Chapter 37: If There Were a Reason

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I remember holding the tarp in my clenched fists, pulling our burden down the slope, toward the Wall of the World. My feet are so cold, but I’m panting and sweating from the warmth of the wind and the exertion.

We reach the Wall and a peasant and Jimbe jump over. The peasant’s feet are purple. I’m afraid to look at them, afraid that they are hurt, like a wound, one that might not get better.

The peasant bends back over the rock wall to take his corner of the tarp. He motions for Jimbe to do the same and looks to us. My hands hurt, but I gather up the tarp in my fists again. The other peasant grabs up his corner.

“Ai. Ai. Ai,” the peasants say.

The peasants lift hard. Jimbe and I look confused before we lift as well.

The momentum is spent before we can get the body up. The peasants look at us and shake their heads, showing an almost human exasperation with us.

The motion for us to begin again.

“Ai. Ai. Ai!” The third sound is the signal and we all lift together now, getting the body in the tarp high enough to walk the body over the wall.

We set him down again and the peasant and I hop over the wall.

It’s the first time I stand on the other side of the Wall of the World. It is not a good place to be.

The ground here is flat and soggy with the half-melted snow. We continue with our burden, the last few paces to the edge.

The two peasants look to the sky, still full of life but not as lush with fish as it had been before. They call out in their weird jibbering something like a song.

Then they carry the body of the dead peasant the last few steps and call out, “Ai. Ai. Ai!”

On the last sound, they let fly the body over the edge.

I turn around and cover my face in my hands.

It’s the first time I see a body fall forever.

Someone claps me on the shoulder. It’s a peasant. He points up the slope, over the Wall of the World.

“Sky have mercy,” I say.

“Sky have mercy,” Jimbe says.

The peasants walk back up the slope.

The snow is mostly melted after we - after we -

The snow is mostly melted in the warm air as I head back to the cottage. The peasants go their own way. I don’t know whether to say goodbye to them or what I should say. They stumble with their frozen feet so that I wonder whether they, too, will soon fall forever.

“Happy in the Light,” I say to Sabill as I approach the cottage. She stands - the ground is far too wet to sit - by the lantern. As I approach, I can see that Trinket has lit it, again.

“You stink of peasant,” she says. “You need to get those people out of the cottage.”

“Your father hates them,” I say. “Why must you?”

“Get them out,” she says and turns to go to the privy.

In the cottage, the drapes are down on the door to the parlor. Someone - could it have been Lianth and his daughter, by themselves? Someone had moved the sofa back into the parlor.

“Hello,” I say, bending over the head woman and reaching for her chin. “Are you ready to go outside?”

“Yes, Bessil. Happy in the Light.”

I bend down to put my head by her stomach and gather her body over my shoulder. I make it sound more graceful than I felt, but manage to get her up and stagger to the door. Then I seat her at the door frame and tended to her cords.

I gathered them gently, in both hands, pulling them from under the bench. We had coiled their cords carefully, when we settled in for the dark, but, ropes have mind and they’d gotten messed up.

I put the coil down on the ground and pulled the head woman through the door.

The cords rise up as this happens and she now stands over me, reaching up to touch her own chin.

“I’ll to the privy. Do not hurt yourself in getting us outside, Bessil,” she says. “Hurting you was never part of our bargain.”

Sabill had come back from the privy and waited to go into the cabin.

“I need help with the man,” I say.

“Go find Jimbe or something,” she says.

“You can help me,” I say.

“I’m not some common carter,” she says. “It’s your work. You do it.”

With that, she walks into the cottage, straight through to the parlor.

The other woman is a little taller than her sister, but I am rested a little and know more how to bear her. Again, I get her over my shoulder and get her to the door. Again, I gather up her cords in a neat coil and drag her out the door.

I feel the weight of her lift as I bring her off until she stands next to me, briefly, before hurrying off to the privy.

“Come on, lad,” says Lianth, beckoning me back into the cottage. Without further explanation, he helps me jostle the man off the bench into the doorway. I gather up the cords while Lianth drags the man through the door.

After the man goes on his way, Lianth says to me, “We’ll stay here for a bit - a couple of meals - to rest after the dark. Then we’ll make our way again.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, but Lianth hears the thoughts of my heart.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be hate if there was a reason,” he says. “I’m a man, Bessil. I’ve earned my way. Earn yours and then you can criticize.”

With that, he turns and goes back into the parlor.

By and by, the three People of the Square gather near the path. The head woman beckons to me. I go over. She opens a pouch and I watch, not understanding how someone pulling on her cords could produce such fine movements.

“You’re staring,” says the head woman’s sister.

“There’s another day,” I say.

“There’s another day,” the head woman’s sister responds. The People of the Square rarely respond to calls. Perhaps they don’t like the trouble of reaching up to their jaws to speak.

The head woman holds out her hand and I hold out mine to accept my two shells in payment.

“You’ve done well,” the Head woman tells me.

“Why do you not answer my questions?” I ask, feeling the two shells in my strong hand. “About your - ways? Are they secret?”

It’s the head woman’s sister who responds.

“They are our ways,” she says. “You cannot live them. We tell our stories as best we can, and they are our own stories, not answers to other people’s questions. Happy in the light.”

“Happy in the light,” I say.

The three People of the Square turn and walk along the Path of the World, their soft-clad feet barely touching the knife-sharp shards.

I tuck my two shells away and turn back to the cottage.

Submitted: August 15, 2023

Fantasy sprite goblins bones