E Stricker - The Almanac

“You probably have noticed that I have kept families together,” he said. He paused and studied the crowd. As he had expected, there were mixed reactions. Charlie and Leya still had smiles on their faces. He wondered if it was his imagination, but their smiles now appeared a little strained. Others were making no attempt to hide their displeasure.

He had assigned Impiri to food preparation and Sabelle along with her. He had not wanted it to be Sabelle’s task, but Impiri was undisputedly one of the best cooks in the village. Predictably, Impiri looked furious, though he had tried to pick something she would be good at and enjoy. Sabelle was not meeting his gaze at all.

“The wisdom of the Almanac has guided me in the best way. I know that we are just starting out, and some things may need to change as we go. Everyone will need to be patient until we get it right,” he said. Impiri glared even more sharply but miraculously held her tongue.

Those who were already Patrollers had kept their jobs and would hunt, and now some of them would become Conna’s Enforcers. Their families would be gatherers. Besides himself and Conna, who were Leader and Second, there were few exceptions to the family units. Samuel was one of them, as he did not have a family. Conna had pointed out that if everyone survived each year, and more people were born, the village could double in size. There would be plenty of people to take over for Samuel eventually. Maybe they would even need a whole family of Healers to take care of everyone by then.

This was a compelling thought. When Illya had heard it, his mind had spun into wild calculations, and the real magnitude of what they were doing hit him. The small problems they dealt with now were nothing compared to the scope of it.

“I think that families are… one of the best things we have,” he said, trying to find a way to explain.

It wasn’t enough. The villagers needed to understand why it had to be this way, to feel the excitement he felt. He looked at Sabelle, who was still staring at the ground, and his voice froze in his throat.

Conna jumped up beside him.

“We have to do what is necessary. Everyone has to make sacrifices. Report to your new jobs after the morning meal tomorrow. Hunters, gatherers, you know what to do. Food preparation to the central fires, child-watchers and children under five winters to the stone house, other groups to this field. The Leader will be here to tell each of the new groups how to proceed,” Conna said, raising his eyebrows at Illya, apparently waiting for confirmation.

Illya swallowed. “There is deer left, and the Patrollers have been out today to gather. We will feast to celebrate!” he said.

The people began to trickle towards the central fire, looking diminished. It should have been a time full of joy. Elias’ imprisonment had set a sober cast on the day, but Illya knew some of it was because of his changes.

Impiri walked ahead of him.

It appeared that she was going to cooperate to avoid being locked up. He frowned. No matter what kind of face she put on, he couldn’t trust her. But she had pointed out the water problem early on. He really should thank her no matter what her intentions had been. If no one had thought of it, it could have turned into a disaster.

“Impiri,” he called and increased his pace to catch up with her.

“What?” she snapped, turning around. “I assume I have to cook this feast we are all going to eat now?”

“No… it’s not that,” Illya said, holding up his hands. “It’s late, we’ll all work together to cook tonight.” He glanced at Sabelle, who had stopped and was watching them.

“How did you know about the water?”

IMPIRI STARED AT him for a long time. Illya held her gaze. His face felt hot and prickly. A drop of sweat ran down the center of his back. Finally, she spoke.

“And if I don’t tell you what I know, are you going to have me locked up like you locked up my husband?”

It was more than a little galling to ask Impiri for help after all she had done to stop him. But he knew that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by making her angrier than she already was.

“I could use your help,” Illya said.

“Why should I help you?”

Sabelle came closer and put her hand on Impiri’s arm.

“He is trying to help all of us, Mother,” she said, and she gave him the smallest smile. Suddenly, he felt warm all the way to his toes. He smiled back.

“That’s enough of that.” Impiri grabbed Sabelle by the wrist. She stormed away from him down the path, pulling her daughter with her. Illya caught snatches of the words she said as they went.

“Foolish girl… locked up your father… bring us all to ruin, mark me… just because you like a boy…“

He stood still in the path, grinning idiotically. Ahead of him, there was nothing but problems. He had no idea what to do about the water. The last thing Impiri wanted to do was tell him what she knew.

Tomorrow, the villagers would go to work in their new jobs, and he was sure that most of them would hate him by the end of the day, and Conna’s new Enforcers were another thing altogether.

His whole life seemed fraught with troubles, but Illya thought that he felt better just then than he ever had. He whispered the words back to himself, to hear them again.

“Just because you like a boy.”

The watering problem was made immeasurably worse when Illya discovered a passage in the book that instructed the ground be kept damp until the seeds had sprouted and the plants were “well established.” This turned out to be a massive amount of work, relieved only after the sun went down at night. To make matters worse, spring shifted to summer that year earlier than anyone could remember it. The rains stopped as if someone had put a cork in the sky. The sun began to beat down with real heat only a few days after the seeds had been placed in the ground. He was forced to pull people off all non-essential tasks just to carry enough water.

Because that included everything that wasn’t food-gathering, this turned out to be most of the villagers. Unfortunately, it included Impiri and Sabelle.

Impiri lugged skins of water along with the rest of them. While she said nothing, she made no secret of her feelings, scowling at him at every chance. Perhaps, Illya thought, she was just waiting for a disaster, a sign that the curses she had predicted had come to pass.

In spite of the hardship, the field stayed watered. He hoped that the plants would sprout any day. It was hard to measure work when it evaporated, but Illya took each day without a catastrophe as a victory and a good omen. He told the people so, keeping them going with praise and desperation, holding out for something to happen, a sign to show them all they were doing the right thing. Then, as if in defiance of Impiri’s predictions, there was a real stroke of luck.

Benja had spent a few days setting up a new network of traps along the river. It had been natural to Illya to make him a hunter. It was Benja, though, who had the foresight to spend his time hunting fish.

The immediate worry of starvation had receded with Conna’s deer, but even that would only last so long. Now, because of Benja’s traps, they caught the steelhead salmon run as it swept up the river past the village. There would be enough for everyone to eat and plenty left over to smoke over the fires to preserve for the winter. It was just what they needed; a reason for celebration and a good omen all at once.

The air was thick with smells and sounds as Illya made his way to the central fires that night. Precious fat was rendered from the salmon skins and bubbled and popped as it ran into clay pots. The women who had been given the afternoon off from watering to prepare the feast filleted the fish efficiently and dropped the pieces into the fat to sizzle and spit.