagine how many New Year celebrations I'd be shocked to have happen after two months of squishy time. One week throws my schedule into havoc! Lol. This year my husband is working for a few days between holiday events, however, so I'll have his schedule to anchor my days to. I hope you're staying safe and well this weekend!
17. Friends and Enemies
Justin snapped to a stop, his left shoulder jerking painfully as it took the brunt of ending his momentum when his hand gripped the bar. The center of his chest slammed into the angle where the top of the cage dropped to the side, his right leg hanging over nothing, and right hand closing on nothing. Justin closed his eyes against witnessing the crushing failure he’d just committed and waited for the screaming to start.
Cheering rose up from below him a moment later and he felt vibrations throughout the cage under him; a roaring of sound that was nearly like applause as hundreds of hands slammed and slapped the bars. He forced his eyes open and looked over the edge to see Tam dangling from... a shadow? She looked around, gasping, and then reached up to lock her hands around the elbow of the black-skinned man holding the shoulder of her coat in his fist. Justin sagged in relief as more hands reached out to hold Tam, but his plan to remain reaching over the side so they could raise her high enough for him to pull her up to the top of the cage was interrupted by multiple impacts of guards landing nearby him. Justin rose to his knees slowly as the four guards who’d jumped down levelled their swords at him. They stomped on the hands that tried to trip them without even looking down, as if they were practiced at it. A steady pressure dug into the side of his calf. He reached back slowly, keeping view of each guard as they advanced on him, and wrapped his hand around what was being offered. The weight was too heavy to be a blade, and the hexagonal shape was bare metal. “That’s my son holding the girl,” a deep voice said from right under Justin, the tone cutting through the cheering and jeering. “I’m giving you this so you’ll take him with you.” “What?” a younger version of the voice barked the question. “Pop, no!” Justin glanced down. The man talking to him was head and shoulders taller than everyone else in the cage, except his son who was nearly as tall, his skin weathered and just as dark as his son’s. The fist holding the other end of the crow bar was too thick to pass between the grid of the bars. In a glimpse, Justin saw his own father in much too similar a situation. “Agreed,” Justin answered, and the big man released his hold on the bar. Justin surged to his feet, bringing the crowbar up through the grid as he did. The heavy steel hummed as he spun with it, gaining the needed speed with the long bar so that it wouldn’t matter if the hits were blocked or not. He started to step sideways as he was facing the rock wall, turning it into a forward lunge as he faced two of the guards and extended his reach. Too far! He ignored the scream of muscles in his left shoulder and focused on holding tighter to the crowbar with his right hand. The weight of the steel took most of the impact and both guards were knocked sideways to tumble away into the pit. Justin pulled the crowbar closer to his body, stopping the spin by slamming his good shoulder into the rock wall. It left him facing the next two guards. He didn’t bother trying to fight fancy, the bulk of the tool wasn’t suited for fencing, so instead he fought to win as quickly as possible. Three movements later, aided by hands grabbing and slowing the guards’ feet, both guards were screaming their descent into the mine. Justin looked up to see if there were going to be more guards dropping down, but the ones watching him were backing away from the edge. He could also still hear the exchange Tor was having with however many other scouts were up there. Justin set the crowbar on top of the cage and dropped to one knee. The big man who’d given him the tool clasped his offered right hand firmly when Justin reached through the grid. “I’ll get you out,” Justin promised. The big man smiled sadly and took a limping step forward so he wasn’t reaching uncomfortably far. “I’m too slow since I broke my leg some months ago,” he stated. “Take my son. Let out everyone, but be certain you take my son.” “No,” Justin growled out the reply between gritted teeth. “I’m not leaving you here to –” “Yes,” the big man interrupted. “You are,” Justin shook his head to the negative and his arm was pulled effortlessly and suddenly up to his elbow into the cage. The steel bars dug painfully into his elbow and knees. The angry continuation died in the father’s throat and his sad smile came back as he studied Justin’s face. “This is what dads do,” the big man said quietly. He reached up and clasped Justin’s forearm. “Looks like you already know that, son.” Justin fought the memories and emotions threatening to overwhelm him and choked on the frustrated yell, swallowing it before he could utter a sound. The big man nodded once, approval glowing on his features, and then released Justin’s arm. As with his own father, Justin didn’t look back once he turned away. He studied the cage as he stood, seeking the weak points and loose joints, the places that from inside were only hopes, but from out here – with a heavy crow bar – were opportunities. Once he found the places he was looking for, it was a matter of brute force applied in the right ways. Rivets and welds sprang apart to either bludgeoning or prying, as was required, and soon a section of the cage wall and top was being pried and shoved back, the adjoining grids bent over and away by the people inside who were determined to kick their way out. Guards started dropping down as imprisoned slaves started climbing out. People in the lower cages screamed for their own freedom as escapees mauled and overpowered guards, hidden tools and weapons appearing in their hands now that they had cause to use them. Many slaves climbed down to the lower level and started freeing their friends and loved ones. Justin stood out of the way, catching his breath, and let the evacuation proceed without his input. A few criminals surrounded him. “He looks tired,” someone with an Islander accent stated. “That bar’s likely too heavy,” another Islander answered, his tone mocking pity. “I think we should have it so he can rest,” a familiar voice that Justin knew originated in Tenet Mik added. “Try it, Cobb,” Justin invited him. “I’d very much like to see you, Archie, try it.” Archie Cobb had sailed with Montrade, the company that Justin’s family owned, up until a year ago when he’d staged a mutiny. Half the crew had been killed when Cobb stole the ship and cargo. He hadn’t been smart enough to take a fast ship, though, or one that was well armed. Justin and his uncle had chased him down with the Gem. Cobb had not expected Justin’s alter ego to be such a distant relation to the fashionable fop he thought he’d stolen the ship from. “How’s he know your name, Archie?” a fourth voice asked, completing the small gang standing around him. Justin lifted his head and stared hard at the man he’d personally thrown overboard just off the Opat shoreline. Cobb ramped up from cocky to blind rage in the span of a heartbeat, recognition jolting through his entire body, but stood rooted to the spot as the instinctive part of his mind wrestled the anger down using arguments of self-preservation.
