AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"No, it was her last name. I lost her to a fever, after she gave birth to my son. Two years after that some Southern Command Johnny shot Big Joke dead from ambush. He had been out hunting. I tried to understand. A Grog in the borderlands poking around with a crossbow. If I didn't know better, I'd shoot first and ask questions later myself. But y'all got to start knowing better."
"How's that?"
"Your Southern Command. Old thinking. Maybe it's because it was built by a bunch of military types. They're trying to preserve a past, not create a future. The Grogs are here, and they're here to stay. I'm sure there are hundreds of thousands, if not millions, by now. Seems a long way off, but if we ever do win, what'll we do with 'em? Kill 'em all? Not likely. Put 'em on reservations? Good luck."
"Southern Command is trying to stay alive," Valentine said. He silently agreed with Steiner about Southern Command, but he could not publicly criticize it, especially in front of Bozich. "They don't have the luxury of looking too far ahead."
"Not that living with Grogs is easy. They have a lot of fine qualities, but their brains work different. They're the most day-by-day thinkers you ever saw. If they plan three days ahead, it's an act of genius. How'd you like to wake up every morning surprised? That's what they do, in a way. Though they're smart enough at solving a problem once they understand it. You two hungry?"
"Yes, sir," Bozich said, turning from the sight of Grog children playing with a young dog. Valentine looked out; the Grogs were mimicking the dog's behavior, gamboling on all fours and interacting with it through body posture better than a human child could.
Steiner took them in to the dim house. The homemade furniture had a rough-and-ready look, though someone with some skill with a needle had added cushions.
"Sorry it's dark. We save kerosene, and anyway it just heats the place up." Steiner rekindled the fire and placed a pot from the cool-room on the stove.
"Hope you like gumbo. It's the staple here. The rice-flour buns are pretty good."
Steiner offered them a basin to wash in while the stew heated.
"I get the impression you're responsible for more than just this settlement."
The redhead laughed. "I'm still trying to figure out how that happened. Once this place got going, and we had wagons going up to Pine Bluff and back, some of the other smallholders started tailing along. With them and the Grogs guarding our wagons, it made quite a convoy. We have some great stonecutters and craftsmen here, and the locals just started trailing in, especially once we got the mill going. They started coming to me for advice, and the next thing I knew I was performing weddings and deciding whose lambs belonged to whom."
"King Steiner?"
"The thought's crossed my mind. Seems like the worry isn't worth it, but then when you get a baby or two named after you, it appears in a different light."
It occurred to Valentine that Steiner hadn't mentioned his son. He had already pressed the man on the sorrow involving his wife, and the grief in his eyes then made him hold his tongue now.
The food went into wooden bowls, and the Wolves scooped the spicy gumbo into their mouths using one rice-flour bun after another.
"Guess they call you Wolves 'cause of how y'all eat," Steiner said.
"Ain't the first time someone's said that," Bozich laughed, gumbo coating her lips.
Valentine finished his meal and helped his host clean off the dishes.
"Steiner, if you don't want to live under the Free Territory, how about you live with it?"
"With it?"
"Like an alliance."
Steiner shook his head. "What do I need Southern Command for? We do all right by ourselves."
"You might need guns and ammunition."
"We make our own shells and shot. Better than yours, mostly."
"Someday this swamp might find itself with a Kurian column in it. What then?"
"They'd lose more than they'd gain taking this place."
"We could give you a radio, and Southern Command would answer a call for help in this part of Arkansas. Anything coming through here is on its way to us."
The redhead looked doubtful, then shook his head. "Don't want a garrison, thanks."
"No garrison. We could build a hospital... well, health center anyway. A full-time, trained nurse and a doctor. Not just for here, but for all the farms in the area. Might mean a few less crosses in your cemetery. You could do even more for these people, if you'll just give the okay."
