The moon had risen high into the sky, as eight people congregated on the porch of a rather gorgeous log-clad Lakehouse, though the thick atmosphere above them refused to permit the light to shine through.
With a slight inch of swagger, a heavy-set woman, aged roughly 73, pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold.
"Thanks, Harreina", a small man gruffed behind her, latching a flaming torch to the wall as he passed the stairwell to the second floor, and took a seat in the wide living room.
Crackling merrily, a fireplace filled the room with warmth and light, beckoning the others inside.
Harreina sat next to Toff, followed rapidly by Thatcher and Magnus, Ruataupare and Rena, and lastly Eldore Greene and Colonel Lobard Hibbert.
With dark brown eyes, Thatcher surveyed the faces sitting around her, waiting for someone to speak. She was older now; her umber skin etched permanently with wrinkles formed owing to frowning with worry.
Her black hair curled tightly across her scalp, starkly contrasting to Magnus next to her.
Youthful though she was, not even Magnus had escaped the rapid aging effect that the prior two years had taken on the gaggle of people sitting in the living room. Her long flowing hair had grown much darker, now that she wasn't working outside all day every day.
Magnus's fingers interlocked with Renas next to her, clenching a little as Eldore spoke, breaking the silence.
"Thank you all for coming".
It wasn't much, but Thatcher sighed a little, relieved that she wasn't the one that had to speak first.
He continued - "I know we've all had it hard, recently, so I appreciate you all making the effort to be here tonight", he paused for a breath, taking a cigar from his pocket.
Strutting over to the fireplace, Eldore could feel the eyes watching his every step as he waved the tip of his cigar over the flames.
He chuffed on it a few times, pulled a strand of tobacco from his lips, and went on - "we've got work to do. Even in Zedeylia, crops are dying".
"We knew that would happen", Rena pointed out loosely.
"We hoped it wouldn't though", Thatcher looked over Magnus and replied.
"But it has", Eldore pushed through, "and so placing your hopes in Zedeylia alone is a bum idea".
"Shit", Thatcher shook her head, rubbing her tired eyes.
"Exactly", Eldore spoke with the cigar between his teeth, his mustache more yellowed than Thatcher had ever seen it. "And so, we need to establish a way forward".
"While we're thinking of that, can we also figure out how to get water flowing in Gossfordshire again?", Thatcher interjected.
"What's wrong with the water?", Magnus looked to Thatcher and asked.
"The earthquakes have cracked almost every functioning water-well we had", Thatcher furrowed her brow, enhancing those wrinkles a little more.
"So drink from the river", Ruataupare hissed without making eye contact.
"Believe it or not, ma'am, we've been doing that, and people keep getting sick", Thatcher cut back.
"Right, crops failing everywhere, no water in Gossfordshire", Harreina chopped in, "anything else?".
"No", Thatcher addressed Harreina directly, "everything's been largely okay on our end".
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room.
"Any skirmishes south?", Magnus asked, casting her eye between Harreina and Eldore.
"A few deaths, none on our side", Eldore replied.
Harreina hesitated, but broke her tense demeanor rather quickly - "we've had reports, from a regiment, sent south to keep the border clear, of noises in the Alps".
"What kind of noises?", Ruataupare asked seriously.
"A little like thunder...", Harreina trailed off.
"You don't think it's anything to do with the sky, do you?", Thatcher asked.
"How can it be? That's coming from the north", Rena observed.
"You never know", Thatcher shrugged.
"No", Harreina answered the original question, "the noises are localized. Some men heard it, the others didn't".
"So what're we doing about it, then?", Thatcher resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"We're keeping up patrols, but...", Harreina grimaced, hoping someone else would talk.
All of them knew this was a momentous meeting, and no one wanted to be the idiot to suggest a dumb idea.
"Is there a way to tackle this all at once?", Ruataupare threw out, more of a suggestion than a question.
"Explain", Eldore beckoned, blowing a stream of smoke from his nostrils, leaning against his cane.
"I hate the fact that I'm even bringing this up", Ruataupare swallowed, "but, two years ago, Thatcher wanted to bring the Settlers fleeing violence North, and negotiate with Waikato for land that the Settlers could occupy".
The room held their breath, all thinking the same thing.
"That's ridiculous", Lobard laughed cruelly.
"Yeah I thought the same thing", Ruataupare threw a dark glance at Thatcher, "I said it would be possible if she could find a way of differentiating between Settled folk and Settler folk, a goal I'm assuming she still hasn't made headway on".
"I haven't, no", Thatcher gave in and allowed her eyes to roll.
"What relevance does any of this hold?", Harreina leaned forward.
"What if, and just hear me out, what if we cleared out Cold Country, rehoused the Settlers, erased the Settled, and expanded the borders of Rebury and Zedeylia southwards", Ruataupare licked her lips. "The reality is, we could deal with two problems in one, clear the Settled, grow the food".
Eldore cocked his head, contemplating this scenario in his mind - "it's a fine idea, but Cold County is called Cold Country for a reason".
"I acknowledge that, but it's not as if the snow sees the border and says 'whoops, guess it's cold now', is it?", Ruataupare drooped her eyes sarcastically.
Everyone let those words linger for a moment, taking them in.
"Okay", Harreina nodded, "that could work".
