1 March 1621
It's never occurred to me how incredibly lucky I am that I grew up seeing myself equal to men. And not just that: I am married to a man who has never hit me, never even tried to force me into bed, never touched me without my consent, never demanded anything of me, never thought I was too smart or too independent, who thinks of me as an equal. I am very lucky to have that and it's incredible to think that mine is a one-in-a-million marriage.
I'm thinking of this because Mariek stormed in unannounced today, slammed the door behind her, and said, "Don't let a tall man with brown hair and eyes in. Especially if he asks for someone called Mary."
"Mariek? What happened?" I asked.
"Take a guess!" she snapped. "That bastard I'm supposed to marry attacked me! Again! I'm sick to death of him and there is no way in hell I'm going to marry that fuckface!" (I quote directly.) She sounded beyond angry as she threw her ring across the room. I guess she's really done with that engagement. I didn't know she was engaged, so this was all news to me.
"Take a breath, Mariek. Tea?"
"Yeah, I'll have a cup. Seen Neolla anywhere?"
"She's probably at work, being Nelson," I said, pouring a cup of tea for myself and one for Mariek. I brought them both to the table and sat down next to her. "So, what happened?"
She took a sip before continuing. "Mint? It's great."
"Thanks. It's Dolora's."
"Hm," Mariek took another sip and said, "I was just sitting at home, trying to make dinner, and you know I can't cook for my life. And my aunt just goes, 'Mary? Your fiancé is here.' So I go, 'Aunt Katherine, I am busy.' And she goes, 'Right here, right now, or I'll slap you.' I'm twenty-five damn years old! So I went there and he's standing there, all menacing and angry like he gets. And he's obviously had a few, right? More than a few. So I'm thinking it's going to be a nice damn family time, but suddenly my aunt just goes, 'I'll leave you two alone. I'm going to the village for errands.' We aren't even married yet! Like I give a damn about marriage, but my aunt sure does.
"So anyways, she leaves and I'm stuck with him and he tries for small talk and fails, and he keeps calling me Mary. So then he tries to kiss me and I push him off cos there is no way in hell I want to kiss this, what, forty-five-year-old man? And then, he literally grabs my hair and tries to push me onto the couch and he's so clearly drunk out of his skull, so I kick him in the crotch and run for it. My aunt's going to kill me."
"Oh, that's horrible," I said as sympathetically as I could.
"It was awful," Mariek said. "That man is a sick, sick person."
"Wait-Mary?"
"Oh yeah. He thinks my name is Mary. That way, if he tries to marry me, he won't have my real name and he won't be able to!"
"That is clever," I said admiringly. Mariek's very clever and good at planning things like that.
"Yeah, thanks. One of these days I'm just gonna pack all my stuff and go."
"You could, you know," I said. "I don't want to say I'm encouraging you to run away, but—"
"Hell, I'd leave in a second if I had the money," she said.
"Didn't your mother leave you a lot of money? And you could sell that ring."
"Wait-damn, you're right," Mariek said. "You can expect me back here tomorrow when I've got my own place. Do you have more of that mint tea?"
"Of course. Want to take some?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll need something to make my house feel like home." She seemed exhausted. "Thanks for the help, Dianna. See you soon."
"See you."
Mariek left and I have a feeling she means it. She deserves better than that. I mean, all of us do. None of my friends, not even the meanest girls in the village, could ever deserve a man like that. I'm sure some marriages turn out alright, or the two even fall in love, but so many women end up in miserable marriages that it no longer surprises me when something like this happens. I don't know what that says about marriage and I don't know what it says about men and I don't know what it says about women. But I think it's sad that my marriage, my happy and equal and loving marriage, is a rarity. It's sad and wrong and awful and I wish it could be any other way. I wish Mariek could marry a man who loves her (or a woman of course) and I wish Neolla could just be a lawyer not named Nelson. I wish Hannah could marry Simonn without him or her being accused of witchcraft and I wish Candas could be heir to throne without fighting for it. I wish Dolora could've married Rose because she loved her and I wish I didn't have to defend my marriage to an illegitimate man every time it comes up. (And it seems to come up an awful lot.)
4 March 1621
Mariek came over again today and she seemed pretty smug and she told us she had her own house and she told that man she was never going to marry him, not in a million years.
"Good for you!"
"Thanks, Di."
"I have a full three syllables in my name…Mary."
"Shut up. You don't mind when your lover calls you names."
"He's not my lover!"
"Right."
"He's my husband. You're just messing with my head."
"Guilty as charged," Mariek said with a crooked sort of smile. "I won't press for details."
"MARIEK!"
"Oh, come on. You know as well as I do that it's all utter nonsense, all this stigma and secrecy around-"
Of course Sigmun chose that moment to come home and kiss me hello. Mariek raised her eyebrows at me and I glared back.
