table of contents – (spoilers)
“This stugroot is awful!” Barrelmender snapped, glaring down into his mug. He and Choke were sitting together in the barracks’ dining room.
“I know. I’m sorry, Brother,” Choke said automatically as he began wolfing down big spoonfuls of his breakfast gruel.
“Unacceptable! How can anyone ruin stugroot? It’s already awful. Making it even worse must be some manner of dark talent.”
“Yes, I know, Brother. I am sorry.”
“No you aren’t. If you cared about your duties as a host here even a little, you’d have your woman making it. Her stugroot is quite passable,” Barrelmender said, glaring around the dining room. “This whole place needs her touch. It’s filthy! Disgraceful!”
“I know, Brother, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t patronize me, you whelp! So long as you are going to haul the woman in here at all hours to service your lust, you may as well task her to push a mop around a little while she’s here.”
This froze Choke mid-chew. He stared at Barrelmender in alarm.
“Oh, that got your attention, did it?” Barrelmender snorted.
“I’m sorry, Brother. I just… I… Ahm. I just thought—”
“Are you developing a stutter? Like a child caught with his fingers in the treacle jar, you. I know precisely what you were ‘just’ thinking. I am woefully familiar with such frailty, as you well know. You needn’t explain yourself to me. I ought to commend you for making such a better choice than I did. But, who do we kid with our illusions of agency in this regard? It is our sort’s lot to be chosen. Led around by our base appendage.”
Barrelmender drifted off to stare into space. Choke continued eating. He was almost through his gruel when Barrelmender roused himself:
“What I will not allow, I will not allow it! I will not allow that good woman to be further sullied. It is not right, with all that she has been through!”
“I’m sorry, Brother. But you just said she chose me. That’s exactly—”
“Shut up! Do you think I do not know my own mind? Mariola is a good woman. Intelligent. Aware of herself and her surroundings. Hardworking. Honest. Earnest. Remarkable! She came to me earlier than usual to do my chores today and she sought out my counsel. Me? Me! What? That a person such as that would come to know a person such as myself and seek me, me! Me of all people! Seek me out for counsel in a matter such as this. How troubled must she be? I ask you! How unsettled her mind must be.”
Barrelmender picked up his stugroot mug and began to take another sip. As he caught a whiff of it, he flinched away. He looked glumly down into its murky depth for a moment before pouring it out onto the floor beside his chair. Barrelmender calmly set the empty mug back down on the table and continued:
“Do you understand, you wretch, how unsettling it must be for a woman such as this, who has been through what she has, to be regarded as a whore yet again?”
“I… Oh, no. I see, Brother. But that’s not what I—”
“Your mind is not at issue here!” Barrelmender roared, smashing his hand down on the table, sending his empty cup flying. “It is her mind we speak of! She feels complicit in her degradation here. Indeed, she takes on the full mantle of responsibility. She takes herself to task. For initiating this thing between you. In her weakness, she turned you to her purpose. But yet she understands how she must be regarded in this. By your men. By the community she has been dislocated into. For, to these people, what is she but a whore now?”
Barrelmender and Choke sat in silence for a while after this. Eventually, it was Choke who broke it:
“I see, Brother. I understand. But what should I—”
“You? Ha! You think you are the one to pilot the both of you through this situation? Ha! When you have been so thoroughly rudderless. Not you.”
“Okay then, Brother. You, I suppose? What should we do?” Choke asked.
“Witless children. Flailing around in the dark for a solution that is right there in front of you, as obvious as the nose on your faces. You shall have to be married. Immediately.”
“Oh. Right. Yes. Ahm. Married. Okay… but…”
“Again with the stutter. What arrogance the two of you have to think that somehow you are above the precise, correct, age-old solution for this problem you have created for yourselves. Why not marriage? She wants you. You want her. Whyever not marriage?”
“I understand that, Brother. But I am in the army, now. I am assigned to command here. I can’t— I can’t just get married, can I?”
“Can’t you? If soldiers are not allowed to breed, how are we to create new ones? Of course you may marry. You must simply have permission from your commanding officer. And as for the logistics of it, essentially being in the field and all, it is quite usual for junior officers, in particular, to bring their wives along. Not only their wives, either. Normally, I believe, officers install their doxies in a nearby location, just off base. Some room or shed or what have you. The CO’s fuck hut, I have heard it referred to. But for a proper wife, of course, a proper situation is in order. A room or cottage in town, I should think. However, if the two of you prefer, I suppose installing her here in your room is not out of the question. I leave that to your discretion. It actually would be preferable, logistically speaking. You will be right here with your men, and you would not need to spare time going to her in order to have your gruntings.”