16. Running Late
The commander chuckled at the newlywed scenario Justin and Tam presented to him. He insisted they keep the supplies and clothing as gifts while Justin argued over the needed amount of chips he wanted to return payment of once they’d reached Tam’s imaginary family. Almost as an afterthought, and with Justin and Tam both animatedly refusing, the commander pushed a sword and knife each into their hands, cautioning them against bandits in the area.
“This is too much, on top of everything you’ve already given us,” Justin said, trying to hand the weapons back. “I wouldn’t sleep well knowing that I’d sent you out unable to protect yourselves,” the commander said, preening at his own graciousness. Justin smiled at the new weapons and the commander as if unable to believe his good fortune, while privately hoping the Fengus twit knew the difference between the good steel and the decoys. “These weapons, you have to allow me to send payment for them,” Justin argued further, holding up the ruse as he clipped the knife to his belt. “Not required, not required,” the commander announced, beaming at them and waving his hands as though batting at a moth. Tam snapped her weapons to her belt and smiled at the man, blinking as if she was holding back tears, and then hugged him. “Thank you so much,” she whispered, so genuine that even Justin almost believed her. “Of course, of course,” the commander said as he patted her back. “I’m always ready to help those in need,” he added when she stepped back and brushed a real tear off her cheek with the back of her hand. Justin smiled down at her as he clicked his new sword to his belt and then wrapped his left arm around her, reaching to clasp hands with the commander as she hugged his waist. “We owe you our lives,” Justin stated, holding the commander’s hand firmly. “I can’t thank you enough.” The gearblocked commander praised himself and his own generosity as they stepped outside, warm and dry, to start on their way again. The nearest guards complained about the wind picking up for what looked like another storm as Justin and Tam stopped to wave and call more thanks at the foot of the bridge, hiding the exhaustion of even the small exertion of walking this far when they beamed smiles at the commander. He waved back, and then they turned and crossed over to the side where Justin could feel Tor waiting. They stuck to the road ringing the top edge of the pit, Tor pacing them through the trees from a distance. Justin made sure to thank every guard they passed, and only glanced into the mine as much as typical curiosity would allow when a couple of guards muttered about the bad weather halting work and then yesterday tromping through the woods to bring people back after a few slaves escaped into the storm which had just passed. The door to the next outpost burst open just after they walked by and Justin didn’t even have time to look why when Tor’s thought for them to run blasted through his mind. They staggered four steps on legs which were aching and cramped from shivering for so long before the silent command switched in frustration to fight. Justin unsheathed his new sword as he spun around to face whatever was coming, hoping the blade was good steel, and barely ducked under the swing of the scout who was attacking him as the sword in his hand snapped off cleanly where the scout’s sword struck it. Tam stabbed over his head and surprised the woman in the black uniform by burying a badly made sword in her chest and pulling Justin clear of the back swing that broke the hilt off the decoy weapon Tam had been given. Justin lunged forward and grabbed the scout’s wrist as she stumbled to her knees. He ducked around her arm and twisted her hand, forcing her to drop the sword into his waiting palm. He stabbed her again to be certain she was dead before turning his back on her to face the little outpost building. Two sets of long planks with boot caps in the middles and curves at the top ends were leaning against the nearest wall. “Scouts use skis” Tor had said, and these looked exactly like what he’d described. The second scout hesitated in the door, clearly not wanting to make the same mistake of rushing into the fight that her partner had just made. Then she simply stepped out of the way for six mine guards to rush out of the cabin past her. Tam pulled on Justin’s pack to lead him into a position closer to the trees, and then abruptly changed direction as swords clanged in quick succession where Tor was. Guards poured out of the next outpost and pounded over the bridge as the first six started their attack. Justin fought as well as he could with the unfamiliar curved blade, and was rewarded with a lucky stroke that took off a guard’s hand and gave him a straight blade he was familiar with. He quickly procured a sword for Tam the same way. Yells and cheering from behind him – in the direction of the pit – created a confusing mix of hollering until Justin realized that the slaves in the top cage below could see the guards running and hear the fighting. Tam killed the last of the first six and then turned so she was back to back with Justin, each of them facing the next force that was arriving from both directions. They dropped their packs as the scout in the nearest outpost rested her hands into her pants pockets and leaned her shoulder on the door frame to watch the next wave of guards arrive, waiting casually to see how events would unfold. Justin wasn’t sure if he admired or loathed her for acting exactly as he would have had their places been reversed. The cheering below grew louder as he and Tam were forced closer to the edge of the pit and the slaves in the cage below could see some of the fighting. Justin marked the distance to the edge of the road in his mind’s eye and tried to push the fighting closer to the trees… which worked as well as pushing water uphill with his hands. It seemed like two guards arrived for every one that they were able to kill. The edge of the pit loomed closer as they were driven toward it. Tor crashed out of the trees, swordless, obviously having been thrown, and rolled into the back of the pack of guards around Justin and Tam. He came up to his feet holding the curved blade Justin had dropped and cleared a swath of guards as he stood, opening a space around himself that gave him a good swing radius simply by killing everything within it. The scout in the doorway took her hands from her pockets and nearly stepped out, but stayed put when whoever Tor had been fighting with charged out of the trees and attacked. Justin’s internal warnings clanged loudly about the edge of the pit as he swung and blocked, Tam’s shoulder digging into his ribs as she did the same. Then suddenly she wasn’t there. He twisted and dropped, ducking under the incoming blades, and reached over the edge. Tam was already too far down for him to grab. She spun and curled in the air, the short distance she was falling giving her almost no time to prepare to land, and crashed into the top of the highest cage in an awkward roll. Justin dove off the edge after her as she sprawled to stop herself. Her ass and legs met with nothing but open air. Her sword bounced off the cage and spun away into the pit as her hands slipped over the smooth bars, unable to grab on to anything because of the angle she was reaching from. Justin threw his sword as he landed on the cage and lunged to grab her. He was too late.
The trees are up and decorated, the stockings are almost finished being made (only the fuzzy trim left to sew on and then press on the names), the mock fireplace is drawn and colored and hanging under the window, and my husband is making a 4-stockings hanger with some scrap metal from work. We might just pull off this one-house Christmas thing! :)
The biggest things that help me off an anxiety spiral are regular eating and sleeping. Regular eating helps because I stop eating during anxiety, it's where my eating disorder lives, and crashing blood sugars do not improve anything. Regular sleeping helps because sleep deprivation makes for fuzzy thinking, and my anxiety thrives on confusion. Eliminating confusion and hunger starve my anxiety and help me regain control.
