Page 119 of The Enemy's Daughter

He continues standing there, and Tristan reluctantly loosens his hold, then drops his forehead to mine.

“Well, since you’re done. Can we go?” Henshaw asks.

After over two hours of riding, we arrive in Hanook to Caro yelling at some soldiers. “You two, on your horses. Yes, you! There are six buckets here that need filling up. To the top—none of this half-bucket nonsense, either.”

She turns and spots us. Her fists land on her thin hips. “You’re here,” she says with a tight grin. Not pleasant, but not unpolite.

I nod. It wasn’t my idea that she, Annette, and their accomplicesbe cast out of Kingsland for fifteen months. That sentence came from a jury of their peers. But itwasmy idea that they be given a place in the clans, with conditions like good behavior, of course. They deserved to be punished for their attack on Enola and me, but losing their families and homes was punishment enough; they didn’t need to die in the forest. However, my reasons for bringing them here weren’t purely for their welfare. With so many injured after the battle with Gerald, it made sense for trained nurses to lend a hand.

I didn’t foresee the other benefit.

“Now we need our firewood topped up. Persis and Rufus!” Caro snaps her fingers at the men who just tied their horses to the hitching post. “Don’t look at me that way. You have hands. Use them.”

My eyes meet Tristan’s, and it’s all we can do not to laugh. Never in a million years did we think changing the culture in Hanook would start with someone like Caro.

Tristan squeezes my fingers as we near the new hospital—an empty home. His unyielding watchfulness has returned now that we’re surrounded by clansmen. His free hand is open and ready to grab his knife.Do you want some time alone with your mum? I can stay outside and guard the door. I won’t be far.

I hesitate, unsure.

Almost immediately after returning to Kingsland, I reached out to Liam. I couldn’t live with him thinking I was dead, and it never felt right to simply walk away from our friendship and the dreams we had for the clans. But my re-entry here has been rough. At times, I’ve feared for my life. After Liam agreed to allow me to anonymously distribute forbidden books, most of them were burned. Some women were even punished for reading them. Butwhen I got word that Tarta, a Maska woman, had been beaten by her husband and might not survive, I arranged for her to be brought to Henshaw. Together, we did an operation to stop the bleeding in her spleen, and she recovered, and although she was given the choice to stay in Kingsland, she chose to return to the clans. News that I was alive spread quickly after that.

As the new Saraf, Liam has done well to gain the respect of the clansmen. Even the remaining Maska have fallen into line—not that they had a choice. The clansmen liked the radical idea of giving every man a vote in future decisions. And only a handful objected to eliminating the burning of traitors.

However, when the people found out I was alive, it called into question Liam’s leadership. There was an uproar. Nearly another uprising. Liam held a town meeting and explained the depths of Father’s crimes and my reasons for doing what I did. It quieted some but not all. So Liam made a decree that I was not to be touched or there would be consequences in the form of evictions, and slowly, I’ve been able to start visiting the clans.

It means Tristan’s never far from my side, his hand ready to grab his knife or bow.

“Maybe stay by the door. This should only take a minute,” I say to him.

Ten beds line the walls of the main hospital room, and about half are filled with people. There’s no missing the stares and whispers as I make my way to the kitchen. Just as many women glare after me as the men. To some, or maybe most, I’m still a traitor.

I’ve decided I can live with that.

My eyes catch on Annette in the corner, making a bed. She acknowledges me with a stoic lifting of her head.

I return it. We’re not friends, nor will we likely ever be. But I think somewhere along this journey, she’s realized that me advocating for her to be placed with the clans means I saved her life.

I find Mum grinding herbs in the kitchen, her blond hair falling a little out of her long braid.

“Hello,” I say.

She smiles when she spots me and tugs me to her for a quick side hug. “How are you?” Her gaze slides over me. “You look well.”

“I am.”

“Miriam,” Henshaw says as he enters the kitchen. He holds up one of the bags from my saddle. “Here are the medicines you were running short on.” He moves to take in her work on the table. “And what are you mixing here? Is this foxglove?”

I grin at Mum with wide eyes, which she ignores. She’s not ready or willing to consider that there could be an additional reason for Henshaw’s curiosity. But his presence has had a profound effect. I think she’s pleasantly baffled, and even flattered, that a man would be interested in healing, and Henshaw’s done more to open Mum’s mind to old-world medicine than I could ever have accomplished.

“No, this is maryclover. Mrs. Plenus is struggling with her joints, so I was going to make her a tea.”

“Interesting. And does that reduce the swelling in the joints or just mask the discomfort?”

Backing out of the kitchen now that I’ve been forgotten, I find Tristan and grab the rest of my saddlebag contents, a sack filled with books.

We pause to ring the bell on the door of the old schoolhouse, then work together to set up the chairs. Seconds later, the children filter in.

In addition to becoming a doctor and working to grow our knowledge of medicine, both from plants and the old world, I’ve been given a dream. It didn’t come to me like Farron’s vision of Kingsland—at least I don’t think so. It wasn’t crystal clear. It’s arrived like waves pounding the shoreline, a slow affirmation and reaffirmation that wouldn’t stop. And just like how Farron’s prophecy of where to locate Kingsland came true, this feels like a promise for the clans. Something better is coming: people valuing the freedom of choice.

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