8 March 1621
My husband is just the silliest man sometimes. We saw Twelfth Night last night-all four of us-and once we were home, when I was brushing my hair, Sigmun stood right behind me and rested his hands on his shoulders and said, "You know, love, some are born great. Some achieve greatness. And some have greatness…thrust upon them."
"You have the dirtiest mouth of any man in the kingdom," I said, but he could see in the mirror I was smiling.
"Would you like to test that theory?"
"Your mind is in the gutter."
"Up to you, love."
"Let me finish brushing my hair."
"You know I'll just mess it up again."
"I know. But you know I like it just fine that way."
"Alright, love." He kissed my cheek and I finished brushing my hair.
9 March 1621
I feel terrible writing this, but it's something that's been bothering me for a while. Some mornings when I wake up and I'm with Sigmun, all I can see is forgetful and brash and optimistic to the point of stupidity. I remember how he always forgets his share of the chores, and how he snores, and how he gets up early and tries to be all cheerful with me, and I just get so annoyed! But some mornings I see a sort of sweet absentmindedness, bravery, faith in humanity. I remember how he's always there for me and how he'll always remember his chores in the end and how he can be just the sweetest man on Earth and how he really is very handsome, and then I remember how much I love him. It worries me that sometimes I think more about being irritated or upset with him than that I do love him.
I think loving him, as my best friend and as my husband, is more important than the times I'm annoyed with him.
13 March 1621
I love spending time with Dolora. Today, she and I were home first, so we sat at the table with that mint tea everyone loves and just talked about things.
"Do you remember when you taught me how to write?"
"Oh, that was hilarious!"
"I just remember getting ink all over my hands and the table. And for all that, I got one measly letter a!"
"You know, it took me almost a year to learn to write."
"A year?"
"Well, I was much older, too. I was about twelve. You see, my friend Margaret—we called her Maggie—she taught me how to write. She taught all of us how to write, even though Sybil said it was silly. Rebecca wrote endless love letters, and Miriam wrote poetry, and Maggie wrote in a diary of hers. I just wrote whatever I could, stories and poems and letters I never sent and even things like restaurant menus. I was obsessed with writing for months!
"And then I met Juliana! Juliana was the prettiest girl I'd ever met. She had this perfectly curled blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and on top of that she was tall and statuesque. I had such a crush on her! You know how it is: you notice everything about them, you can't stop thinking about them, all that. But of course she loved men, and she was sixteen when I was twelve. I dreamed up all these elaborate schemes to tell her how I felt about her, but in the end I never pulled any of them off. Rebecca thought I was mad.
"Oh, but even more elaborate were my schemes to get into a real school, or the library! I was dead-set on going to school, no matter what. Of course, my parents didn't approve. But my aunt Matilda, she was as determined as I was that I was going to school. The city had three schools then: the Catholic school, named after Pope Paul; the Calvinist school, called of course Calvin; and the secular school, Robertson's. None of them would let me in because I was a woman, so Aunt Matilda just made up her mind that I was going to go this boarding school in the city, even though I was from the city. My family had this house, where my Uncle George and Aunt Geraldine lived, and she told the school I lived there. I was ten when she got me in. I spent all my time with other girls who were like me and I loved it! It was Maggie and Rebecca and Miriam and Sybil and Rose and I. Everyone knew us.
"On the weekends, we'd explore the city all day. We'd sit in the libraries and read for hours, or sneak into the museum-do you know what a museum is?"
"I do. They're in the books, and I saw them in the city."
"Right, of course. Anyways, we'd sneak into the museum and spend all day hiding from the men there. Rebecca always snuck out to see men she said she'd love forever. None of them lasted more than a month or two. I think she had at least three different Williams. I never understood her loves and it took me ages to realize it was because I didn't love men at all! Of course, that was around when Rose asked us if we knew about women kissing other women. And it hit me that my love was directed at women! All because Rose asked about that…
"I told Rose I loved her when I was…hm…sixteen, it must've been, because it was around the time Ellen-my second-oldest sister-got married. I had guessed that she'd reciprocate and I was right. Rose was much braver than I, though. I always tried to look out for all of us, because we were troublemakers. I was probably the only one who didn't get sent to the headmistress every week! Then again, I was probably also the cleverest about covering my tracks. My teachers all trusted me. I don't know why; they really shouldn't have." Dolora laughed and I knew she was remembering a time when her life was simpler and happier and less weighty.
"Do you remember all those years ago when Sigmun first told you he loved you?"
"Of course I do! That was when my mother had me stuck inside. He snuck out in the middle of the night to bring me that letter he wrote."
"You should've seen him at home! He spent an entire day just biting his nails and he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. And then, the very next day, he was absolutely dancing on air! It was the funniest thing I'd ever seen! You know he left that letter you wrote him on the table? And he thought I didn't notice!" She laughed and took a sip of tea.
