1 May 1622

This new town is larger than most of the others we've visited and perhaps it's because of that or maybe it's because the king is catching on to us, but there's many more guards. It makes me nervous. Well, it makes me more than nervous, but I don't know quite how to describe it.

I'd talk to Sigmun, but I don't want him to worry. He's got plenty enough to worry about without me.

4 May 1622

Writing lessons, speeches, hunting, healing, debating, arguing, hiding-all the usual activities. I've been carrying around some of our savings in a pouch under my cloak in case I run into another guard harassing another person who can't afford something. Of course I always have my bread knife on me, and of course Sigmun still doesn't know about it.

I need to talk to someone. Maybe Simonn next time he's up from nightmares.

7 May 1622

We had quite the night last night. After his speech, everyone was eating stew and talking, and I was talking with Jane and Elizabeth, all the usual, some guards found the camp and accused us of unlawful assembly, I think. Something like that. Sigmun stepped up to talk with them while Dolora and Simonn and I slowly siphoned people off and into the forest to go home with assurances that they could come back tomorrow, everything would be okay. When they were all gone, us three joined Sigmun, who was still talking.

"Sirs, I promise you, all we are doing is providing food and conversation. My wife teaches hunting for subsistence and writing for enrichment. My mother simply spreads effective healing techniques. My dear friend just talks to people to provide them with comfort in these hard times. All I do is talk with people who need a friendly ear."

"You have been inciting rebellion among the people."

"I understand that you'll be in quite a lot of trouble with the king if you don't arrest criminals for this sort of behavior. However, I think you'll find that if you send a message to Her Highness Candas the First, you will see that our activities pose no threat and are completely authorized." He wasn't upset or anything, just calmly telling them in that cheerful voice of his that we weren't hurting anyone.

He was lying, though. I've never seen him do that before.

The guard looked concerned. "Why should we?"

"Well, I don't want to waste your time-dragging us to the city only for her to set us free. It's much easier for you to post a guard on us and send a message to her. And then you can see for yourself that we're causing no harm."

The guard frowned, but my love is extremely persuasive.

"We will have a guard on you at all times, you understand," he said.

"Of course," Sigmun says. "Thank you for your service to our monarch-it's important to keep this country safe from people who might try to cause problems."

He nodded stiffly and gave some instructions, at which point Sigmun turned to us and his face dropped.

"Ça va?" I asked.

He shrugged, and continuing in French, said, "I'm quite tired."

I nodded and set about stoking the fire. Dolora made a simple stew and we all went to our tents, where Sigmun started crying.

"My love?"

"I-I-I hate lying," he said, in Russian. "I hate it."

"Sigmun, you have no choice," I said. "We can't tell them what we want to do, even if Candas approves. She'll tell them to leave us alone and we can keep the letter as proof. Do you want me to handle it next time?"

"No, I wouldn't make you," he said. "You were shaking when they were talking to us. And I know it frightens you."

It does, he's right, but I had no idea he noticed.

"Well, if it helps, you did very well."

He shrugged. "I suppose." He leaned forward, and so I met him halfway and kissed him softly. I wanted him so badly I could hardly stand it, but with the guard there, there was no chance. One of these days I'll get around to seducing him again. It's not as if it's hard to do.

9 May 1622

Candas's message came today. She sent us a letter to present to any guards we encounter to prove to them that we're not causing any trouble. With the guards gone, Jane was visibly less worried. I'm glad; we don't need people scared off because the guards are onto us.

I don't know why they'd be getting more numerous if Candas supports us, but maybe it's her father's doing. Or maybe Simonn's right about her.

13 May 1622

A new town today. Our travel time is getting shorter, I suppose because we're getting used to traveling. I suppose overall we've become habituated to rebellion.

16 May 1622

Lessons today as always. There are definitely more guards in this town, stalking around in pairs of two and glowering at people. It makes me anxious, and while I conceal it around town I'm sure my family notices. Simonn and I will have to plan another trip home soon, to visit the towns we haven't seen in a while and to visit home. Neolla and Mariek, while not with us, are working on our bigger plan-inspecting and mapping the city and such.

18 May 1622

I spoke with a woman today named Josephine who seemed quite exhausted. She told me she'd been staying up late writing by candlelight. I told her that while I was impressed, she might learn better well-rested. I hope that didn't sound condescending, but I never learn as well when I'm tired.

Anyways, teaching's been going well, reading and writing as well as hunting. Bowhunting isn't easy, but all one really needs is practice.

