The Soldier's Curse by Meg Keneally Page A

are peaceable. They acknowledge things, these people. Without rancour, without barracking, without condemnation. They were acknowledging … well – and say nothing of this – they were acknowledging her departure. There is more to it, though. They don’t see themselves as owning the land, not the way we do; they believe they belong to it. That all life belongs to it. That includes us, by the way. They resent our hunting their animals and catching their fish. Resources are not so plentiful that our presence hasn’t affected their own ability to eat well. But they reason that if the land will tolerate us, it must have a use for us which they cannot perceive. And therefore our lives and deaths have a relevance for them, even if they don’t understand why.’
    â€˜But how do they know of her condition?’
    Spring removed his glasses to polish their now spotless lenses, and Monsarrat wondered whether word of Mrs Shelborne’s illness had reached the Birpai via the Scot. In fact, now he thought of it, he could see no other means for the news to travel, Kiernan being no longer part of the settlement.
    â€˜Well, at the height of her powers, Mrs Shelborne … but I’m saying too much, Monsarrat.’
    â€˜You can depend on my discretion, sir.’
    â€˜Very well. She hunted widely. And fished. And she was indiscriminate – she took totem animals too.’
    â€˜And that made them angry?’
    â€˜Not angry, no. But there is a balance, you see. The land can only support them – and us – if no one takes more than they need. She may have taken too much. And I’m speculating now, but it may be they feel the balance is being redressed.’
    He cleaned his glasses yet again. ‘I suggest you tell Mrs Mulrooney they were praying for Mrs Shelborne. That is, actually, what they were doing. Praying for a peaceful passing. And so her soul does not inhabit the trees and river and blight them.’
    â€˜A peaceful passing?’
    â€˜Well, that is their view of what is happening.’
    After Spring took his leave, Monsarrat decided he had enough time to quickly report to Mrs Mulrooney before Diamond came to Government House to ensure all was as it should be, and perhaps to imagine the changes he would make when he became commandant, which he saw as probable, given the major’s eminent talents and the likelihood of a higher post for him.
    He found her in the kitchen, cooking a broth.
    â€˜She loses all her food now,’ she said as Monsarrat walked in. ‘I thought maybe a broth would stay more easily where it is supposed to.’
    Slattery was at the table too. A morning of yelling at women and labourers had earned him a cup of tea, he no doubt felt. Monsarrat would have preferred to talk to Mrs Mulrooney privately, but lacked the time to wait for Slattery to return to his work. In any case, Slattery was a member of their kitchen commonwealth. Not the most judicious member, but Monsarrat felt he owed Mrs Mulrooney an explanation.
    As he had agreed with Spring, he told Mrs Mulrooney the women had been praying for Mrs Shelborne.
    â€˜My God,’ said Mrs Mulrooney. ‘And the major away chasing pastures somewhere.’
    â€˜I would not be distressed, Mrs Mulrooney. As Spring sees it, they might believe she is dying for having taken too much game, that there is some sort of cosmic set of scales at work. But she is not aware of it and nor do any of us believe that. So she has no duty to die.’
    â€˜Something has certainly befallen her,’ said Mrs Mulrooney. ‘It is so sudden to go from full health one day into a total decline the next, and to stay in that decline without getting better or … well, I’ll say it … without dying. It is a strange, strange business, andif in the country in Ireland such a thing happened, people would certainly believe that curses and the fairies were at work. But this is