Chapter 12: Married Life - Love’s Labor

“You won’t believe what happened then.” Shianni said as she and Nesiara strolled into Nesiara’s apartment. “The rats started...”

Nesiara cut her off. “Oh. You’re home.”

Raviathan hastily folded the paper he had been writing on and stored the writing materials in the cabinet. “No work until the cargo permits are straightened out.”

Shianni and Nesiara exchanged glances. “So.” Shianni affected a casual tone, but the higher register of her voice gave her away. “Alarith said you were pricing your instruments.”

“Did he,” Raviathan returned, his voice tight.

“Yes,” Shianni said. “Said used instruments weren’t worth much. Especially when there aren’t many people who play.”

“You’re lying.” Leveling an accusing gaze her way, Raviathan said, “Plenty of us know how to play. If you’re going to lie, try and make up something believable.”

“My love.” Nesiara wrapped him in a hug, but he did not look at her. “Why in the Maker’s name would you do that?”

“It’s not important.”

“Come,” Nesiara said, putting her packages in the cabinet. “Look what we got.”

“What is this?” Shianni asked taking her opportunity to snatch the paper away once his back was turned.

“No!” Raviathan shouted to both women’s shock. His face darkened, and it was the first time Nesiara saw him truly upset. “Shianni, you give that back right now.”

“Cousin,” Shianni said, more surprised than hurt.

Raviathan was instantly ashamed for yelling. He took back the paper, not looking at her, and crumpled it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” Nesiara put a hand on his back, and when his head dipped down more, she pressed against his back and kissed him between the shoulders. Shianni slowly approached and leaned into him. He hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Shianni said. “What’s wrong?”

Raviathan sighed and slumped in a chair. “I’m sorry, Ness. You gave me something so beautiful, and I don’t have anything that ... I’m sorry.” He rested his head in his hands, his long fingers trailing in his hair.

“Gave you... ? This is about my marriage gift to you?” Nesiara couldn’t believe he was this frustrated over something like that.

“I can’t make anything,” Raviathan continued, his voice becoming hoarse with unshed tears. “I can’t buy anything that’s worthy of you. I never felt so poor before.”

How had he gotten himself so worked up, Nesiara wondered. The bride and groom gifts set the tone for a marriage, at least according to the old women’s stories, but they weren’t necessary. Just being who he was, was gift enough. Certainly not something he should even think of selling his instruments for. Nesiara took the crumpled ball of paper.

“No,” Raviathan said reaching for her hand. “Please, Ness. I don’t want you to see it.”

“What is it?”

Raviathan pulled her to him so she was sitting on his lap with her back to him. He rested his face between her shoulder blades. “It’s ... Maker it’s stupid,” he said quietly.

“Tell me.”

“I thought...” He groaned pressing his forehead against her back. “There are millions love songs and poems, and they’re all better than what I can do.”

“You wrote a poem?” Nesiara asked.

His arms tightened around her middle. “I have a tune. It still needs polishing, but it’s alright. I was trying to come up with lyrics for it, but I can’t write.”

“I want to read it,” Nesiara said.

“No. Please don’t. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Rav,” she said firmly. “There are millions love songs and poems, but none of those are mine. I want to read it.” When Raviathan sighed, she took that as assent and carefully straightened out the paper. There were scribbles and crossed out lines covering both sides of the paper, but in the bottom right corner were the lines left untouched.

Lost I was and cast away
Broken notes were all that’s left
Music died, faith betrayed
The weight of want was all I knew
From such dust a garden grew.

I hear the story of our lives
In the sweetness of your voice
In splendor of night skies
A dance of stars, fate and choice
My future found in your eyes.

Undone are the knots of shame
In evening’s night we return
In my heart you write your name
In winter’s frost we shill burn
In your light as I am flame.

My heart entangled in golden tresses
And I am free
In long kisses and caresses
No longer adrift
My heart swells, an unending sea.

In your eyes the endless blue
Where only spirits live
Together we shall walk in life
Our bodies and souls we give
My dearest, my beautiful wife

“The rhyme scheme is a mess,” Raviathan said in irritation, “the internal structures are garbage, and my metaphors are everywhere. I can’t even get a decent rhythm going. It’s ... it’s just so clumsy.” He kissed the back of her neck, and his voice turned from frustrated to longing. “Ness, if I could I would give you all the jewels in the world and dresses made of gold. I’d have a mansion for you to live in and servants to make your bed and run your bath.”

