The rain pattered softly against the slate roof of the barn as a young man worked in the murky gray light of sunrise. Where there had been bright, blinding sun and blistering heat the day prior, there was damp humidity and nearly no sun today. The man worked to light the lanterns hanging around the barn, trying to replace some of the lost morning sun. It was impossible to see in the murky light filtering in through the barns only window high overhead in the loft. Usually that was enough to see in the bright summer light, along with leaving the door open, but not this day.

  He finished lighting the lanterns and went about the daily chores. It was always the same, day in and day out. He was responsible for tending to the milking, shoveling and feeding in the barn before anything else. His brothers and father were already busy setting about their chores as well, the farm a bustle of activity even just after dawn.

  The humid air was oppressive, clinging to him like a second skin and making his skin damp within minutes of setting to work. He ran a hand through short cropped, auburn hair and smiled into the face of his favorite barn animal, Ruz. The young man ran his hand over the creature's deep, black coat as he smiled. Ruz let out a snort of acknowledgement and picked his head up out of his feed bucket briefly before plunging back in. Ruz was a brock, a type of giant black and white badger common in this part of the world. Horses were rare these days so most farms had bred, tamed and domesticated the brocks to replace them. The young man smiled as he scratched Ruz’s neck, earning a pur as she continued to eat.

  Ruz was the farm’s pride and joy. Luckily, the neighboring farm had a male brock they studded and so far Ruz had been mated and produced two kits, Ophenus and Afus, twin one year old brock males. They were just about full size and had been trained to pull a wagon and allow riders. The young man pulled up a stool and began the routine of milking Ruz. When the first bucket was filled, he moved onto the second and then a third. Female brocks, after pregnancy, produced a lot of milk for up to two years after giving birth, which was a lot longer than most other creatures.

  As the milk came to just a trickle, a shuffling of feet and hooves made their way into the barn. The young man looked up from his stool to spy an older man pulling the largest Greshan goat, Styga, into her stall.

  “How’s she doing, father?” The young man called to the older man who was now fondly stroking the giant goat’s fur.

  “Should be due any day now,” came the older man’s response. “But she hasn’t slowed down one bit.”

  The young man hoisted up the last bucket from underneath Ruz, nearly full to the brim, and carried it carefully away to the other two buckets waiting nearby. He set it down with the others and leaned against the fence to the stable, wiping his hands on his worn trousers.

  “I doubt she’ll stop until the kid is here,” the young man said with a smile at the goat. “Maybe not even then.”

  The old man grimaced but nodded. “I hope you’re wrong there, Sen, but knowing our girl you’re probably right. While I appreciate her hard work all these years, I do wish she was a little more attentive to her kids.”

  The young man, Sen, sighed but nodded in agreement. While Styga seemed to still lead the other female Greshan goats by rank, drawing most of the males attention, some of the weaker goats tended to occasionally end up pregnant as well. One such occasion just occurred and the birth went smoothly. If Styga ignores her kid, the other mother should be willing to nurse Styga’s young along with her own. If not, they could at least offer Ruz’s milk as a replacement. It had been a busy year for babies on the farm.

  The two men worked together to get the other goats milked and fed and stalls cleaned. By the time they were done it was just before midday. They hauled some of the milk buckets to the house to be processed into butter and buttermilk later that day. The rest was put in the milk house to be preserved for three days until it could be hauled to town to be sold. There was a spring that the milk house was built upon that helped to keep the milk cold for storage in the summer. In the winter it was stored in the icebox in the main house cellar. However, they had so much at the moment that most needed to be turned to butter and salted to be preserved and sold. The buttermilk was used to make hardbread and crackers along with the wheat from their fields.

  As they made their way to the main house, they were met by Sen’s three older brothers, Geo, Harvey and Jensen. Geo carried fish on a string from the river and three rabbits from the snares they set in the forest. Harven and Jensen were shirtless and covered in a sheen of sweat and rain, their shaggy hair plastered to their foreheads from working the wheat fields. They all set to work making a meager lunch of hardbread, herbed butter and fish. Rarely did they use any meat or products from their farm, opting to sell all of it for as many profits as they could get. They bred the goats for milk and meat, usually doing their breeding in spring and slaughtering in fall. The wardens collected the dues just before winter at the end of the fall harvest so they used their sizable profit from the meat to pay most of what they owed. The dues only went up every year, making it hard for a lot of commonfolk to survive. Last year, a farm a few miles on the other side of town couldn’t come up with their dues in time. The head of the house was sentenced to a public lashing and jail time until his family could come up with the remaining gold coin plus interest.

  No one was supposed to help indebted families by law but some of the townsfolk, at risk of being lashed and prosecuted themselves, came together with a small collection to help and snuck it to the family in the night. The father of the house had only been jailed for three weeks but had gotten an infection and died within a week of being home. Sen had visited him in his final days, being gifted in medicine and healing. There was nothing to be done, however, as the old man had already been comatose and burning with fever. Sen had done what he could to ease the man’s pain but that was all. Now the eldest son of only two had taken over the farm and had to sell most of their land to bring down the cost of their dues and also cover them for this year. Sen could only hope it would be enough.

