Sukina's Story

Chapter 17: Part 1

I guessed by Alsie's reckoning, my father and I were free to do what we liked now. She didn't come hunting after us. Maybe she had thought I'd have learned my lesson by now. But I wasn't going anywhere without my child.

My father and I paid what money we had left to the nice couple who had let us the farmhouse. At first, I wanted to accuse them of conspiring with Alsie. But it turned out that they'd been absolutely terrified when the military airships had arrived. The man even told us he almost ran in to try to stop the guards beating Butan in the field, but he thought he might get killed. In the end, we bade them farewell with no hard feelings, and started the hike up north to Slaro, since we had no money left in our pockets to catch the nearest train.

Every ten miles or so along the road, we'd encounter a village. Some of the men there knew Butan from his rebel days, and they offered him money and some food. He accepted gracefully and then we trudged on to the next village, hiking through the night.

We arrived at Slaro West Airfield with sore feet and blisters. It was only around twenty minutes' walk from there to Chizzini's publishing house. Again, Simpra was on the front steps smoking a cigarette, still with that dishevelled look, but in good spirits. He saw us all tired and hungry and welcomed us to breakfast in the office upstairs. Bacon, eggs, sausages, hash browns, baked beans, black pudding, and so many other delights from the capital. It smelled delightful, and I'd never before eaten so much.

"We need a place to stay again, Simpra," Butan said. "I'm sorry, but I think this will be the last time we impose on you."

"Oh no, you're never imposing," Simpra said. "It's always a pleasure to have you." He turned to look at me, and his gaze lingered for a little more than usual. Maybe if I wanted to settle down here and lead a comfortable life, then Simpra would be a good suitor, even if he was ten years my senior. Certainly, there was something attractive about this new, vigorous him. But both Butan and I knew our destinies belonged out of Tow.

After breakfast, at the dining table, Simpra handed us a copy of the Slaro Gazette, fresh off the print run. Once again, Simpra's company had gained the contract to print the newspaper. I was shocked by what I saw on the front page.

KING HAS RECOVERED A NEPHEW, the headline read. Then a headline for a smaller feature article below read, A NEW HEIR TO THE THRONE.

When I saw the child's tiny eyes in the photo, I immediately knew it to be Taka. The article went on to say that though the child was a bastard, recent regulations in Tow meant that he was the next heir to the throne. The one word that scathed more than anything else was the repeated pronoun, he. They were going to do what they could to make Taka seem like a boy, perhaps through Colas' drugs, or just masquerading the young child with a male haircut and in different clothes. I shuddered when I thought about the possible implications of this. I had to get Taka out of there before they damaged her future.

Butan came over to me, took one look at the paper, then put it down on the table and gave me hug. "It'll be okay," he said. "It'll be okay."

"It better," I said, and I scrunched up the paper and threw it in the wastepaper basket.