Soul of the Fire

Beata wiped her nose and then sidestepped to make way for a wagon foiling toward the gateway. It looked a big place. At the same time, it looked lonely, all by itself out in the windswept middle of nowhere, sitting up on its own low hill. The gate through the bulwark appeared the only way in, except straight up the steep earthwork ramparts.

As soon as the wagon went by, Beata followed it through the tall gates and into the bailey. People were bustling about everywhere. It was like a town inside the gates. It surprised her to see so many buildings, with streets and alleyways between them.

A guard just inside finished talking to the wagon driver and waved him on. He turned his attention to Beata. He gave her a quick glance up and down, not showing anything of what he might be thinking.

"Good day."

He used the same tone as he used with the wagon driver-polite but businesslike. There were more wagons coming up behind her and he was busy. She returned the greeting in kind.

The dark Ander hair at his neck was damp from sweat. It was probably hot in his heavy uniform. He lifted a hand and pointed.

"Over there. Second building on the right." He gave her a wink. "Good luck."

She nodded her thanks and hurried between horses, before they closed up and she'd have to go all the way around. She narrowly missed stepping in fresh manure with her bare feet. Crowds of people were going in every direction. Horses and wagons made their way up and down the streets. It smelled of sweat, horses, leather, dust, dung, and the new wheat growing all around.

Beata had never been anyplace but Fairfield before. It was intimidating, but it was also exciting.

She found the second building on the right easy enough. Inside an Ander woman was sitting behind a desk writing on a rumpled, well-used piece of paper. She had a whole stack of papers to one side of her desk, some well worn and some fresh-looking. When the woman looked up, Beata curtsied.

"Afternoon, dear." She gave Beata a look up and down, as the guard had done. "Long walk?"

"From Fairfield, ma'am."

The woman set down her dipping pen. "Fairfield! Then it was a long walk. No wonder you're covered in dust."

Beata nodded. "Six days, ma'am." A frown crept onto the woman's face. She looked to be a woman who frowned a lot. "Why did you come here, then, if you're from Fairfield? There were any number of closer stations."

Beata knew that. She didn't want a closer station. She wanted to be far away from Fairfield. Far away from trouble. Inger had told her to come here, to the twenty-third.

"I worked for a man named Inger, ma'am. He's a butcher. When I told him what I wanted, he said he'd been here and knew there to be good people here. It was upon his counsel I came here, ma'am."

She smiled with one side of her mouth. "Don't recall a butcher named Inger, but he must have been here, because he's right about our people here."

Beata set down her bag and pulled out the letter. "Like I said, he counseled I come here, ma'am."

He counseled her to get far away from Fairfield, and this place was. She feared stepping closer to the desk, so she leaned forward and stretched to hand her precious letter to the woman.

"He sent this letter of introduction."

The woman unfolded the letter and leaned back to read it. Watching her eyes going along each line, Beata tried to remember Inger's words. She "was sorry to find the exact words fading. It wouldn't be long before she recalled only the main thrust of Inger's words.

The woman set down the letter. "Well, Master Inger seems to think a great deal of you, young lady. Why would you want to leave a job where you got along so well?"

Beata hadn't been expecting to have anyone ask her why she wanted to do this. She thought briefly, and quickly decided to be honest, but not too honest.

"This has always been my dream, ma'am. I guess that a person has to try out their dream sometime. No use in living your life and never trying your dream."

"And why is it your dream?"

"Because I want to do good. And because the Mi… the Minister made it so, women would be respected here. So they'd be equal."

"The Minister is a great man."

Beata swallowed her pride. Pride did a person no good; it only held them back.

"Yes, ma'am. He is. Everyone respects the Minister. He passed the law allowing Haken women to serve along with the Ander men and women. That law also says all must show respect to those Haken women who serve our land. Haken women owe him a great debt. Minister Chanboor is a hero to all Haken women."

The woman regarded her without emotion. "And you had man trouble. Am I right? Some man wouldn't keep his 'hands off you, and you finally had enough and finally got up the courage to leave."

Beata cleared her throat. "Yes, ma'am. That's true. But what I told you about this always being my dream is true, too. The man just decided it for me sooner, that's all. It's still my dream, if you'll have me."

The woman smiled. "Very good. What's your name, then?"

"Beata, ma'am."