2 May 1621

We arrived at the next town today. After services everyone came for dinner and that meant I had the joy of hunting all day and then collapsing in the tent for a nap. Sigmun, like last time, came into the tent and said, "Love, you alright?"

"I'm alright."

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you for supper."

"Thanks, love."

"Any time. I love you."

"Love you too."

And he did wake me for dinner, because of all people my love is courteous. I sat with some of the other women, the same routine as last time. He spoke, I wrote, and he invited everyone back on the sixth.

People stayed back this time to talk to us, and it's still stunning to me that people walk up to me and want to talk to me. I don't have very much to offer. I'm just the writer. It's mostly women, and I get the same questions every time. First are the ones about do I really believe all this, can we change things, that sort. Then some people ask about my family, how we know each other and all that. And then some of those people ask about children, and is he really illegitimate, and then it's usually either sympathy or judgement about how I can't have children.

Mostly it's just questions about initially what trying to overthrow the government will do for people. I can handle those.

4 May 1621

I spoke with a woman from the new village today named Meriall. She's kind, and she'd lost most of her family after there was a fire in her kitchen. All she had was her youngest daughter, just a year old. I hate that I felt a moment of jealousy that she still had her daughter, because I still have my husband and my real mother and my best friend, but I didn't say anything.

"I'm so sorry," I said.

She looked down, and she had that hunch to her back like the saddest people always get, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I don't imagine I'll ever stop feeling sad."

"No," I said. "I don't think it tends to go away."

"And you'd know?" She sounded skeptical.

"I lost my only child. He was fourteen months."

"I'm so sorry."

"Me too. It was two and a half years ago, almost to the day."

"I gather it doesn't get easier."

I shook my head. "I wish it did."

"I don't know how I made it out alive. I don't know how I lived."

"What matters is that you did."

She was holding her daughter close to her, like she was afraid. "I wish it was so easy."

"What's your daughter's name?"

"Lucy."

"Can I hold her?" I know it's ridiculous but I always have this urge to protect and love every child I find. Obviously this one had someone to love her, but I still wanted to hold her.

"Go ahead. Be careful with the neck."

"I know."

Her little one was asleep so she didn't fuss when I held her. "She's precious."

"She is."

There was a silence, and then I said, "Do you want to talk about your family?"

She nodded. "I had two sons. They were seven and three. I had a daughter who would've been five, but she was stillborn. They were asleep in the attic…I tried to save them but my husband dragged me out of the house and said he'd save them. So I grabbed my daughter and ran. And…they got the fire out before it spread, the well was just enough…but all the smoke in their bodies…they died. And then they burned. My two boys, they were so strong…always helping out around the farm. John, the older one, he did more than he had to, always at my side asking what else he could do…" She sighed and held out her arms for her daughter. As I passed her over, the little one woke up and set up a good cry.

"Hush, little one," Meriall said. "Hush now."

It was late and she was staying with us so we said goodnight and she headed to her tent.

5 May 1621

There was a man who I spoke with today, which is somewhat rarer. Men seem to prefer talking to Simonn, or Sigmun if they're illegitimate. I suppose people prefer talking to people who know how they feel. But this man sat and talked to me.

"Hello."

"Hello. I'm Philip. And you?"

"Just call me Dee."

"Alright. I must ask, you write?"

"I read, too."

"Impressive."

"Thank you."

"Where did you learn?"

"My mother-in-law. She taught my husband and our best friend and I how to read and write when we were children."

"My goodness, you should be going to university!"

I almost laughed. "If only. What about you?"

"My father was teaching me to read and write, but he passed away about a year ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Philip."

He nodded.

"May I ask why you're talking to me?"

"I'm curious."

"Why?"

"I've never met a woman before who reads and writes."

"Well, I had excellent luck growing up."

"You must have."

I smiled a little. "I did."

We talked a little about reading and writing, and about hunting because he hunts for his family apparently, and then he headed home and I stayed to talk with other people.

6 May 1621

Another speech today. Once again, this one was more about equality for all people, and people had varying reactions, many of which I encountered after he was done. Reactions ranged from elation to terror to fury to excitement. I sound very detached writing it that way but I'm just very tired. I ought to get some sleep.

7 May 1621

I talked with a woman named Florence today when it was late. Simonn had even gone to bed but I was feeling on-edge and tense, and I couldn't sleep.

