Chapter 50
Fifty
Callah
Iadored the way one little compliment made Tobias stand taller.
In the short time we'd been married, I'd come to realize that men really were treated just as poorly as women.
Differently, sure, but just as bad. Since they were bigger and stronger, their punishments tended to be the kind that cut at the mind and heart.
Since we were softer and smaller, ours tended to be the sort that broke the flesh.
In the end, everyone lost out.
But while we walked toward the dining hall, I asked him about this promotion. He told me the things a wife should know, the sort that wouldn't be a problem if anyone overheard us. And yet, I knew him well enough to read between the lines.
He didn't want this at all, but he knew it would help.
His only goal was to get us out. Ayla's brother could be a real problem, but we'd have to work out a plan for him later.
The big thing? He mentioned how unlikely it was for a squad leader to make it back alive.
That was the entire reason so many men had been promoted lately.
"But you," I said as we reached our favorite table, "are bigger, stronger, and more devout than the rest. Would you pick me an appropriate meal, Mr. Warren?"
"Of course," he assured me. "Can't have you being tempted, can we?"
That was the line we used to explain my refusal of meat. No one cared when he asked for a plate of grains. No one looked at what I was eating once it was given, but too many times now, I'd had a serving girl point out that heavier meals often made women conceive sooner.
I knew that was the goal for most. Young wives were told they'd be excused from servicing her husband once she was with child. The reality was a very different thing. I'd heard far too many stories from the other wives about it, and yet they didn't dare speak of such things before the young girls.
That was how the elders had kept their power.
Too many topics were shameful. Too often, that shame fell on us, the wives.
If a man desired us even once we were bred, it was our fault.
If we led him on, or moved the wrong way, it wasn't like a husband could be blamed, now was it? We were the ones at fault - always.
Thinking about that, I looked over at the widows' table, wondering if it was more full or less since last week. The number of women being married was at an all-time high, but so were the casualties among the hunters. Unfortunately, most other professions couldn't say the same.
But a trio of women caught my eye. All wore black. They sat at the end of the table, well away from the others. None of that was odd, but the way the one in the middle was sobbing? Such displays of emotion were not proper for mixed company!
Her companions were doing their best to soothe her, and the widow was trying to blot her eyes subtly with her sleeves, but it wasn't working. Each time she seemed to get her composure, she'd end up breaking down again only seconds later.
"What?" Tobias asked as he dropped a plate before me and sat down at my side.
"One of the widows is upset," I said, turning my back on their table to focus on my meal. "I can't help but wonder if she's about to be remarried."
"Ah." He leaned a bit, narrowing his eyes as he looked that way. "No, I think she's a new widow, Callah."
"What?" I gasped, struggling not to whip around to look again. "But then why is she crying?"
He cleared his throat and snapped before pointing at my plate. "Eat, woman."
The words sounded right. The gesture was typical for a man speaking to his wife. I also knew he didn't truly mean it, did he? But when I looked at his face, he dipped his head at my plate, proving he did.
"Okay," I said, taking a spoonful of grains into my mouth.
"They're gathering up her plates," he whispered. "When she leaves, I'll snap at you about something so you can check on her, okay?"
That made me flash him a smile. "Mr. Warren..."
"Oddly, I no longer hate being called that," he said. "But only when you say it, Callah."
I had to take another bite to keep from smiling foolishly.
This man said so many kind things, and most of them made me want to giggle like a child.
His jokes were as funny as any Ayla or Meri had ever told.
His thoughts wove in ways I didn't usually expect, and our conversations were just as riveting as the ones that had kept me up many nights in the girls' hall.
But there was something else about Tobias that made me enjoy his company.
I couldn't quite figure out what it was, but it was always there.
The way he made me feel safe was a part of it, but so was this twisting in my belly.
Maybe I was more like Ayla than I realized and actually liked a little danger in my life?
Because the first time I'd felt that twisting and this pounding in my chest had been when I'd woken up to find his arm across my side.
Since I'd removed the rolled sheet between us, it had happened a few times, but I wouldn't tell him.
Every morning, he was facing away from me, so there was no reason to ruin it, and I actually liked those little moments.
The ones where he was completely asleep and still reaching for me in the softest, gentlest way I could imagine from a man.
Tobias snapped me out of my daydream by slapping his hand down onto the wood. "What do you mean you didn't get it done?"
"I..." My head whipped up. "I'm sorry!"
"Finish that and get it done!" he said, flicking his eyes over to the doorway just as those three widows hurried out of the dining hall.
"Yes, husband," I mumbled, shoving two more large bites into my mouth before pushing my plate back.
"I'll get that," he said, taking it. "Just go. And next time, don't forget!"
I nodded quickly, stood, and scurried out of the hall, heading the same way those women had gone. I didn't have a clue if anyone cared about Tobias's excuse for me. The only thing that mattered was I'd stopped feeling a rush of panic when he snapped like that.
Because I knew he didn't mean it, and his voice would never become a hand.
Up ahead, the women turned up a hall. I followed, not surprised to find it was one that led to the facilities, but they weren't going to the laundry. Instead, these women ducked into a washroom caught halfway between the wives' area and the girls'. I stretched my legs to follow them in.
"It doesn't matter if anyone else understands..." one of the women was saying as I entered the room.