  –????????–

  After their quiet lunch, the family all went their separate ways to their tasks. They were lucky, being a family of five. Their number allowed them to cover more tasks and chores and allowed them to maintain more land and keep more animals. It was rare these days to have so many children in a family. It was becoming even more rare for a family to be able to afford even one wife for their eldest son, especially on this part of the continent. Dues were being raised astronomically every year and the cost to afford a permanent, live-in wife cost twenty five percent of the yearly calculated dues for a family. There was the option of “borrowing” a wife from another family for a year for less or even buying an older wife from the wealthier families, such as the lords of the land, when they bought younger ones for their house. But most families couldn’t even afford that. Plus, women were so precious that only the most desperate household would consider it. Usually only in hard years where they were at risk of being unable to pay dues.

  Sen tried not to think of the woman who he saw veiled on their rare trips into town while he churned the milk in the milkhouse into butter. He could only remember a handful of times he’d seen women, usually on trips into the town themselves for various reasons. A few of them had been visibly pregnant and likely there to see the town doctor. On one particular occasion though, they had happened to go into town on auction day. Sen had never seen his father so upset, dragging Sen’s bewildered older brother and him away from the square so fast that he nearly tore their arms off. But not before they had both glimpsed the three young women on the makeshift platform that had been erected. Sen had never forgotten their faces and the stone cold look in their eyes as the townsmen gawked up at them. They had stared forward, seemingly not noticing the happenings around them, though Sen knew they were fully aware. Thankfully, these women had been clothed in the long, tan robes that marked them as aged for auction. It wasn’t uncommon for them to be stripped for auction. It was the only time Sen had seen a woman without a veil.

  Sen's thoughts often drifted to that day while he worked alone and he found himself thinking about it as he finished up in the milkhouse and stepped out into the sweltering sunshine. The clouds had cleared while he worked and the sun was beating brutally on the lands once again. Just as he locked up the milkhouse, a familiar padding sounded from his left. He whipped his head just in time to see a gray blur fly through the air at him, striking his side and sending them both flying to the ground. A huge wet tongue lashed out and licked the side of his face as he lay on his back in the sun-dried grass. He laughed as the tongue licked him again and then he managed to push the hound off of him to sit up.

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  “Grady!” Came the call of a distant voice and the sound of running footsteps just beyond the crest of the hill that led up toward the barn. Sen pushed Grady the rest of the way off of him and managed to stand before his cousin Rydan was upon them. Rydan scowled at the big, shaggy hound who was now sitting on his haunches, tail wagging furiously as he looked between the two young men.

  “Urg, I’m so sorry Sen,” Rydan said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Grady took off running this way before I could stop him. Guess he picked up your scent.”

  Ren smiled and bent over to scratch the top of the mutt’s head. His big tongue lolled out happily, tail kicking up dirt from the ground.

  “It’s alright,” Sen laughed as he continued to scratch. “You know I can’t resist this face.”

  Rydan scowled again. “Yea, I don’t know who likes the other more to be honest. If I didn’t need him so bad for hunting I’d let you keep him. He’s more trouble than he’s worth most of the time.”

  Sen straightened up and peered up into his cousin’s face expectantly. While Sen was downright short and lanky, Rydan was the opposite. Tall and muscular for his age, way beyond the build any of Sen’s brothers had, even with their hard work on the farm. While Sen’s skin was very light, his freckles just getting more numerous and darker in the sun, Rydan didn't have a freckle in sight and his skin was dark golden-brown in color. That was even more true this deep in the summer when he spent every minute outside and shirtless.

  Some of Rydan’s build was due to being the eldest of only three boys, one of which was only ten, on a large farm that rivaled the size of Sen’s family farm. Rydan’s father was born and grew up on Ren’s family farm but when they got older, the family had saved enough money to buy a wife for Sen’s father. In turn, years later, the family saved up enough money to buy Rydan’s father a piece of land a few miles down the road from Sen’s farm. He had since turned it into a profitable piece of land, buying up small pieces of surrounding property. They focused more on crops than keeping animals and hunted for their meals using dog-wolf hybrids like Grady. Sometimes they got enough meat from hunting that they could sell it from the bigger game like deer. Their pack of hybrid mutts, which they called Wends, had grown so large they could now easily take down the occasional bear that they’d find.

  Rydan noticed Sen’s assessing look and scowled again. “We need to talk.”

  Sen observed his cousin’s scowling face for a minute more before nodding and leading the way without a word toward the house. While they did not have crops beyond wheat, hay and corn, Sen’s father and brothers had helped him to build a large herb garden behind the house. They had built a high stone wall to surround it along with its own stone well inside, which was the hardest part. It had been worth it, however, when Sen had grown the first batch of herbs and was able to dry and sell them for a considerable profit. The town doctor alone paid a small fortune to be the first customer Sen stops to see with the herbs he grows. The stone walls and strong wooden gate kept out most of the vermin who would normally feast on such delicacies. It also happened to be a place none of the family, aside from Sen, tended to. Therefore, it served as a perfect place for private chats.

