2 July 1621

It's been a long day of travel. We packed light, deciding a tent was unnecessary, and right now he's asleep in his bedroll next to the dying embers and I'm awake with my breadknife on my lap. (It's serrated so it would hurt someone with less effort-I don't want to accidentally do more than make an attacker bleed.) I don't feel as safe as I do in the tent with my family around me, and not having a tent's protection makes me nervous. But I have my breadknife with me, and Simonn's quick as a fox, so I think we could fight off just about anything.

I'm still sleeping with my head by his feet, though. That way if anybody does attack us there'll be one of us facing each way.

Just in case.

4 July 1621

Well, we're still alive. Another half day's walk and we'll be home. Simonn's awake this time, cooking stew. I hunted a couple rabbits and then we threw in some herbs (I'll restock at home) and now I'm writing this and to Sigmun, so he knows we're safe. He must be worried. I know I am.

6 July 1621

I'm writing this at my writing desk. Just a few months ago I was here, but it feels like much longer. Simonn is with Hannah, and I'd bet good money they'll be back in Simonn's room tonight. I can't be jealous of them-shouldn't be, really-but I do miss Sigmun. We've hardly spent time apart since I was a child.

I hope Simonn and Hannah are happy.

8 July 1621

I wrote Sigmun another letter today. It's strange signing with this new signature, but I don't think I mind too much.

Simonn's spending his time with Hannah while I gather herbs and medicines to bring back. I've hardly spoken to him. I certainly can't blame him.

10 July 1621

I met Patrik in town today, instead of Neolla and Mariek or just staying home to tend the garden. He was upset, I suppose because I left to do something very dangerous and didn't tell him except to leave a letter. But I think he understands now, or at least I hope so. I don't think we'll ever be friends like we were as children, but I don't want to abandon our friendship. He's important to me.

I got a letter back from Sigmun. Like usual it was full of love and affection and worry, reminding me to drink my tea (with the St. John's Wort, for the sadness) and telling me how much he loves me. I know he's a bit of a worry-wart (he gets it from Dolora), and it's sweet, but it makes me worry about him, too.

I also got a PS from Dolora, in her loopy handwriting, to weed the garden. Of course.

11 July 1621

I felt reflective today, like I do more often these days, and I read my old journals, from when I was sixteen and seventeen. I realize now that my mother was jealous of my youth, the opportunities I had while she was stuck in her failing marriage. I think it must have bothered her that I had a sort of happiness and youth that she was bitter about losing.

Having met her sister, I understand why she'd be bitter about a happy childhood.

13 July 1621

Neolla and Mariek met me in town today, like we've done these days. They had some wonderful news.

"Remember your final goal? Marching to the palace?" Neolla asked. Mariek had a somewhat scary smile, that sharp grin she has.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, we've got a very important ally for you."

"Who?"

"Candas."

"You're joking!"

"Not at all," Neolla said. "She's not truly on your side yet, but we suggested it to her and the idea of equality seemed to appeal to her. I think if we keep pushing at her, we'll win her over!"

"Thank you," I said, my breath catching a little with excitement.

"You're welcome," Neolla said. "We're on your side, you know."

"Well, she-he is," Mariek said. It's easy to forget Neolla goes as Nelson in the village. And I know Mariek's on our side. Well, Neolla is, and if Neolla is, Mariek is. Even though Mariek's a bit more…morally grey.

"You're the best," I said. "The both of you."

"Can I ask why you're back?"

"For a visit. Simonn wants to visit his siblings-brothers-and Hannah, and I'm here to visit you all."

Neolla nodded, accepting, and the three of us talked until dark.

14 July 1621

I suppose I knew I'd miss my love's birthday, but it still makes me sad. I used to make him baked apples for his birthday because they were his favorite. And I guess I just miss him. He's my husband; I suppose that's natural.

We leave tomorrow, so I should see him again by the twenty-third. I'll just be glad to see him again. It may sound silly but I miss the feeling of hugging him. Simonn's my best friend but he's skin and bones, and while he's comforting he's not Sigmun.

I suppose with Simonn focused elsewhere and Sigmun and Dolora traveling the country, I just feel a weird sort of lonely.

17 July 1621

I've fallen asleep without writing for two nights in a row after this vigorous travel. Simonn seems to want to get back to them as much as I do. He's hardly been talking and I think it's best to give him some space to sort out his thoughts. If he's still like this tomorrow I'll ask.

18 July 1621

Simonn woke me up early to travel and I was a bit confused, because he wanted to go home, and then I felt terrible because I thought he was doing it because I want so badly to go back to Dolora and Sigmun.

