Side Dish

Chapter Two

The back of Tor's neck itched - maybe he'd finally gotten just enough sun. He spent so much time outside, it rarely bothered him, but today, things back there felt a little crispy. Maybe it was all the excitement with the sliver - nothing like that usually happened here in Macellum.

As the sun hugged the horizon, just over the edge of the grain fields where the threshers gathered the wheat for Millman Ben's flour, the final work horn sounded. Tor felt the low, subterranean sound more than heard it, but as it rumbled his bones, he leaned away from the mill handle and let the stone come to a rolling stop.

Ben shuffled up to Tor and unlocked the tether end of the bull's collar. "I wish we didn't have to use these, Tor. I know you wouldn't go anywhere."

"Where?" Tor asked.

"Exactly. You're too good a worker to do anything stupid like that." Ben tugged on Tor's collar and got the big man moving. "I have to say, Tor, I sure am going to miss having you around here."

"You too," Tor said. "Gate Day tomorrow."

"Yeah, Gate Day," Ben said. "Damn shame. But who am I to go against the grain?"

Tor shook his head. "We mill grain."

Ben smiled. "Yeah, bud, we do. We mill a shitload of grain."

"You okay?" Tor asked.

Ben said nothing. He opened the gate leading out of the mill yard onto the main thoroughfare. He clipped Tor's tether onto the main line running the length of the entire farm and gave the bull one last thump on the shoulder.

"Such a waste," Ben sighed. "You keep your chin up out there, Tor, you hear me?"

"Okay, Millman Ben." The main line chugged along, dragging Tor with it. He couldn't stand in one place for long or the collar would give him a warning. Two warnings and it was a punishment. He'd only been punished by his collar once, when he was twelve. That was one time more than enough to keep Tor in line ever since.

He marched ahead, careful to keep his pace up to avoid setting the collar off. Past the mills was the packing district, and more bulls and cows joined the line as their handlers clipped their tethers onto the line.

"Hi, Tor." A short cow with black hair shuffled into place right beside Tor. She was Connie, and she lived one paddock down from Tor's.

"Hi, Connie." Tor flashed a smile at her without meaning to–the handlers frowned upon that sort of thing. Tor had watched his paddock-mate Len smile at two cows in the same walk line. Len got punished so hard he threw up all over himself. Lucky for Len, he got his Gate Day bumped up to the next day, so it wasn't all bad.

Len didn't get his Gate Day Eve party. Tor still felt bad about that, and his own party was supposed to happen in a few hours, and he'd been looking forward to it for as long as he could remember.

Connie smiled back, a dangerous move. Tor lowered his eyes and shut the conversation down. He didn't need to look up again to know Connie was hurt. One day she'd get it. Her Gate Day was still a few months away, and if she had to skip her party because of some ill-timed smiles, she might not be too happy about it.

Tor trudged along in silence, one foot in front of the other as all the other sections of Macellum clipped their bulls and cows to the main line. Friends from his paddock and dwin he only knew in passing trickled out of the waterworks, the feed bar, and the lunging bay.

Just before Tor got to his home paddock, he stopped and stared at the place he'd been waiting for his entire life. The Gate stood at the top of a long set of ornate stairs, two giant metal doors that only opened inwards. Every day he stopped for just a moment, only long enough to not get collared. He couldn't help it. Pushing the millstone with Millmen Ben was all he'd ever known, but the Gate drew him in, and whatever lay beyond those doors, he knew it would change his life forever.

His collar buzzed, just enough of a jolt to shake out the daydreams. He picked up his pace and back in step with the line. The collar zap was never a pleasant experience, no matter what intensity they set it at.

Tor's home was the next paddock on his right. A high fence stretched high above, twice as tall as any bull, and that was saying something if it was Jute from the lunging bay. Jute was the biggest dwin Tor had ever seen – Tor went to Jute's Gate Day Eve part just a few weeks ago. Jute was a good bull.

A handler Tor didn't know yet checked the collar and guided him through the fence into his home paddock. The handler unclipped the tether and the collar buzzed off. Tor breathed a sigh of relief – the paddock was the only place where the dwin weren't under the constant threat of punishment. They were allowed to just live in here, as long as they didn't get too wild.

"Tor!"

An old cow, Corvus, stomped up and gave Tor a huge hug. The handlers didn't care if that sort of thing went on in the paddock.

"You look like shit, Tor!" Corvus stepped back and looked Tor over. "What the hell did they do to you?"

"Aw, Corvus, nothing." Tor rubbed his arm where the sliver had stuck. "Good day."

"Good day, my ass," Corvus said. "A good day in Macellum is a bad day in Hell."

Tor didn't want to say anything about his sliver. Corvus would worry, and then Tor might not get his Gate Day Eve party.

"Never mind, Tor, never mind." Corvus waved a hand in front of her face as if her thoughts were pesky flies. "You coming to read tonight?"

Tor froze. In all the excitement of the day, with the sliver and Connie's smiles, his Gate Day tomorrow – he'd completely forgotten about his nightly reading lesson with Corvus.

"Corvus, I can't go," Tor said. "Gate Day."

"I know it's your Gate Day tomorrow," Corvus said. "It's all you talk about. And it's why you have to come read with me tonight. We're so close."

"Close to what?" Tor asked.

"You reading, you dumb bull!" Corvus shook her head. "I promise, it'll all make sense once you get it."

"Maybe it's bad," Tor said. "No one else reads."

"That doesn't mean it's bad," Corvus said. "It's dangerous, yes, but that doesn't mean it's bad. Promise me you'll be there tonight. One last lesson before Gate Day."

Corvus never got her Gate Day, and she was far older than any other bull or cow Tor had ever seen. Most cows went to the calving grounds, and had their Gate Days early on, but Corvus had been kept on for longer than Tor had been alive. She wasn't even one of the Great bull's litter – and he'd been siring dwin for years.

"You know I don't have long left in Macellum," Corvus said. Her cloudy eyes searched Tor's. "I won't even have a Gate Day. Make an old woman happy."

Tor hissed. "Don't say that!"

"What?" Corvus shrugged, but Tor knew she was fully aware of what she said. She was the smartest dwin Tor knew.

"Get in trouble with that word." Tor dropped his voice to below a whisper. "Woman."

Corvus laughed. "I am too old to care about what happens to me, but I don't want you getting in any trouble before your Gate Day! I'll behave myself. Now, go. Enjoy your Gate Day Eve party. Come see me later tonight. I've got something new for you to read. It'll blow your mind."

Tor turned to see the younger dwin setting up the circle for the Gate Day Eve party, something they did nearly every night. A few glanced over at him, flashing a smile his way. He'd been to a thousand of these parties, but knowing this was his party made it all the more exciting. He turned back to say goodbye to Corvus, but she was already gone.