Harrow Carter, 18, District Nine
The robust teen swung a wheat bag, the fourth, over his back and walked towards the granary.
"Harrow Carter!" an irate voice shouted. Harrow winced, letting two of the bags fall down. He'd forgotten the woman would be nearby checking the milling wheels today.
"You will break your back, Young Man. Carrying twice your weight, madness!" Megan said, jabbing a stern finger at him. "At your age, you go around feeling like a strong bull, then at forty your wife will be doing all your work for you."
His father's back was bloody fine, Megan just had the smarter job so she brought back more. Still, sweet of her to care so much. Harrow smiled sheepishly at his Step-Ma.
"Sorry, I'll make two trips."
"It don't make you gain no time, Harrow," Megan said sadly, "you just pay that time all at once when you get old. Please don't go thinking it won't happen to you. You be smarter than that."
"I hear you, Megan. I won't be lazy again," Harrow said, more subdued. The woman lifted herself on tiptoes to caress his rough cheek.
"There is no lazy in you, just the speed of young bones."
He almost sighed. Only two at once would keep him lifting 'till sundown. But Megan wasn't his step-Ma for nothing, so two at a time he carried.
Harrow slowed as he passed by Mirna's home, his arms aching from a whole day's work, and he wondered why he tempted trouble. He was three hours late. Still she would understand the back health trouble. Women took that stuff seriously, at least he hoped so.
The front door was open. There were only two tiny rooms but Mirna had her own place, and that was grand. Harrow didn't know why he'd only looked at younger girls before, the twenty-two year old was his very own dream.
She was lying on the bed, looking bored and sexy like a rich girl. Stark naked. Harrow found his mouth go dry. Mirna stood up slowly, and walked up to him, swaying her hips. She gave him a long deep kiss. Harrow was in a slight daze when she put two fingers on his lips.
"Oh wait, you're late. Get out of my house."
He stared at her stupidly as the words registered. His face fell. No way. This woman was evil.
"Out, now, tomorrow six AM sharp."
Harrow was sulking in front of her now locked door, waiting for blood to go back to his brain. He groaned. She was a tough little lady but she'd never pulled such a trick on him before. He couldn't go telling those sacks to pile themselves, could he? It wasn't his fault! He repressed the urge to storm back in: maybe Mirna had made a deal with her overseer to be there on time, and had waited for nothing.
That was why he'd only seen girls younger than him before Mirna, he decided. They'd never have thought of such devilish payback. He dragged his feet back home, glowering at the horizon.
"Harrow, up, up, up!" Six-year-old Teff squealed, diving into his eldest brother's bed.
Harrow groaned, his head pounding. He'd just had to listen to the guys and drink with them, hadn't he? Now rest day was ruined.
"Teff, what time is it?"
"Half past eight and you were snoring so loud you scared the birds away." He giggled. "Mama even took a picture."
Harrow winced at the prospect of Megan blackmailing him with her next time he snuck off to Mirna's. She'd be capable of plastering in front of the Mayor's building if she were of a mind. Harrow lifted Teff off him with one hand and struggled to his feet.
"Big Boy can't hold his liquor?" Megan teased by the door.
Harrow tucked a squealing Teff beneath his arm and grinned despite his headache."Well it wasn't real liquor, Ma'am, not really."
"Indeed not," another voice said from behind her.
"Don't chew him up just yet, Rosemary. He's shy about his big muscles that one."
Fat Rose was here? Trousers! Where were his trousers? Panicked, Harrow dropped Teff on the bed who squealed some more.
"Do you mind?" His other brother Emmer shouted from across the house, "it's like you're gutting a pig in there"
Harrow snorted, like Emmer knew what pigs sounded like. But maybe he did, the tyke was smart like that, understanding stuff like why rainbows went after rain. Harrow hoped Emmer'd get some posh job like Megan and have fat little children to play with. He liked the sound of that 'Uncle Harrow'. Save that wouldn't be so soon, with Emmer being eleven.
Bleeding trousers. Harrow finally found them. Fat Rose would be thinking he was a girl, taking his own good time to dress. What was the healer doing there anyway?
"Morning Rose, sorry for the wait. How can I help?" He asked with a grin.
Fat Rose wasn't really fat. Fat was all round. Fat was for rich people in rich districts. Rose was fat where it mattered and only a little soft in the other places, she was gorgeous. And she was amazing, making plants do to people what no one else could make plants do.
Rose grinned back. "You got set up, Big Boy."
