The Toils (Book Two)

XIII. Fractures

*

Screams from beyond the Lakehouse filled the inner rooms.
Sitting in the living room, neither Ratapu nor Ben Shultz looked like they'd slept in days.
Ratapu laid upon the couch, staring at the roof with heavily lidded eyes.
Ben watched him with fingers steepled from Harreinas' white leather chair in the corner of the room, the flag still held tightly behind it.
Ratapu felt his brain growing wearier and wearier. 
Hundreds, if not thousands of people were swarmed around the house - from the front yard, all the way around to the lake in the back yard.
"Ben!", Ratapu snapped, "This is growing tiresome!".
Ben nodded but said nothing.
Ratapu threw his legs off the edge of the sofa, sitting up.
Ratapu sat straight, staring across the table at Ben.
Ben kept his gaze locked on Ratapu, a sense of mingled understanding and agitation flowing between them.
Shouts of "justice now" and "Rebury free" filled the air.
Joel stood on the front porch with a few Rebury Armada - a thin line of defense against the ravenous protestors attempting to breach the house walls.
On the back porch, the situation was the same, with Lincoln and Clara keeping the throbbing crowd at bay.
Without warning, Ben snapped, heaving himself onto his feet.
Ratapu watched Ben cross the floor and ascend the staircase, entirely out of view.
He hadn't the strength to ignore the following events, so Ratapu too followed suit.
At the landing on the top of the stairwell, Ratapu found Ben in Harreinas burnt-out bedroom.
The chilly morning air whipped the pair as they stared down at the crowd.
The half-wall seemed as though it could possibly collapse at any given moment.
No one in the crowd seemed to look up, giving the pair enough time to slink backward out of view.
Standing on the landing, Ratapu stopped Ben from going down the stairwell.
"You need to speak to them", Ratapu insisted.
"They'll tear me limb from limb if they see me", Ben sneered back.
"I've seen shit like this play out. They need reassuring that they've got the support of the government", Ratapu gritted his teeth.
"To those people down there; the government sold them out. They need time to cool off", Ben chucked back, attempting to break free of Ratapu's grip and descend back down the stairwell.
"Time? There won't be time if you keep hiding. This place is on the verge of falling", Ratapu pointed out, still holding tight to Benjamines' bicep.
Something clicked inside Ben.
Whether it was an objective truth, or just the fact that he'd been listening to raging protestors for the past 48 hours; he knew Ratapu was right, speaking was the only thing he could do.
Ratapu relaxed his grip, watching Ben with intensity as Ben crossed the bedroom at stood at the half-wall.
"QUIET!", Ben barked over the edge.
The shouts seemed to settle, the crowd shuffling as those from the front yard came around to the back.
Ben caught glimpse of Joel near the front of the crowd, watching Ben with serious skepticism.
Joel's fist tightened around the sword in his sheath.
"WE ARE IN A PERIOD OF UPHEAVAL, THERE IS NO DENIAL.
OUR BELOVED HARRIENA, DEAD. FOOD SCARCITY. THE BLACK SKY. 
THE LAST THING THIS GREAT COUNTRY NEEDS IS A REGRESSION BACKWARDS.
SOME OF YOU KNOW, SOME OF YOU DO NOT; COLD COUNTRY IS NO MORE", Ben announced, the crowd listened, utterly enraptured. 
A few dozen claps, then silence again.
"THIS IS NOT CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION. NOT YET.
WE, LIKE MANY OTHER COUNTRIES, SUFFERED UNDER COLD COUNTRY ATTACKS.
WE, LIKE ZEDEYLIA, LOST FRIENDS TO THE SOUTHERN WARS. 
THE SAME WARS THAT SENT REFUGEES SOUTH TO BECOME COLD COUNTRY.
THATCHER, THE SAME THATCHER YOU ALL CHASTISE, AND DISLIKE, SHE IS THE ONE TO BRING THOSE REFUGEES NORTH. SHE HAS CLEARED COLD COUNTRY AND ALLOWED FOR THE TAKEOVER OF THOSE LANDS.