I laughed, too. "I loved those letters. I'm sure I still have them somewhere."
"Oh, I'm sure he does. He thought I never knew he was leaving the house late at night!"
"Really?"
"Really. He left letters all over the house and then he'd try to hide them, it was so funny!"
Both of us were still laughing over our cups of tea when Sigmun walked in and slammed the door. "I am not cooking tonight," he said. I think that was reasonable, because he was covered with manure. "What's so funny?"
"It's just-" I said, laughing.
"What?"
"Never mind that," Dolora said. "I'll make dinner tonight; I haven't in a week or so."
"Thanks," Sigmun said gratefully. "I'm going to go clean up." My poor husband; what a miserable job he's ended up with. At least sewing buttonholes isn't dangerous, or smelly.
16 March 1621
Sigmun came home today from work with manure all over his clothes again and he marched up to our room (where I was napping), stripped off his clothes like they'd done him some great personal wrong, and collapsed on our bed.
I woke up because my love let out this sort of groan, like he was in great pain, and I said, "Love, what's wrong?"
"Well, for a start, I quit."
"That sounds like a good thing."
"It is. But I'm just very tired."
"Of course you are! Working in a stable is a hard job." I reached out to fluff his hair, because normally he likes when I do that, and he leaned a little to my touch.
"No, I mean I'm tired of going through jobs like this. I know I'm not a very good stablehand but I was fine at making shoes and selling grain…I'm just very tired of it all."
"It's alright, love," I said, still playing with his hair. "You're brilliant. It's just that other people can't see it."
He shrugged.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked, because he still wasn't wearing anything.
He shrugged again. "I'm just going to nap until dinner." He looked up at me and said, "Stay with me?"
"Of course, my love." I held him to my chest and he dozed off, snoring slightly, but I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about how people won't hire an illegitimate man even if he's good at his job and how the only job I'm allowed is sewing buttonholes and how Dolora spends half her time accused of witchcraft and how I hear Simonn pacing late at night and all these terrible things everyone knows but no one talks about.
Sometimes I think I have no choice but to leave.
21 March 1621
Sigmun and I were getting ready for bed and I was in the middle of washing my face when he said, "Do you think when-if-we leave, we could do speeches at festivals? People might listen."
I coughed on some water I breathed in from surprise. "That would be dangerous!"
"Why?"
"The guards would be there, or the local nobles." I hate thinking about the guards. I always remember March in 1614 and I get that awful shiver up my spine. The idea of just leaving home and talking to people didn't make me as nervous as the idea of leaving home to talk in front of crowds, including people who have the power to hurt my family. Somehow him saying that made it so much more real and I was so much more scared, right on the edge of saying no for good.
"Well, they might listen."
I was feeling frustrated and I hate how he has such faith in people because I know people aren't that good and I'm so afraid of losing them and so I snapped. "Sigmun, you can't!"
"Why can't I?"
"You'd be putting us all in danger! Do you realize what could happen if we're caught?"
"Do you realize what could happen if we don't do anything? We can't just let things stay! We can't keep following the rules!"
"The only reason I am alive is because I know the rules! Sigmun, I got away from my mother because I played by and around her rules! You and I have jobs because we know the rules and we play by them! You know what happens when people break the rules! Look at Hannah and Simonn! Look at Dolora! Look at you!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Your blood parents broke the rules and look where that landed you!"
"In the best childhood I could've had!"
"Abandoned on a street corner! The only way we can survive is by knowing the rules and playing by them! You've seen the executions! It's the only way we can survive!"
"But it's not the only way we can live!"
"You're putting us all in danger!"
"You think I don't know that? But we can't just let things stay this way. We can't let all these children grow up thinking this is right! If we can change something, why shouldn't we? It kills me to put you all in danger. But what else can we do? Just let this all be?"
"Yes!"
"Dianna, you know better than me what it's like! And it can't stay that way!"
"Maybe you're right. What if we get caught?"
"Then we die."
"And you're willing to do that for some crazy dream?"
"I'll risk it. But I won't make you. If you don't want to, I won't make you. But I can't do this on my own. You know that."
"I'll think about it."
"Thank you. Thank you so much…" He threw his arms around me and kissed me all over my face like he hadn't seen me in fourteen years.
"I didn't even say I would."
"Thinking about it is better than I hoped for."
"Goodnight, then."
"Goodnight, my love."
I'm going to say yes, I think. I want the world to change. I want to change the world, to make it a safe place for everyone. I just…I don't know what to think about this. It's what I've always wanted. But I'm afraid. I'm so afraid to lose them, when they're all I ever had. I don't know how I can live myself if I don't. I won't live long if I do.
I'll say yes. I'll change the world with my best friends. I'll going to hell in a handbasket and I don't care.