So I asked him about it while we were walking. "Simonn, why'd you get me up so early?"

"If we walk fast enough we can get back to them early."

"It's fine if you want to slow down. I'll live a few more hours without seeing them."

"Only if you want to slow down. They're my family too."

I felt terrible again for being so selfish to assume he doesn't care about Sigmun and Dolora as much as I do, and I said, "I'm sorry. You're right, they mean as much to you as they do to me."

"So let's walk fast, then, and see them soon. I haven't spent this much time away from Siggy or Dolora in years."

"I'm sorry. I guess I forgot how much they mean to you."

"It's fine. I just want to see them again."

"Me too," I said. "I'm sorry you can't have it both ways."

"So am I," he said. "But what we're doing is going to make the future better for my siblings and…and my daughter."

"Says the one who's convinced we'll fail."

"I never said we won't make any progress. Whatever we do manage to do will help them."

"How are they? You haven't been talking much, is everything alright?"

He shrugged. "They're fine. I still feel terrible leaving my siblings-my brothers-with my uncle, but…they're safe. So's Damara, and Hannah. They're safe being away from me."

"They must miss you."

"I suppose."

"Sigmun misses us, he says in all his letters. Your blood family and your fiancée miss you, and I bet your daughter misses her 'uncle'."

"I guess. I'm sad to be leaving them, certainly. I love them, and I was happy to see them. But this matters to me, what we're doing. You know?"

I nodded. "I know. It matters more to me than anything else."

"It's complicated," he said. "I love my family at home, of course. I miss them when we're gone, I'm overjoyed to see them again, and I'm sad to leave them. But I feel the same way about you all." After a moment of nothing, he added, "Thank you for coming with me."

"Of course. You're my best friend." When he didn't say anything, I added, "Simonn. I love you to pieces, and you're important to me. I want you to be happy. Just because you have stronger ties to home than Sigmun or Dolora or me, doesn't mean you love us or we love you any less. Alright?"

He nodded and we kept up a quick pace, even though we didn't talk much.

23 July 1621

We finally arrived in the next town we planned to visit today and when Sigmun saw us, his face lit up like the sun and he ran to us and hugged us both, one arm around each so Simonn and I were squished together. He kept saying how much he'd missed us, how worried he was, how much Dolora missed us…all that.

He insisted Simonn and I rest and he'd get dinner ready, and he and Dolora did. She kissed both our foreheads and asked me if I remembered my tea. I did, and I told her so. She also fussed over Simonn and his usual paleness, skinniness, and exhaustion.

For once Simonn went to bed early, but I was feeling oddly restless, so I sat up with Sigmun, and then we went into the woods like we do. It was nice, when I've been missing him for a while now. He has a very nice body. I know that's not the sort of thought women are supposed to have, but he does. He's strong without being grossly muscular, stocky and sturdy but also soft and gentle, and very nice to cuddle with when I sleep. No one else would ever hear me admit it aloud, and I'd never write it if I thought anyone else might read it, but I think he has a nice behind, too. It's nice to hold. I find men tend to be either awfully skinny, overly muscled, or worryingly wiry. My love is kind of in the middle.

I almost fell asleep in the woods because I was so pleasantly exhausted. Sigmun woke me up and we walked home and then cuddled together and slept.

25 July 1621

I lost track of the days traveling and I was terribly disoriented when my love shook me awake and said, "Are you feeling alright to go hunting for the village or not?"

"What?"

"It's Sunday, I'm speaking today. If you're not up to it, it's fine, but-"

"Oh, no, I'm alright. I just didn't know it was Sunday."

It was a lovely speech, as usual, and I got to talk with a woman afterwards named Bridget.

"Hi," I said.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Bridget Jennings."

"I'm Disciple, nice to meet you."

"You're Disciple?"

"Um. Yes?"

"I've heard about you. He talks about you all the time."

I smiled a little and said, "That's somewhat gratifying. He's my husband. Can I ask why you're here?"

"I heard he was talking about giving women the same chances as men. I…I thought it sounded nice. My father refused to teach me how to read, only ever taught my brothers."

"Your father read?"

"He was the preacher. I saw you writing?"

"I read and write in eight languages."

"Heavens! How?"

"I read a lot. I could teach you, if you like."

She smiled and said, "Yes, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. We can start now if you like."

So I spent the night teaching her letters and we even got to writing a few words. I have no idea how she spells her name (I guess for most everyone we meet), so I taught her the easiest way, and by the time she left she was absolutely glowing.

