Elyria woke to light coming through the square window across the room. She shook her head. It felt fuzzy and her mouth felt like fur covered her tongue. She sat up, wondering how the window became uncovered. She looked around and saw the hide folded on one of the stools. One and Two were not in her hut. Fendor wasn’t there either.
She looked out of the window. The sun stood passed its zenith. She never slept the morning away. Her head ached. Her body felt heavy and slow. Her thoughts came hazy, incoherent, disjointed. She eased herself out of bed.
If she didn’t know better, she would believe Fendor had never been there. His cloak did not occupy the peg near the door; his pack and bedroll vanished. She lifted the pillow on her bed. His dagger was gone. Her knife lay there where she left it. She knelt down, raised the cot and looked underneath. His sword was gone. She plopped down on the fur covered floor by her bed.
She felt like that time she drank too much mead. Her head ached. She rested it in the palms of her hands. She massaged her temples. She rubbed her forehead.
"Spiced wine." Talking out loud hurt her head. She would make some willow bark tea. That would get rid of her headache.
She busied herself for some minutes, adding wood to the coals, filling her water pot, and crumbling bark into a mug. While she waited for the water to boil, she used her fingers to detangle her hair and braid it in one long dark rope down her back. She tied the end with a wool thread. She dropped a smock over her shift, wrapped a belt around her waist and stuck her knife in it. She tied her shoes to her feet and checked on the water. It bubbled in the pot. She ladled some of the hot liquid into her mug and let the tea steep.
She opened the door to her hut to let in some fresh air. The house felt stuffy and dank after a week of rain. She took her floor coverings outside and laid them over some bushes to air out. She swept the small floor with her twig broom and shook out her pelt blankets. All of this activity made her head pound. She took her mug outside and sat on the boulder by the door. She sipped her tea, straining the bark through her teeth and chewing some to get the strongest effect.
The sun shone bright. It warmed her, cheered her and helped revive her. She felt much better. She tossed the remains of the willow bark off into the woods, went back inside to the well, filled the mug, swished the water around and tossed that outside. She refilled the cup and drank the fresh water. After a second cup, she felt livelier.
She was ready to find out what was going on. Fendor said he was here for the caves. That must be where he had gone. First, check the shed and then off to find which of the caverns he managed to find. Second, make him pay for getting her drunk.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Saturday, January 21, 2006
001 - 005 - The Storm Ends
Elyria rose from her wooden stool and pulled her dagger from her belt at the same time. She pointed her knife at Fendor, who stood up, also. His blade remained in its sheath in his belt. Fendor turned his hands palms up and held them away from his body in a gesture of non-violence.
Elyria stepped back from him two paces, her breathing heavy, fear settling in her chest. She gripped the leather-wrapped hilt of her knife hard causing her fingers to turn white. She did not speak. She looked from Fendor to the door, gauging her ability to get out before he could catch her.
Fendor did not move.
"Let me explain." He gestured to Elyria to calm down. He leaned towards her. She tensed her body even more.
"I will remove my knife and place it on the floor." He held one arm away from his body and moved the thumb and forefinger of his left hand together, moving his hand inch by inch to the hilt of the dagger. He pinched the end of the hilt and lifted it from his belt. Yellow and red fire lights danced along its edge. He tossed it off to the side behind Elyria and away from the door. The rabbit in a trap feeling left her, but she remained wary.
"Can we talk now?" Fendor’s eyes looked into hers and held her gaze. He did not blink.
She nodded her head. Her black hair curled around her face, tiny wisps of new hair in gentle ringlets. She reached up, grabbed the thick mass, twisted it and pulled it over her shoulder. She continued to twist her hair in her hand as she waited.
"Come back and sit down." He waved to the stool.
"No. You sit down." She moved her chair away from him and gestured for him to sit. "Be quick with your story. I’m on edge."
"Yes, of course. I should not have startled you so. I misspoke before."
Fendor took a deep breath and let it out in a steady stream.