“Husband,” Nesiara turned in his lap so she could put her arms around him. “I want my song. I want you to sing it on our wedding day and every time I ask you to.”

He buried his face in her neck. “You’re the Maker’s gift.”

Nesiara smiled and kissed the tip of his ear. “Silly husband. I wouldn’t even be able to move in a gold dress.”

Raviathan chuckled and squeezed her tight. “Dresses made of silk then. If I could Ness, I’d give you the heavens, and the stars would be your jewelry.”

“Ugh,” Shianni grimaced in disgust. “Even pine trees aren’t as sappy.”

Raviathan sat back, his adoring gaze fixed on his wife, but he addressed his cousin in a much different tone. “You’re staying for dinner then?”

“I heard your cooking has gotten better,” Shianni said and read the lyrics. She put down the paper and gave her cousin a hug and kiss. She stayed there and rested her cheek on his head. “You worry too much, cousin. We both told Alarith he isn’t allowed to buy your instruments. We were quite firm on the matter. He said he undervalued them to discourage you, and after we kept yelling at him for ten minutes, he shooed us out of the store.”

That earned a laugh. “Alright,” Raviathan said, sounding less tense, and leaned up to kiss his oldest friend. “What do you want for dinner?”

“That’s the spirit,” Shianni said and went to their packages. “With what Nesiara sold today, we were able to buy a whole duck and some bacon too. You’re going to do that thing with the wood flavor and roast it.”

Raviathan groaned. “Ness, why did you want to marry me? I’m just a wharf rat who can’t even support you properly.”

Shianni glared at him. “Don’t call yourself that.”

“My family had me marry you for your money,” Nesiara said with an impish grin. “I married you for your cooking.”

“Glad to know I’m some use,” Raviathan said, disheartened.

“Oh, for love of the Maker,” Shianni exclaimed. “You’re sounding too much like Soris.”

“Shianni,” Nesiara said, “would you go upstairs and get his lute?”

“No,” Raviathan said. “It’s not finished. It’s going to sound like a bloody mess.” Shianni left, sending a smirk his way as she climbed the ladder. “My love, it’s just not ready.”

Nesiara hiked up her skirts so she could straddle him, which always lifted his mood. He squeezed her bottom then settled his hands more gentlemanly around her waist. She kissed him. “I don’t care. You can still work on it, but I want to hear what you have.”

He kissed her jaw, his lips trailing along her skin. “I know you’ve been worried about me. Never doubt that I love you.”

“You’ve been so quiet lately.” Nesiara sucked his ear tip, causing him to groan. “That’s better.”

Raviathan laughed, his arms tightening to pull her close. “My cousin is going to tease us.”

“Let her. My darling husband. There may be a million elves in this world, but I am marrying you. As you told me, take the gifts you are given in this life and appreciate them.”

“Wise words,” he said. He kissed her and didn’t stop even when Shianni came back down and started making gagging sounds.

“Ermph,” Raviathan murmured, wondering why he woke. After a small stretch, he settled more firmly around his wife, his hand cupping her breast as he did every night in sleep. So wonderfully soft. The curve of her butt was pressed against his pelvis, her sweet skin a caress along the length of his body. As cold as winter was, he was cocooned in her warmth. If she was receptive, perhaps they could enjoy each other before going back to sleep. He nuzzled her neck and felt her slight shift as she responded.

“Mm?” Nesiara lifted her head when there was another frantic knocking at the door.

Now that he heard it while awake, Raviathan realized that’s what had woken him. He kissed his wife’s bare shoulder then shifted over her to put on his pair of sleeping pants. His father’s bare feet made the floor boards creak as he made his way to the ladder.

“What is it?” Nessa asked.

Since Solyn died, all knocks in the middle of the night had been for him, the only healer the alienage had. Raviathan stopped. No one had asked since Valendrian had issued the command that Raviathan was no longer allowed to practice. This would be the first time he would be tested. Disobey his father? After all the pain Raviathan knew he put his father through?

Voices floated up, one in panic, one determined. “Cyrion, she’s screaming and in so much pain! I’m going to lose them both. Can’t you understand that?”

“Go home, Giles. There’s nothing he can do,” Cyrion said.

What should he do? “Ness,” he whispered, “it’s for me.”

