Chapter 4: The Lowlands
The slopes soon softened. Their trudging cart passed a few villages with houses between the trees, dry leaves on their rooves. People milled about that late morning, leading cattle to water and waving at the strangers. They wore happy faces, untouched by the furious mountains or wicked lowlands, according to Domo. That was where she would live, in a farm past the slopes, not too close to the cities. There, orphans were taken care of, and children ran happily. Widows lived off the compassion of philanthropists, those farm owners who would never run out of buyers. There were silos full of grain, enough to last another hundred years, although meat was something everyone wanted more of. The forest thinned, then ended, and the grass changed to a yellower shade. The houses changed, too, no more with hard wood exteriors. Colorful plaster and casual windowpanes protected those inside.
Domo stopped at a few villages, pawning dried meat for exorbitant prices (but Edie was sure she hadn't been a businesswoman in her past life – what did she know?). The buyers sounded grumpy but thanked Domo, mentioning those meddling MP's every other sentence. They were the bane of existence, so Edie worked to remember Amile's kind eyes and laidback attitude. She didn't mention their conversation to Domo, or that he'd promised to visit.
There were wide, open fields now, and the trail turned northeastern. Two or three hours later, Wall Sina broke the horizon, just a line in the sky. Raina's plodding brought them closer, closer, until Edie gaped at the sheer size of the inner wall.
The tradesman glanced at her curiously. "You've really lost your memory, haven't you?"
"They're huge. It's incredible that they were built at all."
"Every child in the walls takes them for granted." He bellowed a laugh. "You're worse than a child! Your mind's reverted back to a baby's."
"So it goes. Least I don't have any of your responsibilities."
Domo considered this for a moment, then smacked his head. "I'll join ya real soon. Come back when my brain's turned to mush, and they send me to one o' those hospitals for crazy people."
She smiled. "We'll have a fine time together."
They came to a fork in the road, and Domo pulled the reins hard, turning Raina down the smaller path. The horse didn't like this one bit, and she whinnied and snorted the whole trip. Ten or so minutes later, they reached a courtyard, with a marble entryway and dark oak door. Domo tied his horse near a trough, told her to shut it while rubbing her nose gently, and walked to the door. Edie followed, silently.
Above the door, she read, 'Heroes of Humanity'.
"There's a memorial to all the military men who've died on duty. A small section to the military police here, with bodies stocked in the walls.' Domo ran his hand against stone doors on wooden hinges, wrapping his knuckles on them. "But there's too many scouts to count."
The opposite door opened to an open field, littered with headstones. A gravel path led to the center, where a Rosetta stone full of names and cryptic poetry stood. The rhyming words circled the border, and the names went on, and on, and on.
"Lydia never wanted to be remembered for her family," Domo explained, "so I don't go down to her site too often." He stepped around the stone, to the back, and ran his finger down the list. He stopped halfway, on Lydia Saphro. "She made it longer than most, nearly three months in the regiment. She spent some time running surveillance, seeing where we might expand our walls. Her first mission in the forest, well…none of them stood a chance. But most of her squad made it back, too. She made sure of that."
"You should be proud, Domo." Edie knelt and put her palm against the stone. "No matter what you're fighting for, it's honorable. She did her duty."
"It wasn't her duty to fulfill," the father replied, choking. "She was fifteen."
"I know." Edie took her hand off the tomb and put it on Domo's shoulder.
"I am proud of her. But she was a stupid, stupid girl, going out there."
He stayed on the ground for ten minutes or so, then stood slowly. They joined the main road and continued.
By late afternoon, they reached the base of the Wall Sina. A small trading area had been set up, with tents and canvas tarps on the ground. Sellers sported jewelry, clothing, all sorts of food, and barrels of spice. Some sold pieces of metal, tools, and farming equipment. Despite the later hour, the area bustled with buyers and their children, milling about. Domo circled the rim, looking for his connection, and eventually turned down one of the walkways. People scurried out of his way, saying ill-mannered things about him, and creating negative energy wherever he went.
But Edie grinned at the activity and people. The adults gave her nasty looks, but the children smiled back and waved.
"It's incredible," Edie said to Domo once they stopped. "There's so many people here. I thought…I don't know, I pictured…well—"
"You thought every village would be like the mountains, eh? Well, this ain't even a real village. The lowlands have entire cities triple the size of this. But you'll see that when you visit Yalkell." He pointed at the nearest wall, which bulged in a semi-circle. "Most of these sellers come from there, and all us traders frequent the mountains. There's too many people down here, though," he grumbled. "Too many with too many opinions."
"Oh, you like people, Domo," she observed, "you just want them to like you."
"And to stop ripping me off."
She helped him unload their goods while he chatted with a seller twice both their sizes combined. The gruff man and Domo argued with cash in their hands, looking red enough to start swinging. The buyer was especially upset about Domo's last bit of dried meat, which the trader seemed inclined to keep for himself if he didn't get a good enough offer. So Edie said goodbye to Domo, told him she'd be back before the hour ended, and left to explore the market.
It was even better up close. Huge, leafy plants she'd never seen before hung from poles, and beautiful yellow flowers rested in woven baskets. She rubbed some leaves between her fingers and recognized the smell, but not the look of this specific plant. Lana had given her a bag with coins, enough for a lowlander outfit and something special, so Edie purchased two bundles of spices, knowing they'd make an excellent tea (much better than anything Domo had made, or that they had in the mountains). At another seller, she found elaborate skirts with embroidery and fancy stitching, but they were nothing needed on a farm. Another shop had clay pots and cookware, with carvings in that strange language.
Finally, she found someone with woolen skirts, shirts, and work shoes.
