Chapter 23: Resistance

Sceala seems intrigued not by Glavino, but by Berin. Soon Berin finds the hardest battle is not from outside forces but from those within.

Resistance

“What are these, Sceala?” Berin picked up a long, orangey fruit.

“They are poppinas. Do you not have them in Vergara?”

“No. What do they taste like?”

“Sweet honeycomb.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Collect five. We will have them after our meal tonight.”

Sceala allowed Berin to stop at each unusual food.

“This bright green fruit is a nooseringa.”

“That is hard to say. Noos-a-…”

“Nooseringa.”

Berin repeated, slower this time, emphasising each syllable as Sceala bought him one.

“You have it.”

“And the taste?”

“I do not enjoy it. My father does. It must be a male kind of taste.”

Berin bit into it. “Interesting.”

“Right, it looks as though I have all the ingredients for tonight’s meal. Let us return home before we traverse the city.”

Berin sunk his hand into Sceala’s bag as they walked towards her house. He grasped a fruit and ate it.

“You are correct, this poppina does taste like honeycomb. I can imagine the bees buzzing around.”

“You were supposed to leave that for tonight!” grinned Sceala.

“Ah, but I made sure six went into the bag.”

“Scallywag!”

Berin laughed, partly because he had never heard the phrase before, but because he knew what it meant. Or perhaps it was because this was the first time his belly bounced in such a manner since leaving Grasio’s side. Grasio, it was, that left their side, to be more precise.

“I like the way you smile when you laugh, Berin.”

“Thank you. I…” He wondered how to compliment this woman. She was beautiful, no doubt. But he was a married man. In Vergara, little was said between men and women if they were not married. Usually men spoke with men, and women kept to themselves. For the first time, Berin realised Juolo was the only woman with whom he had truly conversed. That was many lunar cycles ago.

Sceala’s face seemed puzzled.

Perhaps she thinks I dislike her. Her face, though, did not have the look of disappointment. It was as though she was trying to discover his true nature.

Berin started his comment again.

“You have an easy way of talking. I mean, it is easy to talk with you.” Berin gulped. Sceala continued with her puzzled look. She half-licked her upper lip before responding.

“Thank you, I think.”

“What I mean is because you are a joyful soul, I feel I can tell you things I cannot tell others.”

“Such as?”

Berin outlaid his entire life story, from the Orguein Islands to Vergara and finally, to Porto Cerro. Sceala listened with intent, interjecting only to clarify details. By the time Berin finished and took an almighty breath, his lungs expanding for the first moment since his final days at the metallurgy factory, they were at a old woman’s house.

“That is fascinating, Berin.”

“Sorry for talking too much.”

“No, no. I loved every moment of it. Oh look, Ferina is coming to her doorway. Greetings, Ferina!”

“Greetings, Sceala. I thought you were not coming to my house until tomorrow.”

“Oh, sweet Ferina, have you gotten your veros mixed again?”

“What vero is it?”

“Prevero.”

“Oh dear, I have mixed up my time. Well, come in. Who is this fine man you have with you?”

“This is my new friend, Berin.”

“Greetings, Berin.”

“Good morning, Ferina.”

Berin noticed the way Sceala spoke his name. It was the same way Juolo whispered it, the way his mother spoke it when nursing him or cleaning his blood when he fell on the dirt as a child.

“We should talk in Akola language, Ferina. That way Berin can understand.”

“Is he going to be a healer like you?”

“Oh, no, Ferina. I am visiting with Sceala today.”

Sceala changed the subject.

“How is your gout, Ferina?” Sceala already had a jar out of her bag. Berin peeked. Its contents were unfamiliar.

“My feet still ache, Sceala.”

“My goodness, we shall have to slice them off.”

Ferina laughed.

“Good idea, I think.”

“How about we put some more ointment on that?”

“That would be splendid.”

“And I shall find you more gerard. The local herbsman had none this morning.”

“Good. I am close to running out.”

“I will try to get to you tomorrow, if that works for you.”

“I will be staying right here, as you said I should.”

“Good! Hopefully you will learn to follow my instructions. We do not want another case of a broken knee left untreated, do we?”

“No. Thank you, Sceala.”

“The joy is all mine. We shall see you tomorrow.”

The two left.

“We shall see you tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to come with you again?”

“Perhaps.”

“Why?”

“You can carry my bag, as a man of stature ought to do with a lady.”

Berin obliged. Sceala chuckled.

“You are a good man, Berin.”

“Thank you.”

That evening, as the five sat down to another hearty feast, thanks to Sceala, Berin sat back. Gazing at Sceala, he wondered about this woman with whom he had spent the vero. There was something about her, something he admired. She was charming, her laugh infectious, much like Grasio. She was warm with all people, whether they were young, old, bitter, or sensitive.

“So, how was today?” asked Glavino as they washed their plates while Sceala taught the children a local game.