21 May 1622

Simonn was up at the fire last night, like he does sometimes. This time there were people asleep in his and Dolora's little tents so we were all squished into the bigger tent, Sigmun's and mine. I noticed he was gone when I had a nightmare and managed to get out without waking Dolora or Sigmun (considering that he sleeps with his arms around me this was quite the feat).

Since there were other people there, I said, "Si."

"Di."

"Did you have the nightmare again?"

"No," he said, "A different one."

"What happened?"

"You don't want to know."

"What? Why not?"

He frowned, bit his lip, and stared harder at the flames. If he'd stared any harder I would've thought he was conjuring the fire from his thoughts. "It's…not good for you."

"It's not set in stone."

"Maybe. But it's not good for you."

"None of this will be good for any of us. Please, Si, it'll drive you mad trying to keep it in."

"I can't tell you," he said. "It'll hurt you. It'll scare you."

"I'm already scared. I'm already hurt."

"You're not hurt yet."

"Not physically, but don't you think it hurts me when he cries every time he lies? When you sit by the fire pulling yourself to pieces because you won't talk to me?"

"You're putting me in an impossible situation," he said.

"So tell me," I said. "Solve it. Do the impossible."

He took one of those deep breaths he does. "They're going to torture us. You know that."

"I do."

"They don't really do that much anymore, but someone-and I'm not saying it's Candas, but I would not put it past her or Grantt-is going to make an exception for us. They're going to execute some of us. They'll do…terrible things to us."

"I know, Si. It's going to hurt."

"It will. And…you're going to have your wedding ring."

"Of course I will," I say. "I'll have it until the day I die."

"I-they're-I don't know how to say this," he said, looking fretful. "I-I can't tell him, because it'll drive him mad with worry. I can't tell her for the same reason. And I can hardly tell you because it's about you. But…I have to get this off my chest!"

"Si, what is it?" I asked again, because he was really starting to worry me-even more than Sigmun when his voices get loud.

"They're going to hurt you and him for each other. Like a play," he said quietly. "It's going to be awful. I-I'm not there. I only hear you and him-screaming. I think…he begs them not to touch you. You scream at them that you hate them and hope they burn in hell for what they're doing. I'm sorry, I can't see in that one. I can see in some of them but not that one."

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault what you dream or don't dream. I'm just trying to help you out by listening."

"Well, I'm done talking, so if you want to start on what's bothering you, go ahead."

"I'm fine."

"You're lying."

I frowned at him. "Fine. Seeing all these guards makes me…anxious, I guess. I hate being around guards. I wish I wasn't afraid of them all the time but I can't seem to do anything about it."

"That's reasonable," he said. "I'd be afraid of the guards if I were you."

"You're not?"

"Not the same way. I mean, I'm afraid of them because of my dreams, but one of them actually hurt you. It makes perfect sense to be afraid." He leaned a little towards me and took my hands, looking very solemn and concerned. "I-I can't promise they'll never hurt you. But I'll do everything I can to stop them."

"Si, you don't have to promise anything. I can take care of myself. If anything, I should be keeping them away from you-which I will."

"I know that," he says. "I just want you to know."

I nodded and he let go of my hands. I hugged him close and said, quietly, "We'll both protect them, and each other, and it's going to be okay."

"No it won't."

"Just pretend."

"Okay."

We went back to the tent and I curled up next to my love with my head on his chest and let his heartbeat lull me to sleep.

24 May 1622

Sigmun's voices have been loud lately. We left the town this morning and had to stop briefly because they were screaming at him, too loud for him to think. He wouldn't have stopped except that he fell over and we all panicked. Dolora mixed up some of her herbs into something to calm the nerves, and Simonn and I just sat there with him and tried to calm him down, but it took hours. His voices finally quieted enough for him to talk to us, but he didn't say much. He let us keep hugging him until the voices were back to normal.

Later, when Dolora was cooking and Simonn reading, Sigmun said, "They hate me."

"What?"

"Most of my voices-they hate me. Some of them hate me because I'm stupid for even doing this because we'll never get anywhere, and some of them hate me for putting you all in danger, and some of them…some of them are just cruel."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Thank you,' he said genuinely. "I know how you feel now, I suppose."

"What?"

"With the melancholy. I never knew what it felt like for your own mind to turn on you, and now I know. I'm so sorry for everything you've been through. The melancholy and the other nonsense your mind does."

"What other nonsense?"

"The nightmares and everything."

"Oh. Well, thank you. But how are you doing?"