  –????????–

  Sen led the way over the few small hills that led up to the main house and then over another toward the barn and flattened fields beyond. The herb garden sat on a flat knoll between the house and the barn. He pulled out the keychain from his pocket and popped the correct key in the lock and unwound the chain from the gate. While the heavy steel chains on the garden and milkhouse cost a fortune, they were worth it to keep out men who would like to steal their hard-made goods. Before the chains it had happened twice at the milkhouse, someone cleared out a sizable amount of their wares in the middle of the night and then came back a month later and did the same thing. Sen’s brothers had taken shifts sleeping inside after that until the blacksmith could forge the chair and lock. They had never caught the culprit, though. Sen didn’t take any chances with the valuable herbs and had the chain and lock forged when some of the first seeds were planted.

  He held the door open for Rydan. Rydan gave Grady the hand signal for ‘guard’ and Grady plopped down next to the door, still as stone as he looked out over the grounds. Sen followed Rydan inside and shut the door with a click, dropping the chain and lock to the side and plopping down in the grass. Rydan leaned against the stone wall by the door, a tense look on his face.

  Sen looked up at Rydan expectantly. “Well,” he said, “lay it on me.”

  Rydan still continued to stare at Sen for a minute and Sen frowned. But just as he was about to ask what Rydan’s problem was, he let out a deep sigh and plopped onto the grass as well. He ran a hand through his long, dark brown curls. The sweat glued them to Rydan’s head as he pushed them back.

  “We saved enough money to buy me a wife,” Rydan said in a low voice.

  Sen’s eyes opened wide and his mouth fell open as he let the news settle over him. A wife. Rydan watched him tensely as he let the words sink in.

  “A wife,” Sen repeated, staring wide eyed at his cousin. “That’s…. Amazing Ry. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

  Rydan grimaced and closed his eyes, resting his head against the stone wall behind him.

  “Is it?” He asked in a low, strained voice.

  Sen didn’t answer him, mouth still hanging open in shock. Of course, he had assumed this day would come at some point for Rydan or one of his brothers. He just assumed Geo would be the first to be married since he was so much older than the rest of them, turning twenty six this fall. She knew her father had been building up a dowry for Geo, likely since he was born, but had no idea how close he was to having enough. Last year's profit had been the highest with Sen’s herbs so he had assumed it would be soon, even if the thought made something churn deep in his gut. He told himself that it would be fine. It had to be.

  Recovering from his initial shock, Sen lay down in the crunchy grass of the garden. While he used the well to water the herbs regularly, he didn’t bother to take the time to do the same for the grass. Especially not in the blaring summer heat.

  “You should sound happier,” Sen said, shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed up at the sky. “There are many men who would kill to be in your shoes right now.”

  Rydan shot to his feet suddenly, towering over Sen and blocking the sun.

  “Seriously, Senna,” he hissed in a deep, angry whisper. “You know why I’m upset.”

  Sen sat up, shocked again by his cousin’s words.

  “Don’t call me that,” Sen hissed, standing up to glare back at Rydan. “Not ever.”

  Rydan rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air, beginning to pace the garden path.

  “Well that’s your name,” he yell-whispered, shooting another glare toward Sen. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

  Sen gaped at his cousin. They never had these conversations. Never. Not even while utterly alone and whispering. Rydan was his closest friend and they still never talked about this. Sen shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

  “Please,” Sen said, voice coming out as a low rasp. “Just calm down.”

  Rydan sighed but stopped pacing. When he turned toward Sen his face was completely miserable.

  “I know it’s my duty to my family to take a wife and have children,” Rydan said, “but it’s not right. Women shouldn’t be property. They just shouldn’t. How am I supposed to look at my wife everyday and treat her like some expensive belonging?”

  Sen stayed quiet as he listened. Despair coated every syllable his cousin spoke. While he wanted to disagree with his cousin and tell him he was being foolish, the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed, his tongue feeling as dry as sandpaper. He knew it didn’t have anything to do with the heat but rather talking about the subject at hand.

  “Women will never be free,” Sen finally managed to rasp. “There aren’t enough of them left. Too many still die every day. This is what’s best for everyone.”

  Rydan threw his hands into the air once again, anger replacing the despair in his eyes.

  “Says who, Sen?” He asked quietly. “The king sure wants us to believe women are still dropping dead left and right, like before the war. But that was over a century ago and the common-folk hardly ever see any women, nevermind those who are dropping dead.”

  Sen shrugged, “Don’t you think that’s because of everything The High Court has done to prevent all women from dying out?”

  Rydan shuddered. “You mean like using them as living test subjects and experiments to see who is resistant to the disease? Do you think that’s fair?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Sen asked, running a hand back through his thick, auburn hair. It had become plastered to his forehead in the heat and sweat was dripping down his face. He made his way past Rydan to the well and put his head under the spigot. Rydan’s head replaced Sen’s when he was done and Sen continued pumping the water over his cousin's head and face.

  Rydan sighed and turned helpless eyes on Sen as he shook out his hair.

  “It’s just not fair,” he muttered. He opened his mouth to say something else when Grady's warning whine made their heads snap toward the door. They were halfway there when the gate swung open. Geo stood in the entrance to the garden, Grady rushing through toward them.

  –????????–