Harrow blushed at the nickname. It was weird coming from a girl his age. "Set up?"
"Come and see."
Rose brought him behind the house. A big stack of sad looking ferns which had not been there the day before made a mess of the grass. Harrow frowned.
"That's what made the alcohol," Rose said, shaking her head. "Goats could've distilled them better by the way. But honest, Harrow, these plants were engineered to make fuel alcohol, not the drinking type. Whose grand idea was it?"
Harrow's frown turned into a dark scowl, but he kept his mouth shut. He'd set Terrence right later, the jarhead, and if that big idiot had been the one to dump them leaves into his garden he'd do more than just shake him.
"How d'you know to come here though, Rose?"
She rolled his eyes at him. "How much you weight," she asked.
"Round two hundred," Harrow guessed.
"How much you drunk last night?"
Harrow tried to remember. "Four pitchers maybe? But half was syrup in each."
Rosemary sighed and crossed her arms in front of her ample bosom. "And you got stoned bad. You weasel friend Fertle, he drunk five. He be less than half your weight, Harrow. His sister woke me up at four 'cause he was getting mighty cold and wasn't moving."
Oh bummer. "Is he gonna be okay?"
The healer snorted. "Should be. Okay enough to make me come here. Might bust his brain doing that again, though. There are toxins in the plants. You don't distill them right, you're drinking little death. "
"I had no idea. I'll stop them next time, sorry for giving you more work." Harrow said, feeling bad. He hoped Mirna would never find out. She'd have his head for being 'juvenile', which was a smart word for stupid kid.
He gestured to the heap. "So you want those, Rose? Should I burn them?"
"How about my brother Crisp takes them off your yard and you lend me those arms of yours for few hours? We saw a boar in the forest. We'd rather not share the hunt price."
Harrow nodded. He understood her reasoning. Besides maybe the ferns were poisonous to touch now or something. He knew even less of the weird Capitol bred plants some people grew than of the flowers of the hunting grounds. And he could use a good hunt.
"Can I bring Teff? He's learning fast. He knows to be real quiet."
"That squealer?" Rosemary said, looking skeptical. "If you feel like it."
Harrow winked at her.
"Teff, come out with your hunting gear," he bellowed, "We're taking a walk."
"Harrow, please," Emmer shouted from inside, annoyance obvious in his tone. "I'm trying to think!"
Teff soon came zooming out of the house, struggling with his brother's large bow. His cute face was beaming.
"Go, go, go! Wild animals don't go waiting around for no one," he sang.
He got all quiet when Fat Rose put a finger to her full lips. She tousled his hair. Harrow smiled approvingly. The kid listened to her. She'd make a good mother.
Rosemary Shakra, 18, District Nine
She squatted near the big tree, it was still wet from the previous week's heavy rains. She scraped up the fungi. Those were good against muscle cramps. Small Chickaree was leaning against the same tree, bored, but the child knew not to bother her. Peacekeepers gave bonuses to those who caught those who didn't turn it all in, whether it be scrawny squirrels or deer pickings. Rosemary wasn't left to harvest her plants in peace, no, the little darling had to watch over her. Ten years old and already so nimble... but Rosemary didn't dare make an ally of her.
It was all a balance: if all played it legal, if the watchers were too good, many people starved and less grain and meat went to the Capitol. If there was no more watchers, if no more in Nine agreed to rat the hunters out to the peacekeepers, then Nine would become a big jail like Eleven, and many people would die. Chickaree would go telling people if Rose asked for her help to hunt. She'd ask for a part for her hungry siblings, for her tiring parents. Chickaree's best friend would know, her family got hungry too for sure, and so on it went. Rosemary had done little schooling but she could see these things as clearly as an old man's aches.
Raspberries, just to her left, little bushes. Those sold dear. The Capitol did not know the worth of food. Two pounds of raspberries should not be worth more than a fat rabbit. Who'd you feed with raspberries? Truffles. Behind there were truffles. Truth to tell, crumbs of eaten truffles. Rose glanced at Chickaree. Poor girl needed to sleep more. Rosemary swept the truffles under old leaves so they would not be seen.
"Look, raspberries, why don't you harvest those while I keep looking for my herbs."