"You're up late," she said.

"I can't sleep," I said.

"Neither can I ," she said.

"What's your name?"

"Florence. And you?"

"Call me Dee." I really need a better name than that.

"Are you with them?" She nodded towards our tent.

"Yes. They're my dearest friends."

"How long have you been traveling?"

"Only a month or so."

She nodded.

"Why are you staying here?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I don't imagine you'd let me stay if I told you."

"I don't mind if it's something private you don't want to tell, but I'd never judge you, or make you leave."

She sighed and looked at her hands. She was very pale, or perhaps that was the moonlight. She was doing that nervous thing I see people do, her fingers refusing to sit still. "I'm a prostitute."

"Alright."

She looked up. "Alright?"

"It's your life," I said. I'm in no position to judge her. She might've fallen on hard times, been tricked, made a mistake, decided this was just her way to make money. It's not my place.

"What about you? Why are you here?"

"My family's always had some fairly radical ideas. I grew up believing I was just as smart as my two dearest friends, who are both men. And…this just grew naturally from our upbringing."

"Huh."

"Indeed."

She rubbed at her eyes. "I should sleep."

"And yet you can't?"

She nodded.

"I understand. I have nightmares."

She shook her head and looked up. She struck me as very lonely.

I threw another log on the fire. "I can stay up with you if you like. Unless my husband-Signless-wakes up, I won't be sleeping much either."

"If he wakes up?"

"He'll notice I'm not there and come looking. He does that."

"Ah." Pause, then (of course), "Where are your children?"

"I can't have them." It gets easier to say every time, but more detached-sounding. "I had a baby boy named Luke, but he passed when he was fourteen months. Two and a half years ago to the day."

"Oh," she said. "Want to trade?"

"If only," I said, trying for a smile.

Another pause, and then I said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It?"

"Anything."

She sighed again and crossed her arms. "I suppose I just wish I'd never made such a stupid choice."

I didn't say anything, because I didn't expect she wanted me to respond.

"I could've done laundry. Been a seamstress. Planted a garden. I didn't want to get married but…maybe this wasn't the path to go. Maybe…I don't know." She hid her face in her hands.

"There's always time," I said. "If you want to find a new job."

She laughed sarcastically. "I don't have another chance at this point. It's too late for me."

"It's not too late."

"I wish that was true."

"It's not too hard to be a seamstress. I used to sew buttonholes."

"No one would hire me. And if I tried to collect laundry people would think I was lying."

"I'm so sorry. I wish we could help you."

She crossed her arms tighter and said, "Thanks."

We didn't say much for a while, and then she said, "Could I possibly come with you?"

"Pardon?"

"The only thing here for me is my family's graves. Could I come with you all?"

"I don't know. We don't have many supplies, and the heir to the throne knows who we are. It's dangerous."

"I don't mean forever. Just to the next village. I could find something there."

"Oh. I'm sure you could. We'll be in the next village by the Sunday after next, the sixteenth. They always need someone else to do the laundry or sew the buttonholes."

"I hope it's not buttonholes."

I almost laughed. "I'm sure there'll be something else. The midwife always needs an apprentice."

She nodded vaguely. "Midwives are the only reason this stupid world keeps going."

"My mother-in-law would love to hear that. She's our midwife." I imagine she must've trained someone as her apprentice for while we're away. "Or, she was, I suppose."

She nodded and we sat there in silence until I saw the sun peeking over the horizon and I went out hunting for breakfast.

Speaking of, it's exhausting feeding so many people. I might teach Simonn how to hunt so I can spend some time on my translations and, frankly, on rest.

9 May 1621

Everyone came again for dinner after services, but this time people brought some of their own food. I know it's selfish of me to be glad-we all have so little-but I can't feed a whole village on my own. My love spoke again, and I'm so glad to see that people are somewhat receptive. Certainly there are many-especially legitimate-born men with light skin-who don't like it so much, and the town priests seem to not always like the competition, but the way he says it…he could convince anyone of anything, I think.

The other problem is when a man with dark skin doesn't like that women should be treated the same, too, or a woman with light skin dislikes that people with dark skin should be treated the same, and so on. How could someone want to be treated fairly themselves and not see that others want the exact same thing? I'm as fair-skinned as they come (well, except for Neolla and her Irish ancestors) and while I can't imagine what it's like to have darker skin, I know what it's like to be treated unfairly as a woman and I wouldn't subject anybody else to that.

