"Chain them," one of the overlord slavers said to the other before he headed down the road toward the gatehouse.
The man clamped heavy iron shackles to her ankles and chained her to the driver's seat.
Sober moaned and rolled over. He cried out, grabbing his head.
Repentance scooted back into the corner of the cart, making herself small, not wanting to face Sober's wrath.
The slaver pulled a leather pouch from his pocket. "Give me your hand," He said to Sober.
He dumped some powder into Sober's palm. "It's healing powder. Your head will feel better and you'll sleep."
Sober hesitated.
"I'm not going to kill you. You're worth nothing to me dead. Eat the powder."
Sober licked up the powder and lay down in the bed of the cart.
Repentance let out her breath, relieved. She could face him later. After he slept. When his head wasn't hurting so much.
The slaver sat under a tree to keep watch.
They would pull out as soon as it got light enough to see the road. Repentance had watched many carts depart. She was always half afraid for the poor villagers being taken and half excited, wondering what they would see outside the fence that surrounded the village.
Her father came and tried to talk to her during the night, but the watchman warned him off. "The girl has made her choice. Go home and forget her."
Father thanked the man, telling him, loudly. "I'm so thankful that Goodwoman Marsh lives and she will heal. I wanted to tell my daughter about that, and also I wanted to tell her that her mother and I love her. But, of course, I don't want to do anything that breaks the rules, so if I can't talk to my daughter, I'll just go back home. Thank you very much."
Tears welled in her eyes as her father walked away slowly, his shoulders hunched.
The village lay muffled under its thick cloak of fog and Repentance sat in the cart bed, hugging herself and rocking and wondering and worrying.
She jerked awake when they moved out the following morning with two overlords up front and Sober, sleeping still, in the bed of the cart.
Sitting up, she looked to see where they were.
Still inside the fence.
Ahead, people lined the cart trail, as they always did when the slavers pulled out. Only her neighbors hadn't gathered to proclaim their undying love and to encourage her. They usually talked about how brave the poor unbuttoned girls were. Even when they weren't brave. Even when their eyes were red and their noses were swollen from crying all night. Still, the sorrowful villagers called the girls brave.
They wouldn't speak that way about Repentance.
They'd come to curse her.
Women spat as the cart rolled past the first of the onlookers. Children stood ready, balls of mud in their grubby hands.
Sober's father stood in front, straining for sight of his son.
Repentance looked at Sober, asleep in the cart. He wasn't even going to have a chance to tell his father goodbye. She nudged him with her toe, thinking to wake him so he could see his father one last time. Nothing. She pushed harder against him, jerking against the heavy iron shackles clasped onto her ankles.
"She's kicking him, now," the newly buttoned Sovereign Mossybank shouted. "Did you see her kicking at him as he lies injured in the cart?"
Repentance shook her head. "I didn't—" A gob of mud smacked into her chin and splattered into her mouth.
When you've made a bad choice, there's but one thing to do. Welcome the consequences without whining. Mayhap some good will come eventually, but if you're stooping and drooping, looking at your boots and moping in your soup, you won't see the good if it does decide to show up.
~Meticulous Mudslide, An Old Man Remembers
Chapter 4
With a wild cry, all the boys let loose with their mud. Repentance dodged and ducked, trying to keep from being hit herself and also batting blobs away before they could land on Sober.
A dragon stick exploded from the front of the cart and the mud attack ended immediately. "The next one to throw mud at this cart will come along for a ride," the overlord driver said.
Repentance wiped her muddy hands on her button blouse and scanned the crowd looking for the faces she loved. Her gaze crossed over Goodman Marsh, taking in the pain that was clearly etched into the deep frown lines in his face. He was broken more than angry, and that cut her deeply.
Moving on, Repentance searched for her family
The whispers she'd heard all her life were louder than ever, and they had a new insistence to them.
"Cursed."
"Wicked, selfish, child!"
"May Providence look upon all your days with scorn."
Her gaze flitted past the midwife, who shook her head sadly; skipped over Comfort's scarf boy, Aggravation Mossybank; and finally, she found her sister, in the very back, all alone, sagging against an oak tree. On seeing Comfort with her dark eyes full of anguish and tears, Repentance forgot why it had been so important for her to refuse to button. She wanted to bury her face in her hands and cry, to hide from the reproach and hurt in her sister's look, but she wouldn't. She couldn't turn away. She gazed at Comfort, willing her to forgive. Willing her to be strong and well and happy.
She twisted as the cart went along, keeping her sister in sight as long as she could.
The angry shouts died down as her neighbors fell behind.
Comfort, too, was finally swallowed up in fog.
Numbly, Repentance kept staring toward where she'd last seen her sister, hoping for one more glimpse.
They followed the familiar