The child straightened and efficiently went to work, setting her bow down. Her eyes were far away. Rosemary promised herself she'd ask while they were heading back. She followed the truffle trail. She noticed the smell. Boar. She needed to get Chickaree off that trail. It wasn't legal to attack a boar with less than six. Rosemary agreed with that logic, she'd spent many a night patching those ugly tears up and setting broken bones. But she could poison it, still keep the meat good, she just needed time. The peacekeepers wouldn't bother her, she'd been good for a very long time. And she healed them too.
"You finished?"
Chickaree nodded, so Rosemary pointed away from the boar's lair. "You look bored to death, let's go get some birds for feathers."
The little girl blushed and gave her a shy smile. "Thanks, Fat Rose."
Rosemary smiled back. She'd learned to love that name. She was like her mother, putting on weight just by smelling food. A peacekeeper had told her about evolution selecting the best traits for survival, wanting to impress her. She really just cared that the little ones slept tighter when held against her big breasts and that people took her seriously because she looked grown up.
Rosemary was running, her bare feet not even feeling the little sharp rocks anymore. She'd had to grow tough, scooting with little notice here and there to answer summons. They'd had a motorbike once but there was no money to fix it, not with the twins growing so fast. At least the phone line was still working.
She heard Carina's screams before she reached the door. She'd brought three bored-looking peacekeepers, because she liked to show them. Show them that District Nine wasn't One, Two or even Five. So that they would remember when they ordered a whipping. At least Carina's man Sylvan had done as she said, boiled towels and two basins full of water were near the birthing woman. Wizened Chow was wringing her bony hands.
"The baby's upside down, I can't turn it," the old lady said, "Carina's too small and it's too big."
They'd told Rosemary that on the phone. The healer would rather also have known the mother's tail-bone had been crushed by the baby's stuck buttocks. She hoped the painkilling paste would be enough.
"I'm going to need you two to carry the basins there, please," she told the peacekeepers. Big strapping lads and a smaller but still strapping lady. There was one thing she knew about those people: they never said "we can't do". The men looked disgusted and terrified but they stayed and that Rosemary liked.
Carina screamed when she cut the baby out and sewed her back up, but as long as she didn't thrash against her man, Rosemary knew the painkillers were working fine enough. The peacekeeper woman was holding the legs, it seemed her and Sylvan were doing a competition at who made the best grossed out face while keeping Carina's limbs steady. Rosemary chuckled, letting Chow wash the squealing thing. One big baby girl. Poor Carina, her first birth. Rosemary signaled Sylvan over. The man took the black cloth off his woman's eyes and unplugged her ears. Carina grinned on hearing the baby's cries.
"Don't get back up," Rose quickly said. "You can feed her but stay down and don't you sit on your tail-bone until it heals. Can you afford Doctor Kruge for a small pot of bone balm and something for the scar?"
"We can make it for that," Sylvan said, smiling like a child himself as he poked his suckling daughter.
"You got a name for her?" One of the peacekeepers said, his voice shaking a little.
"Raven, Raven Rosemary," Carina breathed, her gratefulness obvious despite the exhaustion.
Rosemary grinned to hide the tightness in her throat. "Call me if something is wrong, Chow. I got to be going"
"There's bread in the basket, take the basket. We'll call you at least once more, you'll bring it back then," Chow said in her trembling but strong voice.
Grand, she could use the bread.
Rosemary gave the two kids waiting eagerly with their grandfather and uncle a big smile. "A big little girl, Raven. Your Ma's got to rest some more but she'll be alright."
They cheered, hugging each other and hugging her. The uncle even shook hands with the peacekeepers. The one who'd asked for the baby's name grasped Rosemary's arm roughly when they were away from the house.
"You all give birth like that?" He said, looking appalled.
Rosemary held his gaze. "We got one real doctor for all fifty thousand. Even when he's not busy, he's got no space to keep a woman heavy with child with him long. And it's some walk to get to his house. Too long when the waters are gone. Few have got vehicles. It's not always that messy, most women give birth just fine in their house. Some die."
Rosemary heard the woman curse under her breath and felt a deep satisfaction rising in her chest. If enough peacekeepers started to want to help, maybe they would do some real good.
Harrow Carter, 18, District Nine
Harrow rubbed his raw chin and cheeks. His step-Ma had forced him to shave for the reaping. At least he'd gotten no cuts this time. He had to admire the woman though, she got their father to shave. When his father was not driving the truck, he was drinking himself stupid. He brought back coin and was no mean drunk, just a bit dopy. Harrow just didn't understand why he did it. There had been tragedies, and Harrow had wept like a kid when they'd moved Teff's stuff into Gran's old room, but it's not like their life was bad.
