Sometimes laying in bed waiting for the same sleepless dream to welcome you got…. Tiring? Boring?
Either way I was up early. A big day laid ahead. I hate big days. Everything leading up to it feels like drawn out suspense— I don't like suspense. I like to get busy right away. So I'm doing so another way.
The only way I knew sometimes….
Across from the foot of my bed I hung from a wooden set of monkey bars upside down like a bat with braids.
Sweat rolled in reverse up my abdominal muscles as they contracted and expanded in accordance to my third set of hanging sit ups.
"One…. Two….. three… four….." I heaved, letting off a left right punching combo at the top of the movement to engage my obliques and shoulders. The symphony of wooden creaks and cold drafts from the open window to my left was like music to my ears.
Simple. Calm. Tranquil.
After twelve, I swung myself backwards hard, rocketing towards the polished wooden floor.
The bar dug into the back of my knees, spinning me into a partial backflip. I bent backwards like a crescent moon and reached up, catching the bar with my hands to smoothly transition into pullups.
Rinse, repeat.
The sweat once going upward, followed the same path downward now. Lining my pumped legs and arms. Falling into the muscular insertions and creating shimmering line work on my brown skin.
I stayed that way for an hour, swapping between hanging and raising and pushing and pulling until my muscles felt close to bursting.
Then I tried my best to tame my neuroticism by turning my shower water into lava.
By the end of it I was facing the mirror, healthily exhausted and centered. Focused. Fit to be King.
I wiped the steam from the mirror and studied myself as I shaped up my eyebrows with a dagger. No need to pull up to the GroveMongers looking feral.
Then again, only so much could be adjusted.
As I stared into my reflection I was reminded of things.
Fights— critical moments and memories tied to each scar.
The jagged line across my shoulder from Lance during the Advancement Trials. Where I became King.
The thin line across my wide barrel nostril nose from when I just barely dodged being blinded by the blade I took from Arthur.
The crooked shape of my two middle fingers as they gripped the dagger shaping my eyebrows. I broke them when I was sixteen, punching Ahmad in the stomach in training. They were well into chemical enhancements by then.
Took abs of steel to a whole new universe. One I quickly learned I wasn't part of. I still whoop ass though so I ain't worried.
After a few minutes of plucking and shaping my eyebrows were back to their medium thin angular beauty. They sat above my round hazel eyes in a neutral position. I imagined that for my mindset. Neutral.
And then I put on the rest of my clothes as the steam clung to my skin and braided and oiled hair.
Yellow thermal sweater. Black pants. Black fireman's coat and parka with a chainmail interior. Left-side armor accessories, riot gauntlet and pauldron for defense. Right side free as a bird. Respirator mask.
King's Blade sheathed and sharpened.
I was in the courtyard early. Alone. Sometimes I did that.
Early bird gets the worm and shit of that nature.
Sometimes it was nice to see the field before you played on it.
And see it, I did. Although, seeing was an understatement. The stretch of icy dead earth that ran a couple miles in all directions was my home since childhood. I didn't see the place I felt it.
The message board behind with hundreds of requests, appointments, locations and alerts stamped to it behind me. Hammered against the castle walls holding the stairs.
The plots of land ahead, segmented into different occupational zones. Wooden, stone and icy metal beacons of socializing.
The Stable. The Kennel. The Armory. The Bar. So on and so forth.
Hey, don't judge the namesake we get straight to the point around here.
Something I hoped this morning would follow the trend of. Hell, id make it.
And that I did. I planned and prepared over the dry icy earth as the courtyard filled. Thousands filed in from their homes inter worked into the castle complex of Camelot's Keep.
I lined them up and sectioned them off into neat groupings with the help of a few essential workers, saving just enough space for the Knight-Soldiers, Scouts and Knight- Hunters.
When the Hunters arrived, the crowd quieted. They set up my podium and stood at attention below me. Facing the crowd with me. All twelve in attendance.
Lance, my most loyal and skilled.
