Promised (5 page)

Wanting to see the Enclave for the first time again with Leon beside her, Gaia automatically hitched Maya higher and started walking back along the line of travelers, with Mikey in her wake.

In the distance, one of the crims stopped to wait while his chainmate maneuvered their ankle chain around a rock, and then they came forward again. The next pair of prisoners, each carrying a heavy skin full of water on his back, was impeded at the same place, and managed the same clumsy dance. She watched it twice more before she dragged her gaze away, looking for Leon, and found him in the back. Leon was helping to carry a platform laden with water sacks and spelling one of the crims who trailed behind, head bowed, hands on his hips, moving his legs in exact mimic of his chainmate so as not to disrupt his chainmate's stride.

Gaia had never been happy about the crims. Back in Sylum, after she'd been elected Matrarc, many of the prisoners had been retried and their sentences commuted. Others had been released to their families, leaving incarcerated only the forty who were convicted of the most violent crimes.

The families who had elected to stay behind in Sylum, a minority of two hundred people, had not wanted to be burdened with running the prison. Their leader, Mlady Maudie, had argued vociferously that Gaia should take all the crims with her on trail, and after weeks of negotiating, they had ended up one night at a table in the lodge, dealing out the files of the prisoners into two piles and trading to see which crims would stay and which would go.

Mlady Maudie had offered to swap a murderer for five of Gaia's lesser criminals.

“We need to keep our numbers down,” Leon had said quietly, turning aside to confer with Gaia. He had once been unjustly imprisoned with the crims himself, and he'd been running the prison since Gaia had become Matrarc.

“We won't be able to guard them forever,” Gaia had said to him, considering. “What if he breaks free and kills us all in the night? What if he kills us when we reach Wharfton?”

“He won't,” Leon had said, explaining what he knew of the men's characters, and Gaia had trusted Leon's guidance on the matter.

In the end, Leon took charge of twelve crims for the exodus. Those twelve traveled the first three-quarters of the trail many times over, carrying stockpiles of water and supplies for replenishment stations along the route. Their thankless labor had been critical for setup long before the huge exodus ever began.

“Come on, Mlass Matrarc!” a youthful voice called from the ridge. “You can see the Enclave from here, with the towers and the wall! It's amazing!”

“Wait for me,” Gaia called back. “Just wait there. Break for lunch. I'm taking care of the crims.”

Leon looked up at her voice. “Hold up there,” he said to the crims, and coordinated with his team to lower their platform.

The other crims lowered their heavy water skins and stood panting under the bright sun, their gray and tan clothes saturated with sweat. Leon took off his hat to brush back his sweaty hair as he approached, and Gaia met the piercing blue of his eyes when he put the hat back on.

“What's up?” he asked.

“It's time. We can't go over the ridge with the crims in chains,” she said. “I don't want Wharfton or the Enclave to see us like this.”

She watched his gaze shift skeptically up the ridge. The travelers had put down their packs, and many were lounging on boulders amid the dry grass, passing canteens and resting their feet as they broke out their midday victuals. In contrast to their sturdy wholesomeness, the chained crims appeared even more depraved and vicious. What was more, the segregation of one small dangerous group cast an unsavory pall over everyone else, too.

They couldn't afford to look disunified.

“I see your point,” Leon said. He turned to the crims, unclipping an iron key from his belt. “Malachai, you first.”

The tallest crim and his chainmate left their burdens and made their way forward. Malachai was a stiff, deep-chested man with a rough, dark beard and gnarly knuckles who had killed his wife. Claiming self-defense and defense of his children from her abuse had not convinced the jury to release him. He had a way of regarding Gaia with an unblinking concentration that made her uneasy, and yet she knew Leon trusted him completely.

“What's going on?” called a burly man, strolling back down the ridge toward them. Bill, a thick-headed, well-liked miner from the rowdy end of Sylum, worked a lump of chaw in his cheek as he spoke. “I don't remember anything about freeing the crims. What are you doing?”

Behind Bill came several of the miners from his clan.

