Chapter 9 #2
This morning was colder than yesterday. Nothing was melting now, and it appeared as though a fresh layer of snow had fallen in the night. Blue sky, dark green trees, and satin-shimmer white made up the scene, warmed in colour if not temperature by the yellow sun.
“Will we take the wagon again?”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Warden Hallum replied. “It’s more work for the shuldu, and it’s slower. Especially with the snow. I do have a sled, which we could have used last night, but it was much too small to fit your things.”
“That’s fine. Sled is great. Or I can ride one of the shuldu!”
“Do you have experience with such things?”
“None at all!” I answered. “But I’m always willing to learn. Especially since I’ll be here for a while.”
He appeared to ponder this, then said, “You can learn, certainly. But not today. I will teach you when the ground is less icy. Much of the melt from yesterday has frozen.”
“Fair. So, the sled, then?”
“Either that or the slicer, which has an engine and is the fastest option.”
“If you’re not in a big rush,” I replied, “I think I’d like to try the sled.”
“There is no rush,” he confirmed. Though something told me that Warden Hallum never rushed no matter what – he always did things precisely at the speed he meant to. “Xennet and Dorn will need time to finish their morning chores and make their way on shuldu-back to the saloon.”
“Sled it is!”
He led me from the porch down onto the snow.
I barely felt the new layer of it beneath, because he had already shovelled a meticulous path for us – perfectly straight and smooth.
He took me to a building on the property that I hadn’t noticed before.
It was partially hidden by trees, beyond the little barn where the shuldu were.
It was like a large, wood garage, and in it was the wagon from yesterday, a big contraption with a seat that I assumed was the slicer he’d mentioned, and the smallest of them all, a solid wood seat on top of a set of metal skis.
This was probably the most stuff Warden Hallum had gathered in one place, besides maybe his cellar with the food supplies.
Unlike his bedroom, this had shelves and tables that actually appeared to be used from time to time.
Various tools as well as things like rope and buckets and barrels were out here, all very neatly arranged of course.
Though the sled was certainly smaller than the slicer or the wagon, it still looked heavy – I’d guess at least 50 kilos.
But Warden Hallum didn’t hesitate after approaching it.
He squatted down and immediately lifted it sideways onto his right shoulder, striding from the garage with it back to the shuldu area like it weighed nothing at all.
Once there, I watched as he readied his two horned animals – one huge and black, the other a little smaller and a pretty russet brown.
He was just as efficient with the shuldu as he was with everything else, but there was no coldness in the way he treated them.
In fact, he almost seemed to treat them the same way he treated other people.
Not overly friendly, but with respect, a deep sense of responsibility, and an obvious set of expectations for their behaviour, not because he was unreasonable, but because he knew exactly what they were capable of.
The result was that the shuldu seemed completely at ease around him, responding instantly to his commands and clearly enjoying the occasional pat they received. It took no time at all to get the sled hitched up to them. Once that was done, he indicated it was time for me to get in, so I did.
It was a very simple design, with a flat wooden seat and another flat wooden board to lean back against. There were no solid sides on it, but rather two slender railings, one on each side, to grip with my gloved hands.
This would be perfect with some blankets and hot cocoa…
Since I had neither of those things at hand currently, I just nodded and said, “Ready!”
At my word, he strode to the larger black shuldu – Bart, he’d called it – and mounted. This was the first time I’d actually seen him astride his shuldu like that. Unsurprisingly, he exhibited a perfect competence in the saddle, his spine straight.
With a flick of the reins and a single command, the shuldu started forward.
“Ah!” I yelped, then laughed as the sled lurched forward and began to slide on the snow. “This is amazing!”
Warden Hallum didn’t seem to think that required a response, keeping his gaze focused ahead as he took us off of the property and onto the trail that would lead us out of the forest. I gripped the sled rails, beaming, feeling like a kid again as the sun-spangled trees rolled merrily by on either side of the trail.
This was definitely faster than the wagon had been last night.
We zipped easily along, the skis of the sled gliding over the snow.
Briefly, I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the snow splitting under the skis, the hooves of the shuldu, and the occasional command from Warden Hallum be the magical soundtrack of the morning.
Light and shadow moved in contrasting shapes across the thin skin of my eyelids.
When I opened my eyes next, we’d cleared the densest part of the forest. Trees were more spaced out, and soon they only stood on one side of the trail, which felt a bit more like a road now.
If I leaned sideways out of the sled and squinted, I was fairly certain I could make out Rivven’s saloon in the distance.
The wood building became clearer with each clomping step of the shuldu.
When we reached it, Warden Hallum didn’t stop. He urged the shuldu onwards, a little ways passed the saloon to a broad, empty area that had been marked with several wooden posts.
Dismounting, he came to the side of the sled. Being so low to the ground, it was harder to get off of this thing than I’d anticipated. Without a word, he held out his hand to me.
“I think I can do it,” I said, scooting down to the front part of the sled so the side rails weren’t in my way.
“I am sure you could,” he said. “But I would prefer it if you took my hand.”
He bent a bit, moving his hand closer to me, as if to keep it in my line of sight and not let me forget that it was there.
“Well, if you insist…”
I took it.
Something strange happened then. I’d touched his hand before. It was still the same hand, with the fabric of my glove creating a barrier between us.
That barrier didn’t seem to matter much.
It was as if the physical connection between us had lit a little spark at the base of my spine.
And from that spark came an ensuing inferno, using my own squishy insides as its kindling.
The intensity of my physical response to his touch alarmed me, and my instinct was to pull my hand away. My arm tensed to do it.