“It was marvellous.”

“Tell me.”

“We walked around, meeting many folk of Porto Cerro.”

“Are they all like Grasio?”

“Some. I think no person can outclass him.”

“True. Did you talk?”

“Yes.”

“What about?”

“About our lives, about our childhoods, about our mothers. I told her about Juolo.”

“Did she mention anything about me?”

“We did talk about you. Why do you ask?”

“Rini and Erinu think she fancies me.”

“Fancies you?” Berin laughed.

“Is that so funny?”

“Well, I mean, you are a handsome man. But who would want to…” Berin paused there. He saw Glavino stiffen, sensing something untoward about to be spoken.

“Who would want to what?”

“Glavino, do not worry. I am tired. It has been a lengthy vero. I need my rest.”

“Your handsome sleep?”

“Funny,” Berin grinned. Glavino returned the same face, though there was something going on behind those eyes, like the mechanisms of the metallurgy factory.

“Or does she fancy you?”

“There is no chance!” Berin spoke a little too loudly, causing the other three to glance over from their game.

“Everything fine?” asked Sceala.

“Of course.”

“You two are doing an excellent job with the washing. Normally I get so discontented I take forever to get everything clean.”

“Yes, we have nearly finished,” said Glavino. He poked Berin with his elbow at the bottom of his ribs. He slowly winked. Berin punched him on the shoulder and growled.

“She does not fancy me.”

“Fine, I shall leave it.”

“Good.”

Does she fancy me? No, surely not. Surely no sane person could allow their heart to fall for someone this quickly.

Then again, Berin’s love for Juolo spawned the very moment they met. Perhaps it was possible.

No, he must not dwell on this. Juolo was his wife, his lover, his one and only. He could not let anyone get in the way. As soon as the washing was complete, Berin excused himself.

“I am exhausted. Come, children, we must leave Sceala.”

“Will you join me again, Berin?”

“Perhaps not.”

“Papa, why not?” asked Rini.

“Because, we have something to do.”

“What?”

“I shall tell you tomorrow.”

Rini peered at his father, one eyebrow raised, while scratching the side of his head.

“Come. Thank you, Sceala, for a wonderful meal.”

“Not a worry. Shall you then come for another evening meal?”

“Only if it is no trouble.”

“You are guests in my land. I am obligated to ensure you are well cared for.”

“Then dinner it is. Goodnight, Sceala.”

Berin left the hut, hoping his children and Glavino would follow as briskly as he dared without seeming rude. They did.

“Papa,’ asked Erinu, ‘what is the matter?”

“Nothing. I have to spend some time with you. You have been absent from me for so long.”

“Sceala is being friendly, Berin,’ said Glavino. ‘You did not have to shun her like that.”

“I did not shun her.”

“Yes you did. Why?”

“Glavino, leave me be.”

Glavino opened his mouth, but the glare from Berin was enough to close it again. The four walked in silence back to their inn. None spoke, even after they retired to their beds.

Late that night, Erinu leaned over to her father.

“Papa, are you awake?”

“Mmm.”

“Is all well?”

“I…I feel regret at allowing you to be hurt as an intimacy slave.”

“It is not your fault, Papa.”

“I know. But a father must take some responsibility for his actions. Even if what I thought I did was right. That vero at Akola…there is still…”

“Guilt?”

“Yes. What you experienced, I can only imagine, was extremely traumatic.”

“That is an understatement.”

“Your soul was denigrated.”

“But not broken.”

“How do you mean?”

“My hero came and saved me. My father…’ her voice sounded husky, ‘he needs not feel guilty. I am liberated.”

She leant out of her bed and kissed her father on the cheek. It was the first time she offered him a kiss. Berin’s heart leapt, bounding against his ribs. His soul mirrored his heart. What a joy.

“Thank you.”

The next morning, Berin spoke to the three.

“I am sorry for my actions last night. I will rectify with Sceala.”

“Good. What are we doing today, Berin?”

“How about Rini and Erinu decide?”

“We want to visit Sceala.”

Berin glanced out of the window.

“She would already be doing her rounds. We would not know where to find her.”

“Aww.”

“Papa, we must swim in the ocean.”

“Oh, yes, a brilliant idea, Rini!”

“I agree. Glavino, will you come?”

“No.”

“Why not?” asked Erinu. Rini poked her. She looked at him, then back again at Glavino.

“Hate the ocean.”

“Why?”

“Many men lost.”

Erinu stared at him, cocking her head to the side.

“I do not understand.”

Berin stepped in. He told Erinu the story of the lost ship across the Midran Passage. She listened, mouth gaping as wide as she could muster.