I talked with Meriall again, and Philip. I also introduced Florence to my family.

"Everyone, this is Florence. She'll come with us to the next village."

My family introduced themselves and we talked some, and it seems everyone gets along, so that's good. I thought I should introduce her before we all went traveling together.

Today was his last speech. We'll move on soon, probably the thirteenth, and before then we'll do everything we can to help out the village.

11 May 1621

Sigmun and I went into the woods last night and now we have to do laundry, because there's dirt all over my clothes, and his too. I don't know what I was expecting. He was exhausted, because he doesn't hunt for a village every Sunday and doesn't have practice with exertion like I do, so I helped him back to the tent and I slept well too.

In retrospect, my wedding night wasn't good at all. In retrospect, it was kind of terrible. Not in a painful way, but it certainly wasn't any good. I just didn't have anything to go on.

Oh well. Experience is the best teacher.

13 May 1621

We left today and Florence came with us. She seemed nervous about traveling, which I can understand, so I walked with her. I could see Sigmun watching, like he wanted to ask more, but I think he knew that she didn't want to talk, and certainly not about the reasons she was leaving her village.

We made camp when it got dark and I went hunting while Simonn started the fire and Dolora and Sigmun pitched the tents, like we always do, except Florence had her own tent (because heaven knows I only feel safe surrounded by my family, and I think they're the same way, so we all sleep in one tent).

I feel like by doing this we've lost what little privacy we had, because now other people will want to travel, and we won't have time to be alone. I know it's selfish of me to think that way, but I still want to spend time with my family. I love them more than I can say. And I don't like our other names as much. I can't call my love Sigmun, and I can't call my best friend Simonn, and I can't call my real mother Dolora, like I have my entire life. Instead I have to call them Signless and Psiioniic and Dolorosa.

I still don't have a name. My family's just calling me "love", "dear", or, in Simonn's case, just addressing me without using my name.

14 May 1621

I feel terrible. I messed up today, when I woke up and went to see if anyone had lit the fire for breakfast yet. I was awake at dawn and Simonn was shaving and Dolora was brushing her hair so I dressed and left the tent (I've given up on my hair) and went to have breakfast.

I sat next to the fire and Sigmun was sitting there stirring the stew, not looking at much of anything. "Morning, love."

"Morning," he said.

"Are you tired?" He's a morning person.

"A little. I had a dream."

"One of the future-dreams?"

He nodded.

"Tell me about it?"

"It was…strange. I didn't want to tell you about it when I woke up…I thought it might scare you."

"Why?"

"I dreamed that…well, it was cold. The ground was all marshy and damp, so I suppose it must've rained. We were outside, the three of us, and I knew…I knew we were waiting for the bus. Whatever that means. Suddenly, out of nowhere, it was thunderstorming. I wasn't under this…sort of a tent made out of glass, we just called it a shelter. Anyways, I wasn't under it, and the rain was so heavy I couldn't really find my way back. I thought I heard someone-something, it wasn't human-screeching, and when I turned something huge hit me all at once and I heard you scream, and…I don't know what happened after that, I woke up."

"My goodness."

"I know."

"Well, it's not so bad. Not compared to some of the other ones."

"No, not at all. I suppose it seemed frightening enough to make you nervous and I wasn't frightened enough to wake you."

"Frankly, Simonn's dreams scare me a lot more than yours, love."

He almost laughed. "Indeed."

I looked up and saw Florence sitting across the fire from us. She looked a little embarrassed, I suppose because it was a sort of private conversation.

"Good morning," I said.

"You too." Then, after a pause, she said, "Simonn. Is that Psiioniic?"

I was completely ready to lie, because that's my gut reaction to situations like this, but Sigmun said, "It is. Please don't tell anybody."

"I won't. I didn't imagine you were actually named Signless."

He nodded.

"Why do you go by Dee?" she asked me.

"I haven't picked a name yet."

"What's the significance of Dee, then?"

"It's the first letter of my name."

She nodded.