"I do not know you. You do not know me. I meant to say I came looking for this place." He paused and looked into the fire, once again gazing into its depths. He remained quiet so long, that Elyria sat down, waiting for him to continue. She did not move any closer to the warmth of the fire.
She held her weapon in front of her, just in case he pulled a sudden move. She waited.
There came a noise of scratching at the door, startling the quiet. Fendor looked around as if he just woke up. Elyria went to the door, opened it and in bounded One and Two. They sniffed around Elyria’s feet and Fendor’s breeches, then simultaneously ran over to the bunk, jumped in, curled around each other and fell asleep. Elyria and Fendor looked at each other and laughed. The spell of fear broke.
Fendor got up, moved his seat away from the fire and put Elyria’s stool closer to the warmth. He gestured to the stool and performed a deep bow.
"Come sit down and be easy." He waited until she sat before he continued. The shadows grew in the corners of the room as dusk settled outside around them. The fire crackled in the hearth, with an occasional pop as sap exploded in a log.
"I traveled a long distance to get here," he began. "Not from my birth home (which I may tell you about another time) but from the place I have called home these past four years, Alexandria. Do you know this place?"
Elyria shook her head, "No, I do not."
"It is on the Africanus continent."
"Of that exotic place I have heard."
"Alexandria is a great city on the northwestern coast, by the Nile River. The city’s great harbor on the Mediterranean Sea shelters vessels and merchants from such far away places as Britannia in the Northern Seas and the Mongolian wilderness in the distant east. People from many nations come to Alexandria. The library at the Serapeum temple houses knowledge from many ages past and any citizen may use it."
Elyria listened, fascinated. She leaned her elbows on her knees, gazing into the flames, picturing wild men in colorful dress, strange animals and odd smells.
"Many new thoughts and ideas breathed their first breaths there. Many religions coexist in peace and harmony. The body, mind and spirit are spiced with the herbs of many people. At least, not long ago, this was true. Now, things are changing." He sounded sad and disappointed.
He stiffened as he spoke. His displeasure in his thoughts showed in the rigidity of his limbs.
"Why? How do such wonders change?" Elyria turned to Fendor. She couldn’t imagine these great things he spoke of disappearing. Once obtained, wouldn’t people cling to the knowledge they gained and never let it go?
"Men of power become obsessed with their own self worth."
"I do not understand."
"Men of power exist that wish to have all of the power and knowledge for themselves. They think themselves gods here on earth, destined to rule men’s hearts."
"You still befuddle me. Tell me plainly what you mean."
"A new religion born from the old Hebrew beliefs is spreading amongst people everywhere. It requires that its believers worship only their one God."
"Many people worship one God. What makes this new religion different?"
"These people may not pay homage to the Emperors. Their God comes first and last." Fendor stood and paced across the room. One and Two raised their heads. He ruffled both of their mussels, scratching behind their ears. He sat beside them and they rested their chins one on each of his thighs. He continued to stroke their heads.
The shadows danced around the three figures across from the fire. Light and dark ran around them, hiding in and out of the hills and depressions that their bodies formed. The effect was hypnotic and Elyria swayed in her seat. Two humpfed in his throat and One yipped in reply.
Elyria shook her head, reawakening herself to the subject at hand.
"How does this have anything to do with this place here? These mountains harbor ancient Gods, alive in the depths of the earth."
"I need a hiding place for some very special people." Fendor’s voice slid between the varying shades of light, quiet and sincere, urgency around the edges. “I heard tales of deep caverns.”
"Saltmines."
The fire glowed in embers. Elyria placed more logs on the coals, each leaning against the other forming a pyramid of wood. The bark caught fire and flamed up, lighting the hut momentarily in a bright halo.
"I found maps."
"Not about here?"
"Yes, in the temple library."
"That can not be," she said. "The knowledge of these salt and ice caverns pass from generation to generation through our village elders and shamans. Only people from our clans would know this information."