He could see over the other boys. The escort sat next to one of the bowls, probably not wanting to start early, writing in a little book. He was dressed little, with gold and black armbands and a weird white robe with a leopard skin draped over it. He had a colorful disk-like necklace and a weird striped head cloth that also fell before his ears. Harrow had liked last year's costume better, with all the painted tattoos and long feathers on his head.
"Emmer, what is he supposed to be?" He asked, as his family escorted him to the eighteens section.
"Egyptian, someone important." Emmer huffed at the other's blank look. "You know, big river in the desert, cool gods with animal heads, pyramids."
Oh right, them. Filthy rich and then died because they married their siblings and had stupid children. Cool. Except he totally could have been cooler.
"Why didn't he come dressed as a mummy then? Those are the best!" Harrow said.
Emmer's face lit up. "So you did listen when I told you about ancient Egypt!"
Harrow faked a wounded expression. "I always listen."
"Attention, District Nine."
Harrow clapped his brother on the back and hurried to his place. He bumped knuckles with Terrence when he saw him. He grinned at the red smudge on his face. "You've got lipstick on your cheek."
Terrence cursed and began wiping it off, looking smug all the same.
"Let's see who'll make history during this Sixty-third edition of the Hunger Games," Should-have-been-a-mummy said.
Make history? Capitolites had such a funny way of seeing things.
"Harrow Carter!"
Ah bummer. His brain had just gone blank, shock turning his limbs to stone. Well at least he was shaved. The wall of boys before him turned and gave him space to come forth. He shook Terrence's hand off his arm.
"What a lad! You sure will be noticed," the escort said approvingly.
"Can I go as a mummy?" Harrow said, joking to keep himself from thinking. Egyptian Dude just stared at him before chuckling loudly. "Well... You just might if you insist."
Harrow's heart hammered violently in his chest. He felt like doing all sorts of crazy things right now. "Totally, what's your name again by the way, Sir?"
The crowd chuckled nervously as the escort scowled. "Aegis Lorrel. You've seen me at all your reapings, Boy."
True, but the man's clothes were so much more interesting than his name.
"Sorry, Mr. Lorrel. I didn't forget you, just your name, Sir," he said as polite as he could. He wouldn't get the mummy costume if the other was angry. He made himself believe that yes, mummy costumes did matter right now.
"No harm done, Harrow. Any volunteers?" the man asked. Harrow's shoulders just sagged when no one spoke up.
"Then you will cheer for Harrow. Now..." He opened the paper slip from the girl's bowl. "Rosemary Shakra."
Harrow's head snapped back up. No. No way! District Nine needed her, Fat Rose couldn't go!
He realized he'd said that out loud when the escort narrowed his eyes. "No!" Harrow repeated, now furious. "Get someone who bloody deserves it!"
And he wasn't the only one to think like that. The chatter coming from the crowd was deafening. At least three voices soon rose above the others'.
"I volunteer!"
A girl from the sixteens' was already nearing the platform.
Wow. Harrow had never been so proud of his district.
"You move back right this instant," Rose's healer voice cut the air. Harrow liked the normal voice better, it reminded him of his Ma, but the other tone was scary effective. "You volunteer for me and I'll go poisoning your whole family, even your dogs."
Harrow recoiled. She sounded dead set on that, her blue eyes making the sky look pale. His shoulders slumped again as she stomped up next to him. Her heart was too big to accept another to die for her but she was being a jarhead, now many would die. Her mother was only half the healer she was.
The peacekeepers had to intervene, blocking the platform. Aegis was scribbling something down. The two victors, Tramm the Hunter and Strong Miller, were muttering among themselves. Harrow gulped as he remembered their ages, 51 and 69. No one had won the Games since, and those before had been in the really early Games, before the Careers. They were dead now anyway. Reality came back crashing on him. He saw a kid get hit by a peacekeeper after saying something nasty.
"Settle down," he bellowed in the microphone, his deep voice causing everyone to go quiet. "This isn't helping."
"Rose?" Harrow said, going for his puppy-eyed look that always worked on women.
"I'm going to the Capitol, learn your plants and don't fool around with your bodies, you only got one," she said firmly.
So much for puppy eyes. He felt chilled to the bone.
"Well, how about a little show of support for our two brave tributes," Aegis said, bringing his hands together. "And that's you too, Peacekeepers," he added sternly.