Barrelmender sat and watched Choke grapple with the notion of being suddenly married. When it seemed he was no longer on the precipice of panic, Barrelmender gestured towards Choke’s bowl on the table:
“Finish your breakfast, boy.”
“Yes, Brother.”
“I understand, boy, that it might seem ill for me, of all people, to intercede in this matter. But it is because of my failings in this regard that I feel compelled to speak. I am no parish shepherd. In my prime I would not pluck a hair for the muddlings of small folk. Filthy, witless creatures. I am a battle cleric. Or, I was. And in you I see a reflection of my weakness. You are a warrior. And a man of principle and stout heart. As I once was. You have sworn no oath of celibacy, as I did. So to rut is no grave sin for you. But as this folly of Mariola plays itself out, it will sully your own esteem of yourself. You will drag yourself down over it. I will not allow that. And not because of moralistic claptrap. But because your heart must remain stout if you are to do all that must be done in the days to come. Do you understand, child?”
“I think I do, Brother. Thank you.”
“So marry this woman. Or don’t. But you are done fornicating with her out of wedlock. I may not have the moral authority to proclaim that, but I do have the practical. And so, I intercede now.”
Choke nodded. “I understand, Brother. I agree.”
Barrelmender met his eye. “But?”
“Yes, Brother. I understand, and agree with you, but I am concerned about whether I am allowed to marry. I am sure you are correct when you say that it is fine with the permission of my commanding officer. That is the Baron Hart. I need his permission.”
“Baron Hart? Drivel! You are here under my command. You are my soldier. As a Brother of the Holy Stone and the lawful magistrate of this place, were I not a catastrophic wreck, there would be no questioning my authority. Certainly not by some trifling wilderness baron. A mere colonel, no less! Ha! No. You are mine. However, since I am a catastrophic wreck, and you are but a whelp who has seen nothing of this world, you may be forgiven for failing to understand the proper order of things.”
“Okay, Brother. I see. If you say so. Of course there is the matter of Mariola herself,” Choke said.
“What of her?”
“Well, does she even want to marry me? Did you discuss this with her?” Choke asked.
Barrelmender waved this away dismissively. “Discussion? Not as such. I told her that if she wanted you, she must marry you. She expressed concern over the gap of years between you, and her barrenness. Which is a consideration. You see what a thoughtful person she is? And, yes, if you want children, she is not the ideal choice. Having said that, however, if that is important to you, you could always take up a breeder on the side at a later time. Or take in some orphan or another. Probably, though, we shall all be dead soon, so I should think that her defective womb is a positive. And as for the age gap: yes, as the elder, she will naturally take a more dominant role in the relationship. But that is to the good as well, I think. You are an infant in all worldly matters besides military. She might teach you much of the world. Dirty up some of that monastic shine. It won’t hurt your development, is what I am saying.”
Choke thought this over and nodded.
“I understand, Brother. I think I need to go and speak to her now.”
“Yes. I’ll allow it. She is in the church, waiting for you. Go to her and settle this, one way or another. But you mark me well, boy: this shall be the last time the two of you are alone together without being man and wife. If this silliness continues, I will drop the hammer of Church law on the both of you. And let me tell you: this world needs you as Otilla’s helper. So you will not be the one to suffer the full brunt of it. Understood?”
“Yes, Brother. I understand. Thank you. I will go to the church now. Will you join me?”
“No. I think not. I shall stay here and help out with the men. Otilla and Sergeant Nikolas are still out in the wilderness, yes?” Barrelmender asked.
“Yes they are, Brother.”
“And I hear we have visitors. Soldiers from Spitzer and some woodsman from Callic. I ought to have been informed, no?”
Choke flinched. “Yes, Brother. My apologies. I had planned on coming to you to make a full report later today, after Otilla and Nikolas have reported back. I did not want to bother you more than necessary.”
“Understood. Yes. Thoughtful of you, indulging my weakness, I suppose. Go now to Mariola. Make her your wife. If she agrees, tell her to stay in the church and continue praying for guidance. Then come back here to get me. I’ll marry the two of you this afternoon, after I’ve heard both of your confessions. Any questions?”
“Ah. Oh. This afternoon? Yes. Right. Okay.”
“Whyever not? Delaying would only disrupt your fornications further, would it not? We are, after all, expecting an apocalypse any day now. Go. Get it done.”
“Yes, Brother. Thank you, Brother,” Choke said, hurrying to tidy up the dishes.
***
Mariola was in the church pews, staring up at the Wheel. A good number of villagers were in the pews with her, praying in a more standard fashion. Choke dropped to his knees and prayed silently to Stron before approaching her. She met his eye with a look of soft worry.
