The Preparation

 

As the cow drew nearer, Fallon backed away from her dead calf. She grunted as her snout came close to the carcass, then she licked the haunch several times and made a low humming sound. Keeping still, Fallon heard a tik-tik bird to his right. He waved at Alithea to wait and the cow raised her head at his motion. Alithea moved away from the trees, approaching the cow from the side, holding Erthen in her arm.

“Cow,” Erthen said and Alithea reached forward to squeeze the teat. The left hind foot twitched but didn’t kick.

“Cut,” Alithea said in a calm tone to Fallon. “Speak calmly. We haven’t had real food in weeks. They are used to hearing voices. Nothing to be concerned about.” 

Emboldened by Alithea’s calmness, Fallon tucked the knife away, reached under the calf and picked it up. “We’re bringing her baby home.” He backed several steps down the hill with the carcass, talking gibberish in an even tone. The cow turned to Alithea, grunted, and moved toward Fallon.

Alithea make a clicking sound and strode forward, staying safely away from the cow. “We’re going home. There are other calves at the bottom of the hill.”

As they reached the bottom of the hill, several villagers appeared from behind one of the ovens. Loaded with the calf, Fallon turned to the villagers then to Alithea, who was already moving around the herd toward the trees.

“Gorsuch,” the older man used Fallon’s fake Washiti name, “who is that woman and child?”

“They were in the trees,” Fallon answered. “I think they are hungry and followed me down the hill.”

“We can’t give them the calf,” the villager said. “The queen will have a feasting tomorrow night at the palace.”

“The queen? How does she know?”

“Her faerie, of course.”

Fallon nodded. What faerie? “Of course,” he answered. Struggling under the weight of the calf, he asked, “Where would you like me to set the carcass?”

Villager pointed him to a building midway between the row of beehive ovens.

“What shall I do with the woman and child?”

“We shall offer them some of the prisoner food, then call for the guards to take them to the prison camp by the ocean.”

“What if they run away?” When villager shrugged, Fallon moved toward the building, then took a deep breath and let out the sound of an Alsace bird to warn Alithea. He turned frantically from side to side. “Is the bird back?” Villager looked to the sky, then someone pointed to the roof of the sleeping quarters. Fallon hustled into the building and set the calf down on a cutting table.

An older woman came from out of the shadows at the back of the room. “What is that?”

“Calf. Cook for the queen tomorrow night,” Fallon answered.

“Chickens, fish. I don’t know about calves.” She looked up at Fallon. “The queen?”

Fallon gestured outside, then made a droopy face to mimic the older villager. She snorted a laugh. “Mileku. He knows. Chicken and fish. No calves.” She stabbed her cutting knife into the wooden table.

Fallon backed out of the room and building, then turned toward the herd and the other villagers. Several of them were on the far side of the herd, scanning through the trees. “Mileku,” he said to the older villager, who turned to him. “Woman says chicken and fish. She doesn’t know how to prepare calf.”

Mileku turned to the building, then waved his hand in disgust. “I will find Sisseku. Maybe she knows.”

“Where are the woman and child?” Fallon asked.

“Ran off into the woods. Let them go. They will starve or become food for wolfbear patrol.”

Fallon remembered the knife he had tucked away and brought it out. “I have cut Ibik. Can’t be too different. Perhaps Sisseku and I could prepare the calf for the queen’s feast tomorrow night.”

Mileku thought a moment, then nodded. “Can you help with the morning cook? Will that give you enough time?”

Fallon agreed, then walked toward the sleeping quarters. Passing by one of the beehive ovens, he noticed several cakes left over from the day’s meals. He grabbed several and put them in his white coat.

“Those are prisoner cakes,” a voice behind him said. “Extra meals for us are in the sleeping quarters.”

Fallon set the cakes back on the table and turned to face the old woman he had spoken to earlier. With a respectful nod, he thanked her and resumed his way to the sleeping quarters. Next to the front door was a table with several cakes. He put one in his mouth, glanced around at some of the workers in their cots. “Nice moonrise,” he gave as an excuse to exit the building.

