Chapter 13
Thirteen
Callah
Iliked being married. I hadn't expected to, but I'd also never imagined a marriage like this. Tobias made sure our suite never grew silent. It didn't matter if that was asking me about how to prepare our meals or his questions about my layers of clothing.
And bit by bit, we were growing comfortable around each other.
I'd seen the predicament he suffered every morning.
The first time, he'd blushed and rushed from the room.
For days, both of us had pretended like it didn't happen each time he woke, but then I'd promised not to look, and he'd stopped fretting quite so much.
More than that, we'd figured out how and when and where to change our clothing.
I'd taken to visiting the women's facilities every day, making it clear that if anyone needed me, a request for a crochet hook was all it would take.
Yes, the wives had been shocked, but I promised my husband enjoyed his time without me, and that had been something they understood.
But one week after our own vows were said, the next group was scheduled to perform the same ceremony.
Ten women - all forced to marry by the newly imposed rules - would seal their lives to that of the man they'd accepted or been assigned, and there was nothing they could do about it.
Worse, everyone in the compound was expected to attend as witnesses.
So, as the evening meal approached, I told Tobias I needed to prepare.
Like always, he was dressed in a pair of brown trousers and a shirt that was meant to be white but looked closer to beige.
The fabric was soft, and had been recycled enough times it would never be bright again, but I knew he preferred it. He said it was comfortable.
I picked a dress that would complement his clothes.
The color was a mix of the same pale-but-stained fabric and a brown that was more rusty than his, but close enough.
I twisted my hair up into a knot at the base of my neck, but when I stepped into our greeting area, my husband looked up from his chair and smiled.
"Almost," he said, easing himself up to close the distance between us. "Callah, you look put together nicely, but as a wife, you should be working harder."
And he gently teased a strand of hair down by my temple.
When I didn't resist, he moved to another space near my neck on the opposite side.
A pick here, a twirl there, and he carefully made me look like I'd been busy right up until it was time to go, and I could see it all in the warped mirror just beside our door.
"Will I not be seen as improper?" I asked.
"Nope," he assured me. "They'll assume I either accosted you before our meal, or that you were working furiously to clean, sew, or some other feminine task."
"Okay," I relented. "So are we ready?"
"Wife," he said, offering his arm.
I took that as a yes, and looped my hand around his elbow. "Lead on, husband."
The smile that earned me? It made this giant of a man look almost boyish, and I liked it. For almost twenty years now, I'd dreaded the day I'd be married, but it wasn't too bad. Well, my marriage wasn't. I knew that wasn't true for most, but it only made me appreciate Tobias even more.
We weren't the only ones headed to the dining hall, though.
It seemed everyone was moving that way. Some were new couples like us.
Maybe not quite as new, but still new enough the husbands kept a hand on their wife.
It didn't matter if that was a grip on her wrist, an arm around her shoulders, or a proper escort like Tobias had offered.
The older couples didn't bother. The wives walked either beside or slightly behind their man with their heads down.
The husbands walked without care of her path, knowing she'd faithfully follow.
That was the sort of arrangement I'd expected, but seeing it made me check for the other girls who'd been married last week.
I saw the first when we reached the line for our meal. Her head was down and her hands were clasped before her. Along the edge of her jaw was a dark smudge I was sure had to be a bruise. Further up in the line was another. She looked fine, but each time her husband moved, she flinched.
"Should I get your meal today?" Tobias asked, stopping my search.
"Yes, that would be kind, husband."
He nodded as if he'd expected that answer, then told the girl working in the kitchen what I would eat. It was easier this way, and he made a comment about not wanting me to turn glutinous. If anyone wondered why I didn't have meat on my plate, I now had a ready excuse.
Soon enough, we both had full plates, but too many of the chairs were now full. No matter where we sat, someone would be close enough to overhear. Doing my best to act as meek as the other girls, I shifted, making it clear Tobias should lead us where he wanted.
"Ah, there he is," he said, angling his feet to a table near the entrance.
I kept my eyes down until we were there. Then my husband took my plate and set it where he wanted me and dropped down onto his own chair. I sat properly, making sure to fold my skirts around me, and the man on my other side chuckled.
"I think you've already trained her well." The voice belonged to Sylis.
My head snapped up, but the guy simply smiled at me in a way that was almost kind. "Mrs. Warren," he greeted me.
"Mr. Underhill," I replied.
Tobias made a little noise at that. "He's not yet married, Callah. You can call him Sylis."
"I'd prefer Mr. Underhill," I said.
"I'd prefer Sylis," he told me. "And when I steal your husband away next week, I think you should meet with Mrs. Worthington, Callah. Tobias says he's going to allow you to keep healing, so you might as well use that time to see what she'll need from you."
"Uh..." I looked at Tobias. "Shouldn't I be attending your things?"
"No, I want you to heal. You can do more laundry on the days I'm not training."
