1 November 1621

Today was All Saints'. It didn't hurt that much, not after all these years. It was…actually quite fun, all things considered. There was the usual: dancing and food, a fiddler and all that good stuff. I felt quite comfortable dancing with my husband and my best friend (Dolora doesn't dance much). Nothing much else is comfortable in our lives right now-sleeping on the ground, always half-afraid of some official showing up to arrest us, feeding about thirty times the people I used to-but it was fun and happy.

Kirchine invited us for dinner and we met her husband and two children, who were just the sweetest. She has a son, James, and a daughter, Margery. It was delicious and fun, and when we got back to the tent to sleep, I felt very secure and happy.

3 November 1621

We're staying longer in this town so we can be traveling the seventh, and I don't mind because reading has been going so well. I love seeing people recognize a word and read it aloud, or sign their name perfectly and know what it says. It's such a wonderful feeling.

5 November 1621

We left today, early, and the cold makes it slower going. It's really setting in and making it a lot more necessary to sleep close to Sigmun. We've been walking mostly in silence, and I can tell everyone is thinking about something. Simonn about his dreams, Sigmun about his, Dolora about us probably, and me about my family.

I think it'd be better if we talked, but it's hard.

7 November 1621

Of course I cried today, I couldn't help it. And being away from home…I wanted to put flowers on his grave, but instead he's alone. He'd be four years old this year. He'd be talking and playing and I'd come home from work to see him and my love reading or playing, smell dinner cooking.

I know it's pathetic to dream of domesticity, but I do. Sometimes I just want to be safe and happy at home.

8 November 1621

We arrived in a new town today. Immediately the local priest was unhappy with us. His name was Reverend Cohen, and he just lit into us about hellfire and all that (I tuned it out after a while, because he wasn't really making any points-just shouting about us going to hell).

But we set up camp anyways and I went hunting and all I could think of was myself as an older woman teaching my son to hunt.

10 November 1621

We started lessons today, and fewer people came because it's so damn cold. But those who did come were pretty determined. We got very far! This one woman named Jane did so well, she was writing her name by the end of the lesson.

I feel like I have more faith in the world after seeing things like this.

12 November 1621

With the show on the ground and the freezing air, Dolora's been helping more people treat winter colds and illnesses like winter fever. I hate seeing children with winter fever. I hate seeing children in pain. I used to think I could be the midwife after Dolora, but I can't stand to see people suffering. I couldn't bear to watch people die.

One girl here has brain fever, and I hate to see that. Her name is Theresa, and I know her because she heard about the reading lessons and got excited, and who am I to turn down a little girl who wants to know how to read and write? I've been visiting her after normal lessons are over. I'm so glad to be teaching someone, no matter who it is.

13 November 1621

I've been thinking of moving lessons to an inside space, maybe the church. I mean, I doubt the priest would stand for it, but I don't care. In my opinion, everyone should learn to read and write, and if that means that more than just a few priests can read the Bible, then so be it!

(Which is almost certainly the reason they don't want anyone else to read.)

Anyways, it is just too cold out to keep people outside for too long. If it won't be the church, it'll be someone's house. Otherwise someone might freeze to death.

15 November 1621

I got a letter from home today and I couldn't believe it. Neolla sent me a quick note, I suppose deciding it couldn't wait, telling me that Candas wants to join the cause! Apparently she agrees that it's not fair for one person to hold all the power and she wants no part in a government if it's not one that's fair. I told Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora right before we went to sleep, and they're all pretty excited too.

I'm not sure I really trust her, but for Sigmun's sake I'll try to.

17 November 1621

Simonn was up last night, huddled close to the fire, and when I woke up I took a blanket and wrapped it around the both of us so he wouldn't freeze to death.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't trust her."

"Candas?"

He nodded. "I can't explain it. Something about her just feels…wrong."

"I always got a bad feeling from her. But I know people can change."

"I do too. But sometimes you have to trust your instincts."

"I suppose."

For a moment, we just sat there, close and warm.

"I can't trust her," Simonn said.

"Why not?"

"Between that bad feeling I had in the palace, and the bad one now…she's got something to do with it. Whatever's in my dreams."

"What?"

"The…thing in my dreams. This nightmare I've been having for years, every April. I don't know what it is, but I'm pretty sure she's part of it. I don't know why. It's just a feeling."

"Simonn, no offense or anything, but I would like a little more than a feeling to toss out the support of the future queen of our country."

"You don't really trust her, either."

"Maybe I don't. But I do trust him, and he can't know you don't trust her."

"Let's add another thing to list of things we can't tell him."

"Stop it," I said (whined, a little).

"Stop what?"

"I already feel guilty enough keeping things from him. Do you know he asked me what your nightmares are about?"

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault. We both know he can't know this, and we both know it's hard," I said. "And I'm pretty sure you're keeping things from me, too."

"What?"

"Odds are good there are things he's told you he hasn't told me. And odds are good there are things he's told me that he hasn't told you, even though I'm not sure what off the top of my head."

"I'm not keeping any secrets from you. He talks to me about a lot of things, including you, but nothing I don't tell you."

"What does he say about me?"

"Um, I don't know. Sometimes-I'm serious-he just gushes to me about how much he loves you." He rolled his eyes. "Sometimes he worries about being a 'bad husband', by traditional standards, and he just fusses about being a good husband a lot."

