Bitter Harvest

 

Sisseku showed no recognition of Alithea, who had been young when Alpen’s brother left the Jade tribe to journey south and live with his new partner among the Dallesa tribe. Alithea followed Sisseku to the living quarters at the bottom of the hill. Sisseku bid her to sit with Erthen while she searched a closet.

After rummaging a bit, Sisseku held out a basket weave papoose. “Do you speak Jade?”

Alithea faltered, not knowing the jumble of half-truths that Fallon might have told Sisseku. “I am from the north,” she answered in the Jade language.

Sisseku’s smile was sad and weary. “My partner was from also from that tribe,” she answered in a stilted but fluent Jade.

“Is he here with you?” Alithea asked.

“He died at the mine,” she answered and motioned to Alithea to stand up, then fitted the papoose over Alithea’s shoulders. “This was our daughter’s. I think your son will fit it quite nicely.” The harness had a large compartment for a small child in the back and a small compartment in the front.

Alithea wanted to turn and tell Sisseku that Mellen was alive but dared not. She remembered Alpen’s admonition, “We are at war, a slow war” and did not let her guard down. “Thank you,” she said and leaned down to pick Erthen up. Sisseku took the boy and placed him in the papoose, facing forward and Alithea flexed her knees to let Erthen find his balance on her back.

Sisseku gave him a little treat. “You are a good boy!” She patted the small compartment over Alithea’s chest, then dropped a few treats in. She filled a small bladder with fresh water and set it in the front pouch.  

Alithea nodded, pleased at the construction and thoughtfulness. “Did your partner make this? It’s a little home.”

Sisseku smiled. “I am a good weaver. You will not be here long, or I could teach you.”

“Where am I going?” Alithea asked.

“To the queen’s palace this afternoon. After that,” she shrugged. “You can keep the papoose.”

Sisseku stayed in the village to help Fallon cook the calf. An older village woman tied a long leash under the harness of the papoose and gave the other end to the Fae warrior who sat astride a wolfbear. She led Alithea away from the village, the wolfbear following close behind. The closeness of the wolfbear did not bother Erthen, who hugged Alithea’s neck with one arm while he held his treat with the other.

After a short journey through the forest, they came on another clearing and the old woman pointed to several bushes. Alithea recognized the hazel fury plant and nodded to the old woman, who pointed downslope and signaled that she would look for more plants.

Alithea knelt and gathered leaves from the hazel fury plant. Ground into a paste, it was a good wound antiseptic. Withdrawing the bladder with water, Alithea took a sip, then handed a treat back to Erthen, who snatched it from her. She stuffed the hazel fury leaves into the front pouch of the papoose, working quickly to pick the ripe leaves.

Through the tall grass Alithea saw a flash of red. She looked back at the Fae warrior seated on the wolfbear, then downslope but could not see the old woman. She turned back to the guard and tapped on her leash, motioning to the spot. She felt the slight tug of the leash at her shoulders as it dragged through the tops of the tall grass.

She recognized the purpury berry. It was not really a medicine but a wonderful treat that would soon spoil. Her heart raced when she saw the tiny gray specks on the berries. During her medical training, Altiss' mother had warned the students not to pick such berries. They carried the plague that had killed many of their people long ago.

She stood up, ready to move on. Erthen reached over her shoulder to pick one of the berries. She caught his hand, took the berry, then wiped his fingers clean. She took two of his fingers in her mouth and sucked to make sure that they were clean, then took a drink from her pouch and spit it out to clear any poison residue from her mouth.

She glanced at the Fae warrior who seemed distracted by something high up in the tree canopy. In the stillness of the autumn day, she felt a sudden clarity and composure. These monsters had taken her children and enslaved her people. As a doctor, she had faithfully obeyed her duty to preserve life. She had even repaired the wounds of Glade prisoners captured in battle. Now she must take life to preserve life. She was like the Alsace bird who slashes the life from its prey to feed its young.

She reached down into the pouch, fished out two treats and gave one to Erthen to keep him occupied. She wrapped a thin cloth around her fingers and palm, then calmly bent down again and gathered the berries and laid them on the hazel fury leaves in her front pouch. She deftly laid some hazel fury leaves over the berries, being careful not to touch them.

When she was done, she motioned to the guard that she was ready to move on. In the clearing, she waited for the old woman who reported that she could find no more ripe plants. As they returned to the village, Alithea felt as though her front pouch was weighted with rocks. In her anxiety, she was forgetting to breathe. She took deep breaths and followed the woman to the village. Where could she hide the berries?