“Well, I never…”

“That is why Glavino will not come to the ocean. Not yet. He will have to face it soon. Give him some time. Just as you need some time to recover from your…injuries.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

The three wandered down to the sands. The vero was unusually warm, perfect for swimming. Erinu lay on the beach while father and son swam in the cool, sleepy water. After throwing little shells at each other, they wandered down the length of the beach while Rini collected different objects. They returned to Erinu, still dazing in the sunshine.

Rini was proving himself ever useful, fashioning items of use out of the objects collected.

“Back at the farm, we were taught to be resourceful,” he beamed that night as they reconciled with Sceala. His son was becoming a young man. Now Rini was capable of almost anything. Though he encountered a blackened situation, light spawned from it.

“I am proud of you,” said Berin to his son. He reached across the table and grasped hold of his son. He then tried the same for Erinu, only she was in a slight daze. She flinched when their skin connected. Her muscles eased when she realised who touched her. Though she was outwardly safe, there was still something inside her that ached. Berin pondered to himself how long that would go on for. Would she always be edgy?

“Rini, you must always hug your sister and give her massages,” said Berin.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. She needs to have love touch her again.”

Rini obliged. Erinu closed her eyes, a smile stretching across her face as she breathed deeply.

“That is it, my son.”

“I would love a massage,” said Sceala.

“Berin has tender hands,” said Glavino briskly.

“I do not. You do.”

“That is not true. Sceala, do not listen to Berin. He gives great massages. Remember the time…” he stopped, seeing Berin’s glare once again.

“Remember what time?” she asked.

“Never mind.”

“No, what?”

“Sceala, drop it, please,” Berin attempted to say sweetly, though he was seething on the inside.

“Fine.”

The silence that followed was so powerful it permeated through the following veros. The conversation was stilled between the five. Only the mundane was discussed. Finally, Glavino thought to alter the talk.

“Sceala, you cook for us every night. It is our turn to repay you with a feast your tongue will savour for many moons.”

“Oh, this sounds exciting!”

“It is.”

“Glavino,’ wondered Berin, ‘it is a grand idea. How are we to pay for the food?”

“Never mind that,’ said Sceala. ‘I shall provide all you need. But to see grown men cook a meal will sweeten my heart. I am slightly exhausted, too. Not used to cooking for this many folk night after night.”

Berin perked at the idea.

“Then it is settled! I have some ideas, but I will have to find the equivalent in Porto Cerro. Perhaps we could try the marketplace in the morning, Sceala?”

“We can do that.”

“Good. Glavino, let us plan this delicious meal.”

The two rose to scurry back to the inn.

“Time to depart, children.”

“It is not our bedtime, yet.”

“Yes, Sceala wants to teach us a game.”

“If it is not too much hassle…?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Erinu, you know the way back to the inn?”

“Yes.”

“As do I, Papa.”

“I am certain you do, Rini. Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Berin.”

Oh, how my name rolls from her lips…

The following evening was a huge success. Berin and Glavino cooked a feast so delicious. Sceala continually praised the men for their efforts.

“Oh, it was mostly Glavino.”

“Nonsense. You both created a marvellous meal.”

“And we will clean up,” said Rini.

“Not you, Sceala. Us two,” said Erinu.

“Thank you, my lovelies.”

“Most welcome.”

Glavino left for the inn immediately after the meal.

“There is something I must do tonight.”

Berin and Sceala, alone at the table, sat and watched Rini and Erinu as they playfully cleaned the plates.

“You have such wonderful children, Berin.”

“Thank you. I am lucky the gods have returned them to me.”

“You say that with a sense of regret.”

“I do regret some things.”

“Such as?”

“Running off with Glavino on the night they were taken.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was about this time, after the evening meal. We were settling into slumber when Glavino came rushing through the door. He said, ‘My house is on fire!’

“I asked him how this was. Sure, it was late spring, but the weather had remained cool. And his hut was out in the plains, nowhere near the long grass seen up the side of the mountain. Even though I immediately left with him, I know not the reasons as to the flames. I also knew not why I left with him, perhaps to extinguish the fire. But with what? There is no river or pond near his hut.

“As we neared, I could see, in spite of the darkness, smoke rising into the stars. We came over the hill. There was nothing left, only charred remains of a wooden hut. Glavino wept, clutching at my clothes, attempting to remain upright. There was nothing we could do.

“If only I knew that prior to the trek. If only I stayed behind. When those Bacana soldiers came and stole my family, I would have fought against them and kept my family from harm. The moment of discovering their disappearance is something my soul never wishes to experience, again. Or to have ever experienced.”

“Perhaps if you had stayed behind, you would be a slave, like them, unable to liberate them.”

“True.”

“What I mean is, the gods may have spared you so you could liberate them. Glavino, in a way, was a meaningful distraction. Had you not been absent from home, you would be imprisoned. Or worse, dead.”

“Sceala, you may be correct.”

She grinned.

“Of course.”

The two children came over.

“The dishes are completed!” said Rini, eyes drooping lower than a sagging hammock.