She sat up next to him, her skin like a glowing pearl in the moonlight. Her blue eyes flashed in the dark room as she regarded him. “Husband. Whatever your choice, I’ll support you.”

Raviathan hurriedly pulled on his small clothes and regular pants. “Maker bless you, love.” Two shirts, his socks, then grabbing his healer’s bag, Raviathan headed for the ladder. This might be the last night they would stay under his father’s roof.

Giles had Cyrion gripped by the arms, shaking him in desperation. “If it were your wife and son, what would you do?”

“It is my son!” Cyrion shot back. “I have lost my w-wife, my sister. Do you think I do not understand you? I won’t, I won’t lose any more.”

When Raviathan descended the ladder, Giles hurried to him. “You’ll come?”

Raviathan nodded and grabbed his boots. He could feel the weight of his father staring at him, but Raviathan kept his head down unable to look at this father. Cyrion put a hand on his arm. “Son,” his voice cracked. “Don’t do this. Please.”

“I’m sorry, father.” His father’s quiet plea twisted his stomach. “How long has she been in labor?”

“Two days,” Giles said. “It’s...”

“Two days!” Raviathan’s head shot up. He surged to his feet, grabbing Giles by the arm. Unfamiliar with the building, Giles was slower in the stairway and had to hold Raviathan’s shoulder to keep on course. “Tell me about the labor.”

“Ah, well, her water broke day before last as we were going to bed. She’s had a bit of blood before that. Couple weeks. Mother said the blood was normal. But since her water, nothing. I thought women had pain during labor, but she didn’t feel anything, so I thought that was good, you know? Maybe she’d have an easy delivery. Then yesterday she couldn’t keep anything down. No food or water. But she’s bad now. Sweating a lot. Hot and chilled. Please Rav. She’s so weak and hurting. I can’t ... I can’t lose her.”

The southern wind sliced like a knife outside the building, cutting through Raviathan’s thin clothes as a butcher slices meat from bone. The shock of cold stopped Raviathan, and Giles had to pull him to get going. Nose and ears going numb, Raviathan said, “It’ll be okay. Giles, you’ve got to be her strength. I know you’re scared, but you have to be calm for her. Understood?”

Giles nodded but didn’t speak as the two hurried through the black night.

The alienage was eerily still at night with only the wind to accompany the two elves. Iced mud crunched under the feet of the two trespassers in the empty streets. The buildings and walls loomed, blind and mute, like great shadows separating them from the rest of the world. At night, with the gates closed, the alienage was the extent of their world. No shems. No templars. At night there were no thugs on the streets, only the occasional furry scavenger. Secure and separate. The single lights of stars shown, bright pinpricks, precise and unyielding in the blackness. The promise dawn gave of waking life felt as separate as the world beyond the walls.

Raviathan was shivering by the time they got to the small home. The fire was too low. Not enough water.

“He’s here,” Giles said, going to his wife.

Anise was lying on her side, panting and sunken eyed, her head cradled in her mother’s lap. Anise was brunette to her mother’s blonde, but otherwise they were mirror images with a score and five years difference. Raviathan knelt next to Anise and pulled up her gown. “I’m afraid my hands are going to be cold. Giles tells me you’re from Amaranthine,” Raviathan said in the most normal voice he could manage though the cold made him shiver. Anise didn’t seem to notice his cold hands as he examined her. At least the baby was in the right position.

“Y-yes,” the mother said. She stared at him, a stranger who was being too casual in a crisis. “He’s so young,” she whispered to Giles.

“Anise,” Raviathan said, feeling the bulge that had developed under her stomach, “how long has it been since you’ve urinated?”

“I don’t remember.” Her stomach contracted, the muscles bunching under her rippling skin. She gasped and clutched her husband’s hands.

Raviathan moved to feel her forehead and the pulse in her wrist. Sweat plastered her hair to her head, she was cold, and crying without tears. “Both of you,” Raviathan said addressing the mother and Giles. “We need a lot more water. Borrow your neighbors’ buckets. At least four. I’m going to build up the fire. The faster we can get clean water, the better. Go,” he said when they didn’t move.

When the two left, Raviathan threw more wood on the fire. He felt a momentary twinge of guilt knowing that wood rationing was necessary for their survival through winter, but it couldn’t be helped. Once a pot of water was set closer to heat, Raviathan knelt by Anise’s head and brushed back her hair. “Alright, sweetie. Everything is going to be fine. I’ve delivered a lot of babies, and you’re going to get through this.”