"These maps were written by a one time hermit who spent ten years living in the caves." Fendor patted the dogs’ heads and got up. He stretched, his fingers touching the ceiling. "The caves were said to be above a town perched on a hillside at the base of alpine mountains and on the very edge of a deep and isolated lake."
He leaned up against the wall and yawned deeply.
"That could be many places." Elyria yawned, too.
"No. I searched the records. Only this place matches the hermit’s description."
"Tales. Stories. Fireside entertainment."
"Are you telling me no hermit lived here?"
"No hermit has lived in this hut."
Fendor slumped, dejected, against the stones behind his back. His body could no longer support his mind. He needed rest. He spent more than a full moon’s cycle out in the open on his journey here.
"We will talk about this again at first light." He pushed himself upright and went to the door.
"I will check on my beasts and get my bedroll and more wood. Prepare yourself for sleep."
"You are not planning on sleeping in here?" She stood, remembering the knife in her hand. "It quit raining."
"I have had enough of the stars for the time being." He looked back at Elyria. "You can not still think I will hurt you?"
She shrugged her shoulders, unsure.
"I have done nothing against you. You have both of my weapons." He pointed at his sword propped up in the far corner and his dagger still lying on the hard packed earthen floor. He walked out of the cabin.
Elyria picked up his knife and put it under her pillow. She dragged his sword from its resting place and forced it under her bed. She admitted to herself that she too seemed to be beyond exhaustion. She went out to the privy, marveling at the change in the weather. Cool, refreshing breezes blew through the leaves, knocking drops of water down to the ground. No clouds floated in the sky. The stars stood out, clear and bright. Tomorrow would be a new spring day.
On her way back, Elyria heard Fendor talking to his animals. His voice echoed low and reassuring. She couldn’t hear the words he spoke, but the sound soothed her. She listened for a few minutes, until she heard him rummaging through his packs. Then, she went back into her home.
She climbed into her bed, the pups rearranging themselves around her feet. She sat waiting for Fendor to return.
He came back presently with his bedroll over his shoulder and an armful of wood. He also had a drink bladder swinging from the crook of his elbow. He added the logs to the woodpile. After spreading out his bedding, he came over to Elyria and offered her the flask.
"Spiced wine." He held the sac out to her, but she did not take it.
"I do not care for any." Elyria lowered herself to one elbow.
"It will help you sleep and take away hunger." Fendor unstopped the flask and took a long pull. He offered Elyria the drink again. She took it this time and took a small sip. She tasted the spices, their unusual flavor sweet and appealing. She drank again, a longer swallow. The wine tasted of fruits unknown to her and she took another drink.
Fendor took the bottle back.
"Not too much the first time. It's potency is deceiving." He went over to his pallet, spread it out in front of the trunk and sat on the bedding. He pulled his boots off and tossed them away. He took more of the wine. He put the cork back in the flask and lay down, the flask still in his hand.
In a few seconds, Elyria heard his snores. She remembered no more.
Elyria stepped back from him two paces, her breathing heavy, fear settling in her chest. She gripped the leather-wrapped hilt of her knife hard causing her fingers to turn white. She did not speak. She looked from Fendor to the door, gauging her ability to get out before he could catch her.
Fendor did not move.
"Let me explain." He gestured to Elyria to calm down. He leaned towards her. She tensed her body even more.
"I will remove my knife and place it on the floor." He held one arm away from his body and moved the thumb and forefinger of his left hand together, moving his hand inch by inch to the hilt of the dagger. He pinched the end of the hilt and lifted it from his belt. Yellow and red fire lights danced along its edge. He tossed it off to the side behind Elyria and away from the door. The rabbit in a trap feeling left her, but she remained wary.
"Can we talk now?" Fendor’s eyes looked into hers and held her gaze. He did not blink.
She nodded her head. Her black hair curled around her face, tiny wisps of new hair in gentle ringlets. She reached up, grabbed the thick mass, twisted it and pulled it over her shoulder. She continued to twist her hair in her hand as she waited.
