The Toils (Book Two)

XI. A Certain Kind Of Vengence

Floating just of the eastern coast of Motueka, a single boat holding two people rowed peacefully atop the calm ocean.
Ruataupare gazed wistfully at the landmass hidden beneath a thicket of cloud, ash, and smoke. 
They were less than a hundred kilometers from the shore, but the risk of being spotted by the Settled Folk remained as high as it ever had. 
Not that either of them knew it, but Arihona and Ruataupare were passing the same spot where Sirene had been mowed down by arrows two days prior. 
Whatever Arihona was saying, Ruataupare had effectively blanked it all - "hm?", she asked. 
"What?", he looked ahead and over her shoulder.
"I didn't catch that last part", Ruataupare shook her head, trying to bring herself back to earth.
"What were you looking at?", he asked, discarding his previous conversation topic.
She gazed longingly at the distant coastline.
"Home".
"Over there?", he pointed.
"Uh-huh", she grunted in agreement.
"Jeeze", Arihona sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I understood everything that's happened over these last few days. Less than a week ago, we're out doing border patrol, today I'm two countries away and trying to keep Ratapu from conscripting us in a war we have nothing to do with".
"He seems like a good bloke", Ruataupare shrugged.
"Yeah, he is".
"Are you two...?", she didn't have to finish the question, her implication was clear.
"No", Arihona put bluntly.
"Right - I mean, you never know".
"What about you and Thatcher - are you two...?", he mocked her cadence.
"Yeah", Ruataupare fired back sarcastically, without thinking.
"Wait - what? Really?", Arihona half laughed, humored.
"Yeah, that's why we were fighting so much up North... She cheated on me with Rena, but I forgive her", Ruataupare tried her hardest not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of her joke. 
Or perhaps it wasn't the absurdity of the joke, maybe it was the fact she was making a joke, to begin with.
"I thought Rena and Magnus were-".
"Oh yeah, but then Magnus slept with Jim-Bob Garrison, so she and Rena were on a break", Ruataupare felt her chest burst with laughter - laughter she mustered hard to suppress.
"That cannot be a real name", Arihona laughed.
"It's as real as the yarn I'm spinning", Ruataupare finally broke, allowing her laughter to spill forth.
"Oh very funny", Arihona smiled.
For two generally cold people, they really did bring the warmth out in one-and-other.
"Well - you're so serious all the time", Ruataupare noted.
"It's a bit hard not to be", Arihona replied scandalized.
"Yeah", Ruataupare agreed, "it is".

*

"We'll leave the boat here, make the rest of the journey on foot", Thatcher pulled the small canoe up to the rocky shoreline of the river.
They were in a gully between two snowcapped mountains, stained gray with the ashfall from the volcano north.
"Fuck it's cold", Ratapu shivered slightly, pulling his sleeves closer to his waistline.
"That's that Rebury snow for you", Thatcher climbed from the canoe, securing the oar inside her seat.
Ratapu followed suit, pulling himself from his seat, placing his oar, and standing behind Thatcher as she caught her bearings.
"We probably could've gone up a bit further, but if I recall correctly, it gets fairly rocky a couple of clicks up", Thatcher set forward, her feet crunching rocks as she walked.
"How often do you come here?", Ratapu asked, struggling to keep up.
"Once every month or so, just to see how things are going. Usually, Wolesley or Grayson handles food swaps so I'm not needed", Thatcher explained, hardly noticing Ratapu lagging behind. 
"Seems you've got a good setup, if I'm honest", Ratapu admired.
"It's better than a whack on the nose with a rusty poker, yeah", Thatcher replied humbly.
For a minute, the pair walked in silence. A rock fell from a clifftop, rolling in front of them and causing them to stop briefly, before continuing on their way.
"Notice you're quiet on Waikato, though", Ratapu noticed.
"I don't think that's a conversation we ought to have today", Thatcher answered dryly.
"I'm not going to be annoyed, you know", Ratapu pointed out, "I value the honesty you've brought to King Tama".
"You know he said to me that 'he likes me but he doesn't trust me'?", Thatcher stopped, turned, looked Ratapu in the eyes, and asked.
"I can see how he'd feel that way", Ratapu sympathized.
"Really?", Thatcher placed her hands on her hips and asked.
"Well, you're an adult woman, who - to be honest - has a very intimidating aura to her".
"I find it interesting that you use the word 'intimidating'. If I had a cock and balls, I feel you'd've used the word 'strong', or 'authoritative'", Thatcher frowned.
"That's not what I meant at all", Ratapu shook his head disappointedly - either at himself for his choice of words, or at Thatcher for thinking he meant it in that way.
He continued - "you've got an aura about you, one that commands attention".
"That's something that happens when surrounded by absolute clowns for ninety percent of your working life", she reflected back on her choices the previous two years.
"Exactly", Ratapu insisted, "I didn't mean it in a derogatory way. I meant that you know what you're doing, and that radiates from you".
"Well", Thatcher coughed, relaxed, and began walking once more, "I've had no choice, have I?".
That, she thought, wasn't necessarily true, though the Royal Council of the past seemed a distant memory. 
"To go back to the main point, I can understand why King Tama doesn't trust you", Ratapu followed her, speaking with caution.
"Do you feel the same?", Thatcher asked with an air of impatience.
"No".
Thatcher sniffed, even she was feeling the cold now, though maybe that was more of an internal thing.
"Please don't think I'm like that", Ratapu pleaded after a few seconds of frosty silence.
"Like what?", Thatcher twisted, still looking at the rocky, winding, path ahead.
"Someone who underestimates people's capacity because of surface details", Ratapu tried selecting his words a bit more carefully, though the feeling of walking on eggshells made him feel uneasy.
"I don't think you're like that", Thatcher replied, trying her hardest to regulate her tone. 
"Right, because I'm not interested in that, I'm interested in the way you operate".
"Can we drop this conversation point?", Thatcher scrunched her nose a bit and asked.
"No. We can't. Because if we're going to work together in the future, we need to be on the same page, and right now, I feel like we're not", Ratapu was the one to stop this time. 
Thatcher took a few more steps before she noticed he was no longer following her.
"Alright then", she spoke as she spun on her heel to face him, "what is it you want to be on the same page with?".
"I know you think our country is doing things wrong", Ratapu informed her. 
"I do, that's correct".
"And I agree with you".
"Then I'm failing to see how we aren't on the same page", Thatcher frowned.
"What are you going to do about it?".
"I beg your pardon?", Thatcher took a single step towards Ratapu.
"You have the armies of four countries behind you, it's not unreasonable for me, Arihona or King Tama to assume you might try something to impose your views on Waikato, is it?", Ratapu asked.
His tone carried an air of true curiosity, but Thatcher could only focus on the words.
"Do you think I'm some kind of war-hungry tyrant?", Thatcher asked, though it seemed rhetorical, it wasn't.
"No, I think you're a smart, empathetic, caring person who would commit any number of unpredictable acts to make the most well-informed decisions", Ratapu crossed his arms. 
He continued - "I watched you lead six people into an active volcano, just to figure out how long the sky would be black - so I need to know, Thatcher, are you going to commit some kind of coup against King Tama?".
The reality was, she didn't know. If she'd've been asked the same question a year ago, she'd have said 'yes'. Two years ago, 'no'. Today? She had no idea.
"I want to. Okay. I want to. But after spending hours speaking with the guy, I've realized that I'm out of my depth when it comes to the Waikatoan way of life, and the reality is, I have my own shit to deal with right now. However, when the time comes, I'll let you know, so you can help or hinder to your hearts' content", Thatcher replied angrily.
"Look, I'm not trying to put you in a little box. I don't think you're a bad person - and I do trust you. I just want to make sure that whatever you do - it's going to help people, not hurt them", Ratapu insisted. 
"That's all I want, too", Thatcher eased up a tad.
"Good. Then if that's the only thing we share in common, I'm glad", Ratapu tried to smile, but Thatcher couldn't bring herself to reciprocate.