Harrow was stunned to see the uniformed men obey. He'd never really seen them as people before, with no kid he knew wanting to join them they'd always sort of just appeared places. He put his arm around Fat Rose. She was so pretty in her green dress with her thick auburn hair cascading around her kind face. He felt her lean against his back and for the first time wondered why he'd never done anything to stop the Hunger Games.
Mirna stormed in, her face murderous. She slapped his face. Harrow took a hold of her arms, stunned.
"Hey! I didn't go asking for it! I swear!"
"You were looking pretty thrilled at the idea of parading as an undead corpse," she growled
"Mirna, come on, you're going to shout at me?" Why did she always have to use big words?
"Oh yes, Harrow, I am. I am furious!"
Harrow stared at her, both hurt and awfully confused. Suddenly she was kissing him. He lifted her gently in his arms. When she put an end to the kiss, her brown eyes were still full of fire.
"This isn't over, Harrow," she warned him, leaving just as briskly.
Then Harrow got it. As long as they were fighting he had to come back and settle this. If he left at peace... Well maybe he'd fight less hard. He smiled, a sad loving smile, as Mirna unexpectedly came back in. She threw something at his feet.
"If you have to shag Fat Rose or any other one, or profess them undying love, do so. I trust you, even if I'll still beat you bloody for it."
His jaw was hanging open as his girlfriend exited the room again, this time for good. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He picked up the iron ring. He'd made it himself from a scrap of metal to celebrate their first season together.
Teff ran in yelling a battle cry, distracting him from his darkening thoughts.
"How many Careers can you squish with one wheat bag, Harrow?" He said, punching the air before him.
"Depends if there is wheat or another Career in the bag," Megan replied dryly, her green eyes moist.
Emmer was eyeing Harrow with contempt. "A mummy? Last famous lines of Harrow Carter, and it was for a mummy? You heard Aegis, Brother, how does a mummy make history?" The boy gulped, his voice breaking "A mummy is history!"
Harrow picked both Emmer and Megan up, letting them settle their cheeks on his shoulders.
"Want up! Want up too!" Teff said.
Harrow's father lifted the little boy up, letting him put his arms around the tribute's neck. The child nuzzled against his back.
"Dad, how about you save the bottle, so you'll really enjoy that drink when I get back," Harrow said with forced cheer. He heard his step-Ma stifle a sob in his neck.
The graying man met his son's eyes. He nodded, his face dark. "I'll try, I promise."
Harrow saw Terrence open the door, the other boy stopped on seeing he was with his family. He pursed his lips before speaking.
"Harrow, I lied the other day. I'm the one who put the leaves in your yard. You want to know why, you have to come back," He slipped out with a grin, waving at Teff who pulled a face at him from his vantage point.
Harrow scowled, he knew it!
Megan snorted in his ear. "Well that's one hell of an incentive, a good thing Terrence was here to remind you why you must live."
"Ma. Do shut up," Emmer whispered, tightening his hold on Harrow.
"You don't tell Ma no nothing," Harrow chided. Megan had raised him for the last twelve years, more than his own Ma. Despite the vivid memories he still had of his father's first wife, he believed he owed the woman in his arms that.
Megan began to sob in earnest, causing Teff to pout and struggle to hug her too. Harrow sat down before the little boy could strangle him.
The peacekeepers found him on the floor, his family in his arms.
"Do you have a camera?" His father asked, causing his wife to snort lightly.
"Well actually, yes," a young man with a big beard answered in low tones, pulling a device out from his pocked.
"Is that a mobile phone? For real?" Emmer said, his sad eyes flickering with curiosity as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
"Just a phone," The man muttered uneasily. He snapped a few shots. "I'll print them for you, come in front the Mayor's House at six pm, I'll be there," he promised.
"Thank you, Sir," Harrow said.
Rosemary Shakra, 18, District Nine
"Enjoy the feast," her father said. "The twins are too ill to come. I must stay." He hugged them both, but while Rose was used to the affectionate gesture, Crisp stiffened, his eyes moist.
Crisp had four tesserae to his name, four tesserae they didn't need that desperately but their father wouldn't hear reason. Rosemary scowled. So what if Crisp loved music and refused to find work? He was fourteen, he'd soon have to become an adult. He didn't deserve a father who made it so hard to earn his respect.
Rose understood the man, she did. His parents had been rotten and lazy and living off his aunts and uncles and Rose could feel the fury in shame in her father's eyes everytime he spoke of it. But he had no right to make Crisp pay for that and Rose wished her mother would speak up, but she didn't, not enough.