“It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know, sweetheart. It hurts and you’re tired. You don’t feel like you’re going to make it, but you will. You’re going to have a beautiful little baby in your arms. Now, Giles said you couldn’t drink anything?”

“No. I tried sips, but it... ,” she stopped as another contraction made her clench.

Raviathan messaged her back until the contraction stopped. “You took sips,” he prompted.

“Made me feel sick. Like the room started to move, and I couldn’t ... keep it down.”

“Have you tried to pee?”

“C-can’t,” she panted.

Raviathan took the pot of warm water and set it next the wall. “Alright, sweetie. You’re going to have to help me here. I want you to crouch with your back against the wall and sitting over the pot.”

“What?”

“I know it sounds strange, but it might help you pee. Your bladder is too full, and that’s delaying things. Now,” he said putting her arm over his shoulders to help her up, “let’s get you settled.” He helped her waddle to the pot, supporting as much of her weight as he could.

“Warm,” she said dazedly when she lowered into the water.

Raviathan tied her sleeping gown in a knot over her belly to keep it out of the way, and started massaging the swelling of her overly full bladder. “Feels good, doesn’t it.” He had to keep her weight supported, but she was looking more relaxed.

“Feel so warm now.” Her head drooped as if she would fall asleep.

Raviathan sang to her, his hand massaging until the swelling started to reduce. “That’s a good girl. You hear that, Anise? You’re doing a good job. Just keep it up, and by morning you’re going to have a sweet little baby boy in your arms.”

She murmured in half sleep, and Raviathan started singing again, low and soft. Giles and his mother-in-law returned with the requested buckets. “Start a pot to boil and another to heat,” Raviathan said. “I’m going to need to wash up before I can do an examination, and Anise needs some fluids.”

The mother set to work, but shot a questioning look Raviathan’s way. “She can’t hold down water.”

“She’s not going to get it the traditional way,” Raviathan said. “All better, sweetie?”

Anise nodded, and with Giles’ help, they cleaned her up and set her back on the pallet. Raviathan untied her gown. “Instead of lying on your side, why don’t you kneel. You can lean on Giles. Giles, you stay with her. Keep telling her what a good job she’s doing. If she feels like sleeping, support her head.”

“Uh, okay,” Giles said, and Anise leaned into his chest. He kissed her ear then started murmuring encouragements.

Raviathan took out dried elfroot leaves from his healer’s bag and ground them. He sang softly as he worked, letting his voice fill the small room with intimacy and his own calm. The mother sat next to him. “You’ve done this before.”

“A few times,” Raviathan said with a grin. “I suppose I can call you granny now.”

At that, the woman bit her lower lip. “Isn’t that bad luck?”

“Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to have a grandson by morning.”

“Grandson? She’s been carrying high.”

Raviathan shrugged. “Intuition I suppose. Let me know when that water is warm. Not too hot.” He carefully shook the crushed leaves into a narrow necked flask then added pressed cinimar root. “How’s she doing?”

“Better, I think,” Giles answered. “She’s sleepy. Will ... is she going to be strong enough? All this time.”

Raviathan lifted her gown to massage her back. “Oh sure. The best thing for her is to be relaxed as possible. Save her strength. When the water is ready, I’ve got a mixture that will help reinvigorate her.”

“Mixture? But she can’t drink.”

“It’s not going in that end,” Raviathan said and patted Anise’s lower back. “She needs fluids, and we need to bypass her nausea. Don’t we, sweetie?” Anise mumbled an incoherent response. “That’s right. No worries, Giles.”

Anise whimpered and bowed low. Raviathan reached around and felt her womb tighten in a contraction. When she started a high pitched keening, Raviathan stroked her back and said, “There, there. Try to make it low.”

“Low?” she whimpered.

“Yeah. Lower in your throat. Maybe grunt or hum.”

Giles looked lost as he rubbed her shoulder. “That helps?”

Raviathan smiled, soft in the low firelight. “You’d be surprised. Part of it is distracting her from the pain.”

“The water’s ready,” the mother said.

“Alright.” Raviathan left to finish his mixture. “Anise, sweetie. This is going to feel strange, but you’re going to feel much better afterwards. Hold in the fluid as long as you can. And then we can get this baby born.”

Five hours later, Anise was sleeping on her side with a boy wrapped up in a soft blanket with her. Raviathan and Giles washed up, and the new grandmother cuddled her daughter and grandson. “It’s getting close to work,” Giles said.

