Darkthaw (8 page)

And it was easier to send them out when it wasn't my decision. But casting them away from my own fire—now, that's something different altogether. And now that I know the Bleed might be out here . . .

“Don't know if they can be trusted.” I'm not outright asking him what he thinks, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not hoping for an answer. He's quiet. “Don't know how Charlie feels about Kane,” I try again.

Andre's eyes soften. “Talk. To
les autres
,” he says, gentle.

I fight back tears. “Yes.”

I let him put an arm around my shoulders as we walk back to the fire and realize with a pang that his gruff warmth reminds me of my pa.

“NO.” THE WORD DROPS FROM ISI'S LIPS LIKE A
stone.

“We can't just leave them here,” I say, looking around at the others. Matisa and Nishwa exchange a glance. Kane watches me. I'd pulled him aside, told him first. He didn't have much to say, just asked me if I was sure. Then he put his fingers to his lips, then to mine, and said, “I've told you before: I'm with you.” But there was a flash of worry in his dark eyes.

“Your people sent them away,” Isi reminds me.

“That was the settlement's say-so. This—this is our choice, now,” I say, but Isi crosses his arms. “We'll just get them to the next settlement we see. Leaving them to perish isn't right.”

“And if we do not find a settlement?” Nishwa asks. “Do you expect us to bring them to our people?” He's not asking it unkindly.

“I d-d-don't know,” I stutter. “Henderson talked about a settlement to the west of the crossing. One that had registered with the Dominion . . .”

“You do not
know
that it exists,” Isi points out. “Or if they would accept them if it does.”

Matisa leans forward. “Why do you ask this, Em?” she asks, not like she's irate, but like she truly wants to know.

“I just . . .” I trail off and look at her, helpless-like. She studies me. “I just feel like giving them a chance is something I need to do. If we could just get them someplace better—”

“We are delayed already,” Isi says. “We will not waste more time searching for a settlement that may not exist.”

“It is true that it may not exist,” Matisa says, “and even if it does, it could take us days to find it.” Isi nods, satisfied. “But,” she continues, “the crossing itself is not too far. We could take them there. They could make their own way east—the mapmaker said there was a military outpost that way.”

“Matisa—”

“The big river winds to the west,” she cuts Isi off. “If we alter our path to the southeast, it would be less than a day out of our way.”

“It is a better plan than hoping we find a place for them along the way,” Nishwa agrees.

Relief sweeps me. It dulls when I meet Isi's glare. “I know it's a burden,” I say to him. “But that little child, that unborn baby—”

“Bring them then,” Isi says. “But not Charlie.”

“You know they won't go without him.”

“That is their choice.”

I blow out a frustrated breath and look to Kane.

“Charlie's too weak to think about harming us,” Kane says, careful. “And Rebecca's with child.”

“So you agree with Em?” Nishwa asks.

“I understand why she's asking,” Kane says.

I have half a thought that he didn't exactly answer Nishwa's question.

“Hatred buries itself deep,” Isi mutters.

I turn to Matisa. “Do
you
think it's dangerous?”

“I think this is your decision,” she says. “His family wronged yours, but he is your people. The weight of that history lies with you. We should respect your wishes.” She looks at Isi.

I swallow. “But do you think Charlie is the same kind of person his pa was?”

She turns back, her brown eyes measuring me. “Who can say? We are all walking a new path, now.”

“I can't leave them.”

Matisa nods and looks to Isi again. He looks away, his jaw clenched.

“Let's get moving,” says Kane. “We're losing the light.”

Isi and Nishwa are on foot now. It was Nishwa's idea to give their horses to Rebecca and Josiah, who are too weak to keep up. It was a practical decision, but I know Nishwa's soft heart made him speak before anyone else thought of it. Isi's beyond prickly now; he gave Kane's brothers a stiff shake of his head when they asked to walk with him and paced off
ahead of us. Matisa consoled the little boys by putting them on her horse, and they look happy enough, but Isi slighting them like that bothers me.

And I can't get his words out of my head:
Hatred buries itself deep
.

I push the thought aside. Surely doing the right thing will help things turn out all right for all of us.

Still, nobody was inclined to sit out around the fire last night; we all ate and turned in quick. There was no
mescacâkan
song; just the thin drizzle of rain on our tarps. I shut my eyes tight and prayed for sleep.

Now I walk with Kane and Nishwa, out of earshot of Charlie, who limps behind us, beside Isi's horse carrying Rebecca. Matisa showed him how to lead the horse and he's doing all right keeping pace. That Almighty-cursed limp doesn't seem to bother him too much; he's stronger than I figured.

They know we're only taking them to the crossing, that they'll have to journey to that Dominion outpost on their own. Even so, Rebecca's face is going to crack from her big smile; it's clear she's so relieved she doesn't know which end is up.

Was a mite surprised Kane's ma was agreeable about bringing them along, considering Charlie might harbor some hate toward Kane. But I suppose being a mother makes her more inclined to help. I notice, though, she's keeping the little boys away from Charlie's lot.

Kane reaches out to lace his hand through mine. My pulse doesn't skip like it normally does—I'm too distracted. We walk, our moccasins whispering on the mossy forest floor.

Long moments of silence. I can't take it anymore. “Do you think we did the right thing?” I say to no one, to Kane and Nishwa both. I toss my head back toward Charlie and Rebecca.

Kane squeezes my hand in reply. “I know why you wanted to do it,” he says.

Again, he didn't truly answer the question. “But everyone's skittered, aren't they?” I ask.

