Chapter 28: The People of Gray Rock
Violet bent over the map, marking down each tribe's troop strength and conditions. The charcoal moved across the hide. She had thought the hardest part—dividing goods, setting rules, seizing command—was over. The next step was discussing tactics. Surely these people would listen.
She was wrong.
Hagen spoke first. "Frost Claw warriors won't eat Frost Wolf dry rations. Their rations have wolf meat."
Eve's face darkened immediately. "What's wrong with wolf meat? Frost Wolf has eaten wolf meat for three hundred years. Never saw anyone die from it."
"Frost Claw believes in the mountain god. The mountain god forbids wolf."
"Your mountain god's reach is a bit too long."
"What did you say?"
"I said your mountain god's reach is too long. Frost Claw comes to Water City to haul water, drinks my water, walks my roads, and looks down on my dry rations? Look down on them, then don't eat them!"
The two of them quarreled across the map. The shaman crouched to the side, muttering again. This time louder, as if chanting spells, or perhaps complaining. The blacksmith had heard enough. He roared. "What are you arguing about! Take your petty squabbles elsewhere! We came to discuss war!"
"Your Ironwood men hit my clansman at the Trade Market last time!" Eve's fire found a new target.
"He stole my iron!"
"He took it! Not stole! You Ironwood people are miserably petty. One piece of iron and you make a fuss?"
"One piece? That was an iron ingot! Enough to forge three blades!"
"Enough." Violet said.
No one listened.
Hagen and Eve kept arguing. The blacksmith joined the fray. The shaman stopped chanting and stood, pointing at the blacksmith's nose, cursing him for disrespecting the herbs. Astrid stood at the very edge, not saying a word, the corner of her mouth carrying a faint, ambiguous smile. Ulric sat on his stone block, legs crossed, watching with relish.
Violet stood before the map, watching these people.
Her fingers clenched at the edge of the table. She had seen this scene before, in Manhattan conference rooms. Two departments fighting over a budget. Three directors shifting blame. Everyone fighting. No one listening. In the end, the meeting would be canceled, the problems unsolved, the same fight waiting next time.
But that time, she had been the CEO. She had power. She could say "meeting adjourned" and then call the troublemakers into her office one by one. Negotiate terms. Apply pressure. Paint prospects. Now she had none of that power. Water City's wells were in her hands. Water City's trade routes were drawn by her hand. Water City's ledgers were balanced by her hand. But she had no authority to make these people shut up. Because they didn't think she stood above them. In their eyes, she was just "the woman who gives away water."
"Enough!" Leon's voice exploded from behind her.
Everyone went silent. Leon walked out from behind the crowd and stood beside Violet. "Done fighting?"
No one spoke.
"Done fighting, then continue."
Hagen thumped his salt staff against the ground. His mouth opened and closed. His gaze flicked twice between Leon and Violet. "Let's leave it here for today." He said.
Eve gathered her white wolf pelt. The shaman tucked his beast bones back into his coat. The blacksmith pulled his blade from the ground and sheathed it at his waist. Ulric stood from his stone block, brushed the dust from his rear, hoisted his bone blade, and left.
Astrid was the last to go. As she passed Violet, she paused. "You're not one of them. They won't listen to you."
"Whether they listen is their choice. Whether I speak is mine."
Astrid glanced at her and walked away.
The square was empty. The hide map still lay spread on the stone table. The red line drawn across it. The wind came and lifted one corner of the map, then let it fall.
Leon stood beside her. "You're too impatient."
"The beast tide won't wait for me."
"They're not ready to listen to you."
"They'll never be ready." Violet turned around and leaned her back against the stone table. "I gave them water. Gave them roads. Gave them grain. They drink my water, walk my roads, eat my grain, and then turn around and tell me—you, a woman, how many battles have you fought?"
"You're angry."
"Of course I'm angry."
"Anger won't help."
"I know."
Leon was silent for a moment. "Let's go for a walk."
"Where?"
"The small woods. You said last time clearing your head helped."
Violet hesitated. She didn't want to go to the small woods. The memory of stumbling upon Seraphina and Cassian there was still fresh. But going back to her small stone house would be more suffocating. The city wall more suffocating. The granary, the salt store, the mine—everything was suffocating.
"Let's go."
The two of them walked out the south gate of Water City. The leaves in the small woods were denser than last time. Sunlight leaked through the gaps and scattered broken gold across the ground. Violet walked ahead. Leon followed. Neither spoke. When they reached the large tree where they had hidden last time, Violet paused. The trunk still bore the marks of them leaning there. A small patch of bark scraped away.