"Soup's on," Sigmun said, ladeling some out into five bowls. Simonn joined us and I caught his eye, and I knew he'd heard. Dolora joined a moment later, impeccably dressed as ever (I don't know how she does it, but I have a feeling about why). We ate in silence before breaking camp and leaving for the day.

I know it's terribly selfish, but I do miss home. It's only been a month but I miss my home.

16 May 1621

He spoke today, like usual. Unfortunately afterwards there was a man who talked to me.

"Hello."

"Hello," I said.

"I'm George Smith. You are?"

"Call me Dee. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too. Can I ask you a few questions? About what he talks about?"

"Of course."

"Can we go somewhere quieter? I can hardly hear you."

"Sure. It's always quieter by the firepit."

I stayed standing, because I always feel nervous sitting when talking with strange men (Dolora tells me to trust my gut, because we are afraid for a reason, so I do), and said, "So you were saying?"

"If the government were too be changed, how would any sort of social services be funded?"

"We'd have to have taxes. But since everyone would benefit, we think it would work out."

He asked a couple more questions, and then he asked, "Are you married?"

"Yes. To Signless."

"How long?"

"Five years this June."

"How would you feel about being with another man?"

I didn't realize it until after I'd done it but I took a step back. "No."

"He wouldn't have to know."

"I said no."

"Awfully stubborn, aren't you?"

"Are you married, Mr. Smith?"

"Yes."

"Then you made a promise to your wife, as I made a promise to my husband. Besides that I would never imagine being unfaithful to my husband, because I love him, you made a promise to your wife. And I prefer men of their word." I turned around and walked away, feeling a little let down. I hoped he'd taken a genuine interest in the movement, and maybe he has, but…

Oh well. I suppose I knew this would happen. Indeed, there's no reason to believe the same hasn't happened to my family.

18 May 1621

I look back at my younger self, when I was first writing in a journal, and all I feel is embarrassment. I was so judgemental and so confused, and so young. I thought some truly nasty things about the other girls in the village. I imagine I felt so awful about myself I thought being better than someone else would make me feel better, but I know now it didn't help at all. The only thing that made me feel better about myself was leaving my mother.

And then of course there's all that happened between Sigmun and me before we knew we had feelings for each other. I can hardly bear to think about it. It's humiliating. I don't even want to rehash it now, it's too much.

Either way, I wasn't feeling good today, so I rested in our tent. Dolora gave me some herbs to mix in the St. John's Wort (I take it every day, it works very well) and stern orders to rest. I didn't want to but Dolora worries we're too stressed from traveling and I don't want to worry her more.

19 May 1621

Simonn and I sat around the fire last night like we do, when everyone's asleep and we tell each other things we can't tell anyone else. I feel awful keeping secrets from Sigmun-he's my husband and my love-but I just don't think Simonn or I could tell Sigmun about how Simonn thinks this will turn out.

"You said my dreams scared you more than his."

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"I didn't want to scare you when I told you."

"Simonn, it's fine. I can handle being scared."

"What does he know about my dreams?"

"He doesn't know about the one you have every April."

He nods. "Good."

"Why?"

"I think that one's bad for him. I think something bad is going to happen to him. Well, to all of us, but…heavens, that scream…" He shivered and crossed his arms. "It's coming."

"What?"

"Whatever happens in that dream, it's coming soon."

"How soon?"

"I don't know. Sooner than it should. But that's always been true."

"I'm scared," I admit to him.

"Me too," he says. Then, "Don't tell him."

"Of course not." A silence passed, and I asked, "Do you ever feel guilty, keeping secrets from him?"

He shrugged. "I should. He's our best friend. But I know it would only make him obsess over a way to save us. And it'd get us nowhere. It's better that he doesn't know."

"We're all going to die."

"The only universal symptom of the human condition is death."

"What a way to say 'everybody dies'."

He shrugged.

"Well, that's not now. We're alive now, and we have a job to do."

"Is that how you cope with it?"

"Pardon?"

"Is that how you deal with knowing that we're all going to die too soon, and it will be painful?"

"If I learned one thing from my childhood, it's that happiness is never useless, and even if you're surrounded pain there is joy to be found. We're going to die painfully; I know that, and it scares me. But we're alive and together now, and to me, that's what counts." I paused. "So, yeah. How I cope."

"You're doing better than me. I just lie awake at night and try to breathe."

"That's not too bad. Look, it's better than self-destructing. Which is what you know he would do."

