Chapter 29

Bryndísar Family Farm , Iceland

Tuesday, October 25th, 2050

Honest labor. Ugh. It was enough to make a true son of the Horde break out in hives. Tending to Viktor, hauling hay bales for the sheep, it was all work for lesser beings.

At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. A week in, though? I wasn’t… hating it as much as I’d expected. Ending the day with a dull ache in my muscles made me feel like I’d accomplished something. I’d even stopped sneezing when I got a good coating of dust from the dried hay.

Things were easier once the three farmhands had returned with the new sheep in tow. They were still isolated in a separate barn and enclosed pasture, and they’d become mine and Kowalski’s responsibility.

“You’ve got to let the new sheep get used to each other,” Bryndísar had explained. “They get acquainted by smell. We’ll let them out once a week or so has passed.”

That meant they’d strip the little enclosure to the soil right quick, so there was a lot of alfalfa and other feed to haul over. Was it drudgery? Yes, but I wasn’t entirely miserable. I credited it to the same biological trickery that made me eventually not hate my morning runs with Rose. I swear, the Enemy designed humans to love things they ought to have disdained. Good thing I’m only half-compromised. It gives me some perspective.

If I was satisfied, Kowalski was positively jubilant. I could see it in his expression, and he carried himself with a bit more confidence than I’d ever seen from him. He looked like a different man in the heavy work clothes.

“I’m telling you, Magpie, this is real living! No walls but the hills, fresh air, real food. Just you and God’s creation.”

I could also tell because he wouldn’t bloody well shut up about it. “I didn’t realize the man upstairs made haybales or barns,” I replied.

“Well… not directly, no,” he conceded.

“Then it’s just as artificial as that that apartment in Gunma,” I said flatly. “You simply like this artifice better.”

He frowned at me. “You’re a real cynic.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” I replied with a shrug. “As long as I’m dragging down the mood, how’s your roommate doing?” I pointed to the shadowy beast, perched in a watchful position at the other end of the enclosed paddock. Thankfully, the sheep were too stupid to perceive him as a threat.

Kowalski lit up, which was rare when the topic was Buddy. “Oh, he’s loving this! I mean, he keeps trying to bother the sheep, but he’s just having fun, y’know? He hasn’t tried to hurt anyone.”

Yet. “Excellent,” I said. “This is really your chance to master him. You know this has to end at some point; he has to be willing to listen when we’re somewhere enclosed. Like, oh say, an airplane.” I can’t always be there to secretly drug you.

“Y-yeah, you’re right.” With a grunt of effort, emptied a bucket of green feed I couldn’t identify into a trough. The hungry beasts descended on it in an instant. “Eat up, guys.”

“Looks like you two are working hard,” said Lilja. The brunette woman leaned on the wooden fence, smiling as she looked at the new herd. She said something I didn’t catch in Icelandic, but it sounded soothing.

“N-nope, it isn’t hard at all, we’re doing great,” rambled Kowalski. “We can do this all day!”

A dirty joke crossed my mind, but not my lips. I couldn’t be blamed, as enthusiastic as he always was when Heida’s sister came around.

Lilja chuckled at Kowalski’s outburst. “Then I guess you two brave guys don’t need any lunch.”

“If Kowalski insists, I’ll bravely eat his portion. It’s a sin to waste food, after all.” I’d felt like a bottomless pit since the real work started. Back at the school we’d had a few dedicated combat training days, but this work was like having those every day of the week.

“N-no, I can eat,” said Kowalski. “Wouldn’t want to ruin Magpie’s figure.”

I cocked my head at him. Was that Kowalski actually… joking? Huh. He really is relaxed for once.

We returned to the farmhouse, where Mariko had been hard at work, judging by the delightful scents filling the air. She looked every inch the housewife in her dress and apron. Her radiant smile as she leaned out of the kitchen made my heart skip a beat. “You three wash up. We are nearly ready.”

Really, the only person who didn’t seem happy with our working arrangements was Heida, who was already in the restroom. I wasn’t sure where she’d been all morning, but she seemed awfully clean to have been out with the animals.

“It’s like I never left,” she muttered to herself. “I just checked in with the Reykjavik office. Corpsman Olvirsson says they don’t have any leads yet, so we’re here ‘for the duration’.” She made a gagging sound as she brushed past us. “This stupid farm.”