"I disagree", Lobard spoke aloud, "if this plan was viable, we'd've gotten rid of this threat years ago".
"We haven't had a concrete goal in mind other than repel and kill", Toff replied, "this is something more, right?".
"We take a vote", Harreina stood, "all those in favor of rehousing the Settlers to take Cold Country for use as farmland?".
Toff, Harreina, Thatcher, Magnus, Ruataupare, and Rena raised their hands, leaving Lobard and Eldore the odd ones out.
"Motion passed", Harreina sat.
"Fine, but it's only Zedeylia shifting borders, if you move back any more you'll merely be backing up onto the Alps", Eldore sniffed, tossing the butt for his cigar into the open fireplace.
"Indeed, for now, it's late, and I'm tired", Harreina yawned, "there're beds upstairs for all of you, we'll reconvene here in the morning and sort plans for this little... endeavor".
No one spoke, all stood, yawning.
As everyone moved to the staircase in unison, Thatcher spotted Ruataupare making for the back door. Thatcher followed her closely into the chilly midnight air.
Closing the door behind her, she turned on her heel to spot Ruataupare staring at her, the feathers in her cloak ruffling slightly in the wind.
"Thanks", Thatcher blurted out.
"I didn't do it for you", Ruataupare hissed, "I did it because we're all going to starve in a month's time if we can't get food moving".
"Either way".
"No, Thatcher, this isn't about you, this isn't about what you want, you absolute ass", Ruataupare pulled a lock of black hair from her face, "I haven't spoken to you in two years, you think the first thing I'm gonna do is lick your ass and say 'thanks for the idea, it's a good one'"?.
"I just-".
"I know what you want, and I'm not giving it to you, I'm not gonna come to you and celebrate you".
"Ruataupare-".
"No, I don't want to speak to you, I just don't".
"Are you ever gonna stop being such a-", Thatcher broke off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
"A what?", Ruataupare bobbed her head a little, beckoning Thatcher to continue.
Thatcher glowered at Ruataupare sniffling in the chilly night air.
"I don't wanna say it, I've finally got you to talk to me, after nearly two years, I don't want to ruin it by insulting you", Thatcher followed up.
Ruataupare rubbed her bare arms under her cloak - "you ever reflect on why that happened?".
"I'm sorry", Thatcher hissed, it was obvious she was being facetious, "I'm sorry I did what I thought was best to save lives".
"Oh pull the other one, Thatcher, you took the easy way!".
"Easy?! You think it was easy giving up the vision I had for the future?".
"Your vision? What about mine - no, ours".
"Ours?! Ha!", Thatcher mocked mirthlessly. "You refused to see eye-to-eye with me when it counted, on The Settlers, on Ritty, and now you wanna talk about our vision?!".
"I took you in!", Ruataupare threw back. "When you needed me - I was there for you, but when I needed you, you passed the buck to fucking Ritty".
Thatcher winced, she'd never heard Ruataupare curse before. It sounded more foreign than the Maori she spoke.
"If you can't see reason on this", Thatcher sighed, "then I don't know what else to say to you".
"Fine, leave me alone, then", Ruataupare turned her back and looked over the lake.
From behind her, she could hear the back door close as Thatcher vanished inside.
Silently, she mocked Thatcher, lipping the last sentence Thatcher had spoken.
*
When Thatcher opened her eyes the next morning, she half expected the sky to be blue.
Clothing herself, she moved across to the window, half glancing at Magnus's empty bed as she did so.
Peering upward to the sky, she gazed at the sun. A brutish orange glow forced itself through the black clouds covering the land in darkness.
Voices made their way upstairs, Thatcher followed them down into the living room, where the others were sat drinking whiskey around the warm fire.
In the lowlight of the day, the room was barely more visible than it was the night prior.
A Rebrurian flag hung next to the fireplace, tucked behind Harreinas' glorious white leather chair.
Eldore stood in front of the fire, puffing heavily on a cigar, one hand wrapped around his glass, the other wrapped around his cane.
Thatcher sat on the sofa next to Magnus and lazily gazed around the room.
"Thatcher", Harreina greeted, "you're awake".
"Indeed", Thatcher nodded, grabbing a small glass of whiskey from the table in front of her.
"Good, we can begin", Harreina coughed slightly.
Thatcher observed her, was her throat bigger?
"The goals are multifaceted", Harreina continued, "move Zedeylias southern border further south, erase The Settled folk still within Cold Country, and rehouse the Settlers in the north".
Nods of agreement waved throughout the gathering.
Harreina looked to Magnus and nodded, the sounds of scribbling converged with the crackling of the fireplace.
Thatcher thought the rate at which Magnus was writing would tear through the parchment, but to her surprise, the parchment remained whole.
"Thatcher", Harreina croaked rousing Thatcher's attention, "where do the Settlers go?".
"Long term or short term?", Thatcher folded her arms and leaned back against the sofa.
"Start with the short term", Harreina put blankly.
"In the short term, we have a small village in Gossfordshire between the Citadel and South Huttson that is currently overgrown and unoccupied".
"And that can house how many people?", Harreina followed up.
"At least five thousand".
"Will it put the citizens of Gossfordshire in danger?".
"No", Thatcher replied, "it's against the beach on one side, the bush on the other. Eastern and Western ends are narrow and easily patrolled.
"Good", Harreina nodded, "and in the long term?".