"By which you mean…?"

"He'd run himself into the ground trying to protect us. You and me, we can handle this. Apparently. You know he'd go mad with worry."

"So would she."

I knew he meant Dolora and I nodded. "I feel terrible keeping secrets from them."

He shrugged. "I know if they knew…well, he would tear the world to pieces trying to stop it. And she wouldn't act it but she'd be torn up inside-too much to go on."

"Why'd you tell me?"

"You asked. And…I can handle it because I have my whole life. I figured…with your mother and everything…you knew how it feels to think you might die."

I nodded. "Fair enough."

"Don't tell them. Please. If they can be happy…"

"I won't. I want them to be happy, too."

He nodded and we went to bed.

I'll never be able to go back, in my head. I'll never go back to telling my love everything, and I'll never stop keeping this secret from him. If we win, the dream will still be there. No matter what happens, it'll be there. And I can never tell him.

21 May 1621

I asked Sigmun if women have ever approached him like George Smith did me.

"Yes, why?"

"Just curious."

"I turned her down. I'd never be unfaithful to you."

"I know that. I trust you. It's just that this man tried to win me over…I don't know." I sighed and looked left-I know it's a habit I picked up from Dolora. "I love you."

"I love you too."

There was a pause, and then he said, "Do you want to go into the forest?"

"I'm tired tonight, love…"

"Alright. Let's get some rest, then." He kissed me, soft and sweet like he does, and we went to bed. And I felt safe in his arms when we slept.

23 May 1621

Another speech today. I talked with a woman called Em afterwards, and I really liked her. She was interested to talk to me about this odd notion of fairness and equality we have. I told her I dreamed sometimes about going to university.

"When I was a child I used to pretend all the time I could go someday."

"If only."

"What would you study, if you could?"

"The natural sciences. Chemistry, I think."

"Do you read and write?"

"A little."

"I could teach you if you like."

"Don't you have other jobs? With them?"

"My job is to write down what he says and translate it. I'd love to show you how to write."

She smiled a little more and then said, "Sure."

So I spent the rest of the night showing her some more letters, and words of course. It felt so warm and comfortable, like when I was a child and the three of us were first learning to read. I did like Em. She's twenty, so not much younger than me. I hope she takes this all to heart.

26 May 1621

We moved on today, but I started writing letters to the towns we left behind. We'll keep them updated on plans and progress, and ask for news. In my other book I'm keeping record of all correspondence, even the names of people in any given town. We'll slowly introduce the idea of marching to the city, gathering people together to demand change. The royal family has their army but they don't number near as many as the sheer masses of people who want different, better.

Sigmun doesn't like the idea but Simonn and I plan to go back to villages we visited to reconnect with people, so we stay connected. I believe with all my heart that the key to making a change is to keep those connections alive. Sigmun worries whenever we're out of his sight, but I assured him I'd write every day and I could defend myself. He still doesn't know about my breadknife, or Simonn's butcher knife. But I won't go traveling without said knife tucked under my skirts.

28 May 1621

We arrived in the village today, but no speech, not even a dinner. I was grateful and went to bed before the sun set, because I spend a lot of my time translating on our trips and don't get enough sleep. I could tell Sigmun was worried, and I woke up when he came into the tent around sunset and said, "Love?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't push yourself too much, love. Okay?"

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You don't have to prove yourself, to me or to anyone. You know you mean the world to me, and I love you."

"I love you, too. Let me sleep," I said.

"Alright, love."

I heard rustling as he changed and washed his face. I heard the sounds of the fire, and of clicking needles, and gathered that Simonn was probably reading to calm his nerves, and Dolora was knitting.

I felt Sigmun lie down next to me and rolled over to rest my head on his chest. "I love you," I said. "I love you so much I could never even hope to tell you-"

"Then don't," he said, kissing the top of my head. "Because I love you more."

And so we slept.

30 May 1621

He spoke today, to this new village. As usual it went pretty well-everyone likes the idea of no longer being afraid of the monarchy, of getting aid when they need it, of having a say in the laws by which they live. As usual I talked with a few women afterwards whose worlds are not safe, often because of the men in their lives. I wish I could stay longer; I love to be social and make friends (though I imagine I don't always come off that way).

I'll see them again when I come back.

I'll definitely be back.