“It was part of the deal,” Gaia said. “The crims staged our supply drops and carried extra water for us in exchange for their freedom once we arrived. We've essentially arrived.”

“Nobody asked me about this deal,” Bill said.

“It was part of negotiations back in Sylum, weeks ago,” Gaia said. “You maybe don't recall.”

“I don't like it,” Bill said. “You there, Vlatir, hold up a second.”

Leon had already undone the shackles on Malachai's and his chainmate's ankles. He looked briefly at Bill, then moved pointedly to the next pair of crims.

“Hey!” Bill said. “I'm talking to you!”

Leon straightened. He gave no overt command, but as fast as their chains would allow, the twelve crims circled defensively around Leon, Gaia, and Maya. Positioning himself between Gaia and Bill, Malachai picked up his chain and gripped it in one hand, silently prepared to swing it into savage motion.

The only one more surprised than Bill was Gaia herself.

“What's this?” Bill demanded.

“Leon, stop them,” Gaia said.

“They aren't doing anything,” Leon said.

“I said stop!” Gaia commanded.

“Drop the chain, Malachai,” Leon said.

“He can't threaten Mlass Gaia,” Malachai said.

“Nobody's threatening me,” Gaia said. “It was a misunderstanding. Drop your chain. Now!”

Malachai did, slowly setting his fists on his hips, still facing Bill.

“Did you see that? They're savages!” Bill said.

Others were coming rapidly down from the ridge. Several of the archers readied their bows. On Gaia's hip, Maya began to whimper.

“Put up your bows,” Gaia said. “No more of this. You'll treat the excrims with respect. They're citizens of New Sylum now, and they have the same rights as anyone else. Yourself included,” she added to Bill.

The archers lowered their bows but remained on alert. Gaia reflexively smoothed a hand around Maya's back, and she watched as Bill's gaze shifted to the little girl.

“You're scaring the baby,” Bill said.

“Are you done?” Gaia asked.

Bill turned once more to the crims, then to the others who had gathered around, and he gave out a loud, aggressive laugh of disbelief. Maya began to cry in earnest, and Gaia slid her up out of the sling to cuddle her close to her neck. “You're okay, baby,” she said softly, still watching Bill. Maya's wail subsided into a little hiccupping sob, and the tiny girl wrapped her soft hand around Gaia's neck. As Gaia kept her gaze zeroed on Bill, demanding his concession, she felt the prickling, volatile silence of the others around them.

“Tell me you understand,” Gaia said.

“All right,” Bill said. “But if they harm any one of us, so help me, I'll personally rip them apart.”

“And you'll face the consequences for vigilantism if you do,” Gaia said.

“Is that so? Are you and your boyfriend going to run the courts in Wharfton when we get there?” Bill asked.

Gaia took a step nearer. “You'd better hope I'm still in charge when we get there,” she said darkly. “You mess around in Wharfton or the Enclave and you'll get strung up fast with no questions asked.”

Bill's eyebrows lifted. “What kind of place are you taking us to?”

“It's brutal,” Gaia said. “We've discussed this. Do you want to go back to Sylum to die there? You still can. We'll give you enough water to go back,” she said. She shifted Maya to her other shoulder. “That goes for anyone else, too.” She faced up the hill to where the others waited. “Once we go over that ridge,” she called, “there's no going back.

Uneasiness rippled tangibly through the crowd.

“None of this is going to be easy. Life outside the wall is hard, and in some ways it's even worse inside. But if we stay together,” Gaia said, “if we can count on each other, no matter what, I know we can build our new home in New Sylum, just as we've planned. That means we can't start out divided, with some of us already second-class citizens. Do you all understand?”

She picked out the clan leaders, one by one, to be sure they were with her. Dinah represented the libbies and the fishermen families from down by the shore; Norris's cousin, a cobbler, headed up the trade workers who had run shops side by side in the center of Sylum; Mlady Beebe represented many of the homeowners from around the commons; Mlady Roxanne, the teacher, led a large group of loosely connected laborers; and the morteur, Chardo Will, who was Gaia's second in command and Peter's brother, led the largest clan of hardworking, quiet men who had never married.