23 March 1621
I told him yes today. I'm terrified and the idea of talking in front of a crowd makes my stomach churn and I'm afraid of the guards and of losing my family but there's so many things wrong with the world and I can't just let it all go.
"I'll go with you, love."
"To talk to people? Change things?"
I nodded. "My life in your hands."
"No, no, I never meant…"
"Sigmun, you've always held my life in your hands. You all hold my life in your hands. Nothing has changed. It's just a bit more literal." I gave them my heart a very long time ago.
"Love, I couldn't live with myself if I let you get hurt."
"Neither could I. That's why we're going together."
He kissed the tip of my nose, soft and affectionate. "With the four of us, what could go wrong?"
I didn't say anything, and I didn't say everything.
26 March 1621
Simonn must've had one of his nightmares last night because I had one and when I went downstairs to get some tea and he was there.
"Hello."
"Morning," Simonn said. "You told Sigmun you're going with him."
"I did."
"Why?"
"If we can change things and make the world better for every child born after us-for our children-why shouldn't we?"
"I don't want to risk your lives. I'm the only one of us with children. It would be selfish to put all of you at risk for my daughter."
"I think we've established that Sigmun and I want children."
"I know. But right now I'm the only one with a direct investment in this and I don't want to be selfish by risking you when you still have things you want to do with your life."
"And you don't?"
He snorted. "Sure, I want to do things. But I can't do any of them. I can't go to university, or marry Hannah, or take care of my daughter. You have things to do with your life."
"I'm leaving of my own volition, whether you come or not."
He sighed and looked at his tea, his shoulders slumped. "Don't tell him."
"I won't."
"But I don't think we can win."
"What do you mean?"
"There's a reason they hold power. There's a reason we've never had a truly successfully revolution. I don't think we can win."
"That's pessimistic!"
"It's realistic. You're awfully optimistic."
"Well, you can go be realistic all you want, but there's a reason realists never change the world. You should leave that to the optimists."
"Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't come!"
"On a futile mission?"
"I don't think we can win. I never said I thought it was futile!"
"How does guaranteed loss not equal futility?"
"We'll lose. But we might pave the way for the next bunch of dreamers-the next one like him. Whoever they are, they'll have their own more realistic friends, and they'll have their own plan. But maybe they'll have seen ours talking-you've seen him speak when he cares-or they'll have heard of him, and they'll have a road to take. Maybe to victory, whatever that means."
I nodded thoughtfully. "I still think it's worth a shot. If you think we'll fail we can't just give half our effort. My whole heart's in this if yours are."
"I'll give all my effort. And don't tell him."
"No, of course not," I said without thinking. I've never kept anything from my love before, and as I said it I realized I'd crossed some line in my head and I couldn't go back. "Simonn…heavens. I'm scared."
He nodded. "Me too."
We sat in silence for a while, and then our tea was cold and before we went up to bed he hugged me tight. I had to stand on my toes like I do when I hug him but there was something comforting about his bony arms and scratchy chin, different from Sigmun but still safe in its warmth.
"I love you," Simonn said.
"I love you too," I promised, and I meant it.
28 March 1621
We picked out names today. Or, they did at least. I mean, we can't go by our real names. We'd get our village burned to the ground. So we decided to just pick some code names, as it seems everyone's on board.
Dolora was first. She sat in silence for a little bit while we were eating dinner and then she said, "I suppose Dolorosa."
"That's so close to your real name!" Sigmun said.
"Which is exactly why no one would guess it," Dolora said. "My name is not a common one. I was named after my grandmother, and she was from Spain, so us English-speakers don't use it often. I think it's a safe choice." She paused and took another spoonful of soup. "Anyways, it means 'mother'." I have a hunch it means more, but I've been slacking on my Latin lately.
"Signless," Sigmun said thoughtfully, poking his bowl with the spoon. "Because I can't carry my family's crest. So I'm signless."
"Makes sense," Simonn said. "I was thinking Psionic. Which double i's."
"Like your double n's?" I asked.
"Yours too."
"Anyways, why?"
"Well, it's to do with having a powerful mind. And I don't exactly have a powerful body; my mind's all I've got." He tapped his head. "Anyways, I have a feeling those future-dreams count as sort-of psychic. What're you gonna be, Deedee?"
I made a face at him because we are much too old for nicknames but I didn't know.
"I don't know."
"Well, pick something," Simonn said.
"Just give me some time, I'll come up with something."
"Alright, if you say so," Sigmun said. "We should talk to Hannah and Neolla and Mariek and Sumner and all them. Just in case."
"We'll have them over for tea tomorrow," Dolora said. "We can all talk and plan more then. Find them tomorrow in the village, alright, my dears?"
"Alright, Mama," Sigmun said, and Simonn and I nodded. It's really starting now.
There's no going back now.