His eye darkens as he gives me his laser focus, an expression that makes any subject of his scrutiny feel deeply uncomfortable. I shift on the spot and glance away. Perhaps I shouldn’t be making demands of the Warlord, but we’ve been growing closer and he has made mention of me becoming his wife. Doesn't a future maybe-wife get a say in things like this?
"Some of the city's residents believe that we aren't doing enough to reconstruct the wall. They fear an imminent attack and are protesting our work progress."
"But you're making the wall stronger than ever!" I defend him, my voice rising in anger. "Did you explain that to them? There's no point in rebuilding the wall quickly if it's just going to come down again."
His gaze softens a fraction as it travels my length. The edge of his lip quirks up in a semi-smile. "Your defense is appreciated, but not necessary. I did indeed explain it to them."
My eyes narrow in suspicion. "How did you explain it to them?"
His shoulders stiffen and I can tell by the slight shift in his eye that he's about to say something I won't like. "The main voice of dissent has been stopped; the others will fall in line."
"Did you kill someone?" I demand.
"Not yet." His voice is flat, as though telling me not to argue or interfere. "He has been imprisoned and there will be a trial."
"But that's so harsh!" I protest.
"It is the Warlord’s job to stomp out any potential threats in a brutal and decisive manner. This man will not be allowed to convince others to go against the laws of the city. We will end up in all out civil war at a time when we can’t afford it."
I wrap my arms around myself and shake my head. "I don't agree. You're following the example of the Tucson Warlord, and he ran into huge problems by dealing too harshly with his citizens. He striated the communities, caused them to fight against each other. You’ll end up causing a civil war if you start executing citizens."
"The striation came when he began dealing less harshly with the voices of dissent. When your sister got into his head."
A protective fury wells up inside me. "My sister was correct. Murdering your people, the people you’re supposed to be protecting, makes you the monster in their eyes. You have to do better."
He takes a step towards me. "How would you do it?"
"What?"
"How would you deal with this man who I have arrested?"
I'm taken aback by the question since I know Wolfe will do what he plans to do anyway. But I give it some real thought, since he also seems to pay attention to what I think and want as well. "Well… you're right that you can't have that voice of dissent stirring up anger in the city. But instead of killing him, I would talk to him. Find out where the dissent comes from. It probably comes from a place of fear. He and others want that wall up as fast as it'll go because they see it as their best chance at survival if we’re attacked again. I would talk to him, explain calmly why he's wrong."
"You would go the diplomatic route," Wolfe says thoughtfully. "Noble, but how would you deal with his infraction? He took a knife to me, attempted to kill me so that I could be replaced by someone who might deal differently with the city’s security. Attempted murder can’t simply be shrugged off as a man afraid for his life."
"I completely agree with you," I assure him. In fact, I'm very angry that someone would take a knife to Wolfe. If I could end this man's life myself, I probably would. But calmer heads must prevail. We must think of the entire city – not one man. "He needs some kind of punishment that makes your position clear, along with the statement that it is never okay to harm other citizens of the city, Warlord or otherwise."
"How would you punish him?"
I think about it. "I would put him on wall duty; make him help with the rebuild since he wants it done faster. Give him what he wants but punish him at same time. It has the added benefit of giving you an extra labourer."
Wolfe remains silent for a minute and I can see the gears turning in his brain as he considers my solution to his problem. Finally, he nods sharply. "Agreed."
I'm so surprised that I can't keep the look of shock from my face. "Just like that you'll pardon the man?"
"No, he won't be pardoned. He'll be put on the wall until I'm satisfied that he's not a threat to me or anyone else."
I'm surprised he's bowing to my plan, but I suppose I should have seen it coming. Wolfe doesn't speak unless he intends to say something important. By asking me what I would do with the man, he genuinely wanted my advice. A warm glow spreads throughout my body as I realize the extent of his regard for me. He trusts me enough to listen to what I have to say. To implement the changes I suggest if he thinks they’re sound.
Before I can say anything else, he holds his arm out to me and says, "Let's eat."
I smile and reach for him, wrapping my hand around the thick muscle of his forearm, allowing my fingers to slide over the veins in his wrist and hand, marveling at the strength in just that one limb.
As we walk toward the dining chamber, I say to him, "Since you're in such an accommodating mood, I have a question."
He nods for me to continue.
"Can we go on a hunting party to capture some live zombies and then bring them into the city to play with?" I purposely word my request as irreverently as possible, eager for the shocked look on his face. Wolfe does not disappoint. He stops walking, stands rooted to the spot, a frown of consternation marring his brows.
He looks down at me, the eyebrow over his eyepatch rising in question. "You want me to let you have live zombies in the city?"
"Yes, that’s what I want."
He thinks about it for a minute and then surprises me back by saying, "Sounds like fun."
Twenty-Five
Two days later we finish preparations for the hunting party, set to leave the city the next morning. We’re taking three cars with nine warriors, including Wolfe and me. The plan is for each car to transport a live Primitive to the city.
I finish my bedtime ritual, smoothing the homemade lotion that Hannah gave me over my skin after my bath. Since we need to leave early in the morning, Wolfe and I agreed that we should skip our usual dinner and I should have a tray brought to the harem. He also wants to take some extra time to instruct his soldiers on city security during his absence.
I pull on a nightshirt that I’ve been given to wear by the Warlord. He gave it to me one evening after our meal and suggested I might find it useful. It seemed strange, but I suspect he wants me to wear something that belongs to him.
I've worn it every night since. It falls midway between my thighs and my knees and is big enough to contain two of me. I leave the buttons undone to just below my breasts so I have lots of room to move in my sleep. I crawl into bed and assume my usual position, on my side with the blanket tucked between my legs. I curl an arm around my head and allow sleep to claim me.
It feels like I only get a few hours before I'm being gently shaken awake. I roll onto my back with a moan and glare up at the Warlord standing above me. He’s the only person in this Sanctuary who would dare to wake me. Mostly because if I launch an attack, he’s one of the few that might be able to fend me off.