But he’d already closed his big fingers firmly over mine.
I couldn’t tear my gaze from our connected hands. Mine looked so small in his. So covered. So protected.
Dimly, I was aware that I was supposed to be moving. Getting up. But I suddenly just couldn’t. I sat there, like a lump on a log. A Lualhati on a sled.
Either out of impatience for my sudden statue act, or maybe a healthy dose of concern, Warden Hallum leaned down further.
His other arm went around my waist, which did absolutely nothing to quell the insides-on-fire thing currently happening to me.
Just as easily as he’d handled the sled before, he lifted me up and set me carefully on my feet.
He didn’t release me right away. He kind of held me in a tense almost-hug, my nose pressed to the front of his shirt. There was that lovely Hallum fragrance of his again, cooled today by the scent of snow.
“Alright?”
No.
“Yes!”
He did let go of me then, but slowly, as if testing my balance for me.
When he pulled back, his brows were drawn down over his eyes.
At first glance, he might have looked annoyed.
But there was an intense, searching quality in his gaze as it roved over my face.
I cleared my throat and nodded jerkily. “All good. Sorry about that.”
Abruptly, I turned away, flinging my arm out over the field with its posts. “Tell me more about this!”
I could feel him watching me from the side. After about a hundred years, he finally faced forward.
“This is the hospital site,” he said. “As you can see, we are quite behind.”
I could practically feel the seething in him then. He was not pleased about this project getting delayed. I waved my hand in what I hoped was a comforting gesture of dismissal.
“Not to worry,” I said. “From what I understand, our first human-Zabrian baby won’t be arriving for a few months yet.
How will Darcy get here?” I hadn’t actually thought about that until now.
But I knew just how fast babies could come shooting out of somebody when all the conditions were right.
If we were relying on sleds and wagons to get labouring women to the hospital, that could pose a big problem.
“I have ordered an ambulance extension to the slicer,” Warden Hallum said. Obviously, he’d already considered this aspect of things.
“With the extension,” he explained, “I will be able to upgrade the slicer to hold a patient and two other adults at the closed back compartment. The engine will also be upgraded, achieving much higher speeds than before. So a journey that might have taken days will now take half a day or less.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said. “And that way, I can go see patients on an emergency basis at their own homes as well if needed.”
“Precisely.”
I nodded, satisfied. It was quite nice, really. To be partnering with somebody so detail-oriented and competent on a project like this. No wonder he’d advanced so far in the military before coming here.
“Warden Hallum,” I said. “I have a question.”
“You need not pre-warn me of that,” he said. “Just ask me your question, as you have been doing this entire time so far.”
Hoping there wasn’t some insult hidden in there, I plunged on.
“But this question is a bit more personal.”
He made a snorting sound then. I supposed that was what qualified as a Warden Hallum laugh.
“You have asked me several of those already, also without warning,” he reminded me. “I seem to recall you rather bluntly asking me if I preferred to engage in sexual activity with men instead of women.”
“Oh. Right.” My cheeks boiled. “Well, alright then. I’ll just ask.”
Why did this feel so much harder than asking him about his previous love life?
“Why did you leave your post in the military to become a warden here?”
I stole a glance at him then, but his profile revealed nothing. His gaze was at the horizon. Focused, but also very far away.
“I believe I told you,” he said, “that, while I have not had any romantic attachments in my life, I have had others. Attachments that have bound me just as deeply, but in different ways.”
I nodded, unwilling to speak and interrupt him.
“There was one such circumstance…” He paused, seeming to chew on his next words, sorting through them with his fangs until he found the right ones. “One such person. A child that I felt duty-bound to protect.”
I spoke gently when he lapsed into silence. “A child?”
“A convict.”
Goosebumps prickled along my arms.
“You mean you escorted a convicted child here?”
“Correct.”
Which child? I was about to ask. Which convict?
But before I got the chance, he turned my own questions around on me.
“Why did you choose to come here?”
Ouch.
“Do you want the nice, fluffy version,” I asked with a defensive half-laugh, “or the truth?”
His gaze was fully on my face then. “What do you think?”
I already knew the answer. Warden Hallum had no patience for coddling, for false comfort, for the little white lies we use to smooth out the edges of our lives.
He was more interested in stripping all of that away.
Digging his claws into the reality of it all.
Even if that reality was ugly. And made me want to bury my head in the snow and hide.
“I was engaged to be married,” I said.
Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I told him about Bryson. About the betrayal. About the need to get away from it all.
“I won’t hide out here forever,” I said at the end. “I’ll take this year as a chance to get my head on straight. Then, I’ll go back to Terratribe II. The planet I’m from.”
Warden Hallum hadn’t spoken once during my word vomit. But he did then.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why not stay longer than a year? Have you family left on Terratribe II?”
“Oh, gotcha. No. My last living family was my lola, and she passed away years ago. I probably still have a few old friends there, but I lost touch with them when I moved to Elora Station.”
He waited expectantly. I supposed I hadn’t quite answered his question about why I planned to go back.
“I want to have a baby,” I blurted. My skin spiked hot and cold all over admitting it.
“And I don’t really have that much time to…
To fuck around, I guess. Or to find another partner.
I’ll have to go and start engaging in fertility treatments pretty soon if I want to carry my own pregnancy, which I do.
I plan to start the process immediately after my contract here is finished. ”
There was no outward reaction to what I’d said. He remained utterly still, absorbing my answer with that grim intensity I’d come to know him for.
When he finally did reply, it was with a single word.
“Understood.”