YOU WANT TO RID US OF THAT HELP?
YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO PERSISTENT INVASIONS, AND WARS?
I SAY NO!", Ben called out, his voice ringing out over the lake.
"IT IS NOT THATCHER WHO HAS KEPT US IN THE DARK AGES.
IT ISN'T EVEN COLD COUNTRY. IT IS A SECTION WITHIN THAT SOCIETY CALLED 'THE SETTLED FOLK'.
AND TWO NIGHTS AGO, IT WAS THE SAME SETTLED FOLK WHO DESTROYED OUR FOOD STORES.
IT WAS THOSE SETTLED FOLK WHO BOMBED THE MOTUEKANS.
IT WILL BE THE SETTLED FOLK WHO CONTINUE TO KEEP US IN THE DARK AGES.
NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR DIVISION. NOW IS THE TIME TO COME TOGETHER AND VANQUISH THOSE WHO SEEK TO DESTROY OUR WAY OF LIFE. 
WE MUST STAND WITH MOTUEKA, WE MUST STAND WITH GOSSFORDSHIRE, AND WE MUST STAND WITH ZEDEYLIA.
I KNOW MANY OF YOU HERE TODAY BELIEVE THAT I", he pointed to himself, "AM DESTROYING THE REBRURIAN WAY OF LIFE. YOU ARE ENTIRELY CORRECT. 
I WILL, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, BE STANDING DOWN AS THE REBRURIAN PRESIDENT".
The crowd did not cheer. No one knew what this meant. 
Joel's scowl grew stronger, his skepticism engulfing any other emotion he felt.
"WE HAVE BEEN SENT A RESCUER. SOMEONE WHO KNOWS THE TOILS OF A NATION STRUGGLING TO FEED ITS CITIZENS.
SOMEONE WHO HAS A MORAL COMPASS TO RIVAL THAT OF HARREINA. 
SOMEONE WHO, BY NATURE OF BEING AN OUTSIDER, HAS NO LOYALTY TO GOSSFORDSHIRE, THATCHER, OR THE FPA ELITE", Ben was cut short by a round of applause that drowned him out.
He looked over his shoulder to Ratapu, who looked physically ill.
Once the sound of applause died down, he stared back out over the crowd.
"HE OWES NO LOYALTY TO MYSELF. NONE TO ELDORE GREENE.
HIS LOYALTY IS ONLY TO YOU, TO THE PEOPLE OF REBURY.
BY THAT NATURE, HE WILL BE ABLE TO GET US THE DEALS HARRIENA COULD NOT!", Ben shouted to further applause.
"WE HAVE BEEN SENT A SAVIOUR. 
I WILL BE STEPPING DOWN AS PRESIDENT, AND FILLING MY SHOES IS A MAN I WOULD LIKE TO INTRODUCE; RATAPU OF WAIKATO!", Ben shouted with the cadence of a game show host.
The crowd erupted in applause as Ben beckoned Ratapu forward.
Ratapu stood still in place, his face continuing to contort.
Cutting his speech dramatically short, Ben left the half-wall and approached Ratapu standing next to the bedroom door.
Ratapu didn't hesitate; gripping Ben by the collar, he thrust him into the wall to the left of the door frame, cracking the rimu walls behind him.
"You wanna tell me what the fuck you've just done!?", Ratapu snarled, baring his teeth.
A globule of saliva dropped from Ratapu's lips, falling to the floor below.
"You said to speak to them", Ben cocked his head, grunting through gritted teeth.
"SPEAK!", Ratapu barked. "Not announce me the leader of a country I've been in less than three days!".
"There are two things a fractured populace will unite behind; a common enemy, or a decent leader", Ben reasoned, "now they have both".
He struggled to get free but relented when he realized he wasn't going anywhere.
"A good leader? I don't know these people! I don't know this country!", Ratapu retorted.
He was stressing, his tone of voice betrayed that fact.
"Thatcher brought you here for a reason", Ben chopped back.