“I’m sorry we’re such a burden,” said Lilja in a cool tone.

Heida flinched. “Oh, hi Lilja. I didn’t realize you were there.” She jabbed Kowalski in the arm. “This one’s too tall.”

“Let’s talk about it when the others aren’t around,” said Lilja with a decorum that made you forget she was the little sister.

Heida groaned and retreated back downstairs. I had a feeling I was going to hear about it later, too.

Oh well. For once, I wasn’t the one in trouble.

****************

Lunch proved to be lavish; Mariko had apparently found an old American cookbook in the kitchen and was working through it in no particular order. I’d never had chicken and dumplings before, but I added it to the list of discoveries to take with me back to…

Japan, I supposed. I kept having to remind myself I wasn’t going back to Pandemonium. Something about the relatively primitive surroundings had me more homesick than normal. There was technology, but it wasn’t omnipresent like everywhere else I’d visited in the human realms. As much as I mocked Kowalski for mentioning the Enemy, he hadn’t been entirely wrong about our setting. It was a strange feeling, to feel at home and not all at once. I’m sure the Germans have a word for it, but alas, I only spoke French and an increasing amount of Japanese.

After we finished our meal and the civilians had cleared out, Heida shared Henrik’s report with everyone. “I don’t like this.”

“You were pretty clear about that earlier,” said Kowalski, earning a raised eyebrow from Bryndísar.

“Not that,” said Heida. “I’m always antsy about orders without an end date. You all know how fast the League works sometimes; they could declare us all clear tomorrow, or it could be six months from now.”

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” said Bryndísar. “It’s been wonderful having you back again.”

She pasted an empty smile on her face. “It’s been nice seeing you, too. I haven’t really been able to visit since you… since you got back from England.”

“I’m sure you would have if you could,” replied the older man. “I know how busy you are.” Heida flinched at the subtle rebuke, a clear sign of a guilty conscience.

“I am simply glad we can be of use to you,” said Mariko. “I know taking care of us was an unexpected burden.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “You’re all more than paying your way. Though…” He patted his belly. “We aren’t all working as hard as those young men there. My cardiologist might want words with you if you keep feeding me like that.”

“Ara,” said Mariko, unconsciously grabbing her bad hand. “I-I am sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. I will keep that in mind.”

“It was a joke,” snapped Heida. “Pabbi likes his humor dry.”

Mariko’s brow wrinkled. “But he means it. He used humor to soften the blow, but it is still a blow.”

“How much I mean it depends on if you leave tomorrow or next year,” replied the farmer. “Make what you like; I should be more active, anyway.”

“I don’t see what your doctor has to complain about,” I said, taking a chance. “You’ve lost so much weight already!”

The gamble paid off, and Bryndísar’s mirth was as great as Kowaksi and Mariko’s shock. “You aren’t much for sugarcoating, Skjor.”

“I find it wastes time,” I replied. “Speaking of, we’ve finished our chores for now. We should go run some defensive drills.”

Bryndísar raised his eyebrow. “You keep doing that every day. I think you can relax a little; there’s no way the demonkin know you’re out here.”

That isn’t what the drills are for, but no sense letting him know how dangerous Buddy is. “Don’t underestimate the Horde’s pawns. They aren’t the type to forgive and forget.”

Once we had left Bryndísar behind, Mariko came up alongside me. “I still think we should tell him about Brandur’s sheep.”

“No point in that,” I replied. “We never got anything solid from the lab reports.”

“Whose fault is that?” asked Heida pointedly.

“Huh? What does that mean?” asked Kowalski.

“Oh, she’s convinced that one of us contaminated the sheep,” I replied. “Which is nonsense, since how could any of us do that?”

Heida took the hint and dropped it. She flinched again as Lilja called for her in the distance. “I suppose later is now. Pray for me, Rafal.”

“Is it that bad?” asked Kowalski. “Lilja’s a sweet girl.”

“You’ll learn better if you keep following her around,” she said. “In fact…” She grabbed Kowalski by the arm and dragged him along. “Come along, she’ll hold back if you’re there. She seems to like you.”

“Sh-she does?” stammered Kowalski as he dropped all resistance.

“Why would she not?” asked Mariko.

“Don’t read too much into it,” said Heida. “She doesn’t get out much.”