"Well, that's where things get tricky", Thatcher looked around the room nervously, "but I've thought about it for some time, and I think I have an answer".
Thatcher paused for a moment, to gather her thoughts - "the reality is, there's only one good answer. North of Gossfordshire is another Kingdom - the Kingdom of Waikato. To the best of my knowledge, half of Waikato is sparsely occupied, if we are correct in assuming the black sky comes north of Gossfordshire, then we can only assume Waikato is affected as well".
"So you want to use that assumption to your advantage?", Eldore posited.
"Correct".
"The issue with that, Thatcher, is that they're going to want to use that land as much as we are", Ruataupare rolled her eyes dryly.
"Perhaps", Thatcher lulled back, "but they're one nation, we're four, currently, and if we have The Settled onside, and Waikato onside, that makes six. So, we put that to Waikato, that they can do it themselves, or they can have five extra countries behind them".
Thatcher could sense Ruataupare figuring a retort, but before she had the chance, Harreina spoke - "sounds like it might just work".
"Agreed", Toff chimed in.
"All right", Eldore sighed, flicking a swathe of ash from the tip of his cigar, nodding intently, "so how do we find the Settlers? How would you know you're not walking right into a Settled camp?".
"I'm going to be honest here, Eldore, I don't have a clue", Thatcher placed a forehead in her palm.
"Thatcher, you're asking that we walk into the lion's den, here, you need some answers", Eldore coughed on a misinhaled puff.
"You keep saying 'we', there is no we in this little escapade", Ruataupare blurted.
"I beg your pardon dear?", Harreina asked.
"This is her idea, it always has been, I'm not sending Rena or Magnus or any of my citizens into a warzone, no way", Ruataupare folded her arms and sat up straight.
"I don't want to seem harsh, but I agree", Lobard shifted in the chintz chair perpendicular to Ruataupare. "I don't fancy sending men into this blind".
"Fine, I agree, I'll do it myself", Thatcher spoke through clenched teeth.
"No, Lobard can go with you", Eldore threw Lobard a glance, "he's big enough and ugly enough to support you".
"You too, Toff", Harreina picked up, "the both of you will be more than enough to back Thatcher up".
"Is this honestly a good idea?", Magnus asked, "Thatcher's the H.O.S in Gossfordshire - if anything happened...", she trailed off ominously.
"Then there's always Ritty", Ruataupare spat sarcastically.
Though she wanted to bite back, Thatcher merely said - "fine, I can think of nothing better, when do we leave?".
"No better time than the present", Eldore wheezed, "tonight, tomorrow - take your pick".
"Tonight sounds good", Toff took a sip from his glass.
"Good", Harreina glanced at Toff, then flitted her eyes back to Magnus, Thatcher, Ruataupare, and Rena crammed onto the sofa. "You've all had a task to complete the last few months, where are we with that?".
Thatcher looked to Magnus, who in turn glanced at Ruataupare.
"The difficulty in creating a system that meshes well with the existing systems established in Zedeylia and Rebury cannot be overstated", Thatcher sniffed.
"I know it's difficult, but where are you at with it?", Harreina coughed and repeated.
"Truth be told, Harreina", Magnus leaned in, "we're no further than we were when we last met".
Harreina caught Eldores eye and nodded.
"Okay", Harreina turned her head to face Magnus, "you've got until the next time we meet. Neither I nor Eldore is prepared to keep dealing in unquantified rations".
"I understand that", Magnus nodded, "surely you have documents you could give us, y'know, as a template".
Harreina inhaled - "I'm sure there's something we could give you, yes. I'm assuming, then, that you're no closer on selecting a name?".
"That's correct", Magnus nodded.
"You're not interested in using Piquering as a name?", Harreina raised her eyebrows. "It's done well for us".
"I accept that", Magnus spoke, "but we're after something that reflects Motueka and Gossfordshires unique histories, separate from each other, and separate from the Southern Nations".
"That's fair", Harreina gave a slight smile.
By the time the conversation had ended, and the whiskey in their bellies had been soaked up by bread and boiled apples, the group convened in the grassy yard out front of the Lakehouse to begin loading carts to take to their respective communities.
Eldore loaded crates of Rebrurian wine, exchanging them for fat bags of coins plonked into Toff Baumann's hands.
Ruataupare and Thatcher silently loaded crates of fruit, bread, and clean drinking water onto their own carts, neither glancing at the other.
Sat on the steps leading to the porch, Rena and Magnus spoke quietly.
"She's making an effort", Rena whispered, clasping Magnus's hand inside her own.
"Could be doing more, though", Magnus pursed her lips, watching Ruataupare and Thatcher hustle away.
"Ruataupare knew she would be here, and she's not even doing the least to keep herself calm", Rena reasoned.
"Thatcher knows she did wrong", Magnus frowned.
"Did she, though?", Rena countered, turning her head to face Magnus.
The green of the grass was dampened to a dull brown under the black sky, Magnus stared at it intently before - "yeah, and I thought we were on the same page about this".
"Actually, hun, I think if you cast your mind back you'll remember that every time this comes up, I shut off because this is one thing we aren't on the same page on".
Magnus finally broke her gaze, staring at Rena.
"It's not just one thing-".
"I don't wanna have this conversation now", Rena growled warningly.
"Rena, you know it's important to me", Magnus countered.