"To protect you, you fucking clown, not to live!", Ratapu flared his nostrils, his breath becoming more erratic.
"And by stepping up, that's what you'll be doing. Satiating a bloodthirsty population and directing their energies where they ought to be directed".
"I have a home. A job. Friends. Once this war is over, I will be going back to them", Ratapu dropped Ben to the floor and jogged down the staircase.
The crowd surrounding the house were still cheering and whooping, and though Ratapu was angry, Ben still couldn't help but feel inspired by his own speech.


Rena and Magnus sat in Thatchers' office, eating hucks of salted fish from small wooden plates in silence. 
Staff bustled about beyond the door, cleaning, carrying food, or otherwise just working.
Magnus looked up to Rena and swallowed. 
"You gonna talk to me?", she asked dryly.
Rena swallowed and returned Magnus's gaze.
"You've made your decision, what else is there to say?".
"Tell me you support me", Magnus half-demanded.
"Why do you have to go?".
"I've got the opportunity to create a world I want to live in, why wouldn't you support me in doing that?".
"Because you'll be a day away from me", Rena raised her voice slightly and scowled, "besides, Motueka needs building, why can't you create your world there?".
"It's not the same", Magnus spoke smally. 
"No? Because it seems the same to me".
"Jorania is a blank slate, Rena, a canvas without preexisting sketch", Magnus cut back.
"So this is about the fact that it's a premade society you need to repair?", Rena dropped pretext and asked with genuine curiosity, picking up another segment of fish and plonking it in her gob.
"No", Magnus shook her head, "not at all. Not in the least because it makes me sound unwilling to rebuild my own home, but... it's complicated".
"Tell me", Rena swallowed, then asked.
"Do you remember, on the way to Waikato, the old man?".
"The one who wanted Ruataupares' cloak?", Rena cocked her head to the side.
"Yeah, and how Thatcher was... no offense to her... a total cunt about it?".
"I do".
"Like, she just couldn't understand the significance the cloak had for Ruataupare".
"Right", Rena nodded.
"So you get that, right? Because Thatcher isn't a cunt. But she's ignorant. And even though I've lived in Motueka for eighteen months, so am I", Magnus admitted.
"You're not, though", Rena scowled.
"I am, Rena. The reality is - I could never know enough to build a society based upon Motuekan principles. From the architecture to the society, I am truly blind", Magnus defended her position, "Jorania doesn't have the same history. They have no culture outside of survival - so I can craft whatever I like without treading on toes".
"But you've got me-", Rena started before Magnus cut her off.
"- I will have you forever, Rena", Magnus smiled, "but you need to understand that this is about me. About Asper and her people. About Motueka. About all of us. And I can't, in good conscience, allow this opportunity to pass me by. And I need you - need you - to tell me that it's okay".
"Okay", Rena sighed, "okay. You have my support... but we need to talk about this, properly".
"Thank you", Magnus felt a grin come over her, "and we will".
"After the war", Rena nodded, smiling herself.
"After the war", Magnus placed her plate on the table and stood.
Walking around the desk, Magnus took Renas' plate and laid it on the desk next to her own.
With the plates out the way, Magnus straddled Rena, sitting atop her lap, and swished Renas' black hair from her face.
Tenderly, they shared a kiss, before the door abruptly swung open and interrupted them.
"Where's Thatcher?!", Wolesley half-yelled, exhausted and sweaty.
Magnus threw her head upwards, looking at the red-faced Wolesley in the doorway.
"Dining Hall, why?", Magnus answered, but Wolesley wasn't sticking around to respond.
Bolting from the office, Wolesley ran so fast he didn't even notice Magnus or Rena following behind him.
Bumping into staff as he moved into the Entrance Hall, then down the corridor towards the Dining Hall.
Swishing into the hall with Magnus and Rena not too far behind, Wolesley made a beeline direct to Ruataupare and Thatcher sitting at a small round table eating together.
"What's happened?", Thatcher looked up at him, no need to wait for him to open his mouth.
"We've got a problem down at the village".