They all fell silent, and two sets of eyes glared at me. The third set was pressed into a handkerchief. One damp from far too many tears.
"What do you want, Mrs. Warren?" one of the glaring women asked.
"I came to see if I can help," I said, keeping my tone as gentle as I could. "I know none of this is my business, but I believe we women should help each other where we can."
"He's gone!" the crying woman blubbered, sounding like it wasn't the first time.
"And crying won't bring him back, Jemina," another said soothingly.
"This is personal," the first woman told me. "Her husband was killed in the last hunt. Now she'll be wed again."
And Jemina yanked her arm down hard enough to make a point. "That's not my problem, Ester! It's that I can't even grieve a man I loved!"
Loved?
Loved!
The air rushed from my lungs as her words slammed into me. Jemina had actually cared about her husband. I didn't know what kind of relationship they'd had - a fake one like mine or something else - but hearing her use that word for a man left me standing there, speechless.
"Hulda, get her out of here," Ester ordered.
"No," I said, waving them off before moving closer. "Jemina? Tell me about him?"
"He was my husband," she said, as if that should've been enough.
But I shook my head and claimed a spot beside her. "They clearly do not feel the same. You're grieving. It hurts, and that's a pain I've only felt when my mother passed. I am here to listen - not judge - but I can't do that unless you share the memories of him."
She looked up with red-rimmed eyes. "Luc was a good man, Mrs. Warren."
"Callah," I told her. "I only know you as Jemina, so please, just Callah."
She jiggled her head. "I know it's not done, but I did care for him.
He was kind and charming. He may not have been the most handsome, but he never touched me with a rod, not even when I deserved it.
He talked to me like I was a person, not his possession, and all the caring, loving things he did!
I will never have another husband like him, and I want him back! "
"I know," I breathed, pulling her closer so she could lean against my shoulder. "My husband is a good man too. Not all of them are bad, you know."
"Mr. Warren?" Jemina asked hopefully.
I nodded. "Tobias. He offers his arm every time we have to walk together. I'm never left following him like a child."
"Luc would pull me close and hold me so tightly," she said. "Just an embrace to show he was glad to see me that day. Sometimes, he'd pull me into his lap and tickle me until we both were laughing too hard to breathe. He made our home a happy place."
"Yeah," I said. "He sounds like a wonderful man. I didn't realize others existed."
"Not anymore!" Jemina wailed. "A Dragon killed him!"
Which meant he'd been a hunter. I knew that much, but before I could think of anything else that might soothe her, Ester spoke up again.
"And Mr. Saunders slapped her this morning for sobbing at breakfast. He thinks she should keep such hysterics in her own room!"
"Of course he does," I grumbled.
Hulda grunted, showing her own opinion. "I think someone needs to remind him that those who mourn are blessed, for they shall be comforted by the Lord - and that what he is doing is not comfort."
"He won't listen," Ester told her. "Men never do."
Which made me have an idea. "But what if they didn't have a choice?" I asked. "What if we all reminded them of the words God gave us? Not just about mourning those we care about, but all of it?"
"How?" Jemina asked.
"When they ration food, we remind the men that what they do unto the least of us, they do unto God. When they strike us, we remind them that wrath should be left for God."
"They won't like it," Ester pointed out.
"I don't care," Hulda said. "It's as if the men have forgotten what is supposed to make us Righteous in the first place. Maybe they need some women to remind them!"
She had a very good point, and I was liking this idea more and more. "I think I can get the other wives to help," I said. "But Jemina, it's up to you. You're the one suffering the pain of loss. For me to take that from you and use it for myself seems wrong."
"They killed him," she said. "He didn't want to be a hunter. He wanted to reload, but he wasn't given a choice, so yes. Let us remind the husbands, leaders, and elders that there is still a power above them."
I nodded. "Then I'll talk to the wives." But I chaffed her arm gently. "And if you need anything, find me. My husband does not mind me helping other women. It is my calling, or so it seems."
"And you'd be a fool to go against God, huh?" she asked, but there was an awareness in her eyes when she looked at me again.
"Yeah," I agreed. "That sounds as good as my reason."
"Thank you," she said. "But I think I just need to cry it out."
"Then you two..." I looked at both of her friends. "...make sure she still eats something? We cannot let her waste away, and too many meals have already been stolen from us. If you care for her, I think I can at least help her get some vengeance."
I stood, but Ester stopped me with a hand on my arm. "Callah, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"This isn't a wound you can heal, Callah. To go from a kind man to a cruel one in only three months? That will be the hardest part of this - and you can't just fix it."
"I know," I assured her. "I wish it was different, but every time the men go out, I fear I will be the one mourning next. The least I can give is my sympathy."
"You should've stabbed him," Hulda said. "They would've banished you for sure."
"The problem is I don't want to stab my husband. I..." Love was not the word I wanted to use, but I did feel something, so I spoke as carefully as I could. "I'm much too fond of my husband for that. I'd rather protect him."
"But we can't," Hulda reminded me.
"That," I told her, "is where we disagree. I think we women can do a lot men won't ever give us credit for. I think our power is in our community of girls and wives. One they ignore - right up until we make it impossible for them to keep doing that."
Then I turned and left, deciding I had a new mission. This one, Felicity was going to enjoy. She no longer had the protection of a suitor, but rage? That was something she was good at, and holy rage would be even better.