15. Ice
Justin started the preliminary breathing exercises he did before any dive. Better to be prepared, he figured. There was nothing he could do about how cold the water was, but he could at least not drown if he was dunked under the ice. Tor said it was open water around the bend, and Justin could hold his breath that distance as long as he wasn’t frozen to death. He picked his first few steps and then narrowed his focus down to just this moment, ignoring the thinking part of his mind so that he could react faster, and set off after Tor and Tam.
A nearby crack interrupted the groaning river and reverberated through the flows as Tor, Tam and Justin leapt from one jagged edge to the next, using the snowshoes to bridge across the roughness of the ice sheets. Justin felt the change as a vibration before he looked up from his next steps to see where the cause of it was. The ice creaked and grated on all sides as it underwent a massive shift just ahead of him. Tor looked back, meeting Justin’s stare as Tam dropped from between them. Panic flared in Tor’s eyes that all the ice around where Tam had been was now in motion. The place where she’d dropped erupted into a flurry of loose snow and then her arms clawed up and they could see her head. Tor’s brain engaged his training reflexes before it remembered about his snowshoes and he sprawled into a fall as he tripped himself trying to turn too quickly. Tam slipped down and then caught herself on the edge of an adjoining sheet, pulling herself up so she was only half submerged, her arms stretched to full extension forward as she scratched for any handhold to pull herself completely free of the freezing river. Justin stopped looking for safe footing and kicked out of his snowshoes into a run. The ice sheets behind the gap she’d fallen through were slamming up and twisting into a new configuration. A sheet twice as thick as Justin’s arm and as tall as he was above the water surged up, gravity fighting against the river to pull it down. Swinging slowly into the opposite direction than it had been pushed up, and pressed by the current and more ice from behind so that the circular motion was delayed, the heavy ice was scissoring closed on the gap Tam was in the middle of. Justin breathed deeply, his lungs aching from the sudden cold, and leapt to the sheet of ice she was clinging to as he yanked his pack and coat off over his head. The sheet she was holding bobbed under his added weight and then tipped, dipping Tam further down. Justin threw his supplies toward Tor as he skidded into the gap, grabbing Tam and dragging her into the water as he slid off the ice. The water was horrifically cold after the sudden dive, but much clearer than he’d expected. The cracking boom of the gap slamming closed above them was followed by screeches and groans of the ice adjusting while the current started to carry them away. He spun to face down and kicked deeper to get away from the floes. Even with only the dim sunlight penetrating the thick ice, he could see the jagged bottoms of the sheets. Everything was lit blue. He tore off the pack and coat that Tam was wearing so it wouldn’t weigh her down as she struggled. Justin clutched Tam to his chest, pinning her so she couldn’t hurt him as she fought the water, and swam with the current while looking up for a thin spot. He kicked up to a shadowy gap in the overhead surface and grabbed onto the ice, wedging his elbow into a crevice when his fingers didn’t work to hold on. Tam coughed and gagged in the small space. There was no way of breaking through here to get above the ice, but at least there was air for the moment. “Hold your breath,” Justin said, stuttering around his chattering teeth, forcing his body to breathe deeply again. Tam whimpered, but gasped as best she could. Justin felt her chest lock into an expanded position and gulped a final mouthful of air before diving back under. They needed to get out of the water or they were going to freeze before they had a chance to drown. Brighter light caught his eye and he looked forward as he swam: three bridge abutments rose up from the shadows below and disappeared above the waterline. Justin kicked hard for the one he could angle to the easiest. He could see the shadow of a catwalk jutting far out in advance of reaching the abutment. That must be where they stand to break the ice …. He clawed up to the surface and hooked his free arm into the low railing. Movement and shouting assailed his senses as he pulled Tam so she had her head above the water. “Help,” he gasped. “Our guide… everything fell through the ice …” Rough hands hauled them out of the river, hard voices demanding to know who they were. Justin kept repeating the lie about having a guide and that they’d all broken through the ice, repeatedly thanking the guards for saving their lives. Soon they were bundled into blankets and taken up to the nearest perimeter cabin. With no way of verifying the story because Tam whimpered wordlessly and Justin didn’t change any details no matter what questions were asked, they were reluctantly given dry clothes and warm tea and left to sit near the stove. Once they’d changed, Justin pulled Tam into his arms and dried more water out of her hair with one of the towels they’d been given. She was shivering harder than he was, and he needed to maintain the assumption the guards had made that they were a couple. She curled against him, soaking up the extra heat he provided, so he shifted how they were sitting to keep her closer to the stove. He picked up his cup of tea once his hand was still enough not to spill all of it and took a tentative sip. It was barely more than hot water, and was barely hot, but it was a lot warmer than he was. He took another sip, the heat warming his insides as pleasantly as the stove was warming his skin. He pressed the rim of the cup to Tam’s lips and tilted it for her to sip as well. She took small drinks as he gave them to her, finishing the tea, and was shivering rather than shaking when he set the empty cup down. Justin heaped gratitude on anyone who spoke to them, loudly praising the guards who had pulled them out of the river as saviors when the commander came in to question them after lunch. Justin inwardly cringed when the commander started agreeing with him about how good and kind the guards were, but outwardly commended the man, stating the troops must have learned such grace by example when the twit gave them coats, good snowshoes, and packs of rations to serve them until the next town a week away. Tam assured everyone who asked that she had family there who would help them, and that the next town had been their destination before their unfortunate run-in with the river. She even sweetly blamed Justin’s ‘adventurous spirit’ for their situation, stating it had been his idea to travel off-road because he fancied himself a bit of an outdoorsman – something she acted as abhorring and adoring in even measures without having to actually say the words.
Oh hello! I am hormonal and grumpy, leaning toward whiney, and really shouldn't be spending any length of time writing in this personal blurb section as I'm pretty sure I'll end up have a "too much info" moment. (Aside stage whisper: it will not be info about me you want to know!)