“Kitchen, I guess?” she asked.
“Yes. We must stay in the church, and we cannot embrace. But I need to speak to you alone,” Choke said.
In the kitchen, Mariola poured them each a mug of stugroot before they sat across the table from each other.
“Huh. This is much better than ours,” Choke said after taking a sip.
“What, the stug at yar place? Of course. Yar guy there makes it too weak to start with and then boils it down. That burns it. Ye gotta make it strong and then keep it off the heat once it’s boiled.”
“I see. I actually don’t much care for any stugroot. Have you ever had coffee?” Choke asked.
“I have no idea what that is. It’s a drink? It’s good?”
“Yes, it is. Very good. But it’s from Marrovique, so it is proscribed. Not that that seems to stop anybody.”
“Okay, that’s a whole bunch more stuff I never heard of before. Is that what we’re doing here? Talking about drinks?” Mariola asked with a nervous laugh.
“No,” Choke sighed. “Look—”
“No, I’m sorry, Choke,” Mariola interrupted. “I’m sorry I said anything to Barrelmender. I was just talking. It wasn’t meant to be anything serious. But then he, I don’t know, he had an episode and declared that we have to get married now. If we wanna keep having sex, I guess.”
“Yes, that’s the way of it. But—” Choke started.
“Yeah, but, does have that right? I mean; I guess so. But, really? We’re just two people. And soldiers, it seems, have women all the time. Why is it his business?” Mariola asked indignantly.
Choke goggled at her.
“What! Seriously!” she exclaimed.
“Well, first of all, of course it’s his business. He’s the priest here,” Choke said, attempting to hide his amusement at Mariola’s ignorance.
“And that means he gets to tell everyone how to live their lives?”
“Of course. Exactly.”
“And so when he’s talking about church law here, that’s serious? What does that mean? What would happen if we just kept sleeping together without getting married?”
“Well, that’s up to him. The violation is fornication. That means extramarital sex. So, sex between unmarried people. All violation of church law is punishable by death, but the exact punishment is at the discretion of the judge. Now, as I understand it, just from my instruction on Church law from the orphanage, the crime of fornication is rarely punished at all, and never very seriously. Usually time in the stocks. Possibly branding for repeat offenders.”
Now it was Mariola’s turn to goggle at Choke.
“What? I’m not making this up. I understand you grew up outside the reach of the Church, but this is very basic. And I am a Stronian. Not a good one, obviously, but I will strive to be. Barrelmender is right. Absolutely.”
Mariola shook her head as she blew out a heavy sigh.
“Well, if I knew all that, I wouldn’t have said anything to him,” she muttered.
“That would be too bad. I’m glad you did. But what did you say to him? I would like to hear your concerns.”
“Concerns is putting it too strong. I was just talking. I talk to him in the mornings. Ye know, about my life, and what I’ve been through. He’s a good listener. It’s helped. What?” Mariola asked sharply as she noticed the reaction Choke thought he was masking.
“No, it’s just… really? Barrelmender? A good listener? That’s just surprising, is all.”
“Is it? I guess maybe he’s different with you. Men are always that way. But, yeah, he’s broken. He’s been broken. He’s been weak. But he’s trying to put himself back together. And he’s an educated man who’s seen the worst of this world. And it didn’t finish him. And he listens. Most people, at best, just sit there quiet while what ye say bounces right off them. When ye speak, he listens. And when he tells ye what he thinks about that, ye can tell he cares. At least enough to bother giving it some real thought.”
“Okay. I suppose I can see that. That’s how priests, or monks, actually, in his case, are supposed to be. And it’s good that you’ve relied on him in this capacity. You are helping him. Helping him remember what he ought to be. For everyone.”
“Well, I aint looking to fix him for yar sake. Or anyone’s,” Mariola snapped, obviously annoyed. “And he missed the mark this time, I can tell ye. He takes one little thing I say way too serious and overcooked it. Like yar guy overboils the stug.”
“Okay. Well, what did you say that set him off?”
Mariola sighed. “Look, I knew that he knew about us. Us having sex, I mean. But he hasn’t said anything about it, so that’s fine. But now we’re sleeping together at the barracks. I guess. So that’s gonna be gossiped about. And I guess that was just on my mind, and I thought I should tell him about what’s going on. And he went off on that. About how it must really bother me to be regarded that way by the community.”
“And doesn’t it?” Choke asked quietly.