One after another, eighteen clan leaders nodded to confirm their loyalty, and then Will nodded toward Bill the nineteenth and final leader.

“How about it?” Will asked in his calm, steady voice. “Where do the miners stand?”

Bill shouldered his pack again and sauntered a couple steps toward the ridge. “I already said it. If any crim messes with me and mine, I'll break his neck. But I wanted to get out of that death trap back home my whole life. The miners aren't going back. That's where we stand on that.”

A couple of the other miners chimed in. Gaia gave Maya another pat on her back and exhaled in deep relief as the crowd began to move again. Leon turned to unlock the remaining chains. One excrim peered down at his ankle and lifted his foot as if testing the unaccustomed lightness. Beside him, Malachai was hugging a young boy. Gaia had expected more of a celebration, but aside from a few smiles and back slaps, the excrims seemed content to stand together, patiently waiting instruction.

Gaia glanced at Leon. “We still need the rest of this gear.”

“We've got it, Mlass Gaia,” Malachai said, nodding respectfully. “Your dad's free now, son,” he said softly to his boy. “None of that now. Not to worry.”

Leon dumped the chains on the water platform with a heavy rattling, and took a place alongside the platform. Three of the excrims took up the other places, while the remaining men picked up their burdens, no longer forced but voluntarily.

Gaia met Leon's gaze, wondering.

He smiled at her, as if he'd expected all along that his men would continue to operate as a unit. “Go ahead,” he told her.

She took a few steps, pausing to look back. Apparently, she wouldn't be going over the ridge with Leon beside her.

“Ready?” Leon asked. “On three.”

The four men lifted the platform of water sacks as one, and started forward. One of them said something Gaia didn't catch, but she heard the genuine warmth in Leon's responding laughter.

“He has them more in control than ever,” Will said.

Gaia turned, surprised to see he'd fallen in beside her. Will's face and hands had gained extra color during his weeks in the wasteland, and his tan strengthened his resemblance to Peter, his younger brother. He had a beard now, too, like all the other men who hadn't shaved on trail, and she decided the darkness delineating his jaw suited him.

“It's a little frightening,” she agreed. “Like he has his own mini army of loyal followers now.”

“I expect their loyalty extends to you,” Will said. “I'm not sure how much farther.”

She smiled, and as she walked, she peered up under the brim of his hat to his kind brown eyes. “How've you been, anyway?”

“Good. I haven't had the chance yet to congratulate you on your engagement.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at her red bracelet.

“Be happy, Mlass Gaia. You deserve it.”

She laughed. “Thanks. So do you.”

He settled his thumbs under the shoulder straps of his heavy pack. “Will Vlatir mind if we're still friends?” he asked.

“He hasn't minded so far,” she said. “We've worked so well together.”

“That's true.”

Beyond Will, along the ridge top, people were sorting themselves out, preparing to move on.

“I've been wondering what's best,” Will said mildly.

She glanced up at him. He was smiling, but some faint guardedness hinted that their friendship might be at a turning point. Her heart felt a twitch of alarm. If she knew a friend was in love with her, but he never asked for anything and accepted he could never have more, was she responsible for any heartache he might suffer?

“I don't know what to say,” she admitted.

“I guess we'll see, then, won't we?” he said.

I guess
, she thought.

Gaia continued to carry Maya up the weather-beaten slope with Will silent beside her. Her heart began to work in her chest, as much from eagerness as exertion. A couple of boys went by with a pack of goats, their bells tinking in the dry heat.

With each step, the horizon of the ridge grew nearer, until finally Gaia breached it and the last expanse of wasteland stretched before her, a great, shimmering landscape of brown and white and gray. In the distance, the Enclave rose on a majestic hill. Its towers and white roofs and the spike of the obelisk cut a distinct skyline against the blue above, while below, the great, impregnable wall divided the city from the tumbling gray structures of Wharfton, her home. Farther below, the sweep of the vast unlake fell away toward the south.

Gaia took a long, deep breath. “That's it, Maya,” she said to her sister.

Will paused beside her. “It's bigger than I expected.”