Ahmad, the brother with daggers that never missed.
Wayne, my cousin— not by blood, and the Unit's potential.
Percy, Leon, Tristan, Garren, Lamron, Boris, Henry, Kay….
And Gambit. He had a gambling problem…
Marlon didn't look at me as he entered the field and joined the crowd.
His problem, not mine.
"Morning everyone!" I spoke from my diaphragm, causing my abdominal muscles to remind me they were still in recovery.
"Morning, Momma B!"
"Morning, King B!"
"Morning, Trish!"
When you've lived in one place as the oddball your whole life, you get a few nicknames…. Some used to be insulting but that didn't last long. I don't get bullied. Either way, everyone seemed allergic to the name Beatrice. Oh well….
"It's Friday, you all know what that means."
The massive crowd of people gave a collective signal of understanding.
"We'll be heading to Tundra Four for an essential Ration's Run. But, while we're there…. I will be confronting the GroveMongers about their reckless actions that had dressed up Husks knocking at our doorstep. Thanks to our skilled Scouts, we have all the reason to believe it was their actions." I like to keep my people in the know. As a child I used to hate how under Arthur's rule we'd just end up in turf and hellish zone wars out of the blue.
"Do we need to fight?!"
"I never liked those green-fingered assholes anyway! Let's take em over!"
A few in the crowd roared in agreement and let off other snide remarks.
"Aye!" That time I spoke from my diaphragm and somewhere else.
The Knight- Hunters rested their hands closer to their weapons.
"Is anyone here trained or well read in botany?"
The question and my tone of voice threw off the crowd of people.
"No please, raise your hand and tell us your academic credentials if you have them!"
The previous speakers in the crowd didn't look effected by the question. That's fine I can punch harder with my words than a Knight-Hunter can with his fist.
"I have another question, who here has kids?"
"WHO'S GOT A BABY?!"
A few of the closer crowd members flinched.
Slowly, some of the previously more agitated men and women raised their hands. Little mini me's watching as they did.
"So…. like I've already told some of ya'll…" I looked at Marlon as the vein in my neck pushed against my clean skin. "Let's not be too hype to get into a Zone War. Let's remember the generation after us. Let's not forget there are other people who need Tundra Four functioning at its best. I will speak with them. I will share our frustrations. But combat is the absolute last thing I hope for. So should you all. Unless you're ready for someone else to raise your kids."
The little one's didn't get the tail end of my statement. The adults did. I could see it in their addams apples as they bounced with each heavy swallow. And the thousand yard stares they gave me, some remembering their own parents deaths in these very castle walls.
"With that being said, as usual I'll be selecting my men for this mission first hand and taking one child at random beyond these castle walls."
While I observed the field this morning, I acutely planned my lineup of resource retrievers. I needed people who weren't openly aggressive and antagonistic. People who knew the art of diplomacy. I needed watchful eyes and working brains. Unfortunately, if i aimed for that every Friday, I'd be taking the same groups.
Sometimes you had to teach along the way.
"Knight-Soldier Unit Six, you have been selected to join me on this mission." The newest Unit. Their youthful eyes lit up from within their riot helmets and respirator masks.
The parents of the Knight-Soldiers within the crowd beamed with pride while others glowered.
It was like sports for christs sake.
"Of my Knight-Hunters, I will be taking Lance… Wayne, Gambit and Kay." This is by far my worst line up. But I had to keep them all in rotation. A Knight-Hunter without a job is like a Doberman with no exercise.
Wayne's a battlehungry hothead. Gambit will wager human life for profit gain… or sexual gain. And Kay consumes male fear like it's a source of nutrients for her.
Fuck me.
But now was the good part.
"Lastly, one child."
I hopped off the podium and made a b-line straight for the crowd of people no less than a hundred feet ahead of me. Their collective warmth increased as I hopped over the rope guardrail sectioning them off and began walking amongst them.