Less than ten feet away, Thatcher eavesdropped, simultaneously curious at the conversation she was overhearing and thankful Ruataupare wasn't speaking to her so she could overhear it.
"I will be fifty before you turn thirty - and who's to say I would remain active as a kid aged?".
"Rena, it's not entirely about you, you know? I want to live life, too, and I shouldn't have to put it on hold because you're aging", Magnus pulled her hand from Renas and stood.
Rena stood too, her sleeves falling over her tattooed arms - "look, can we talk about this when we get home?".
"Fine".
Magnus stromped from the porch and over to Ruataupare - "we good to go?".
"Almost", Ruataupare put bluntly.
Thatcher had had enough, lifting the last crate onto her cart, she walked the few feet over to Ruataupare and Magnus and with a flit of her eyes, cast Magnus over to the porch where Harriena was now exiting the front door.
"I have two things to say to you", Thatcher said sternly to Ruataupare, who had finished loading her wares and stood sharp to listen to Thatcher. "The first is that I love you and that I never once stopped wanting to speak to you".
"And the second?".
"Thank you for taking this stuff up to Gossfordshire".
"I'm not doing it for-".
"I don't care why you're doing it", Thatcher cut in, mildly annoyed Ruataupare couldn't just take the gratitude, "you are, and I appreciate it".
Ruataupare closed her eyes, and listened to the slight breeze - "one day you'll get it".
"Get what?", Thatcher shook her head, her annoyance levels going from mild to slightly-more-than-mild.
"That the only person who didn't believe you could achieve anything was yourself", Ruataupare put succinctly, turning her back to Thatcher and heaving herself onto her horse without another word.
Thatcher watched as she did so, before turning her attention to Rena and Magnus approaching her from behind.
"See you soon", Rena smiled, bowing her head slightly.
"Yeah, hopefully", Thatcher spoke forebodingly.
"Be safe, Thatcher", Magnus pulled Thatcher into a suffocating embrace.
"I will", Thatcher spoke into Magnus's brown hair.
Without much more in the way of farewells, Thatcher looked on as the three women departed on three individual horses, each trailing a cart with goods.
"You ready then?", Lobard puffed, a bottle of Rebrurian whiskey tightly gripped in his right fist.
"Absolutely", Thatcher nodded.
Moving from the grass onto the porch, she looked at both Harreina and Eldore with a sense of growing appreciation.
"Thank you both, for the food, for trusting me", Thatcher gripped Eldores hand tightly, before turning to Harreina and giving her a squeeze.
"No choice, really", Eldore waited for them to break their hug before speaking.
"Oh, you've got choices, Eldore, I'm just grateful you're making this one", Thatcher tried to smile, but couldn't quite get there.
"Well, either way...", Eldore wanted to say something more, whether it was insulting or not, Thatcher would never know.
"Come on then", Lobard called from the grass, "let's get on with it".
Both Lobard and Toff had mounted their horses. Thatcher's brown stallion waited patiently as Thatcher mounted, ready to make her way into the wicked unknown.
*
Eldore and Harreina lay in Harreinas bed on the second floor of the Lakehouse, the dark of night quite claustrophobic.
"When do you have to go back?", Harreina asked smally, not ready to hear whatever answer might come forth from Eldores mouth.
"Should really've been back by this arvo", Eldore turned his head to face her, "but Eion can hold down the fort for twelve more hours", he smiled, a rare smile no one other than Harreina had ever seen.
"I need to tell you something", Harreinas voice grew smaller still.
"You're not gonna get all soppy on me, are you?".
"I have cancer, Eldore".
Neither spoke for a moment, the silence was as loud as it could be.
Knowing Eldore didn't have the emotional fortitude to process that information, Harreina pushed on - "it's in my thyroid, the doctor comes up to the house a few times a week-".
"How long?".
"Less than a year... Less than six months, even".
"I- uh-".
"You don't have to say anything, Eldore... I don't expect anything from you".
Again they fell silent... A deer screeched off in the distance, providing a little comfort in the absence of sound.
"We wasted years, hating each other, and we could've been doing this the whole time", Eldore cracked.
"Sucks, don't it?", Harreina suppressed the urge to laugh at the irony.
Eldore bit his bottom lip tight enough to draw blood.
"Eldore, I need to ask you a favor".
"Spill".
"When I die, there's going to be a vacuum. Everyone will fight for the chance to take my seat... I need you to make sure that whoever takes my place, that they're chosen properly".
"What about Toff?".
"He'll work with you to do what I'm asking of you".
"Does he know?".
"That I'm sick?", Harreina hoisted herself onto her elbows. "No. He wouldn't've gone with Thatcher if he knew... He wouldn't do much of anything if he knew".
"What if it goes wrong? What if they don't want to honor your agreements?".
Harreina pursed her lips - "do what you have to do to make sure that doesn't happen".
"Snow's starting to fall", Toff looked upward to the sky, small flecks of white dropping daintily on his nose.
"I needa piss", Lobard coughed.
Slowly, the trio peeled off the ad-hoc path and into a small thicket of trees.
Safely away from the path, Lobard slid off his horse effortlessly, slinking into the bushes.
"What's the plan, Thatcher?", Toff had an air of growl in his tone of voice. "We just gonna ride aimlessly till we find someone?".
