Eighty-four: Remembering the dead

That night, I woke up to find Kiran stroking my hair.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "Why are you sorry?"

"I got you into this mess," he said. "Remember?"

"Oh yes. That's right," I said, looking at the window. "You be sorry then. How long has it been since the war started? I've lost track of time."

"It's been more than a year," he said. "Why?"

"I think the anniversary of Shaun's death is coming up." I felt Kiran stiffen beside me. "I've never told you, have I? I never showed you the graves. We never marked them. I miss him. He was nice to me. He was a good guy… and… and they killed him," I began to sob softly. "They killed the others, just because they couldn't figure out who was leaking information. I was sick at the time. Not really with it. I caught a bad cold digging the first mass grave that night in the rain. I'd nearly fainted earlier that day and Shaun had given me a crust of bread. Fainting was bad. The last woman to faint had been gang raped. Shaun kept me from fainting, but someone noticed that I had taken a break from work. That's why I ended up digging the grave that night. They killed all the POWs but Shaun the next night. They kept him alive to take care of me, until the Scumbag found out. Then they killed him and I buried him. I wasn't quite right anymore after that. Don't know if you've noticed."

Kiran had been holding my hands and now they clenched so hard that it hurt. I didn't mind. It was right that it should hurt. He didn't talk.

"Will you carry me down there?" I asked. "Take me to the field? I want to see him again. I miss him."

"I do too," Kiran said in a gruff voice, clearing his throat. He got dressed and then rolling me in a blanket, scooped me up in his arms.

"Kiran?" called Aylissa's sleepy voice from the next room. "What's going on? Where are you going?"

"Put on your coat if you're coming," Kiran told her. "We're going to visit some old friends."

"Old friends? What old friends? At this time of the night?"

Aylissa's complaints woke our neighbours and before we knew it, we had a train of sleepy and confused people following behind us.

In the dark, it was hard to see where the smooth patches of dirt had once been. Grass had grown over those patches, but I still knew where they were. Someone turned a bright torch light on, illuminating the ground and the lines could just be made out.

"Here," I pointed and Kiran sat me down, leaning me against his warm body in the cold wind. "This is the first grave."

I recounted the names of those who had been buried and how they had died. If I didn't know their names, I described them and told the gathered crowd what they had been like. Somebody began piling sticks up and lit a fire on the grave.

We moved onto the second grave and I told them the names of the POWs who had been buried there. I recounted the stories of what they had done and how kind they'd been to me during those harsh days, imprisoned in the Compound. Another fire was lit and people gathered around that grave. Those who had known those brave men, cried and mourned.

At Shaun's grave I cried and told the story of how he had taken care of me and been killed. I told about the other people and Kiran cried with me. Another fire was lit there.

For all eighty-four graves and the three hundred and sixty-nine people interred there, I recounted every person I had buried. At some point, all the Bosky soldiers and the chiefs had come out to join in the ceremony. Fires burned or smouldered on top of every grave and someone was scribbling in a notepad, while another soldier used those scribbled notes to carve names onto planks of wood. The soldiers all sang a slow, sad dirge that Kiran sang along with, while I told them about the people I had buried.

"I don't know the rest," I waved at the scatterings of other graves in the area. "I didn't bury them."

For those that were known, someone else took up the story, different people taking turns to tell the story of how people had ended up in the ground. More fires were built over all the graves, even the unknown ones.

By the time we were done, the sun had passed high noon and the chiefs ordered food out for everyone to share. Kiran forced me to eat, although I had no appetite and was so drowsy that I could barely keep my eyes open.

"Son," I heard the rumbling voice of Kiran's father and felt a hand that was not Kiran's laid on my head. His thumb rubbed my brow. "I'm sorry," Kiran's father said. "I was rash. I was wrong. This girl is something special, but the surgery can't be undone. I will revoke her slave status. I will cancel the betrothal if you want when we go back. This girl - no, woman, is Bosky born and bred. She's Bosky through and through. Even though she has never learnt our language or learnt our history or customs, she knows them in their purest form without having been taught. Women and people like her, like you, you are what Boskyland was founded upon. It is people like her who have made us who we are today. I can see why you say Aylissa is still just a child now. This one is special. She is born to be a queen. Don't tell Aylissa yet though. She still loves you with all her heart. Her father has already agreed. We will search for another match for her when we return to the mountains and see if she can fall in love with another."

Whiskered lips kissed my forehead.

"Son," said that rumbling voice. "Take care of your queen. We are going to take our leave and speed the next Supply to you. No need to see us out. Good luck with tonight's battle. Help us win the war and show those lowlanders what real Boskies are made of. Don't let them get a hold of her, but turn her completely to our cause and your side. You don't have her heart yet. Win it and you'll win this war. With both of your abilities hand in hand, nothing will be able to stop us."

"Thank you, Father," Kiran's voice was thick and I felt drops of water fall on my face. "That means a lot to me."

"I know," I heard the clap of a hand on a shoulder. "Tell her when she wakes up. Tell her she has our blessing if she is willing. Tell her that I will take care of her parents and brother and that I will let no harm befall them. She need not fear for their lives. They will be my honoured guests for having borne and raised a pure Bosky heart."

"Safe journey, Father."

"Victorious battle. Come home to me in one piece, son. I'll have a feast ready that people will talk about for years to come, let alone a wedding banquet. Send me word."

"I will."

I peeked through a crack in my eyelids and watched the other chiefs clap Kiran on the shoulder and felt them kiss my forehead. I heard them congratulate him surreptitiously. Aylissa kissed my cheek and Kiran's as well, running after them.

When they had gone, Kiran hefted me in his arms and stood.

"Brothers," he bellowed. "Brothers, tonight, we will show the lowlanders that we are men of our word. Tonight we go in the memory of those who have been lost and those who have fallen. We do not forget their sacrifice, nor take their offered lives for granted. Tonight we go to battle. Yes. Tonight we win. We fight and will return home victorious."

Voices roared in agreement.

"Prepare yourselves, brothers. Go rest. Eat. Sleep. Tonight we win the war!"

The voices roared again and again and people stomped, beating whatever they could against the ground. When they were done, they turned to get ready and Kiran carried me back to bed. He kissed my forehead before he left.

It was days before I saw him again.

The air and ground shook with booms and explosions. There was not a moment's silence. I was left alone in the apartment, unable to go anywhere. Meals, when they were delivered, were scarce. Outside, I could hear screaming and shouting and crying. The noise was never ending and I wondered what I could do.

There was really only one thing I could do. I practised walking.