“People were skittered to begin with,” Nishwa says. I smile at him using our word for feeling scared—sounds funny on his tongue—but his observation doesn't make me feel better.

When I think about Charlie's family, with their sunken eyes and bones poking through their wind-eaten clothes, I feel like we did the right thing. But I also feel like I'm dragging my old life along with me.

“Do you think we can trust him?” I look to Kane.

He rubs his free hand up the back of his neck to his shaved head. “Don't know. But hopefully we won't have to.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I don't want to get in a situation where our lives are in his hands. We keep him at arm's reach, we shouldn't have a problem.”

In the late afternoon, the forest thins out in all directions and gives way to small hills with low brush. We press south, heading back to the river that winds past our settlement in the north.

Our group splinters a mite as we traverse the hills and wander around the pockets of brush. The incline is a bit of
work on my foot, and as I pause to take a drink of my tincture, I fall behind Kane and Nishwa. Voices drift through the scrub, coming down the hill. Charlie and Rebecca. For the moment I'm hidden from their view, and for some reason I stay this way.

Rebecca's voice reaches me as they approach. “—do it?”

“No,” Charlie answers as they pass by, “ain't the right time—”

Rebecca looks to the side and catches sight of me. “Hi, Em!” she blurts, her hand flying to her belly—a nervous gesture. Charlie cranes his neck around Isi's horse, pulling it to a stop.

“Not the right time for what?” I ask.

Charlie squints. There's a pause. “Just talking about this baby here.” He gestures to his sister's swollen frame. “I'm telling her to wait until we get to this ‘Dominion' you told us about.”

My eyebrows raise. “Don't think she has much choice in the matter.” I say those words, but I'm wishing they weren't true. Kane's ma says Rebecca will have that babe soon. She looked at me meaningful when she said it, and I know she was thinking on me helping Soeur Manon with the birthing women at the Healing House. Except I never truly helped, only cleaned up after, whether the birthing went wrong or right. And I don't miss it. My stomach tightens looking at Rebecca; she's so helpless out here. Never want to be like that.

“Suppose you're right.” Charlie shrugs. “Just . . . you're helping us so much. Don't want to be any more of a burden than we already are.”

“It's fine,” I say. There's something about the way they're looking at me that sets my skin prickling. Something about this feels wrong. Feels—

“Em,” he says, “we know it was you convinced the rest to help us.” He takes a step toward me. “You're a helping sort, ain't you? You help others like it's second nature.” Up this close Charlie's blue eyes are burning straight into me, showing me things I don't want to know about: desperate cold and hunger, watching his family starve.

I swallow. “I think everyone should get a new start, if they want it.”

“That what you're heading for?” Rebecca asks. “A new start?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, that sounds mighty good,” Charlie says. “We could use one, too.”

The sun shines bright on their hollow faces, making them squint. Like they're looking into daylight for the very first time.

“Going to catch up with Kane,” I mumble. I leave them as quick as my foot will allow. My skin doesn't stop prickling for a good long while.

By evening we come upon a sheltered spot in the forest and make camp. Everyone is tired. It's rockier terrain here, and the going was rough. We've skirted boulders and slipped down shale-laden inclines. Henderson described the land changing like this; I hope it means we're getting close to the crossing.

Nishwa caught two rabbits in the afternoon, but they're
not enough for the twelve of us, so once the tents are up, Kane, Isi, and Nishwa try hunting again. Frère Andre heads out on his usual patrol.

“Can I come?” Daniel asks him. The boys are at loose ends without Isi's attention. Nico pouts by the horses, brushing them in a halfhearted way.

Andre shakes his head no but ruffles Daniel's hair kindly.

A splinter of ice pangs in my heart as I watch his shrivelled form stomp away from us, off through the trees.
La Prise
was hard this year, and he's getting up there in his years. His daughter's words ring in my head: “
Go see the world, Papa
.”

I breathe deep against the icy feeling and set to my chores for dinner. As I measure out the bulb flour into a wooden bowl to mix for bannock, my thoughts fly back to Rebecca and Charlie.

When we left their tattered camp, Charlie said he was sorry for the things his pa did. I want to believe that. They want a new start. And I want this new world to help us leave that dark past forever. So why is that ice creeping back into my chest?

Matisa's voice breaks my thoughts: “Where are the little boys?”

I look up from mixing the bannock. She's been skinning the rabbits and her hands are stained pink with blood.

I glance around. It's quiet inside the tents.

Sister Violet is hanging the washing on a thin line of cord that extends between the trees.

“Don't know for sure.”

“Did they go with Isi?”

“No.”

Matisa looks off into the trees.

“Probably just gone wandering,” I mutter, casting a side glance at Sister Violet. “I'll get after them.”

I leave the center of camp casual so as not to attract her attention—don't need her getting riled—and head toward the far side of the grove.

It's this moment I notice Charlie's tent is silent and none of his family are milling about. They aren't given chores; Frère Andre thought it best we keep our goings-on separate from them, treat them as guests, not part of us, and everyone agreed: nobody wants them to get the notion we're taking them any farther than the river crossing. But they're usually about, getting underfoot somewhere.

I drop my bowl and stirring stick as I approach the tent.

Rebecca's lying down inside. She raises her head when I look in.

“Where's Charlie?” I ask.

“He wanted to show the little boys something in the woods.”

My heart stops. “Which way did they set off?”

She stares at me.

“Rebecca! Which way?”

“Off past those bunches of spruce, I think. Em, what's—”