"Yeah", Thatcher bit her lips and peered around, but nothing disturbed them. The sound of Lobard urinating filled the air, drowning out the sound of cicadas and shrieking moreporks.
For a moment she zoned out - could snakes live this far South? No, she reasoned to herself, they don't do well in the cold.
"Thatcher!", Toff snapped his fingers, bringing Thatcher crashing violently back into the real world. "Are we going to sleep anytime soon?".
"No", she shook her head, watching Lobard stagger back out of the bushes and remount his horse.
"Whatcha talkin' bout?", Lobard asked, swigging deeply from his nigh empty bottle.
"I want to sleep, Thatcher's not so keen", Toff rolled his eyes, tapping his ankles against his horses' ribs, beckoning it back onto the path.
"He's got a point, Thatcher, we've been on the move for nearly fourteen hours now", Lobard burped loudly, frightening a gaggle of birds from the treetops.
"Maybe if you drunk less we wouldn't need to rest", Thatcher snapped back.
"Fuck me for trying to stay warm, right?".
"No, fuck you for being a raging alcoholic regardless of the task at hand", Toff half-laughed from the lead.
"Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe", Lobard knocked back the last of his drink, throwing the empty bottle into the bushes, "either way, I want to sleep".
"No!", Thatcher cracked. "We sleep when we get home, for now, we're not fucking napping in the middle of a hostile territory".
Lobard quipped - "you tense, Thatcher?".
"The fuck do you think?", her voice quivered.
Neither man wished to prod her further, so they rode in silence.
Sitting in silence, the sound of the door in the dining hall opening caught Magnus's attention.
"You coming home?", Rena planted her hands on the table, looked down at Magnus, and licked her lips.
"I need some time, okay?".
"You haven't spoken to me all day, you've had time", Rena growled.
"Get out of my face, Rena", Magnus stood, but Rena clutched her arm.
"You've known for months - no- years, how I feel about this, why are you so mad now?".
Magnus wrenched her arm free - "because you act like it's not a wedge in our marriage!".
"You're making it a wedge", Rena put her hands on her hips.
"Oh get off!", Magnus scoffed.
"It's true, you're making-".
"I'm not making it anything! You want one thing, I want another!".
"So that's it? We're finished?".
Magnus went to speak but stopped herself...
Rena prompted - "so? Are we finished or what?".
"No", Magnus put simply.
"Are you gonna change your mind on having a family?".
"No, are you?".
"No".
"So how's it going to work between us, Rena?".
"I don't know, I just don't want what we've got to end".
"I don't want to put my life on hold just because we don't want the same things", Magnus sat again. Rena followed suit, sitting across from Magnus and looking her in the eyes.
"One of us needs to concede, Magnus".
"We could just pretend it's not there, building up resentment over the next twenty years until one of us snaps and kills the other".
"Really sounds like the way we're going, aye?", Rena reached out and grasped Magnus's arms, less aggressive, though.
At the risk of driving the conversation backward, Magnus spoke again - "I need you to work with me, here. I need you to accept that I want my own life...".
"What does that mean, Magnus?", Rena sounded fearful, speaking quietly as a few Motuekan soldiers crossed the room and exited out onto the main strip.
"It means; I want to move out, into my own house, and have a family without putting that strain on you".
"So you are finishing with me?".
"Do we need to live in the same whare to make our marriage work?", Magnus asked with sincerity.
"I mean it certainly helps", Rena shrugged, leaving Magnus to take a deep breath.
"Rena, make your mind up, we either finish and live our lives separately, or we stay together and live our lives separately", Magnus frowned a little, knowing this was a pivotal moment in their relationship.
Rena's breathing became deep, her heart beating furiously in her chest. With all her might she willed it to slow down.
"All right, if it's going to give you what you want, and keep us together, then I guess we should try it", Rena conceded, walking around the table and pulling Magnus into her arms.
Gently, she placed her right hand on Magnus's jawline, slowly pulling her into a soft kiss.
*
Under the black sky, the following morning, no sunlight landed on the ground at Pa.
As Magnus roused and climbed from the bed, she squinted, fumbling for her clothes.
Rubbing her eyes, Magnus listened to Rena gently snoring, her hair covering her face, though it wasn't as if Magnus could see it in the dark morning.
Nevertheless, she cast her eyes over her left shoulder and watched Rena sleep.
Swallowing hard, Magnus pulled her burlap t-shirt over her head, fitting it tightly.
Pants, burlap socks, black overcloak, feathered cloak on top of that.
Lastly, she wrapped her feet tightly.
With a final gaze at Rena, Magnus stepped through the archway and out onto the street.
She inhaled deeply and looked first to the east, where the gate out to the training fields was (just) visible, and then to the west, where the strip (despite being lined with small huts) was entirely deserted.
It was entirely impossible to tell what the time was. Be it 6 AM, 8 AM, or 3 PM, it all looked the same now. Even looking up to find the sun behind the black, it was easy to be confused by the moon. The best indication one could get was whether or not moreporks were making their eponymous call.
For now, if otherwise still, the air was populated only by the sound of cicadas filling the area with a monotonous droning.
Magnus gave a shiver as she walked westward, towards the dining hall, the temperature somewhere dangerously close to freezing.
Swinging open the dining hall door, Magnus gave a brief thought to Thatcher, somewhere in the deep south, surely over the Cold Country border by now.