Quickly I was reminded I wasn't the tallest woman alive. I made up for it in density and thickness but only marginally. When I was younger the thought made me want to fight. That's how me and Lance became frenemies. I hate giants.
"As ya'll know…" I started as the crowd of people split and contorted shape at my movements. "Every Friday, we take a new child beyond the walls—not only to give them a new experience. But to socialize in new environments. Meet different people. Experience culture and diversity. If our children grow up experiencing many variations of human existence they're less likely to alienate and make enemies. I think we got enough of those already."
People in the crowd listened. Some of the braver children hopped around excitedly hopping to be chosen. The quieter— more fearful…. Usually older ones, hid. Let their eyes fall.
I found myself stopping in front of a young girl. No older than thirteen. She was in that weird stage of development where her limbs looked too long for her head and her clothes fit oddly. She'd be tall— and beautiful, if her high cheekbones and honey-brown eyes had any say on the matter.
"How you doing, miss?" I held my hand out to her.
Her cheeks reddened as she softly took my hand, "I'm g-good, King B…"
"Your name's Amy right?"
She looked up at me in surprise.
"You race the boys a lot." She wasn't tall and lanky for no reason.
I couldn't really drop down to one knee and get that wholesome imagery of the hero and the child. We were damn near the same height as it was.
"You look like you don't want to go anywhere near Tundra Four….. just a guess really." I commented playfully.
Her parents stood silently behind her. A dark skinned man and a woman as pale as snowfall. They were good looking. Mundane. No scarred hands or cauliflowered ears. Not fighters. They were timid and stiff. They didn't want her to go either.
Amy shook her head, causing her dark brown curls to bounce and shimmy around her shoulders. "I don't want to see the Husks…and my dad says you're going to confront powerful people and possibly fight them."
I nodded, "Fighting is a possibility anywhere and everywhere at all times. But so is peace. And even then, we gotta fight to maintain it, Amy. You can't run from everything….. there's too much out there."
Amy sighed silently as the crowd of people watched them. "That makes me more scared, King B."
"Good." I patted her shoulder, "Fear keeps us alert and alive. Fear is good. But you know what else is good?"
Amy looked at at me.
"Overcoming your fears. Stepping into the shadows with a new source of light." I flexed my bicep, "This is mine right here."
"Muscles…?" Amy looked disappointed.
"Nope. Hard work. If I work hard for you all and myself in every aspect— if I dot my eyes and cross my tee's, I'm less afraid. Less anxious. I got it under control."
"So my…. New source of light is going on the rations run?.."
"It won't help you overcome your fear of husks, but it's a start. You gotta build your light, you know?"
Amy sniffled and stood up straighter, "Alright…."
She moved, only to be grabbed by her parents.
They were staring holes through me.
A deep well of anger opened somewhere in my stomach. I knew parents like them my whole life here.
Parents that couldn't let the hell go. Parents that sheltered their kids and let them believe the world just outside was only real in nightmares and stories.
Parents that perfectly set their kids up as helpless little dinner meals for Husks and shooting dummies during Zone Wars.
I had friends with parents like them.
I watched the parents bury my friends with tears in their eyes as if they weren't to blame.
They recoiled suddenly and let Amy go.
My focus returned to the current moment and I found me and her standing in the center of the crowd of people with much more space than before.
"I'll make sure she's safe. We'll bring back a souvenir for you."
They warily nodded.
I held my hand out to Amy, "Let's hit the road, sister."
"O-Ok…"
The rest of the morning meeting went by as usual. We gathered our resources. Camping equipment. Extra clothing and fire starters. Dick's. Flare guns. Dried meat, nuts and berries— enough for a few days, packing bags. And lastly, a gift. Milk and meat. GroveMongers didn't get much of that.
We loaded it all on a carriage— reinforced with fencing and barb wire and hopped on horseback.
The Knight-Hunters remained on foot with a Hunting Dog assigned to each and led the charge.
If anything came for us, we'd know about a mile in advance.
But as we headed out of the castle I wondered if that would be enough for the cloaked one…