Crisp already had eleven welts on his back for bringing back food from the woods. He got no job but he still tried so hard. Today he wore a dashing suit and she had a brand new dress. She wished her father had let her use the money for healing supplies instead, or to repair the motorbike, but he'd hear none of it. Proud fool. Rose's clenched fist was curled around the soft fabric. It was so pretty, green like spring grass and cut low on her chest.
Crisp wasn't reaped. Harrow Carter was.
Rosemary felt her heart plummet. She couldn't remember when her crush on the ruggedly handsome six foot boy had started. Maybe it was because he was the best of her father but also all her father was not, strong, joyful and simple and just as devoted to his family. He'd dragged the boar they'd both shot down with poison-tipped arrows all the way back to the peacekeepers and sworn, hand over heart. She'd made the beast drink poison water and that the arrow pricks near its neck were just to check it was dead. He'd laughed all the way and never made it like she owed him something for doing that. Thinking back, Rosemary was glad little Teff had been there. Harrow had a girl. There were lines not to cross. Her insides twisted as he joked with the escort and asked for the man's name. That was Harrow all right, making you laugh when he was about to die. She swallowed, not wanting tears to make her waste the last moments she would see him for real.
"Rosemary Shakra."
She blinked multiple times. Her in the Games? With Harrow? She stepped out of her section in a daze. Voices snapped her back to reality. Volunteers. For her. She felt anger flare up inside her. No-one else would be dying and especially not to take her place!
"You volunteer for me and I'll go poisoning your whole family, even your dogs." she snapped, recognizing every one of them.
She stepped up next to Harrow, not meeting his eyes and wondering if she'd lost her mind. When she looked back, madness greeted her. She froze, she'd caused that? People shoving peacekeepers to let them volunteer? It wasn't right. Her brain refused to process what she was seeing. What had she done?
"Settle down! This isn't helping"
She jumped upon hearing Harrow's amplified voice, he was so grand, of course everyone would listen. He turned his warm brown eyes towards her, her cheeks threatened to burn as she met his pleading gaze.
"Rose?"
She couldn't let Harrow go alone. He was too nice, too trusting. She had to get him home.
"I'm going to the Capitol, learn your plants and don't fool around with your bodies, you only got one." She said into the microphone, her healer mask in place, knowing she had to look strong.
They all clapped, everyone, but Rosemary paid them no mind. Not when Harrow had his arms around her. She let herself rest against his strong chest.
Crisp came in shouting. "Why? They were there lining up for you! You'd saved them anyway, why didn't you let them!"
Rosemary buried her head in her hands and begun to sob. He spoke true. She had had no right to abandon him. And now so many pains would go unsoothed.
Gemma and Rye would never truly remember their older sister and she would never have the chance to kiss them goodbye. She regretted her previous harsh thoughts about her father, wishing he was here, with them. And no one would try to build bridges between the people and the peacekeepers anymore. Rosemary had spent all her little free time with her family but now wished she'd shared her dreams with a friend, that she'd taught the others more about what she'd found out about plants during the years.
"I just couldn't," she hiccuped, wiping her eyes. She saw understanding in Crisp's wet eyes but knew he was thinking she had morals about people dying like that for her. It should've been the first reason.
She wasn't even sure she could protect Harrow properly.
"I understand," Her mother said, pulling her close. Rosemary hugged her back. Yes she did. The elder Shakra had recognized her look in her eyes as she spoke of Harrow even before her daughter had become aware of her own feelings.
She pried her and Crisp away from her when she realized the voices behind the little room's door were accompanied by the sound of striking flesh. She hurried out, worried. She soon recognized the peacekeeper holding his bleeding nose as the one who'd asked for little Raven's name. He'd sent medicine to Carina in the evening after the birth.
"You should be ashamed," she told the crowd as she knelt next to him, fury swirling in her blue eyes. "You don't hit no-one. You don't hit him. Who here thinks their words can help me more than my Ma's goodbyes? Who wants to keep my brother from saying his?"
None of the dozen standing people said a word. She saw tears running down some of their faces.
"I'm so sorry,"Rosemary said softly, "I just want you to live happy. I don't want to have people hurt because of me."
Larry, a boy whose leg she'd set straight after a bad fall, walked up to her and crouched too.
"No, we're sorry, go back to your Ma. I'll help him."
"Thank you, Larry. Please accept his help, take care of them," she whispered to the peacekeeper, giving his hand a squeeze.
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