I should just start teaching everyone in these village to read and write. Whenever I even teach a woman to sign her own name, I see her face light up like a sunrise. Whenever I show a child how to write out the blocky letters that are our alphabet, I see the joy in their faces when they run to show their parents and friends. And of course reading letters for people who can't is such a joy. I think everyone deserves to know how to read and write.

27 July 1621

I've been teaching women writing in this village for three days and I think it's the best thing I've ever done. It's so wonderful to see people light up when they learn to read and write. Sigmun thinks it's wonderful. Sometimes he looks at me like I might be an angel and I wish he wouldn't, because I'm no angel. I'm just human.

I told him that, sitting around the fire, and he said, "Love, I don't think you're an angel. I don't think you're perfect, or flawless. But I happen to love you to pieces, and that's what's important to me."

"So why do you look at me like that?" I don't know if I felt angry or frustrated or what, but I wanted to know.

"Because I love you."

"I don't look at you like that, and I love you."

He tilted his head at me. "But you do."

"I do?"

"Sometimes. When I'm speaking. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong."

I thought about when he speaks and I'm writing and I realized he's right. I look at him like I love him.

28 July 1621

My love and I sat around the fire tonight, and he was terribly tense.

"Love," he said. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Of course," I said. I noticed he was speaking Russian, so I knew he was desperate not to be heard.

"Sometimes-not always-but sometimes, when i talk to someone from the village…when we stay long enough, I find…I find that I think they are attractive. I feel terrible when I think of you and I know it's wrong but-"

"Love, calm down," I said. "I…I've looked at other men. But…you're my husband. I married you and I promised to love you. I mean, dozens of women don't love their husbands, but when we were married, we swore to love each other. Just because there are other beautiful people out there, doesn't mean I love you any less. And I don't imagine it would mean you love me any less."

He nodded. "Alright. I love you, and I know you love me. I just can't help but worry."

"Love, you're taking to the woman who still has nightmares about her mother."

"She was terrible."

"Indeed."

"Let's go to bed," he said. "Or, to sleep anyways."

I nodded, doused the fire, and followed him to the tent. He's asleep now, but I'm writing (obviously). I had the thought the other day that this little book is perhaps my most trusted friend. I love and trust my family, of course, but this is where I spit everything out first. I could write anything here and no one could ever get angry at me for it. I know my family doesn't read it-they respect my space. I'm just safe in this little book. It's one of my last places of privacy, like sitting around the fire.

30 July 1621

Today my love was wearing one of my shirts when he woke me up (I had so many nightmares last night that I slept past dawn). I almost laughed. "Love, that's one of mine."

"Really? It fits me."

"It's my chores shirt, so I fit it loose. I sewed it with green thread, though. Yours are red."

He rolled back the sleeve, then pulled out a couple other shirts, to examine the thread. "I can't tell."

"What?"

"I can't tell. They look the same to me, frankly."

"Then how do you tell the difference?"

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed," he started, teasing, "But you and I have vastly different bodies. So if I put on a shirt and it's too short and the sleeves are too short and there's a bunch of extra material around my chest and-"

"I get it, I get it," I said, laughing. "Can you really not tell?"

He nodded. "I think, frankly, that I don't quite see colors like everyone else does. Like…leaves in the fall. You and Simonn must see something I don't in them. I always went because I like watching you and Simonn so enamored."

"How do you know?"

"I've never been able to tell between green and red-or, what I imagine you call green and red. I know you have green eyes because people don't have red eyes. But a green or red book-I can never tell the difference."

"My goodness."

He shrugged. "Never bothered me too much."

"We could look it up. See if there's something to be done about it."

"Oh, I doubt it. But it's alright. I'm not sick or anything." He smiled a little and kissed my nose. I wanted to lean forward and nuzzle at his neck, but I was still lying down at a terrible angle to do so. "I'll change, then." He winked at me. "You can watch if you like."

"Don't mind if I do." I'm not one to pass up the opportunity to see him with no shirt on. He has nice muscles. I can see him with no clothes at all really anytime I like but I like the way he pulls his shirt up over his head-I like the way his muscles stretch.

Either way, I got dressed and ready for the day, feeling a little happier than normal. Maybe it's just because I had a good start to the morning, but I was happy.

31 July 1621

Teaching people to read here has been wonderful, but we leave tomorrow. I don't think anyone's coming with, but I'm leaving behind some paper and pens so Bridget and everyone can keep practicing. I hope they do keep practicing.

Dolora was fussing about my tea today, because it's important for me, but I assured her I drink it every day. I think it's because of that that these days, I feel alright. I can't say I'm always happy or anything of that sort, but I feel normal feelings in normal amounts, and sometimes I'm surprised to realize that I really am happy.