Slowly, I looked between these two men, but there was a sparkle in Sylis's eyes which made me think he was reading between the lines too.
Or drawing there, I couldn't be sure. In truth, I had no clue which of these men was leading this discussion, but I could tell they clearly understood their doubletalk better than I did.
But my confusion must've been obvious, because Tobias leaned to my ear and whispered, "That's time to worry about the women. Take it."
"Yes, husband," I mumbled.
He smiled proudly, then jerked his chin at Sylis. "See, I told you she'd be fine. So who else are we getting on our team? Do you know yet?"
"Boys," Sylis said. "So, because of that, I've listed you as my second in charge, and I'll be using you as a scout."
"That sounds dangerous," I said.
Tobias murmured in agreement. "It is, but I like being a hunter. Knowing I'm serving our people? It's - "
The clanking of a spoon against a cup cut him off. Slowly, we all turned to see Reynold Saunders stand, gesturing for the one clanking that spoon to stop.
"Would the men to be married today please come forward?"
Ten men, ranging in age from barely old enough to be men all the way to those too aged to stand straight moved toward where that tail hung on the wall.
The elders pointed, clearly discussing something I couldn't hear, and a block of men, placed in four alternating lines, formed.
There were three on the back row, two on the next, then three again, with the front being two more.
Around us, the voices grew with excitement. I heard someone at our table wondering how many children these pairings would produce. Someone else complained about the ceremony taking too long, but all ten of those men were dressed in their finest, and quickly sorted into place.
Then the first girl walked in. A man moved to her intended with the rod we all feared. I couldn't help but tense, which made Tobias reach over to rub my leg under the table.
"Looks like we have a few young men this time," he told Sylis.
"More than I expected," Sylis agreed. "And trust me, the pressure is only growing."
"What pressure?" I asked.
"To find a wife," he said as if that should've been obvious. "I turn twenty-three in November, but I swear everyone reminds me that I should take this opportunity to claim one of the newly available girls."
"Or a widow," Tobias pointed out.
And both of them were looking at me. My head turned from side to side, trying to figure out what they wanted, but I wasn't going to offer up one of my friends! No one else would get as lucky as I had!
So I changed the subject. "Who gives the rod to the new husbands?"
"My father gave me mine," Tobias said. "It's a respected family member or associate. He must be married himself - or widowed."
"I don't have anyone to pass me one," Sylis said. "I'm thinking that makes a good enough excuse to put it off a little longer."
Tobias murmured under his breath. Yes, I was clearly missing something, but I didn't dare ask now. Instead, I watched the girls making their way in. Each one was dressed in something beautiful. All of them looked terrified, but I understood.
I was just about to go back to my meal when the last girl lunged at her intended. A collective gasp filled the room, and I jerked back to see three men grab the girl. The man she'd been headed for pried a hair pin from her fist, then threw it on the ground.
"I will not agree!" the girl screamed.
And the man she was to marry simply thrust his arm in, grabbed her by the throat, and pulled her face to his. "You," he roared, his words carrying easily in the stunned silence, "will. Now stand there and don't say anything. I don't care."
The girl tried to struggle again, but when her soon-to-be-husband punished her again, he used a closed fist. She dropped, falling to her knees, but he simply yanked her back up.
The next girl wasn't much better. She didn't have a pin, but her defiance was refusing to enter the dining hall. A group of men dragged her into her place. When her intended grabbed her wrist - hard - she gave up her fight.
After that, it was fine for a bit, but the ninth girl had to try again.
Unlike the others, she had come prepared.
She made it all the way to her place, smiled the way we expected, but just as the final girl moved into the room, the ninth pulled a knitting needle from her sleeve and stabbed at her husband-to-be.
He gasped, staggering back. The other men grabbed her. There was a struggle, and all I could do was press my hands over my mouth as the girl was forced to the ground, disarmed, and then kicked by one of the men. Her yelp of pain cut me to the core.
"I will kill you!" she screamed at her intended. "I have another year! I would rather die than be your wife!"
"And those rules have changed," Mr. Saunders called out. "Stand up, girl. There is no more banishment. You will all be wed, or you will be stoned as per the words of the Bible. So decide quickly, because we do have a ceremony to get on with."
"Give in," I breathed. "Marry him. Please, just marry him!"
For a long moment, the girl did nothing, clearly debating her options. I was sure she'd pick death. I also thought it would be the kinder option, but when her intended bent to take her arm, I saw a red stain on his shirt. It seemed her attack had actually hit.
And the girl must've seen it too, because she refused his hand, pushing herself to her feet, and snapped, "I will give every abuse back to you that you try to give me.
Take away my knitting needles - I'll find something else until you take it all away.
Knives, forks, pans, and everything a woman uses can be a weapon, and if you so much as slap me, I will make it clear I am not scared to use them. "
"Enough!" Mr. Saunders yelled. "Marry them before she has another fit!"
So Mr. Cassidy began the ceremony.