Stepping softly, Magnus glided across the dining hall floor. Once she reached the threshold into the main dining hall, she took a sharp right and climbed the staircase to the second floor.
On the landing, she crossed the tiny hall and knocked on the door immediately opposite her; Ruataupares office.
"Yuh", came Ruataupares muffled voice.
Magnus pushed the door open and entered the cluttered office.
Ruataupare sat behind her desk reading a piece of parchment, her staff and cloak sat behind her.
"You reading that-", Magnus started, but Ruataupare cut her off, looking up from the parchment as Magnus took her seat in front of the desk.
"The currency papers, yeah".
"They're a bit rough", Magnus coughed, hoping to stave off criticism, though it never came.
"No, it's fine, I didn't expect you to write so much between getting back and when you gave them to me", Ruataupare lent a gentle smile.
"Yeah well, being so annoyed at Rena gave me the space to work on it", Magnus swallowed guiltily.
"Are you guys okay?", Ruatauapare asked sincerely, though she had overheard at least a small portion of their conversation the prior day.
"I don't really want to talk about it".
"Fair... How can I help?", Ruataupare drove the conversation west, away from the rocky waters of marriage.
"I just wanted to chat over that", she pointed at the parchment, though it was obvious there was, in fact, a secondary point to the conversation.
"Shoot", Ruataupare beckoned.
"Well...", Magnus started, "what do you think?".
"About what part, specifically?", Ruataupare flicked her eyes between both the parchment and Magnus in front of her.
"I mean... the name, to start".
"I think that's probably the part I like least", Ruataupare gave a wincing chuckle.
"What? You don't like Toi's?", Magnus said, pronouncing it as 'Twahs'.
"Oh, I've been reading it as 'Toys'", Ruataupare laughed, "I guess Twahs sounds better".
"So keep or delete?", Magnus leaned forward.
"I mean, keep, I guess", Ruataupare shrugged, "I like the designs, though", Ruataupare pointed to the sheet of parchment.
Drawn in scrawny black ink was three circles, descending by half in size.
The first one, a whole Toi, had beautiful koru patterns delicately straddling the rim, in the center was the number "1" drawn ornately, with two staffs either side.
The second was similar in design, but had "1/2" instead of the singular "1", with a weta on the left, and a weka on the right.
The last, and smallest, of the three coin designs, was by far Ruataupares favorite. Slowly, she rubbed her left index finger over it, trying to visualize what the real coin might look like.
"1/4" it read in the center, with two whares either side.
"You've done well, with these", Ruataupare smiled, "but we need more".
"More coins or...?".
"No. Harreina and I spoke yesterday morning before the rest of you woke, and it seems she and Eldore are wanting us to truly acclimatize to their way of doing things", Ruataupare had an air of bitterness in her voice.
"Doesn't sound like you want that", Magnus noted.
"I mean, we're us, they're them, but I s'pose...", she trailed off.
"So what does this mean?".
"Flag, anthem, the whole kit and caboodle", Ruataupare sighed.
"They want us to have a flag?".
"Gossfordshire too, and if Thatcher's idea works, The Settlers as well... and Waikato, fuck", Ruataupare realized the magnitude of the task asked of them, meanwhile Magnus recoiled at hearing Ruataupare cuss. It seemed she'd picked up a lot of the Gossfords speaking habits in the prior two years.
"Just to get this straight, I'm supposed to design currency systems for four different nations, and then flags for those nations, and then national anthems for those nations?".
"It seems it, huh?", Ruataupare laid the parchment in front of her.
"All right", Magnus sighed, leaning back in her chair, "why?".
"Why for what, exactly?".
"The flags, say, why do we need flags?".
"Harreina thinks it'll make it easier to identify people as we cross borders more frequently".
"Surely she knows there are more pressing issues than flags", Magnus wanted to giggle but suppressed the urge.
"She does, but she also thinks we can manage more than one task at any given time, so...".
"Right... Okay, well I guess that's that then, isn't it?".
"Magnus, why are you here? I know you didn't just come here to harangue me about coin designs", Ruataupare surveyed Magnus intently.
Magnus held her breath, before caving - "I need a house... One just for me".
"Are you okay?".
Magnus didn't want to put everything on Ruataupare but felt she had no choice given the magnitude of the favor she was asking.
"Rena and I are going to try living separately, for a while... Actually not for a while, forever. We've decided that we both want different things, and the easiest way to get those things and still stay married would be to live separately", Magnus blurted without taking a breath.
Ruataupare thought on it for a minute - "okay, I'll get that done by the end of the week when I return from Gossfordshire".
"Thanks", Magnus stood.
"Magnus, I need to see what you've drawn up for Gossfordshire".
"I haven't done that yet, but I'll get it to you as soon as it's complete", Magnus flashed a sad smile at Ruataupare, feeling somewhat vulnerable after pouring her heart out.
Without another word, Magnus was gone, leaving Ruataupare alone.
Harreina sat on her bed, alone, clad in nothing but a burlap dressing grown that barely closed around her waist.
"Come in", she responded to a knock on the door.
As it swung open, a woman of about thirty-two stepped over the threshold and entered.
She was dressed in black armor, a sword tightly gripped inside a sheath around her waist.