"I've been through that with him-"

"He's an incurable worrywart, I think it's just part of his personality. Look, I don't know, I don't have any secrets from you. You're my best friend. Well, so is he, but…you know what I mean!"

"You love him, so you don't tell him certain things. You love me, so you tell me everything."

He nodded. "Yes."

"I feel the same way," I said.

There wasn't much talk after that. We just sat in silence until we were almost frozen and we had to go in the tent to sleep.

19 November 1621

I swear Sigmun can tell Simonn and I are keeping something from him. Maybe he can tell I feel guilty. His empathy might as well be a psychic power, sometimes. He's been giving me that look when he knows I want to talk to him. Even as we're preparing to leave this town, he knows something's different with me.

21 November 1621

We left the town early today and after dinner, after me hunting and Dolora cooking her stew, after Dolora went to bed and Simonn went for a walk, Sigmun and I were sitting in the tent and he said, "Penny for your thoughts."

"Oh, they're worth much less than that."

"Not at all, I'm sure they're very valuable."

"You're silly. I'm just thinking about Candas."

"How come?"

"Well, I'm overjoyed she's on our side. You know that. But part of me worries-she always frightened me a little. Not to mention Grantt and Orvill."

"Well, we won't be dealing with them directly. Mostly through letters." He knows me so well.

"I know. But I'm just worried because I don't trust her to give up her power."

"She's not joining to give up her power. She said she didn't want to rule an unfair country."

"Alright," I said. I knew there was nothing I could say to dissuade him, and I realized that it might be for the better. Let my love believe in goodness and trust, and Simonn and I will do what we always do-protect him.

I don't mistrust Candas like Simonn does. I think she could have a spark of good in her. I think with time she might actually help us. But I don't trust her like Sigmun does.

I might as well have been named Janus with how two-faced I feel these days.

23 November 1621

We're in a new town, and it's quite cold and snowy out. There's no way writing lessons can even start outside here. I'll talk to the priest today and see how he feels about it. Some are kinder than others.

24 November 1621

The priest agreed! He agreed that people ought to learn to read and said it was alright to use the church (although, to be fair, Simonn asked, so he might change his mind when he finds out we're teaching women). I'm excited to begin here.

26 November 1621

I met a woman named Agnes, who was much kinder than the seamstress in charge at home, and as we were practicing writing, she asked, "Why aren't there any men here?"

"I imagine they don't want to be taught by a woman."

"So why do you teach, and not one of the men in your party."

"It matters more to me that I teach women, because there's hardly anyone else capable. Men have more options-and they are always welcome at these lessons. It's their choice not to come." Then I added, "Besides, my husband and my best friend have other tasks. I think they teach men to read sometimes. Heaven knows most people in this country don't have the opportunities they deserve."

She nodded, and then said, "So you want to give everyone the same chances?"

"Yes."

"What about people who don't take chances? Or people who can't?"

"Anyone who can't work still deserves to live. If family can't care for them, we hope to set up a government that will. And I really think people will take whatever chances are offered to them, if only the chances are present in the first place."

She nodded again.

"Sorry, I don't want to preach at you. I want to hear about your life."

She's twenty-six and married to a man named Tom, with one little daughter named Sally, and she's pregnant right now (it's quite visible). I wish her the best-heaven knows I'm sympathetic towards women giving birth.

28 November 1621

Last night, Simonn went to sit by the fire and I heard him get up so I followed him, because I was worried about his nightmares.

"Simonn."

"I knew you were awake. I need to talk to you about something."

I rolled my eyes. "You could just tap my shoulder or something, silly."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"So what is it?"

"I want to go home again."

"For a visit."

"Of course. And…you know I hate to drag you away from the work you're doing…"

"I'll go with you, Simonn. We can visit all the other towns again, and I wouldn't mind seeing Neolla and Mariek and Patrik. They're my friends, too."

"Then when should we leave?"

"Well, if we walk quickly, and stop half a day in each town…it'll take about eighteen days. Maybe twenty."

"Then how about we leave a December second. To be home for Christmas."

"Is…is it…"

"You can have Christmas dinner with my family. Of course it's alright."

"Stop reading my mind like that, it's weird."

"As if you don't do the same thing."

I sighed and said, "He's going to worry himself to death."

"That's true."

"I'll write."

"And he'll worry. But we'll be fine. Traveling home feels safe-farther from what will hurt us."

"Well, that's good."

"We'll tell him tomorrow," Simonn said. "No sense waking him so late."

I nodded. "He wouldn't even be coherent."

Simonn laughed, quietly, and said, "It's late."

"And yet."

"We should sleep."

"We should."

A pause.

"If I have one more nightmare I'll lose my mind," Simonn said.

"Just try to sleep," I said.

"You know how it is."

"I do. And I know that being tired makes them worse."

He sighed, rolled his eyes. "I know you're right, but still."

"You're stubborn as a bull."

"You're worse."

I smiled a little. "Come on."

He followed me to the tent and I curled up with my love while he went to his own bedroll.

29 November 1621

Of course Sigmun is already out of his mind with worry. But I assured him I'd write every day, or at least every other day, and we'd be together. I didn't tell him about my breadknife, but I'll have it. Part of me thinks I should get a proper weapon, and part of me thinks that would be incredibly hypocritical considering how much he preaches not using violence.

Oh well. No one needs to know. I'd rather be alive with a weapon than dead.