"I'll be okay," he said. "You're okay, right?"

"Sure."

"I'm sorry I haven't been a great husband lately."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, we're starting a revolution and all that, and I'm preaching to people and talking to them and teaching them, but I'm also your husband and I love you."

"I haven't exactly been a stunning example of a good wife, then." Which is true. Keeping secrets and all.

"Our next stop, when I'm feeling a little more steady, we'll be a proper married couple," he promised, resting his forehead against mine. I leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet. I think sometimes I want him more than he wants me, but not because he doesn't want me-because he doesn't want so much. I don't mind, really. We have other things to do.

As long as I sleep wrapped up in his arms, I'm fine with however our marriage turns out.

26 May 1622

Sigmun and I finally went out into the woods again last night. It was wonderful, better than it's ever been. I mean, ever since we were married it's been getting better, but this time was spectacular. Maybe I was just worked up or something from the winter months, but I don't care. It was great.

Simonn's been drinking my tea and he's been perking up some, looking less sad anyways. I think his melancholy is different from mine-more circumstantial, if more dramatic when it rears its ugly head.

29 May 1622

All the usual today. Mary from town is one of the quickest learners I've ever met. She's already shooting with remarkably accuracy and writing better than I did when I learned. She doesn't know much about actually stringing together words, but her penmanship is lovely. She makes these delicate script p's and q's that are just stunning.

She's also very pretty. If I weren't a married woman I might find her attractive. I suppose that's not really right, but Dolora only really loves women so it can't really be so bad. (Although Dolora tells us that we don't know her parents because she was never married.)

Either way, it doesn't matter too much. I am a married woman and I love Sigmun. I know why people commit adultery, but I can't even imagine it. I just love him.

1 June 1622

Sigmun agrees with me that Mary is very pretty and talented, and then he teased me that he hoped he didn't have any competition.

"Of course not, my love. You're the only one for me."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. He's so sweet.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I said.

And I do.

4 June 1622

Dolora knows something is wrong. I know she knows because she cornered me once we'd started traveling to ask about it. "Dianna dear, is something bothering you?"

"Nothing," I said, much too fast. I'm not good at lying to her.

"Dear, it's alright. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I'm really alright," I said again.

"Well, dear, I won't press you. But it might help to talk about things, alright?" She frowned, looking concerned, and it almost hurt. I hate worrying Dolora-I worried her enough when I was young.

"Thanks. But I'm alright," I said. I hate lying to my family. I don't think it would help them one bit to tell them what Simonn believes, or perhaps knows, but I hate lying to them. I've crossed some line in my head now and I can't go back.

It's going to hurt, but if it hurts any more than this, I'll be impressed.

7 June 1622

He made a speech two days ago on Sunday, and I swear he speaks better every time. He speaks like his words could tear down all the structures we live with that hurt us. Of course, when it's just us he talks in that easy way he always has, but when he speaks he could move mountains.

He says he doesn't hear his voices when he speaks, so I hope he speaks more often. They're not nice to him.

9 June 1622

I met a woman named Gail today who was brilliant at hunting but hopeless with her penmanship. I suppose I know that people are good at different things, but I still want to teach everyone everything.

12 June 1622

There has to be something I can do about Sigmun's voices. They've been so loud lately, or so he tells me. I have no reason to doubt him, but I also have no way to be inside his head. I wish I could be there for him more, but I just don't know how. I'd offer him some of my tea, but I don't think that would help.

He had a speech today and it helped, but not as much as usual. Maybe when we start the next town he'll feel better. Maybe Dolora can mix something up for him-or maybe we can find a book to help him.

There has to be something.

14 June 1622

We leave tomorrow, and hopefully we can get some rest before we get to the next town. I won't let Sigmun do any of the housework (tentwork?) if I can stop him, because I think he needs rest more than anyone else-even Simonn with his terrible nightmares, even Dolora with all the work she does healing.

I don't fancy myself a remarkable teacher, but it can be quite tiring. Maybe we all need a rest.

17 June 1622

We're in a new town now and I think Sigmun feels a bit better. He says his voices are a little quieter. I hope he's telling the truth, because I know his voices are really cruel. I wish telling him the wonderful things he is and does was enough, but I know it's not, and it never will be. I guess I'll just try to be there for him as long as I can.