Suffice to say, it was a pretty good week. Normal house cleanliness levels were maintained, some writing occurred, kids both made it into classes, and my hubby's job is continuing to be a good place to work. Is this... is this that fabled "rut" people speak of? Where life is semi-predictable and regular habits and routines can be maintained? I know many people complain about being "in the rut" but, as someone who's never really had one, this seems almost okay.
14. Meek River
They set off in the dark, tied together by Tor’s rope so neither of the other two would get lost in the snow. When the black before sunrise gave way to the grey after, they were walking along the tree line beside an open expanse that could only be the winding route of a river. Tor had said there was a river feeding the workings at the mine, which was directed through a single canal around the pit to continue unharnessed on the other side. It ran past the guards’ town and then down the mountain. He had failed to mention that the river was this wide. Justin eyed the jagged blue peaks marking the top of the water, which spoke to him of the fast current beneath shoving up ice into piles on the surface.
The snow was still falling, but had lessened considerably. He could see further than a draughtside in the shadowy morning light as Tor brought the group to a halt and they untied from each other. “We’re making better time than I’d expected,” he said, keeping his voice quiet as he started wrapping the rope into a coil. “The road into the mine is on this side of the river. The way out is on that side,” he pointed with his chin to the opposite bank. “I’d figured that we’d have to fight our way over the bridge, but if we cross now everything gets exceptionally easier. We might not have to fight at all.” Justin frowned at the river. He could see the other bank approximately four draughtsides away, and could pick what appeared as a fairly safe pass to get there, but he didn’t like walking on ice on a good day… and this ice could be loose. “The bridge is just there, around that bend,” Tor pointed in the direction they’d been walking. “It always has guards at both ends. This is the last place we can cross without being seen, and the last place the river’s fully frozen over. Around the bend they break the ice.” “Drinking water?” Justin asked, keeping his voice at the same volume as Tor’s. “Natural prison wall,” Tam replied. “The water is so cold that it even thinly ices in the summer. It forces people to use their bridge.” “What about the perimeter patrols?” Justin reminded Tor. The last thing they needed was one of the guard patrols passing by as they were out in the middle of the river. “We’re already inside,” Tor said with a quick grin. “We have ten minutes until the next pass. They’ll wave at each other across the river just back there,” he pointed with his thumb in the direction they’d come from. “They’ll see our tracks,” Tam frowned. “But they won’t follow us,” Tor pointed across the jagged ice. “They won’t cross the water. Too much superstition.” “About what?” Justin asked. “Everyone who died in the water,” Tor said, grinning wider. He finished wrapping the rope and looped the ends to secure the coil from unravelling or knotting. “Some of us scouts may have played a few tricks over the years to strengthen those superstitions, as well. It made sure we didn’t have to worry about being followed whenever we crossed it ourselves.” Justin chuckled, the thoughts flicking into his mind of how creative his own crew could get when they were bored. Suddenly anger and fear touched into his mind, the strength of it dimmed by distance, but the power of it drowning any further conversation for a moment. Tor and Tam both stared, eyes wide, toward the distant horizon in the direction of the ocean that neither could see. Justin didn’t even bother turning around. The distance was much too far for him to try returning anything structured, so he just pushed back with safe reassurance followed up with wary determination. Justin’s mother replied with love, her emotions amplified by sharing the contact with her friend and trainer, Madam Isabelle. His mother’s anger ramped up considerably after he gave a feeling of imprisonment and of being alone, and he could feel Madam Isabelle’s touch turn calculating at the realization that Rourke wasn’t there... but she could sense someone else was. Her feelings confirmed both of Justin’s worries; his friend had shielded his death to stop Justin from waking up to stop him, and as a by-product had successfully stopped any of The Ladies from knowing as well, and that Tam and Tor were talented but untrained. The siblings he was with turned their stares on him once his mother cut the communication, even her and Madam Isabelle’s combined efforts over this distance were too much of an effort to continue. Tor and Tam’s stares verified Madam Isabelle’s findings about them. “What was that?” Tam demanded, her words reinforced as tumbling thoughts in Justin's mind – and apparently in Tor’s – which she didn’t know how to break away from sharing now that she’d accidentally been included in a contact. These two being untrained made it more important for him to get them out of Opat. It had been years since anyone talented had been found in this country. “That was my mother,” Justin replied. He quickly estimated how far he was from the coast, did a subtraction of the distance he knew his mother could communicate at that clarity when she had Madam Isabelle’s help, and realized she was already on the wet. He didn’t envy his uncle for having to participate in the conversation that had brought her off the estate. “We need to get moving before the next patrol comes,” he added, bringing Tor and Tam’s attention back to the immediate situation. Tam shook her head, disconnecting the contact instinctively, while Tor brushed off his sleeves as if the lingering emotions were a physical thing. Tor turned and studied the piled-up ice as he tucked the rope away. “We could be safe crossing there,” he said, pointing out a line of ice peaks near where Justin had been looking. “I wanted to avoid that pile,” Justin said as he pointed at one of the jagged heaps on the path that Tor planned on using. “There are breaks in the snow already. The ice might have shifted apart. I was thinking that way.” Justin pointed out the route he’d seen, where the snow was piled from being pushed rather than broken from being pulled apart. Both ways were a risk. On Tor’s, the breaks could mean dangerous gaps in the ice, or safe settling of ice sheets into solid positions. On Justin’s, the snow piles could be hiding gaps or the sheets could have been recently shoved up and still be off balance. Both had the threat of loose ice that would tip and drop whoever was stepping on the sheet into the cold river below, and the whole river was a groaning mass of rushing water that did not provide any level of comfort about any part of the ice being safe to cross. “What about that way?” Tam pointed at a flat expanse of unbroken snow spanning from bank to bank. “No,” Tor and Justin replied at the same time. “If you can’t see the ice, you don’t know if there’s any there,” Tor explained. “The snow may have just piled up on the water and formed a shell after floes broke away. Come on. I’ll go first.” “What if you fall in?” Tam asked, alarmed. “Don’t follow the same path I took,” he said, grinning at his sister Tam shook her head and chuckled ruefully at her brother’s rock headed joke. Tor shifted his gaze to stare at Justin. “Whatever happens to me,” Tor started, “I want your word that you’ll get her out of Opat and keep her safe,” he finished, his tone heavy and quiet. “I will,” Justin promised. Tor nodded and turned back to his sister. “The ice can’t flip you under if you’re already on the next piece. You need to run. Whatever happens, just keep moving,” Tor instructed. He didn’t wait for her reply before he turned and sprinted out onto the river. “Don’t step on anything that moves after Tor stepped on it,” Justin advised her. Tam gulped a mouthful of air and swallowed the surge of fear threatening to choke her. She followed her brother at the same leaping run that he’d set.