"Come back and sit down." He waved to the stool.
"No. You sit down." She moved her chair away from him and gestured for him to sit. "Be quick with your story. I’m on edge."
"Yes, of course. I should not have startled you so. I misspoke before."
Fendor took a deep breath and let it out in a steady stream.
"I do not know you. You do not know me. I meant to say I came looking for this place." He paused and looked into the fire, once again gazing into its depths. He remained quiet so long, that Elyria sat down, waiting for him to continue. She did not move any closer to the warmth of the fire.
She held her weapon in front of her, just in case he pulled a sudden move. She waited.
There came a noise of scratching at the door, startling the quiet. Fendor looked around as if he just woke up. Elyria went to the door, opened it and in bounded One and Two. They sniffed around Elyria’s feet and Fendor’s breeches, then simultaneously ran over to the bunk, jumped in, curled around each other and fell asleep. Elyria and Fendor looked at each other and laughed. The spell of fear broke.
Fendor got up, moved his seat away from the fire and put Elyria’s stool closer to the warmth. He gestured to the stool and performed a deep bow.
"Come sit down and be easy." He waited until she sat before he continued. The shadows grew in the corners of the room as dusk settled outside around them. The fire crackled in the hearth, with an occasional pop as sap exploded in a log.
"I traveled a long distance to get here," he began. "Not from my birth home (which I may tell you about another time) but from the place I have called home these past four years, Alexandria. Do you know this place?"
Elyria shook her head, "No, I do not."
"It is on the Africanus continent."
"Of that exotic place I have heard."
"Alexandria is a great city on the northwestern coast, by the Nile River. The city’s great harbor on the Mediterranean Sea shelters vessels and merchants from such far away places as Britannia in the Northern Seas and the Mongolian wilderness in the distant east. People from many nations come to Alexandria. The library at the Serapeum temple houses knowledge from many ages past and any citizen may use it."
Elyria listened, fascinated. She leaned her elbows on her knees, gazing into the flames, picturing wild men in colorful dress, strange animals and odd smells.
"Many new thoughts and ideas breathed their first breaths there. Many religions coexist in peace and harmony. The body, mind and spirit are spiced with the herbs of many people. At least, not long ago, this was true. Now, things are changing." He sounded sad and disappointed.
He stiffened as he spoke. His displeasure in his thoughts showed in the rigidity of his limbs.
"Why? How do such wonders change?" Elyria turned to Fendor. She couldn’t imagine these great things he spoke of disappearing. Once obtained, wouldn’t people cling to the knowledge they gained and never let it go?
"Men of power become obsessed with their own self worth."
"I do not understand."
"Men of power exist that wish to have all of the power and knowledge for themselves. They think themselves gods here on earth, destined to rule men’s hearts."
"You still befuddle me. Tell me plainly what you mean."
"A new religion born from the old Hebrew beliefs is spreading amongst people everywhere. It requires that its believers worship only their one God."
"Many people worship one God. What makes this new religion different?"
"These people may not pay homage to the Emperors. Their God comes first and last." Fendor stood and paced across the room. One and Two raised their heads. He ruffled both of their mussels, scratching behind their ears. He sat beside them and they rested their chins one on each of his thighs. He continued to stroke their heads.
The shadows danced around the three figures across from the fire. Light and dark ran around them, hiding in and out of the hills and depressions that their bodies formed. The effect was hypnotic and Elyria swayed in her seat. Two humpfed in his throat and One yipped in reply.
Elyria shook her head, reawakening herself to the subject at hand.
"How does this have anything to do with this place here? These mountains harbor ancient Gods, alive in the depths of the earth."
"I need a hiding place for some very special people." Fendor’s voice slid between the varying shades of light, quiet and sincere, urgency around the edges. “I heard tales of deep caverns.”
"Saltmines."
The fire glowed in embers. Elyria placed more logs on the coals, each leaning against the other forming a pyramid of wood. The bark caught fire and flamed up, lighting the hut momentarily in a bright halo.