"The name's Katra," the seller introduced. She wore someone else's merchandise, a dark pinkish red skirt with a decorated white top. She crossed her arms and sneered at her customer. "You look like one of those mountaineers, with rags instead of proper clothing."
"Beggars can't be choosers," Edie replied smoothly. "But I'm beginning to be the latter."
"At least they teach you good manners up there." Katra shared a laugh with herself. "You've no idea how many of our Garrison members are shoddy mountain men with the same education as a mutt. They don't know how to say please and thank you, much less stay sober on duty. So, what are you looking for?"
"I'm moving to a farm here and need clothes that I can work in. Just a skirt, shirt, underclothes, and shoes should be fine. Maybe two pairs of underclothes."
"Fine, fine." Katra waved her hand and pulled out a tape measure. "But a good looking girl like you needs some evening-wear as well, even if you're going to a farm. Have you been to Lottie's stall yet? She's got skirts in navy, even. But those are expensive."
"No, I'm just getting these."
"Won't get a man in these," Katra mumbled, "just ask Lottie. But you're good looking enough to catch a fellow's eye. The men like their woman short, too, instead of looking like the mountains themselves. Did you stunt your growth on purpose?"
"Just how it happened."
"So it goes. But you don't typically see people in the lowlands with so little inches to their stature." The dressmaker frowned as she measured Edie head to toe. "Goodness. I'll need my scissors for this one. Have you been to the lowlands before?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"And you can't be older than thirty. Not stupid enough to join the scouts, but reserved enough not to jump at those mountain men. Don't you worry. While the military police value sophistication, these Garrison men like a woman to stay quietly at home. They like someone they can go home to, to rub their feet and all."
"I'm not looking to get settled."
"Sure, sure, but things happen. You can't predict who you'll meet and when." Katra wrapped the tape around Edie's waist and frowned. "Poor Lottie meant to be the finest dressmaker the walls had ever seen, with the deepest colors and highest clientele. But her third client, a noblewoman in the capital, introduced her to one of the MP captains. Now, she only comes here every other months, since she's got that baby at home and one on the way."
"What about you?"
"Oh, I swore off men ever since that awful Demorle found his mistress. We had gone steady since our schooldays, and were promised to each other during his training. But he started slinking off early after our dates, 'till I found out he was seeing someone else."
Edie pursed her lips. "That's got to be difficult."
"Not just difficult. Impossible! He fully intended to keep up his charade even after we would've married. Luckily, I had a bad feeling a followed him around after he left one night. That awful man walked the stairs to the top of Wall Sina, and I said to myself, 'perhaps he's a part of an undercover operation with the police, or meeting his squadron for drinks and comradery'. I nearly turned around, and did slow down. But there at the top, I saw him lying with the most heavenly and stupid creature you'll ever see, there in the moonlight. He'd paid the guards to clear out for six whole hours, every night, I later found out. He married that silly girl as soon as I broke off our engagement."
"How long ago did this all happen?"
"Oh, nearly five years ago. When all the ruckus was going on about the Underground. That was the undercover operation I thought he was a part of, but no, just getting his satisfaction from some frilly barmaid. He divorced her, you know, right after the birth of their first child. Hasn't married since."
"So, you've dod—you've avoided a truly awful man."
"Something or other," Katra admitted, "but there's not many men wanting to settle down. There's so much excitement in the cities, and not enough for me in the farms. I'm not good looking enough for them or rich enough. Business never took off as I'd hoped. Thought I'd get more business than Lottie, because more people need plain clothes." The seamstress turned to her table, pinning a skirt and shirt. "Look through the bins of girl's underclothes. You might find something that fits."
"Thank you. Sorry for the trouble."
"No trouble, no trouble."
"I'll pay you extra for your time, of course."
"Good manners, this one." Katra paused for a moment and met Edie's eyes. "My, you've got an air about you. I'd tell you close to anything."
Katra stitched quickly and had Edie try on her new garments. Edie handed over the rest of her coins, though the seamstress handed her back two silver ones. She changed behind a tarp and emerged in a plain white shirt, a brown skirt that stopped just at her ankles, and leather boots laced with hide. White cloth wrapped around her chest under her shirt, and she struggled to breathe for a bit. Katra said that was normal.
Back at the cart, Domo and the enormous seller had just reached an agreement, but there was someone else at the cart, knitting with a low smile. As Edie walked closer, the woman looked up, smiled, and jumped off the cart. She seemed to be fifty years old and wore similar clothes, though hers were broken in. A cloth tied back her hair, which fell to her waist in a braid. Loose hairs blew in front of her familiar, copper eyes.
"You must be Edie," she said, hugging the younger girl. "Domo's told me all about you. I'm so sorry about your accident, dear. Things must be so confusing to you."
Edie smiled. "It's been alright. People are so kind."
"Yes, and I'm glad you've met the kind ones. I know Katra's work when I see it." The woman released her grip but kept her hands on Edie's waist. "Oh, what a beautiful young woman you are. I'm Hajule, Lana's cousin. It's so good to meet you."
"You as well."
"I'll tell you this. My husband and I have quite the knack for finding lost souls, but he seems to favor all the boys who can help him around the farm. Girls don't seem to get lost so often." Hajule linked arms with her and glanced into the tent. "Domo! We'll be going now, so we reach the farm by dark."
"As it goes, as it goes." Domo fumbled up and pulled Edie into a tight, awkward hug. "You stay safe, will you? And keep up the happiness?"
"I will."
He pressed a small, wrapped package in her hand. "Found this when this oaf rummaged through our stuff. It's a family thing, and I want you to have it."
"You're a sap, Domo."
"Ain't, ain't, ain't," he argued and stormed back into the tent.
So Hajule led her new niece out of the market, still linked at the arm. "It'll be an hour's journey to the farm, but it's a smooth drive. Oh, I'm so glad you're here."