Wanting to avoid attention, he took off his white coat and stuffed the bundle below his tunic. In the civil twilight, he worked his way along the edge of trees and past the herd of cows. Several were haltered and staked to the ground. Fallon guessed that herd instinct kept the others together. He made the call of a tik-tik bird and was answered in kind. He gave Alithea and Erthen a hug, then took the food cakes out of his coat. Alithea took the cakes and bit into one with a greedy delight, then handed it to Erthen.

“Take the coat. It will keep off the chill tonight.”

“You’re not staying?” Alithea asked, the anxiety in her voice.

“We’re cooking the calf for the queen tomorrow night. If I can get us several days’ rations, some water.” He held her face in his hand, then gave Erthen a kiss on the cheek that was stuffed with cake. “Why would they tell me not to eat cake that was made for prisoners? I grabbed a few cakes, and I was told not to take those.”

“They are putting something in the food,” Alithea said. “Bebe and I lost our babes. We should have gone into our fertile period. We didn’t. How many young warriors like Drindl working on the rocks? I haven’t seen a warrior in musth. Let me think.”

Fallon reached out to Erthen and swept the boy into his arms. “He seems a bit too passive for his age, don’t you think?”

Alithea turned and gave him a scritch on his forehead. “We’ve put him through a lot. When we get away from here and life is more normal…” She left the sentence unfinished as she looked at his drooping eyes. “How much of the cake did he eat?”

“You gave it to him,” Fallon said as he lifted up Erthen’s chin.

“I took a bite, then gave him the rest, then I think I took the other cake.” She tilted Erthen’s face to her. “There’s something in the cake.”

“I had some. I’m fine. He’s tired. He hasn’t had a nap. We were up early. It’s been a long day,” Fallon reassured her.

“Ok, I’ll watch him,” Alithea said. Remembering her early thought, she said, “Hazel fury. That’s what they are putting in the prisoners’ rations. It’s what we give to you when you go on campaign. Curbs your sexual appetite.”

“The reddish-purple berries? Is that the one?” Fallon asked.

“No, the leaves. The berries are a treat, I suppose.” She paused. “That wouldn’t affect the women though.” She checked Erthen again. “You remember the plant? Look for it. See if you can bring me some tomorrow so I can be sure. Oh, it doesn’t matter. We are leaving this horrible place.”

“After Sisseku and I cook up the calf, that will be…” Fallon said.

Alithea interrupted, “Have you cooked a calf? This morning, you said you had not seen one before. Let Sisseku cook and we will leave this place tomorrow morning.”

“It can’t be too much different than an Ibik calf,” Fallon reasoned.

“It’s a lot different,” Alithea sighed. “Oh, it’s been a long time. Organs are similar, I believe. The haunches are thicker. More body muscle per weight on the Ibik.”

“No one else knows. I’ll figure it out,” Fallon reassured here. “After lunch, I’ll come and get you. We’ll go east to the desert if that is what is there.”

“Bebe, Alpen, Drindl?” she asked.

“You’re right. We need to get away. We’ll figure it out later. Maybe we can double back, get my weapons.” He reached for her and gave her a hug. “I need to get back.”

“I should be more anxious, sleeping out here by myself,” Alithea said. “There is something in the cake. You?”

Taking stock of his mood, “I’m worried, but confident somehow.”

“These villagers – earlier today, you were surprised at their timidness. They are not aggressive. There is something in the food.” She picked up Erthen, who stirred briefly in her arms. “His breathing is slow, but regular. I feel better.”

“You think they are feeding different rations?” Fallon asked.

She thought a moment. “One for the prisoners, one for the children, one for the villagers here, one for the guards. Maybe one for the queen and those other strange creatures like her.” She stopped as she remembered. “I forgot. The miners.”

“Yes, I helped load the miners’ lunch this morning,” Fallon said.

“It made me ill, delirious,” Alithea said. “Just handling it. How many ovens?”

Fallon thought. “Six, I think.”

“See if there is a batch of cakes that are not contaminated. The ones for the queen or the guards. We’ll take those with us. Some of the calf meat would help. I will wait for you.”

They hugged and Fallon returned to the sleeping quarters in the village.