Kowalski seemed slightly deflated, but he didn’t object strongly to a chance to hang out with Lilja.

“I still do not know what you see in her,” said Mariko, once she was sure we were out of earshot.

“I don’t imagine you would.” I couldn’t very well say she reminded me of the girls back home. “I wish you two could get along a little better; the Da… Good Lord knows how long we’re going to be stationed here.”

“I am not the problem,” she said with a pout. “She’s the one who wants to bicker all the time. I am willing to leave her alone.”

“I’ll have a talk with her.”

“No, wait. If you say something, she will know. I should not talk about her behind her back. It is not your fight.”

I shrugged. “Whatever seems best.” I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice, but I didn’t much care to listen to problems without being able to suggest solutions.

I was surprised by a brief wetness on my cheek. “She definitely wouldn’t care for that.”

“Did you?” she asked, smirking playfully.

“It’s… I keep telling you, we shouldn’t indulge. For your sake.”

“You are still too thoughtful. Thank you for helping me with lunch today. I did not even have to ask.”

“I only carried in a few dishes,” I said.

“It was helpful.” She looked down at her right hand, which was quivering enough just to see. “I wish you did not have to.”

“No sense dwelling on things we cannot change,” I said.

“My arm is all I can ever think about,” she said, taking a step back and clasping it tightly. “Do you remember Bryndísar said the first day we arrived? That there is nothing shameful about his injury? I cannot understand him.”

“There isn’t, though,” I said. “Remember what I said? You get lucky or you don’t on the battlefield. You do your best and it doesn’t always pay off. Except it did pay off for you, or did you forget that you saved those refugees in Taiwan?”

“Hiro and the others did that,” she said. “I only cast support magic.”

We had continued walking without much of a goal, and my feet had taken me back towards Viktor’s pen. I decided I might as well check in on him.

“Which brings me to something that I’ve wanted to talk with you about since the Starlight. If they attack again, I won’t be able to spare them.” Somebody told them my real damn name, and I can’t leave anybody alive who does. “This is a high class of wizard they’ve corrupted, and I can’t imagine they only got two. I’ll need my focus on fighting them; if you’re there, I might not be able to protect you.”

We came to the edges of the high fence, and Viktor trotted over for a bit of affection. His breath trailed behind him in the cold and steamed Mariko’s glasses when she reached up to scratch him.

“Perhaps,” she said.

“No perhaps,” I said. “I guarantee it. That fight was awfully close, even with Heida’s help.”

“I see how it is.” The seriousness of Mariko’s tone was undercut by Victor’s trunk playing with her braid. He seemed to have gotten over his human phobia, though I wasn’t sure what he was like when I wasn’t around. She took a step back to clean her glasses and get her hair back in order. Despite that, she went in for a second round. “That is what you see in her. She can fight, I cannot.”

“Between you and me, she only cast a single attack spell at the Starlight,” I said. “Poor thing froze at the start of the fight.” I still wasn’t entirely sure why. Just how useless were the Icelandic magic schools? “The difference is that she was not trying to convince me to spare them the whole time. Like I said, battles are not won by the most gallant or virtuous. It’s who is meaner and luckier, and seconds count.”

Mariko stopped stroking Viktor. “Soren, you are being gentler than most, but you are not going to talk me out of my beliefs.”

“I’m not trying to, exactly,” I said. “I’m more explaining why I will have to disregard them, and I do not want it to be a surprise.”

A memory flashed in my mind of the fight against Brother Redhawk at the Serving Wizards’ House. The girl had fallen ten feet and hurt her ankle. Hiro had only been able to stop the metal-skinned wizard by using the last of his magical strength to break his neck. She’d been horrified, begging for the for the man’s life until the end. She’d even tried to crawl over and save him, never mind that he’d been about to slay all of us.

I met her gaze, and her dark, melancholy eyes bore into me. She means it. Every human life is precious to her. I almost wish it was simply a pose to try and dodge the draft. I can out-cynical somebody. I can’t beat sincerity.

I had expected her to try and browbeat me, or possibly agree to my terms (One can dream). Maybe even burst into tears, since I was brushing aside her whole philosophy.

Embracing me was a surprise. “I think I can change your mind. At least, I can make you understand why I cannot budge.” She nodded towards the barn. “Can we go inside where it is a bit warmer?”