I took a day off yesterday. Like, a total, complete day off. The "kids and I had popcorn, potato chips and birthday cake for dinner" level of day off. It was an awesome day off :D
Friday was still a school day, so the kids didn't get a full day off, but they did get an evening off from having to think / do homework / do chores as we all watched movies and indulged in junk food. (As an aside, my youngest is now six and I don't have any little kids in my house anymore; two big kids snuggle on the couch with mom just as wonderfully as two little ones used to.)
And what do my regular daily activities look like? All the usual and expected cleaning and kid care, some random extra deep cleans on rooms that need it, doing some baking, and sitting down for writing time. Busy hands at manual labor tasks these past couple of weeks meant a lot of free time for my imagination. Not fighting constant anxiety meant the free time was coupled with lots of space for my imagination to run around in. Free time and empty space is a combination my imagination loves.
Now to go and attempt starting on that quiet weekend so I'm ready to have a good day as planned on Monday.... Or should I just start taking bets now that writing time infringes into Sunday and my Monday plans are already officially shot because all these new scenes and ideas need to be written out as soon as possible to make room for more...? *sigh* You're probably right. I'll open for bets lol. Hope you're staying safe and well this weekend! 13. The Gem
Tam set the pot aside and hugged her brother. Justin dried his bowl and the pot, stacking them together to ready them for packing. It gave him something else to do rather than staring at the siblings and wondering about what his own brother was doing today. Probably winter exams… the thought Justin was trying to avoid crossed his mind anyway.
James was in his final year of university, so he was probably in the midst of his winter exams prior to the break for Second Moon Nadir. Justin was meant to be on his return home right now to spend a few months overseeing the family business, but from the office rather than from the ship he’d been on. Once James finished his schooling and took over everything local to their home country, Justin would only have to manage the parts requiring travel or government. That was the plan, anyway. Tor was studying him when Justin shook his brain free of its pondering and took the bowls that Tor and Tam passed him to pack away. Justin could almost hear the silent questions written on the scout’s face, and he wasn’t interested in answering any of them. “Tell me about ships,” Tor requested instead of any of the other things he wanted to ask. “I’ve told you plenty of times,” Tam answered before Justin could say anything. “Yes, but when you tell me all I can picture is a washing tub with a flag on a broom handle in the middle of it,” he said, shaking out his blanket. “I want to hear from someone who knows what they’re talking about.” Justin laughed as Tam glared at her brother and Tor completely ignored her. They were back to their usual habits and behaviors, the moment of sincerity passed. “What do you want to know?” Justin replied with a question while Tor wrapped up as if he was going to sleep. “What they really look like, for a start,” Tor replied quickly. Justin shrugged and answered with a description as he knew ships to be, from his perspective of designing, building, and maintaining them, and feeling that he’d completely failed at it when Tor only looked more confused. “The ship I normally work on is three draughtsides long at the water line,” Justin started again, reaching for the pile of leftover materials from making the snowshoes. “It has three masts, each a single pole assembled from three trees, and each tree twice the height of this one,” he nodded to the branches overhead. He described the shape of the hull, working quickly with the sticks, cord, and leaves to make a tiny, simplified version of the Gem. He trimmed thin branches to a length that matched the scale of the little hull and built masts, adding spars and sails made from twigs and leaves as he described the colors of the sailcloth. “Eighty-six crew members live on board when we’re out of dock. And four small dogs to kill the rats,” he finished, holding up the toy. Tor took the little model and stared at it with wonder. “It must be one of the biggest ships in the ocean,” Tor replied. Justin laughed as he shook his head to the negative. “There are plenty of four- and five-mast ships that have double its displacement,” Justin answered, nodding at the little boat he’d just built. “Their masts tower over this one, and you’d need a ladder to climb from my ship’s highest deck to the other’s lowest. This one, though, is one of the fastest.” “Does every ship have the same color sails? Are they all blue and white?” Tor lay back with his free hand behind his head, holding up the small ship and turning it side to side. “No,” Tam answered, a small smile lifting one corner of her lips. “They’re every color you can think of,” Justin elaborated. “Usually the color or colors mark what the ship is for. Most are just white, marking them as independent merchants. Companies with more than one ship often either have their own colors or a company crest. Each country’s navy has its own color, which is usually illegal to be used by anyone else in their part of the wet.” “How big is the ocean?” Tor asked quietly. “There are nine in the known world, each distinct because of the currents,” Justin said. “But for planning direct routes between main ports, expecting good weather, it’s generally four weeks from Opat to Tenet Mik, three weeks from Tenet Mik to Korball, two weeks from Korball to Leshnat, and two and a half weeks from Leshnat to Opat. The Islands are almost perfectly in the center of all of them.” “Is it true that there are places where you can’t see land at all?” Tam asked. “From the middles of most of the oceans, yes. And if you sail straight north from the Islands, you can voyage for five weeks and see nothing but water and sky before the ship will scuttle on the reefs.” “Is there anything after the reefs?” Tor asked. Justin buried his own experiences on the secreted tenth ocean deeply in his memories, hiding any unconscious body language behind a shrug. “Nobody knows,” he answered instead. “The reefs stretch as far as can be seen from the crow’s nest and are unbroken from Opat’s shore to Tenet Mik’s.” “A mystery.” Tor smiled at the toy ship. He set it aside carefully before taking out and setting up his little chime clock, then pulled Tam into the blanket they now had to share. “We’ll get up before dawn. That’ll give us early light to get to the mine, and a full day to make sure we’re well past it before we need to camp again.”
Check it out! Saturday morning and I'm at my computer typing up my blog post :)
I'm also pre-coffee, so this is gonna be real short lol. It was a good week in the battle against house chores. I think I figured out how to balance productive days with the current amount of spoons I have, and have trusted physiotherapy exercises to fall back on as needed. Likely to be living with chronic pain for, I guess, ever... but I'll take the improvement I got this year of the pain being down in the 1-3 range and no longer in the 3-5 range (out of 10). The days in the 3-5 range still happen, but not consistently and not for extended periods. Progress!