Raviathan nodded. “We’ll get that buried first,” he said indicating the placenta. “Granny, make sure she drinks that herbal tea mixture. Yogurt and bread are good for her. Maybe an egg for protein. If there’s any pain or bleeding, send someone for me. I can be here in less than ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

The two men left in the lightening sky of pre dawn. The cold stole Raviathan’s breath, and he started shivering instantly. The two jogged as much for warmth as to get their task done in time. Using wooden boards as makeshift shovels, they buried the placenta near a garden.

There was an old myth that when elves died, their souls needed to find home in order to move beyond the Fade. Burying the placenta was like planting a seed for the soul to root. When their souls found their home, they could be at peace and go to the Beyond. Gardens encouraged growth, so this was where a child’s seed was planted.

Raviathan slapped the dirt off his hands, only then realizing he forgot his gloves and knit hat. His father was probably asleep, but Raviathan didn’t want to take that chance. He couldn’t face his father now. He knew he was only delaying the inevitable. It was stupid, but he didn’t want to go back. Maybe he could borrow Lenard’s gloves. Elva’s husband was called often as not for work and spent his days off in a tavern. Give him five bits for drink, and Raviathan was sure Lenard would lend his gloves for a day.

When he started to leave for the gate, Giles pulled him into a hug. “Thank you, Rav. Anything I can do, you just ask.”

The two kissed on the cheek, and Raviathan felt warm despite the cold. “She’s going to be fine. And your son is perfect.”

A smile cracked Giles’ raw boned face. “He’s so beautiful. And he looks so much like Anise.”

Raviathan listened with a patient smile as the two headed for the main street. He had heard new parents often enough, overwhelmed with the joy of a new life. Pity Giles couldn’t stay with his wife and child for a few days. Giles wasn’t traditionally handsome, but his tired, wondering smile transformed him. His large features spoke of character, a new father, humble but not simple. His wasn’t a face for sculptors, but a face to be loved.

Every time Raviathan helped deliver a child, he wondered about the continuation of life, and the familiar emotions flooded him. What would it be like to have a child of his own? An image of her sprang into his mind. Soft baby skin. Perfect and with the dreamy sweet smell that babies had. He could see himself holding his daughter, the strength of the idea making him blink back tears.

At the square, a wrapped figure hurried over. “Ness,” Raviathan said in surprise. “It’s freezing. What...”

She kissed him. “How is she?”

“Fine. Sore, tired, and healthy.”

Giles spoke up, “You should have seen him, Ness. Comes in and makes everything alright. And I have a son.”

She smiled at him. “I’ll have to visit when Anise is better. Now that I know you have a son, I can make a baby charm for him.”

“Sweet Ness, what are you doing out?” Raviathan knew his father was upset, but he wouldn’t turn them out like this for disobedience. Some parents would, but not his father. The shawl she had around her shoulders wasn’t enough against the winter morning.

“You’re coming home to rest, aren’t you?”

“No. I have to work.”

“Love, you’ve been up all night. Father’s mad, but it’ll be alright. Come home to bed.” Raviathan kissed her, and she scowled. “You’re so stubborn.”

“I am.”

She opened her shawl to pull out his gloves, hat, two curved dock picks, and a small pouch carrying his lunch. “Just be careful. And if you get too tired, come home. I can make you agree to that.”

“I’ll watch out for him,” Giles said.

Raviathan kissed her. “You’re the best, Ness.”

“Humph.” She squeezed his hand and turned to jog back home to her warm bed.

At the gates, Giles spread his arms wide for the expectant crowd. “I have a son!”

There were cheers and congratulations, thumps on the back and hugs. Raviathan stood to the side and watched on as if he had been no part of it. There were a few glances his way, but he shrugged with an innocent smile. The guards who opened the gates looked at the celebrating elves warily.

A guard who had no chin and a heavy mole covering on side of his nose glared at the elves. “What ‘chu all so blasted happy about? That there’ll be another cock rider in twenty years?”

Lenard called, “Piss off, rat. Oh, wait. Piss. Rat. I’m thinkin’ I remember somethin’ about that...”