She pulled her gaze away and kept walking.
"Gray Rock Tribe. How many have you met?" Leon asked suddenly.
"Gray Bone, Finn, Darryl. And a few who move stones. I don't know their names."
"You've been here nearly four months. Gray Rock Tribe has forty-seven people. You've only met six."
"I'm busy."
"Too busy to know your own people?"
Violet stopped and turned to look at him. "Your people. Not mine."
"Water City is yours. Gray Rock Tribe is part of Water City. You want them to listen to you, you have to know them first."
Violet said nothing.
She knew Leon was right. She had been calculating accounts, drawing maps, negotiating deals. But Water City wasn't a company. The people of Water City weren't employees. Employees who didn't respect the boss could leave. The people of Water City wouldn't leave. They lived here. Drank the water here. Raised walls, moved stones, bore children here. And she wanted them to follow her command into battle—yet she didn't even know their names.
"Tonight. I'll take you to meet them." Leon said.
"Everyone?"
"Everyone. Forty-seven people of Gray Rock Tribe. One by one."
Violet leaned against a tree trunk. The bark was rough. It pressed against her back. "Did you tell them beforehand?"
"No."
"What will they think?"
"What they think is their business. What you do is your business."
Violet looked down. The boots on her feet were covered in mud. One shoelace had come loose. She didn't bend to tie it.
"Fine. Tonight."
The two of them stood in the woods. Neither moved to leave. Wind passed through the leaves. The sound was like distant water.
---
Night. Beside the fire.
All forty-seven people of Gray Rock Tribe had come. Old. Young. Men. Women. They stood around the fire, the flames lighting every face bright and then dark. Violet stood before the crowd. Leon stood half a step behind her.
"This is Cecilia." Leon's voice wasn't loud, but every person heard it. "Water City's mapmaker. The water you drink, she found it. The roads you walk, she drew them. The place you live is fed by her wells."
No one spoke. More than a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on her. Curiosity. Scrutiny. Hostility. Violet recognized a few faces. Finn stood in the front row. Beside him were several young hunters she had seen before. Gray Bone stood at the edge of the crowd, shovel still in his hand. Darryl leaned against a tree, long blade cradled in his arms.
An old man with graying hair stepped out from the crowd. He wore an old-style hide coat of Gray Rock Tribe. A faded feather was pinned to his chest. He looked Violet up and down.
"You're Cecilia Winter?"
"Yes."
"Silver Spring territory. Daughter of the Winter family?"
"Yes."
"Silver Spring didn't want you, so you came to Gray Rock. Gray Rock wanted you, so you stayed."
Violet looked into his eyes. Clouded. But the light inside was sharp. "Yes."
The old man nodded and stepped back into the crowd. Beside him, a middle-aged woman tugged at his sleeve and whispered something. The old man shook his head.
Leon called the first name.
"Finn."
Finn stepped out from the crowd and stood before Violet. Not tall. Broad shoulders. The lines of muscle on his arms cut clear by the firelight. "The characters you taught me. I'm still practicing." He said.
"How far have you gotten?"
"Learned to write your name. Leon's too."
"What about Gray Bone's?"
Finn cracked a grin. "Gray Bone is too hard. The bones are too tough."
Someone nearby laughed. The sound was short, like a match blown out by the wind. But the atmosphere loosened a little.
"Darryl."
Darryl stepped out from under the tree and stood before her. Tall. Lean. The scar on his face looked like a centipede in the firelight. "The eastern wall you told me to watch last time. I watched. No one's been through."
"Keep watching."
Darryl nodded and stepped back under the tree.
Leon called name after name. Violet looked at each one. Remembered each one. Tor, the blacksmith's apprentice. Missing two fingers on his left hand. Lia, who kept the granary accounts. Her writing was slow but every stroke was neat. Old Egan, sixty-two years old. Gray Rock's oldest hunter. His leg was lame, but his eyes were still good. He said he could help watch the city gate. Violet agreed.
When Leon called the nineteenth name, a woman's voice came from the back of the crowd.
"Enough."
---
End of Chapter Twenty-Eight
Forty-seven people. She only knew six. Leon called name after name, and she remembered each one. Gray Bone whose name was too hard to write. Lia who wrote every stroke neat. Old Egan with his lame leg. She had just committed the nineteenth to memory when a single word stopped her cold. "Enough." The voice came from the back of the crowd. She thought the hardest part was making six tribes listen to her. Now she knows—harder still is making forty-seven people accept her.