12. Learning to Walk
Tam finished the first set of snowshoes and handed them to her brother with some of the heavy leaves. He measured Justin’s boots with his hands and then cut the leaves into strips, weaving them into the nets to make outlines that quickly turned into caps which fit snugly over each boot’s toe. He reinforced the caps with cord but didn’t leave any laces, and wove shorter sticks from side to side to better support the weight of a person. Justin did as he was requested and stood as well as he could in the burrow to test the fit of the caps. Tor made a few adjustments to the cords so the caps fit tighter.
“Come outside,” Tor invited, already moving toward the entrance. “Why?” Justin asked, kicking the snowshoes off so that he could sit down again with new icicles. “Because you need to learn how to walk all over again,” Tor called over his shoulder with a smirk. Tam nodded without looking up when Justin glanced at her for confirmation. Justin picked up the strange, netted shoes and followed the scout outside. “You have to keep your legs further apart, and take longer steps,” Tor instructed as Justin came out of the burrow. “Otherwise you’ll step on one shoe with the other and you’ll trip yourself. The back will drag a bit, remember that because it means you can’t step backwards. Sideways is always leading foot first, same reason as why you have to take wider, longer steps forward.” Justin nodded as he got his boots fitted into the caps. That all made sense. “Just keep going around the tree until you stop falling every few steps. Try not to break the caps or the nets,” Tor added as Justin stood up. “Once you have going forward figured out, we’ll work on turns and going sideways.” Justin looked at his feet and readjusted his thinking for what Tor had just said about tripping. Usually he learned things quickly, but this already felt awkward and he hadn’t even taken a step yet. He sighed and looked around at the falling snow, still showing no signs of stopping, and started re-learning how to walk. Tam emerged with another pair of snowshoes for Tor as Justin was learning how to step sideways, and the scout built toe caps and added reinforcement sticks while offering Justin even doses of chiding insults and coaching. “You keep working on that,” Tor stated, stepping into the caps of his own snowshoes and adjusting the cords to fit snugly. “I need to remember how to do this myself,” he admitted, grinning. “Why?” Justin asked, surprised. “Scouts use skis,” Tor said, sighing as he took his first few steps. “I haven’t snowshoed in years.” “What’s a ‘skis’?” Justin asked. Tor stopped walking to look back. “You’re so foreign,” Tor said with a laugh. “Skis are long planks the width of your boot that have a curled up front like a sled,” he explained, drawing the shape in the air with his hands. “You wax the bottoms and then just slide over top of the snow with them, rather than walking. It’s faster than snowshoeing,” he added with a shrug. “A sled is like a tiny barge that you can ride over snow with, pulled by people, dogs, or horses. Or you can just ride the sled if you’re going down a hill,” he added with a grin when he saw the next question forming on Justin’s face. “The fronts of skis and sleds curl up so the snow doesn’t come over the top.” “Like the bow of a ship?” Justin asked, getting only a confused look from Tor in reply. “The front of a ship,” Justin clarified. “I’ve never seen a ship.” Tor grinned, laughing out loud when Justin stared at him in shock. “I’ve seen barges, and I was on a fishing raft once but I didn’t like it”– he made a face –“everything smelled like week-old fish.” Justin huffed out a laugh and went back to practicing side-stepping. Tor was almost out of sight around the tree the first time he fell, laughing to himself as he pushed back to his feet to start striding again. They worked at improving for the rest of afternoon, exchanging insults and practicing moving, the activities eventually leading to a snowball fight which quickly elevated to a mock wrestling match that was exponentially harder than it needed to be due to the amount they were both laughing. Once they couldn’t hold off the hunger anymore, they banged the snow off of – and out of – their clothes and hair, still chuckling as they exchanged friendly insults. It was going to be a long, hungry night, so they decided to rest through it rather than staying busy and getting hungrier. Tam was humming when they came back into the burrow. She lifted a single eyebrow at their matching grins and went back to stirring the little pot on the fire. Justin’s stomach rumbled loudly when the smell inside the burrow hit his nose. “What is …?” Tor loomed over the pot, frowning sharply when Tam elbowed him back. “It’s my surprise,” she said, pointing with the spoon at where each of them was meant to sit. “I found some squirrels and their cache this morning while I was looking for branches,” she told them once they were seated. She poured the mix into each bowl. It was a thin stew of meat, nuts, berries and sweet grasses, but it tasted good and there was enough for everyone to eat until they were momentarily full. “You’re amazing, Tam,” Tor complimented, leaning back and burping after finishing his last bite. “Agreed.” Justin was already washing out his dish with a handful of snow so that it could be dried and packed away. “It wasn’t –” “Shut your mouth, little sister,” Tor interrupted. “You can depreciate yourself privately in your head. Out here,” he pointed at the burrow in general, “the consensus is that you’re amazing. Now agree with me,” he demanded, grinning. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, about to say something different. He nudged her knee with the toe of his boot. “Agree with me because you know I’m right,” he pressed, his smile widening. “Tell me I’m right.” Justin chuckled at the two of them, making her blush. Tam heaved a sigh and started washing out the pot. “I did a good job making a surprise dinner,” she finally conceded. “That’s not what I said,” Tor argued, nudging her knee with his boot again. She smacked his leg so he nudged her a third time. “Say it,” he drew out the words and she sighed again. “I’m amazing,” she mumbled at the pot in her hands. “Yes, you are,” Tor agreed, sitting forward so that he could catch and hold her stare. “Never let anyone force you to believe different,” he stated, his tone and features suddenly serious.
Hello! The day one-more-thing'ed me all the way to after dinner without realizing all the hours were almost gone. Saved by the global time zone! It's still Saturday here lol.
