River People were strong, that was true, but this didn't feel like a test of strength. At least, not physical strength. Was my heart equally strong?
The warden stood between us with the rod balanced in his hands. I tried not to look at it, and instead kept my eyes locked on him, daring him to find any fear in my expression.
Truly, though I was nervous for him to raise that rod against me and Weevil, that wasn't my biggest problem. More concerning was the growing pain inside my gut to accompany the ache in my head. I didn't want to take any medicine yet--once it was gone, there'd be no more--but the way I felt now, I knew I wouldn't make it to the end of this day before I gave in and took another sip.
The warden said, "There are very few wardens here at the Colony. You can understand why--it's difficult to get men as stupid as me who will work with the diseased." He had looked at Weevil when he said that, which I thought was entirely unfair, since Weevil was probably the least sick of anyone on this island. Then I thought of what the governor had said, that the River People were the Scourge of Keldan. Maybe the warden also thought of Weevil as a disease, just because of who he was and where he was from. The warden continued. "Therefore, the responsibility for keeping order largely falls on the sick to take care of themselves. Here at the Colony, you work for the benefit of others and then accept their work for your own good. Do you understand?"
I nodded. Not only did I understand, this was the way the River People functioned. Nobody had very much, so the only way any of us survived was if we helped one another. Weevil's family was the exception amongst us. After his father was lost on the exploration, and with so many siblings to take care of, Weevil's mother felt there was little her family could do to contribute equally. It was a foolish pride, but a pride Weevil shared too. So after refusing the help of the River People, Weevil did what he could for his family, but it was never enough.
Finally, under the warden's glare, Weevil nodded too.
"Good," the warden said. "There is one other rule here in the Colony, and that is respect. You are not free people anymore; you cannot think of yourselves that way."
"Is getting sick a crime now?" I asked. "We're no better than the prisoners who used to be here?" Of course we weren't any better. We would even be housed in the prison. All that we lacked were their chains.
"You are servants of the healthy citizens of Keldan. It is your duty to keep the disease away from them and see that Keldan succeeds."
"I'm not a servant," I said. "I'm a free person who happens to be sick. Every last bit of strength in me will go to getting better, not serving a country that has pushed my people farther away each year."
He stepped toward me. "If the River People really are free, then how have we pushed you away?"
That was something I had not considered. Were we free? My people had been known by many names over our existence, all of them signifying rejection by our own countrymen. We built temporary homes on land we could not own, paid higher prices in pinchworm markets after earning half their salaries, and when the wardens came and said it was time to move into even higher country, we went.
Weevil's father wasn't free, certainly, nor the other River People who had been forced onto the governor's expedition.
The wardens had come to us a year and a half ago, asking for three volunteers for a voyage into the northern seas in search of resources for Keldan. Their pleas were met with silence. Weevil's father stepped forward and said he had been there before, and that if we thought the storms that collected around Attic Island were bad, it was nothing compared to what happened farther north.
"The River People will not join your voyage," he had told the wardens. "Collect your volunteers amongst the townsfolk."
That speech had sealed his fate, my parents later explained. Weevil's father was taken from his home by force late that night, while his family tried to stop the wardens. Weevil had shown up at my door the following morning with a swollen eye, bruised lip, and a broken heart. It didn't matter how hard he had fought for his father. He only cared that he had failed.
"If I'd been stronger," he had said to me. "Or if any of the River People had come to help us, this wouldn't have happened."
"We didn't know," I had replied. "We thought the wardens had left the river country, or we'd have come. But we'll help you now."
"You won't," Weevil had said. "I failed my father. I'll take care of my family now. I owe him that much."
If only Weevil knew how they survived. He would be stripped of his pride and his honor. It would devastate him.
The warden continued. "Part of your duties as a servant of Keldan is to respect the other people here. You will not harm them, not for any reason."
"Della wasn't harmed when she fell into the water," I protested. "She was already wet, so I didn't even do that much to her. And for that matter, she deserved it."
The warden's mouth tightened. "Hold out your hand, Ani. Palm up."
I licked my lips and did as he said. Behind him, Weevil had shifted his position so that he could see me. I knew Weevil's mind was working, but this punishment wasn't his to prevent. What I'd done to Della was my own fault. I didn't know how many times the warden intended to strike my hand with that rod, but I wouldn't make a sound when he did. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
The warden raised the rod, and Weevil cried out, "Wait! Do that to me instead. Not her."
The warden turned, lifting an eyebrow as if amused. "Don't worry, grub, you'll get your punishment next."
"I know that," Weevil said. "But I want hers first."
"No," I said. "The only reason you're even on this island is because of me. I'll take the full punishment for you."
The warden smiled. "There's no need for either of you to worry. I'll give you both as many strikes of the rod as you can stand."
"Stop!" a man called. "I know these two. The rod is not enough."