He didn’t have time to finish before the guard was after him. The crowd parted as the guard chased Lenard about. The elf slipped and slid in the mud but kept his feet and dodged around the small yard. It was more than the guard could do, and any rancor Giles might have felt at the guard’s comment was gone in laughter. Spying a clean break, Lenard broke for the bridge across to the south side of Denerim and sprinted. The guard fell to one knee when one leg gave out in the mud. Red faced and seething, he ran for the elf, hounded by laughter from elves and guards alike.

Raviathan gave Giles a half hug. “I think you just got your baby’s gift from Lenard.”

Giles turned his head into Raviathan’s neck, and Raviathan felt the wet of tears on his cheek. “This day is a gift,” he whispered. “Maker’s breath. Even the sun feels brighter. Likes it’s shining just for me.”

Maybe the heavy emotions that coursed through him were from lack of sleep, but Raviathan felt like weeping, though from happiness or relief, want of his own child or fear for Nesiara’s safety if that day ever came, Raviathan could not tell. Was it selfish to want a child? To put his wife through that pain? That any child of his could be subject to the same legacy he carried? Would he be a good father?

“Come on you two,” Curran whispered, his arms around both men. “Rav is already suspected enough.”

Giles nodded and joined the crowd walking to the docks. The elves gathered around him, all taking joy in a new life or joking about the guard and Lenard. Curran kept his arm around Raviathan’s shoulders as the two trailed behind the rest. “Normally, I wouldn’t go against Valendrian, but you did a good thing, Rav.”

“Does everyone know I had a hand in helping Anise?”

“Pretty much,” Curran said. “They’ll try and keep it low, but when you two walked up together, there wasn’t much doubt.”

“It was my father’s wishes that I shouldn’t practice. Not Valendrian’s. I’ve never disobeyed my father like that before.”

“Cyrion’s a good man. He wouldn’t kick you out over that.”

Raviathan didn’t answer. For the most part, he didn’t think he’d be kicked out, but seeing Nesiara this morning had raised his doubts.

“You really worried about that?” Curran asked.

“Father, not so much. Thing is, everyone knows about me. Giles is the first, but he won’t be the last. I don’t know what to do, Curran.”

“Personally, I thought Valendrian was trying to hold back the tide.” Curran removed his arm when they passed under the portcullis, and Raviathan felt cold where he had been accustomed to the elf’s warmth.

Raviathan lowered his voice now that they were in the realm of shems. “Maybe. But there are people who would turn me in just out of spite. Like Elva. They’re both trying to protect me, but this isn’t going to work.”

Curran murmured deep in his throat. “You know, Rav, there are times I wonder why we have it so bad. Why do elves get the shit end of things all the time? We’re as smart as the shems. We can be just as capable. Why are we stuck in crumbling buildings that don’t keep the cold out? At night Alorn and I are just trying to keep our son and each other warm. Winters scare the crap out of me. Every year. Fall comes, and the sky has that blue that’s so rich you can almost touch it, but my stomach knots ‘cause I know what’s coming. Alorn and I cradling little Cevin just praying the cold don’t hurt him too bad. Maker bless her, but her days were cursed when she married me, try as she might to make the best of things. We’re eating rats, and I have to hear shems piss and moan when they have to eat mutton a week straight. Dockers, servants, or cock riders. Why can’t we have just a bit of something better? And then I think of Elva and another dozen like her. Bitter as winter.

“It’s a strange thing, Rav. Takes so much to build something up, and so little to break it down. Like Anise. All that care and just pure effort into making a baby. Near a year, and that baby could have been lost at any time. At the end of it, after all those months of worry, and she almost lost him anyway. And they still ain’t safe. They’ll be scraping for food, and every day of missing work makes it all worse. If you asked me yesterday, it’d say it’d be more likely for Giles to mourn them than to be celebrating. Work every day, all your life, and lose it so quick.

“What’s worse is that we shouldn’t have to. I ain’t asking for the world. Just a home that keeps out the wind. Food that don’t make us sick. I wish my wife didn’t look so thin, that she didn’t smile to cover her hunger up. People like you and Solyn. You’re so far above the rest of us, and maybe that’s why Elva and her like hate you. You remind us of the shit we live in. That we could have it better, and we don’t. We could have healers. We could have books and be as smart as them shems. Maker, what I wouldn’t give so that Cevin never gets called a cock rider. Giles looks like he’s standing in the Maker’s light. ‘Cause of you. You change the course of people’s lives. Rav, I don’t know what the right thing is. I wish I could help you more in figuring that out. But I know what it ain’t.”