The past couple of days have been a rush for getting things done. Mostly because I've wanted to, and also because I've had the spoons lately. Tomorrow will be another story (three busy days in a row is about my maximum), but the points tally of me against chores has been a clean sweep for me this week. Vacuuming, bathrooms, tidying, and some much needed wall patching and painting on the back landing are my wins this week. Not a bad score considering both kids are home on Fall break. I didn't get too much writing done, but had a few hours here and there I was able to dedicate to my keyboard before the chore days happened. A much needed scene was added to my big manuscript (in both senses of "need" because I needed it out of my head and the story sorely needed to have it), plus I got in some time on a couple of scene expansions and some editing. Overall it's been a good week for me, and I hope you're staying safe and healthy too. Have a good weekend! 11. Making Steam
“What are you trying to do?” Justin asked when her brother’s encouragement left Tam silently fuming.
“Usually we make these in the spring when the branches are green so they’ll bend.” She drew a curve with her finger around the wide end of the triangle. “But with them being frozen… right now they’ll just break if I try.” She huffed a sigh and dropped the triangle so she could stretch her hands. Justin picked up the dropped branch and peeled back some of the bark. Ice inside proved it was wet enough for bending, if he had a steam box. He untied the branches from their triangle as he thought about the supplies he had. They had water and fire, so he could easily have steam, but no way to evenly contain it. The branches were saturated from the wet winter, and only as thick as his thumb at most, so maybe heating them over steam would work well enough that they wouldn’t dry out and break for what Tam was saying she needed. They were small, so he could probably manipulate them without clamps once they were softened… “What are you thinking?” Tam interrupted his thoughts. Tor was watching him, too, when Justin looked up from where he’d started peeling the bark off the branch in his hand. “I can try bending these, if you want?” Justin answered her with a question. “I think it could work if we steam them. If not, at least we’d have tea.” “Was that a joke?” Tor asked before Tam could reply. “About the tea – did you just make a joke? As in, you actually are capable of humor?” Justin stared at him, suddenly self-conscious, and Tor beamed a smile back. “Ouch!” Tor exclaimed, his tone mocking, one of the smallest of the branches Tam had brought into the burrow bouncing off his shoulder after being thrown into the side of his head. “Get the blanket unravelled,” she ordered her brother. “Don’t you need a box for steaming?” she asked Justin. “Yeah,” Justin replied, grinning at their ongoing fighting as he turned back to peeling the bark. “We don’t have time to make one. Steaming just the part for the bend might work, though.” “What about these?” she asked after a glance around the burrow. Justin and Tor both looked to where she was pointing at Justin’s two straight swords nearby. The blades were wide and flat, as were the scabbards. Unfortunately, the branches she’d brought back were all longer than the full lengths of the swords. “Too short,” he said, dismissing the idea. Even using both her swords to square the box to steam one or two branches at a time, and wrapping it all in a blanket to insulate, it wouldn’t work properly if they couldn’t get an open box at the end opposite the water to allow steam on the full length of the wood. She reached over and turned one sword to face the opposite direction, then pulled each blade three quarters of the way out of the scabbards. “Would it be long enough now?”
***
The wolves left as the steaming started. It took a couple of tries to get the bending pressure application and finished curve right, and Tam had to go back out in the storm for more branches, but they were able to eat their small, final meal as the last branch was cooling. Justin spliced the bent pieces like tiny masts, and Tam bound them in place with the unwoven cord so the branches couldn’t spring back while they were cooling.
After eating, Tor took apart the impromptu steam box, hung the blanket to dry, and then started drying and cleaning the blades and scabbards. Once she finished eating, Tam went back to weaving tightly strung nets into the frames she and Justin had made. When Justin was done his meal, he picked up the icicles that he’d been holding before eating. “Those burns starting to feel any better?” Tor asked after a few minutes. “They’re starting to feel numb again,” Justin replied. Rather than focusing on himself and the few small burns on his palms, he turned to watch what Tam was doing. “Why a net?” he finally asked, actually curious. “If it’s solid, the snow gets on top and weights your steps,” she shrugged, her fingers moving almost too quickly to see the individual motions of the twists and knots. “That makes it just as hard to walk as it would be without the snowshoes, or harder. A net lets the loose snow through but still packs the snow underneath to hold enough weight to keep us on top. Sinews work the best – the snow doesn’t stick as badly as it will to these cords – but these will work for the two hours we’ll need them. They’ll have good snowshoes at the mine.” As had been the topic of conversation whenever they had time to converse, Tor began listing off the details of the mine’s layout. Half of it was an open pit, and the other half was made up of tunnels bored into the base of a mountain with their entrances on one side of the pit’s bottom. There were guard posts set in a ring around the top of the pit – one at about every ten draughtsides – and a small town for the guards and their families was on the opposite side of the valley from where the trio would be approaching. The slaves and criminals who worked the mine, when they weren’t laboring, were kept in two long rows of steel cages on the same side the trio was approaching from. The cages were inside the ring of guard posts, one on top of the other, and it was a sheer drop from the rim of the pit to the tops of the first row of cages of at least five idlesides. The drop from the cages and the single road leading to and from them was to the bottom of the pit. Justin focused on the conversation more than usual as now he needed to have it memorized. Every word – every spoken thought – that Tor could provide, Justin committed to memory.
Election week in the USA... coronavirus cases on the rise to record breaking for daily new positive tests in Alberta... and out in public I see people force-smiling the holiday spirit early due to how rough 2020 has been in general... My little corner of the world has been having a lot of negative external forces shoving at it this week. I'm guessing everyone's little corners are feeling the external pressure. I really hope, for all of us, we can find a calm spot inside our little corners to just breathe for a few minutes before going back to dealing with all our pressures.
As for happenings inside my little corner, last week was pretty good. I called my kids in absent from school on different days so we could have one-on-one time together, the oldest on Tuesday and youngest on Wednesday. That made for two days in a row of freaking awesomeness. Out for lunch, a bit of shopping so they could blow the last of their Christmas money from last year, and a lot of laughs. Plus, my husband is happy at his new job. For the first time in many years, his hours are based on a 40-hour working week and he has evenings and weekends off. He's also doing things that compliment his existing skill set while still being refreshingly new, for a company that seems to reward and retain good employees. For both of us, it feels a lot like he's working with and for unicorns at the moment lol. I know eventually the glow should wear off, but all the employees are treated like living people and they like working there (even the long term people pushing 20 years there)! After a 30-year career where he was treated like a numbered and disposable wheel cog, I feel like he's got the right opinion that this new place is downright amazing. I got a couple rooms in my house cleaned, did a bit of writing, watched a couple movies I've been wanting to see but never gave myself the time to watch until now, and overall had an above-decent week. Giving myself permission to take a break improved my mental health by about a gajillion percent... and post-Halloween "sale candy" is probably a treat I'll still be enjoying after this Christmas rolls past lol. (Seriously, two mini chocolate bars and I'm done... my sugar tolerance is sad and very low.) I hope you're safe and well this weekend! 10. Wolves
Justin saw two rabbits were curled against Tor when he woke up. Tam snatched them up and broke their necks with practiced hands the moment she looked over to see if her brother was awake yet. They spent a quiet day under the branches and shared a pitiful stew that afternoon, using up the last of the wilted vegetables without any seasoning. The luxury of a hot meal was worth it.