"Ma'am, I just came to let you know that President Greene has officially crossed the Eastern Border into Zedeylia", she said to Harreina.
"Thank you, Sirene, I appreciate you coming and telling me that", Harreina wheezed, without actually making eye contact. "Could you please fetch Dr. Shultz for me?".
"Are you okay Ma'am?".
"I'm fine, Sirene, I just need to see him", Harreina nodded.
Twenty or so minutes later, Sirene returned with a tall doctor. A little on the rounder side, Dr. Shults wore a long, flowing overcloak, was slightly bald, and had a greying beard that touched his chest.
"You all right?", Dr. Shultz asked lowly, sitting on the bed next to Harreina.
"Is Sirene still in the room?", Harreina asked quietly, barely more than a whisper.
"No, she's left us alone", Shultz replied.
"I can't see", Harreinas voice trembled.
"What'd'you mean?".
"I'm blind", Harreina confessed, tears dripping from her cheeks.
"When did this begin?", Shultz lifted Harreinas head by her chin and looked into her eyes.
"After Eldore left, I took a small nap, when I woke, I couldn't see", Harreina spoke to the roof.
"I need a torch, hold on".
He stood, and unlatched a torch from the wall next to the door.
Holding it over her eyes he noticed - "your pupils aren't dilating".
"What does that mean?".
"Your cancer is metastasizing, likely to your brain where it's affecting your occipital lobe", Shultz lowered Harreinas' head.
"Am I going to see again?", Harreina asked fearfully.
"I don't wanna get your hopes up... In fact, things are likely to get worse", Shultz said quietly.
"Okay... I... Can you help me?", Harreina spoke softly.
"Anything you need", Shultz smiled, placing the torch back in its position on the wall, before sitting on the bed, and gently stroking Harreinas arm.
"I need you to get some parchment, as I lay out my plan for Rebury over the next month, so that should I die, you can pass it along to my successor", Harreina regained her calm and spoke with coolness.
*
Even at noon, the dark sky refused to lighten.
On the beach at Motueka, Ruataupare, Rena, and Magnus coordinated soldiers in canoes carrying boxes onto a schooner just offshore.
With a break in between men asking for instructions, the trio got together in the middle of the fray.
"You sure you're good going alone?", Rena asked Ruataupare genially.
"I'll be fine, have some trust", Ruataupare gave a little laugh.
"I mean, I could bring another boat back", Rena furrowed her brow.
"Honestly, Rena, we don't need them back here yet, they're fine in Gossfordshire".
"You're taking the last boat, what if Thatcher comes back and needs to-".
"Thatcher will be back after I am. There's no need to rush", Ruataupare reassured her.
"Move", a low male voice behind Thatcher demanded, jabbing her hard in the back with the tips of their fingers.
She was wet, sodden from the snow, covered in a mixture of dirt and blood.
Panting, she collapsed, her legs felt like lead after walking for nigh on eight hours straight.
The detritus laden path seemed to be inclining, now, and she was surrounded by at least ten people - she hadn't actually counted though, her eyes were puffy and purple, her mouth fairly swollen.
The people around her had markings painted on their thighs, shabby and worn white paint denoting their numbers. Cold Country militants, she knew for sure, Settled or Settler; still an unknown.
"Get up", the man grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and threw her to her feet.
"Ib you were goin' to kill be you'b've done it all reaby", Thatcher spoke through wads of congealed blood.
THWAP!
With the back of his hand, the man struck her down. With a damp thud, Thatcher hit the dirt.
"Don't tempt me", he gruffed, throwing her to her feet once more, "now fucking walk".
Resigned, Thatcher continued up the inclining path, towards an unknown fate.
At what she assumed was nightfall, Ruataupare saw the lights glinting in the harbor at Gossfordshire.
Docking the boat at a newly built wharf in the Citadel, she cast her eye to where she knew the First House ought to be. In darkness, her eyes couldn't quite find the beehive-shaped building.
At the bow of the ship, she released a large weighted anchor into the water below, the splash sending drips of water onto her face. Hastily, she wiped herself dry with her sleeve, listening as a few light footsteps made their way up the wharf.
"Madam Leader", a youthful voice called out from the darkness.
"Kia Ora", Ruataupare called back, crossing the deck of the schooner to a break in the railing where a rope ladder dangled over the edge.
With ease, she climbed down the ladder, throwing herself onto the wharf at the last few rungs.
Standing before her was one of the palest men she ever had seen, perhaps even paler than Magnus, she thought to herself. Combed over ginger hair adorned his scalp, freckles covered his face so much she wondered if he literally burned to a crisp during the time of sun.
"There's a number of crates below deck, stacked with food, water, milk, anything you could need to sustain the country for a few weeks", Ruataupare said quickly.
"Great, I'll fetch some help. If you'll follow me, I'll give you a horse so you can rest up at the Second House while we unload", the boy said kindly.
"Thanks", Ruataupare smiled and followed him off the wharf and towards the city.
Dismounting her horse in South Huttson, Ruataupare tied him to a post just off the lawn and next to the roadway.
She'd been to Gossfordshire (and in fact the Second House) quite a few times over the last two years, but each and every time, the architecture amazed her.
The Second House was a tall behemoth of 6 floors, each floor separated by a large concrete slab spanning the width of the building.
Crossing the lawn, she couldn't help but look up, the sky lurking dangerously overhead, giving the atmosphere a rather creepy vibe.