“I don’t know! Not like he was thinking. I don’t suppose. Look, this is all new to me, right? I’ve never been around this many people before. Not living amongst them, I mean. And I saw how them women in Spitzer are, ye know, when Peep and me were running around pretending to be a mom and boy looking for their bullshit man. And I realized this morning that, yeah, everybody’s gonna be gossiping about us. Or, they are doing that already. And it’s just weird, ye know? The idea that all these people I’ve never even talked to are gonna have something to say about what I’m doing with myself. And so I brought that up to Barrelmender. But I want ye to know, I didn’t do that so he’d push ye to marry me. I don’t wanna get married again. That’s not what I’m after here!”
“Oh. You don’t?”
“What? You do? Choke, ye can’t marry me. Come on.”
“Why can’t I?” Choke demanded.
“Well, I can’t have kids, for one. Ye need a woman who can bear ye children. Later on, I mean. When ye get where yar going,” Mariola said with more than just a little sadness.
“What does that mean? Where I’m going?”
“Yeah. Yar an officer in the army. Yar gonna get sent all over the place and meet all kinds of women and ye got yar whole life ahead of ye. And when ye get just a bit older, yar gonna want to have kids. That’s just the way of it. And I don’t wanna stand in the way of that.”
“That’s just the way of it? Don’t you speak for me! Don’t you tell me what I want!” Choke almost shouted, smacking his palm on the table.
“Yar a young man. Barely more than a boy. Ye want sex. And like all men, ye’ll say and do anything to get it. In yar own way, of course. Ye want sex, but ye also wanna be good in the eyes of Stron, or whoever.”
“It’s not just that! I want you! I want to be with you. That’s it.”
“That can’t be it. That’s not it. Ye aint thinking clearly. Yar gonna want a family,” Mariola said, the distant sadness still with her.
“Stop telling me what I want!” Choke slammed his hand on the table and stood up hard enough to knock his chair down. He grabbed the chair by its backrest and flung it hard into the corner to create space to stomp around in, which he proceeded to do.
“I don’t want children!” he shouted as he paced up and down on his side of the kitchen, never looking towards Mariola. “I don’t! I’m an orphan. Don’t you get it? We all are! And we went into the bush and we made some more orphans. Killed their parents and left them alone in the world. And that’s just the way of it. That’s the way of it. And those kids were just unlucky. Unlucky to be born to bandit parents. Unlucky to have encountered us. Because what are we? We are killers. That’s what we do. That is our purpose. That’s why we were saved. And we kill for Stron. And the Faith. And the faithful. To keep the sheep of the flock safe so that their children don’t have to be orphans. Do you understand that?” Choke said, finally stopping his pacing and lowering his voice as he looked to Mariola.
“I think I do.”
“Good. Well, meditate on it. That’s who I am. So, with that being so, how am I supposed to have children? How am I supposed to ride into combat with a clear head and heart knowing that if I die, my children will be in a dire situation. I have no family. I have no property in the safe and settled lands. I have no means to get that. If I marry and have children, my family will be on their own when I die. I cannot do that to anyone. I will not do that. Do you believe me when I say that?”
“I do,” Mariola said, meeting his eye.
“Good. Now, before I told you that you should leave this place. That we are going to be riding towards whatever this doom approaching is. You refused. You said you want to stick with Peep. Do you still feel that way?”
Mariola took a moment to think carefully and collect herself before answering: “Yes. I do.”
“Well, that is very stupid of you. But, if it is so, then you are with me. For I am with Peep, to the bitter end, whatever that is. And do you have feelings for me? Is this thing we have been doing more than just sex to you?”
“Yes, it is. Of course.”
“Good. I feel the same way. So what could be simpler? We are together. Heading in the same direction. Likely to die together on that road. And Brother Barrelmender has said he will marry us. His authority will make that right with my superiors in the army. There is nothing standing between us. And I will tell you now, that if you decide not to marry me, I will respect that. And we will have to end every intimacy between us. And I will not take another woman, because I cannot abide the thought of bringing a child into this. And I cannot abide a child of mine being fed to the moon. And so, I will be as a monk. As I probably should have been, if I had been worthy enough. And that is the way it is.”
“I understand,” Mariola said. “I just don’t know. I have to think about all this.”
“Of course. I will go and attend to my duties. You should go back into the church and think. Meditate. Pray. And later, Barrelmender will come and ask you what you want. And if you want to be my wife, and to have me as your husband, then we will do that. Today. This afternoon. Because we don’t know when this world is going to end. We don’t know how much time we have. Let’s not waste it. That’s it. I’ll leave you. I hope that we will be married soon. Goodbye, Mariola.”
With this, Choke blinked away his tears as he set his chair back at its place at the table. Then he left Mariola and returned to his duties.
Muse Vassal 