Ignited By Fire

Unease

After a late night, I woke up covered in sweat, the blazing heat of the Sorran desert especially brutal during the long summer days.

Dragging myself out of bed, I threw the silk oversized shirt onto my bed and stumbled into the bathroom. I stepped into the bathtub, the patterned copper tub cooled with icy water from the oasis and sighed in relief, my body temperature cooling immediately. Pressing my breasts against the side of the tub, I closed my eyes as I played with the oat and hemp bar of soap, lost in thought. I thought of the vast expanse fields that grew the crops we ate, that were used in the making of our products and our medicines. I would spend the day out with Sarake, keeping track of the year's harvest for carrots, parsnips, beetroots and asparagus. This year's harvest was supposedly especially abundant, which we desperately needed, considering the explosion in the population. This year, according to my fathers reports, more than thirty percent of young families had a child under five. And all these children needed to eat.

Sarake seemed to be in much better spirits than I by the time we made it downstairs to eat, the cook making us a hearty spread of fermented breads, dips and oils with an array of soft cheeses and grilled vegetables. We planned our morning as we ate, which households we planned to visit first, how to record our findings and briefly about her marriage. Zaire had agreed to marry her.

"So, you're going to be a married woman?" I confirmed as I topped a thick slice of soft bread with oil, cheese and grilled peppers.

She smiled. "Yes, and I'm excited. Zaire sent a note last night accepting Dad's proposal."

I frowned. "He didn't bother to come over himself to deliver the news?"

Sarake rolled her eyes, but I knew she was disappointed too. "Just be happy, Amara."

"Sure, I am." She didn't call me out on my lie, and for that I was grateful.

We made it outside less than an hour later, saddling up on our horses and making our way to our first stop on the Mr. Nokas property. He was a tall, muscular man at age fifty, his skin darkened further by the sun. His property spanned hundreds of acres, with multiple acres devoted to carrots, turnips, and recently potatoes. The large lakes on his property had what seemed to be countless ducks and other bird species, some of which we considered delicacies.

After the pleasantries were over, Mr. Nokas brought up the topic both Sarake and I were dreading.

"As you can see, we are doing great. But the mainland is asking too much from us, Amara."

Dammit. "I understand," I said slowly, "what exactly is the issue? Are they wanting more than what was agreed at the council meeting?"

"The agreement was for twenty five percent of the season's yields." He said gruffly. "Last year they took twenty seven percent, this year they are demanding thirty percent."

"Their population is growing, it doesn't seem unreasonable that they need more." Sarake said. I didn't agree, if they needed more, they could grow it themselves as our population was expanding too. By the look on Nokas face, it was clear he agreed with me. "And what about us? We have close to a hundred babies born each day! We paid the price for our freedom and it was us that were rewarded, enough is enough! I am tired of supporting those criminals, and other growers are too!"

That gave me a pause. "Criminals? What do you mean?"

Mr. Nokas, at this point red in the face from the heat and his frustration, returned his focus to me. "They have been sending representatives to "convince" many of the farmers around here to increase how much we trade with them, supposedly in good faith. That good faith is coercion because when we don't comply, we find many of our crops stolen, or sometimes burnt."