Joel stood at the bottom stairs of the lakehouses' front porch. 
The place where Ben Shultz had fallen to the ground was now empty, a depression in the grass sat perfectly where he'd been lying less than three hours prior.
"You see where Ben went?", Ariana asked, opening the front door and stepping out.
"No - he fucked off about an hour ago", Joel responded, "you'se all set up yet?".
"Almost - the Soldiers are helping to clear out the rooms, we'll dump his shit out here as we empty the rooms", Ariana replied.
"Ariana - do you really think this is a good idea?", Joel scratched the back of his head nervously.
"What part?".
"You know", Joel nodded in the direction of the house, "take over".
"Joel, you're the one that said 80 or 90 percent of people supported our platform-".
"- yeah that was before you decided to override their votes to rule as a fucking pentarchy", Joel insisted.
"Joel - I need you to hear me; this is none of your concern", Ariana stepped down a stair, getting eerily close to Joel.
"What are you going to do when one of you isn't a fan of what the others suggest?", Joel asked her.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it", Ariana put bluntly, "for now, I've got a job for you and the others in the house".
"What?", Joel asked annoyedly.
"Find Ben Shultz, and make damn sure he doesn't try any shit".
"What? Kill him?", Joel grimaced.
"God! No!", Ariana exclaimed, "Take him to fucking Hanston or something, keep him far the fuck away from here".
"Hanston is Zedeylian territory now", Joel reminded her.
"So? Find him and dump him there", she took a pause between each word.
"Ariana - are you pushing to restart The Southern Wars?", Joel frowned, asking with an air of demand.
"They're going to march on us anyway, best to have the upper hand", she countered.
"This isn't the upper hand! This is asking for it!".
Ariana locked eyes with him and drew her sword from the sheath around her waist - all without losing her focus.
Slowly, she pointed the tip of the blade at Joel's throat and said - "I'm not asking you. Find the doctor and take him to Hanston, or the next time we meet, this blade won't be outside your throat".
The pair glared at each other, both wanting the other to strike first.
Joel's heart thumped in his ears, pulsating faster with each passing second.
"You gonna kill me, Ariana?", he stepped closer to her, knowing she wouldn't spare Ben but have him killed.
She bobbed her head side to side - "no. But I'll make it my personal mission to make sure you spend the rest of the year at Cocatan Prison".
Joel scoffed, though he knew this was no idle threat.
"Send them out then", Joel looked past her, towards the door, and spat out.
"Good man", Ariana resheathed her sword and turned to make for the door. 
Joel's hand wrapped around her right wrist.
Ariana stopped in her tracks and gazed at Joel distastefully.
"If Cocotan's an option, why not send Ben there?".
"Do you want people to think this is a hostile takeover?", she asked with a smile that betrayed her intentions.
Slinking inside, Joel let out a slight shudder.