“Thank you, children.”

“May we go home?”

“Erinu, please take your brother home.”

“Absolutely. Will you be joining us soon?”

“Soon. Do not wait for me.”

The children left, wistfully saying their goodbyes as they skipped out of sight.

“Thank you for cooking once again.”

“The joy is all mine.”

“And for telling me your story.”

“I know not why I tell you these things, but you have an inner strength I have not seen in many women. Juolo is one of them.”

“How many women do you really know?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“That you know little of how to converse with a woman?”

“Well, yes, that.”

“How many women have you known well, like a sister?”

“My mother. Juolo. That is all. I am sorry.”

“There is no need to apologise. Like you said, you have been in many prisons. I imagine there would only be men in there.”

“Yes.”

“You have not had experience. I am glad to help.”

“In what way?”

“With these conversations. Since our first encounter, which with Erinu’s story was doubly uncomfortable, you have opened your soul, and allowed me to do the same.”

“I know not why I open my soul to you. I started rather early, though.”

“True.”

“I believe it is a strength you draw from inside of you. You are complete. Many women I know are incomplete without a man. Not you.”

“Those are kind words, Berin. You know, I care about you. Immensely.”

Berin was shocked. Here he was, thinking she would fall for Glavino, calling him handsome, when all this time, she preferred him. And he realised he cared for her, immensely, too. Silence reigned supreme for what seemed an age.

“I know not what to say.”

“I know you have a wife. I know you cannot be with me. Your love for Juolo possesses great weight. I only want friendship, one that is pure and faultless and humorous and exciting.”

Berin remained silent. He reached over and took Sceala’s hand. Its softness made his breath deepen. He let his thumb ease across her index finger, back and forth, back and forth. There was no sound. He leaned closer.

“Please, stop,” said Sceala as she pulled away.

“She would not have to know.”

“But you would, and I would, and I think Glavino would know as well. He is mightily protective of you.”

“How so?”

“He told me earlier, about how beautiful Juolo really is. He admires you both greatly, and does not want to see you damage your marriage.”

“But he was encouraging this before.”

“Was he?”

“Actually, no. He was only jesting with me that you felt in your heart for me. I think I wanted to believe someone else was telling me what my heart wanted to feel.”

“That you care about me as well.”

Berin sat upright.

“Perhaps you are correct. Friendship.”

“You cannot save Juolo and then say to her you were unfaithful.”

“Correct.”

“Pure friendship.”

“Absolutely.”

They paused for a moment, avoiding eye contact.

“No, Sceala, you are absolutely correct. I am sorry for making you be the one to stand for morals. I should be the one, especially since I am the married man.”

“I am sorry for being suggestive.”

“You were only being yourself.”

“Are you calling me a flirt?”

“No, what I mean is, you are the friendliest person I know. Like you were when I came with you on your healing run. You are the same with all people. I misread you.”

“You did not, though. I am friendlier with you than with anyone else. And friendlier to others when you are present.”

“Why?”

“I think inside my mind I wanted Juolo to be lost, forever. That way, I could step in and become the mother of your children. Even as I say this now, I hear how ridiculous it sounds. There is no way I am going to replace the mother of your children, even if she is dead.”

Sceala gulped as she said it. Berin looked away, out the doorway into the darkness.

“I am sorry,” she continued.

“She may be dead. But I have to believe, for myself, for my children, that she is alive. I must liberate her. Look how blessed the gods have made me. They have returned to me my two children. They cannot be merciless enough to hand my children without my wife. There is no doubt; she is alive. I will liberate her.”

“That is a good attitude. How you think will determine your actions.”

“Exactly.’ Berin felt the need to alter the conversation. ‘Now, we must travel north. Glavino will not step near another boat. Is there no other way to get to Shuiku?”

“I am afraid not.”

“Perhaps if I leave Glavino here and carry on with my children, then we could leave in the coming veros.”

“Do you think you could survive without Glavino?”

“I have needed him the entire trip thus far. I sense his presence is needed even more when we cross the sea.”

“Will you wait until his fear subsides?”

“We have to. I cannot continue this quest without him.”

“Do you have the funds to continue living at the inn?”

“We have run out. Glavino promised he would work for the innkeeper to pay for the room.”

“Perhaps you could stay here…no, that is a silly idea.”

“A silly idea, it is. We will manage. We have thus far.”

“Oh look, the sun is going to rise soon.”

“How can you tell?”

“Did you not hear the huckelber crowing?”

“The what?”

“Huckelber. It is the first animal to rise in the morning and ensures everyone else does.”

“Oh, we call them verranus in Vergara.”

“What a silly name.”

“Listen, perhaps I should go back to the inn. We do not want Glavino getting any wrong ideas about us.”

“He might already, seeming as it is nearly dawn.”

Now I do not want to disgrace my Juolo.