"Wolesley, Grayson", she greeted the men standing guard outside the glass atrium.
"Madam", they nodded.
Stepping aside, they allowed her entry into the house, Grayson mumbled something about the dining room, but Ruataupare didn't quite catch it fully.
Out of the atrium and into the dimly lit hall, she turned left at a corridor, and walked down it for what felt like two full minutes, before making a right turn into a second corridor, and then finally reaching the large dining hall.
Sitting at a table with a handful of advisors, Agnes looked upward to see the new arrival in the room.
"Ruataupare", Agnes smiled, standing and abandoning the conversation she'd just been having.
The advisors looked somewhat affronted, but upon realizing who Agnes had left them for, didn't seem to mind as much.
"Agnes", Ruataupare crossed the room and pulled Agnes into a tight embrace. Unlike how she felt with Thatcher, Ruataupare had dropped any grudge she held towards Agnes, coming to terms with her view on the events two years prior.
Together, they found an empty table and sat.
"I'd've expected Thatcher to be with you", Agnes said gravely, "is she okay?".
"She's in Cold Country, trying to find the Settlers", Ruataupare sniffed.
"What?!", Agnes replied with shock coloring her voice.
"The FPA countries have devised a plan, one that requires the land south of Zedeylia".
"That land is barren", Agnes folded her arms.
"Not all of it - or at least, not all of it in theory", Ruataupare sounded rather unenthused by the whole idea.
"Jesus Christ", Agnes shook her head, "so what happens after-".
"You know, I don't really fancy talking about it", Ruataupare responded stiffly, "it was never really something I foresaw actually happening".
"Ruataupare, if something happens to her, we're fucked".
"Speaking of, how is the King Of Gossfordshire?", Ruataupare asked.
"Oh he's going to be thrilled, knowing the only person higher ranking than he, is now on a god-damned suicide mission", Agnes replied hysterically.
Ruataupare cast a wry smile.
"What?", Agnes leaned in annoyedly.
"Nothing, just good to know he's still the same lazy little lord he's always been", Ruataupare shrugged.
"I'm glad you find pleasure in knowing we're being lead by a lazy fuckwit and a suicidal maniac", Agnes's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Not glad, just... well, maybe a little glad", Ruatuapare smile grew slightly.
"It's not funny, he's drinking at least a bottle and a half of whiskey a day!".
"Yeah well, what do you expect after chopping your wives head off".
"Pregnant wife".
Ruataupare raised her eyebrows - "yeah that too".
"How's Riwai doing?", Agnes asked sincerely.
"Dunno, haven't seen him, I won't go out there".
"Right", Agnes nodded, sensing the conversation was going south she asked, "do you want to stay for dinner?".
"Yeah, that'd be great".
The snow fell thick and fast over Thatcher's shivering body as she walked up the treacherous mountain she'd been forced up.
The warm orange glow of torches started to shimmer light down the slope, and over her face.
After what felt like a full twelve hours of walking, they'd arrived at a small encampment.
Hundreds of tents created from animal pelts dotted the small plateau on the mountainside, voices whispered throughout.
"Sit", the gruff voice behind Thatcher commanded, and relieved to finally rest her legs, she did as she was told.
Through her puffy eyes, she watched as the hulking man walked past her and into the village.
The smell of cooking meat wafted toward her, making her stomach grumble violently.
Before too long, a smaller, petite figure sat cross-legged in front of her. From the silhouette formed, Thatcher thought she was seeing the ghost of Antonia; pale, black hair that curled around her face, her clothes were solid black and incredibly tattered.
"Name", she commanded, not asked.
"Fatcher", Thatcher spoke through globules of blood.
"Asper", the girl responded.
"'ow old are you?", Thatcher asked, squinting to get a better look.
"I think thirty, maybe thirty-two", Asper cocked her head, "I'm going to give you some ice to suck on to help bring the swelling in your mouth down so we can speak properly".
Thatcher held out her hand and nodded.
Asper scooped up a handful of snow and stuffed it into a ball, passing the solid lump to Thatcher.
Thatcher squeezed the lump into her mouth and allowed the cold ice to work its magic.
After a moment or two, with the ice melting in her mouth, Thatcher beckoned Asper to speak once more.
"Where are you from?".
"Bossfordsha", Thatcher spoke.
"That's - uh... North?", Asper sputtered, leaving Thatcher to nod. "Right, north... You know we've been trying to get north, right?".
Thatcher nodded a second time - "I know".
"So we're going to chill here a while, and then we're going to go north, together... You're going to get us in", Asper said menacingly.
"It doesn't need to be biolent", Thatcher dribbled down her chin as she spoke.
"That's exactly how it needs to be", Asper cocked her head, "we've tried other ways, and none of them have achieved half as much as violence has".
Asper stood.
"Wait", Thatcher spat the ice from her mouth.
"I'm not picking that back up", Asper laughed coldly.
"What if I dold you dat you didn't 'ave to be biolent to get norf?", Thatcher dribbled, slowly standing. "What if I 'ad a 'ome for you norf?".
"I would laugh in your face, and tell you I'm not that stupid", Asper cast a wry smile.
"I'b serious. Do you fink I would come 'ere wifout a blan?", Thatcher urged.
This struck a chord with Asper - "go on".