19 June 1622

He made a speech today and afterwards he seemed quite happy. Later, when it was quiet and we were going to bed, he tapped my shoulder and asked me to come out to the woods with him in just the sweetest way imaginable, with that cute little grin of his. He's so cute. I wanted to sleep out in the woods with him, warm and safe, but we did have to go back to the tent, because although everyone knows we're married we don't really let anyone know anything about it.

I sometimes wish we could go back to our old lives, when we were comfortable at home. I know we can't, and I really don't think I could give this up. We're making a difference, and I could never stop.

22 June 1622

Simonn was up late last night at the fire and so I went to sit with him.

"Nightmares?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I just remembered I turned twenty-seven four days ago."

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I forgot."

"It's alright," he said. "It's easy to do. I just remembered. You know, she's getting older…"

"Who is?"

"My daughter. She was two in March. Han-Handmaid wrote, told me she's talking and everything. Eleanor's teaching her to walk. I really want to go home soon to see her."

"We should definitely make another trip home," I said. "I'd love to meet her."

"Me too," he said quietly. "I think about her every day." Then, after a moment, "I'm sorry. Luke…"

I blinked hard. "I-I know you love her," I said. "I know you loved Luke, too. And I love her-she might as well be my niece. When we go home, I would love to see her."

"We ought to go sometime during the end of harvest," Simonn said. "When people have plenty and are willing to share. They'll be more receptive, and we can hopefully get to sleep in someone's guest room."

"One of us, anyways."

"Oh, right. We're not married," I said.

"Not to each other, anyways."

"Well, I am married, and you might as well be, so we'll work it out. Everyone thinks we're cousins anyways."

"That's true. Although we're closer to siblings in some ways."

"It's easier to say cousins."

He nodded and we were quiet for a moment.

"He's going to get worried," I said quietly.

"He always does."

"His…his voices. Do you think he'll be able to manage?"

"He'll have her."

"But…what if it's too much for him? What if he can't bear it anymore?"

Simonn paused, and thought. "What does he do when they're loudest?"

"Hides. He'll go to sleep early and not talk to anyone."

"Well, that's no help."

"He always feels better after talking to someone, about the voices or not, but he hardly does."

"He doesn't talk to me."

"He doesn't want to worry you."

Simonn gave me a look.

"Has it occurred to you that you're not the only one with problems?"

"No need to be rude."

"Sorry," I said. "It just makes me feel ill, keeping things from him."

Simonn frowned. "I-I'm sorry. This is all my fault…If I hadn't told you, you wouldn't be keeping it from him…"

"First of all, you'd be keeping it from me, which I think would be a terrible idea. Second of all, it's not all your fault, and this is my problem to handle."

"It may be, but if there's anything I can do…"

"I wish there was some way we could tell him," I say. "I know we can't. Heaven knows his voices would only get worse. But I wish."

Simonn nodded, and eventually went to bed. I curled up with my love and was out like a snuffed candle.

25 June 1622

He gives a speech tomorrow. He was reciting it to me tonight, after I'd finished lessons, and I was giving him suggestions like always, when he stopped and said, "You know, love, I know marriage is really more a business arrangement than anything else, but I love you."

"I know that, and I love you too," I said. "Why?"

"I don't think I've been a very good husband lately."

"Why not?"

"With…with the voices and all, I haven't been with you as much as I want to be."

"You realize this happens once every few months."

He sighed. "I know. I say I'll try to spend more time with you, and then I don't, and then I apologize for it-I'm sorry."

"It's my fault as much as yours," I said. "I'm always doing lessons or translating things. I should be spending more time with you, love. I know it helps you, and I love you!"

"I love you too," he said.

"Well, how about this?" I said. "Every town we stop in, we spend at least every other night together."

"I might get tired, love," he teased.

"Not like that, silly," I said. "I just mean…talking. Of course, I wouldn't object if you wanted to…"

"I'm awfully tired," he said.

"Alright," I said. "Well, how about we go to bed, anyways? We need rest."

He nodded and we went to bed, the speech unfinished. I suppose sometimes it's alright to leave it for later.

28 June 1622

We left town today. Moving along, as usual. I need to find a salve for my sore muscles-something like the mint oil Dolora uses. Sleeping on the ground and hunting all the time and traveling every few weeks is taking its toll my me.

30 June 1622

A new town once more. There were more guards, but Sigmun showed them the letter and they didn't bother us. It's odd, but I suppose Candace's word carries a lot of weight. Lessons started today and I met a woman named Magaret who had brilliant aim in almost no time at all. It took me years to have such good aim.

People are so talented! I can't believe any objects to educating everyone when people hold such potential.