Their burrow was completely enclosed by snow now, and the heat from the tiny fire warmed the space to the point of being only cool. Tam had initially been worried about the smoke from their fire being spotted, but Tor assured her they were close enough to the mine to look like hunters from there, so it wouldn’t draw attention. And it was still snowing, so the likelihood of anyone seeing smoke through the storm was impossible. They curled back to sleep for another full night once it was dark again, hoping for the snow to stop falling while they slept. There was laughter. The quiet chuckles merged with good childhood memories that formed soft dreams to wake up from. Justin blinked awake, nearly happy, and looked around the burrow as he tried to orient himself for where he was. Tam was gone and Tor was laughing and… Justin blinked, scrubbed his eyes with his knuckles, and looked again. Tor really was gently wrestling with three young wolves as the she-wolf slept nearby. The cubs were lanky and lean, but their coats were just as shiny and full as their mother’s, and each young wolf likely already weighed the same as Tam. Justin glanced at the she-wolf as he was sitting up. He froze half-way through the motion when her yellow stare snapped awake in his direction. Tor reached over and scratched her neck roughly. She grumbled happily at the affection but otherwise didn’t move. “I met Ki in the spring before last,” Tor stated, the she-wolf’s gaze shifting to him as he spoke and freeing Justin to finish sitting up. “She’d been caught in a snare for what looked like a week or so. Her leg was raw and she was starving.” He picked up the leg in question and showed Justin the heavy scar circling above her foot. “Her cubs had been too little and had starved around her. There were a lot of tracks from a man nearby, and a few other wolf tracks that ended in blood. The rest of the loops in the line were empty, so we figured the rock-mind who set the snares was just leaving her to die slowly while using her as a way to lure in the rest of the pack,” he explained. “It was cruel,” he added under his breath. Justin looked at the healthy wolf laying a few palmsides away and tried to imagine her being as sick and weak as what Tor was describing. “Jin and I cut her loose and I carried her back to our camp. It took the whole summer for her to get healthy again, and she stayed with us for most of the fall and winter. She had gotten really fat when this Spring started,” he said, grinning at Justin. “Which explained why she only spent most of her time with us. Now she’s a happy mam, with three big sons, and I only see her when our patrols cross this valley.” The sons in question tumbled across the burrow, deciding they wanted to play harder than Tor would play with them. Justin chuckled at the cubs, impressed at how well they dodged the small fire, earning him another wary stare from Ki. “Most people think wolves are terrible,” Tor said. “They’re really not. Their packs are families and all the adults puke up meals they’ve eaten to feed cubs who aren’t big enough to hunt yet.” Ki snarled a bite toward her cubs when they tumbled too close to her and all three contritely stopped playing. Tor laughed at them and scratched Ki’s neck again. “You’re a good mam, Ki, to be able to keep these boys in check,” he praised her. The young wolves noticed Justin was watching them and, curiosity filling their yellow stares now that they saw he was awake, each tentatively approached close enough to sniff at him. He held out his empty hands, chuckling when two went behind him and tickled the back of his neck with their noses. Their curiosity satisfied, one returned to play with Tor and the other two piled into a knot on top of the remaining warmth where Justin’s torso had just been lying. Playful growling and quiet chuckles followed when Justin crawled outside the burrow and relieved his bladder a short distance away. He turned to go back and noticed Tor’s rope tied to one of the trees at the furthest edge of the copse they were camping in. Tam’s steps were barely dimples under the fast-falling snow; the trail left behind aiming away in the same direction that the long end of the rope was stretched before disappearing completely under the new snowfall. He thought about following the rope, worrying about her being alone after the failed ambush at the shed, but hesitating due to how relaxed Tor and the wolves had been. He instead crawled back inside the burrow. If he was going to go after her, he at least needed to be fully armed. “She didn’t go far enough to get into any trouble. She only took one rope-length,” Tor stated as Justin was reaching for his swords. “We’ll be out of food today, so we have to get moving again in spite of the storm. The mine is about two hours away in this weather, but we can’t walk through the snow because it’s too deep now,” Tor said, still shoving the young wolf around as he was talking. “She knows the right things we need to make snowshoes for walking on top of it.” “Snowshoes?” Justin asked, completely unfamiliar with the term. Tor only smiled wider and continued play fighting with the cub. “You’ll see.” Tam returned not long after and they rationed out the last of the food to eat later – a stale bun and small strip of salted meat each – before she started organizing the things she’d brought back. Three piles of variously sized branches, some fibrous plant leaves, and a few peelings of bark were set up around her when she was done. “I need the cord the blanket is woven from,” she said, handing one of their blankets to Tor. “Do not cut it,” she added, seeing him first grab his knife. “Undo the weaving.” “Why not just use the rope?” Justin asked. “It’s a waste of good rope,” she shrugged. “This cord will work fine for the short time we need it. We can steal better supplies from the mine.” Justin watched her lay out a few of the branches in an elongated triangle shape and then lash the intersections together. As soon as she started looping the initial length of cord from the blanket tightly over and under the triangle, two of the sides collapsed. She huffed in frustration after half an hour and four attempts. “You’ll get it figured,” Tor encouraged her. |
AManda FLIEDERThis was a weekly blog updating on Fridays, but life got busy so now I pop in now and then to let you know I'm still chipping away at my stories. If you look back through the archive you'll find weekly quick personal blurbs about me, as in what's going on during my life as an Author and mom, and that doles out my short stories and novellas in bite-sized parts for everyone to read for free! Check out my Short Stories section for free downloads of most of my writing, too! Archives
March 2024
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