“Well, he was killed in the battle. I knew he was wounded, the moment it happened, though he was miles away. I could feel his pain, and I knew when he died because the pain stopped. You’re not asking about that, Stavvy. I can see you biting your lips. Morgot told you not to ask, but I’ll tell you. It’s something some of us servitors have. We call it the long-feel or the time-feel. Not all of us have it, not even most. But some of us do.”
“Just servitors?” she whispered. “Not warriors?”
“Let’s put it this way. I don’t know of anyone who has this—this whatever it is—who stays in the garrison. If the rank and file notice it, and sometimes it’s hard not to let them notice, they don’t like it. And the officers don’t trust it. Well, at any rate, Cornus’ death weighed on me. I hadn’t thought to ask before, but I asked then what the war was about. Why had we gone to battle with Annville? And the officers told me something about the Abbyville garrison having insulted our garrison, or our town, or maybe our garrison monument.”
“Insulted how?”
“I don’t know. There was some talk about some of our men being ambushed and killed, but nothing sure. So far as I could tell, no woman’s life was ever in danger. Abbyville wasn’t in danger, and neither was Annville. But we went to war, and a lot of the garrison got killed.”
“And that made you decide to come back?”
“No, not just that. You know, in garrison you spend about a quarter of your time doing drill or mock battle, then some time is spent on maintenance of equipment and grounds, but most of it goes to games. In Abbyville it wasn’t body-ball, the way it is here. Battle-ball was our game. Every century had a team, then the winning centuries played off against each other. Twelve men to a team, goals at each end of the field with a gate at the center, the idea is to get the ball through the gate and the opposing guards and into the goal.”
“I know more or less what it is.”
“Well, it was just like war. People didn’t usually get killed playing battle-ball, but they did get hurt, and the winning team had all kind of honor and recognition. Let me tell you, if you were a great battle-ball player and a war came along, depend on it, your Commander would put you right in the rear of the battle—or find something else for you to do entirely. No Commander wanted his star players wounded or killed. And at the end of the year, when it came down to two teams, there wasn’t a man in garrison who didn’t wear the colors of one or the other team. And there’d be drinking and fights. It was just like war, all over again, only more so because the men cared more about how it came out. I mean, wars didn’t happen that often, but there was the battle-ball series every year!”
“Did you play it?”
“Play it? Hell, Stavia, I was a star gatesman. I was so good my centurion put me on messenger duty just so I wouldn’t get hurt in arms practice. I was good at the game because I always knew just who was going to do what, and where the ball was coming from. I just knew….”
She stared at him, trying to understand.
“Don’t you see, Stavia? When all the games were played, nothing had changed. If my team won or lost, nothing was better or worse. If I won, I got ribbons to wear and everybody drank to me and we all got drunk. If I lost, nobody drank to me but we still all got drunk. Either way, nothing was different. The sun came up the next day, same as always. The river went on running. The rain came down, just like always. Night came, stars came out, men went up on the armory roof courting, women made assignations, babies were born, little boys came to their warrior fathers, and nothing changed. Corny died and nothing changed. Oh, he got a hero’s burial. They gave his honors to one of the boys to carry when his century paraded. The trumpets cried and people wept, the whole thing, but he was dead. It wasn’t until they put me on messenger duty I really figured it all out, but once I’d figured that out, I came back to Women’s Country.”
“Did they hiss at you?”
“Oh yes. They did indeed. They hissed and somebody threw rocks, but I just kept walking. Then, after I got here, I moped around for about a month while they were testing me to see what I might be good at. They said there was an opening here, so I chose to come to Marthatown.”
“And you began to study?”
“That’s right. Began at the beginning, as they say. In the servitors’ school. All warriors learn is how to read and write and sing and do a bit of arithmetic. Servitors have to start over. Though we do have it a little easier than you women. Since we get a late start, we’re allowed to specialize.”
“And you specialized in medicine.”
“I had to learn something that would change things. I became a medical assistant, and met Morgot, and ended up in her house. Because of Corny.”
“Returners don’t have to learn a craft, do they? Or an art?”
“Oh, we can, if we like. I have an art, you know? One of the mysteries.” He made a comic face.
“I’ve never