"I found maps."
"Not about here?"
"Yes, in the temple library."
"That can not be," she said. "The knowledge of these salt and ice caverns pass from generation to generation through our village elders and shamans. Only people from our clans would know this information."
"These maps were written by a one time hermit who spent ten years living in the caves." Fendor patted the dogs’ heads and got up. He stretched, his fingers touching the ceiling. "The caves were said to be above a town perched on a hillside at the base of alpine mountains and on the very edge of a deep and isolated lake."
He leaned up against the wall and yawned deeply.
"That could be many places." Elyria yawned, too.
"No. I searched the records. Only this place matches the hermit’s description."
"Tales. Stories. Fireside entertainment."
"Are you telling me no hermit lived here?"
"No hermit has lived in this hut."
Fendor slumped, dejected, against the stones behind his back. His body could no longer support his mind. He needed rest. He spent more than a full moon’s cycle out in the open on his journey here.
"We will talk about this again at first light." He pushed himself upright and went to the door.
"I will check on my beasts and get my bedroll and more wood. Prepare yourself for sleep."
"You are not planning on sleeping in here?" She stood, remembering the knife in her hand. "It quit raining."
"I have had enough of the stars for the time being." He looked back at Elyria. "You can not still think I will hurt you?"
She shrugged her shoulders, unsure.
"I have done nothing against you. You have both of my weapons." He pointed at his sword propped up in the far corner and his dagger still lying on the hard packed earthen floor. He walked out of the cabin.
Elyria picked up his knife and put it under her pillow. She dragged his sword from its resting place and forced it under her bed. She admitted to herself that she too seemed to be beyond exhaustion. She went out to the privy, marveling at the change in the weather. Cool, refreshing breezes blew through the leaves, knocking drops of water down to the ground. No clouds floated in the sky. The stars stood out, clear and bright. Tomorrow would be a new spring day.
On her way back, Elyria heard Fendor talking to his animals. His voice echoed low and reassuring. She couldn’t hear the words he spoke, but the sound soothed her. She listened for a few minutes, until she heard him rummaging through his packs. Then, she went back into her home.
She climbed into her bed, the pups rearranging themselves around her feet. She sat waiting for Fendor to return.
He came back presently with his bedroll over his shoulder and an armful of wood. He also had a drink bladder swinging from the crook of his elbow. He added the logs to the woodpile. After spreading out his bedding, he came over to Elyria and offered her the flask.
"Spiced wine." He held the sac out to her, but she did not take it.
"I do not care for any." Elyria lowered herself to one elbow.
"It will help you sleep and take away hunger." Fendor unstopped the flask and took a long pull. He offered Elyria the drink again. She took it this time and took a small sip. She tasted the spices, their unusual flavor sweet and appealing. She drank again, a longer swallow. The wine tasted of fruits unknown to her and she took another drink.
Fendor took the bottle back.
"Not too much the first time. It's potency is deceiving." He went over to his pallet, spread it out in front of the trunk and sat on the bedding. He pulled his boots off and tossed them away. He took more of the wine. He put the cork back in the flask and lay down, the flask still in his hand.
In a few seconds, Elyria heard his snores. She remembered no more.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
001 - 004 - Weathering the Storm
Fendor’s stomach rumbled over the sound of the rain. He messaged his belly through his tunic with both hands. His hands stretched tendons strong and tight, the knuckles large and the backs wide and heavily scarred. Elyria wondered at the size of those hands and what they engaged in to receive such damage. She looked up to find Fendor’s eyes on her. The wind blew a gust through the crack between the oilcloth on the window and its frame. Elyria shivered.
"I am a little hungry." Fendor grinned. The firelight reflected red dancing flames in his blue eyes.
The hut seemed smaller now with the heat and the light and Fendor’s pack and cloak taking up space in her small home. Elyria noticed Fendor’s sword hanging from his waist. The point almost touched the ground, its length seeming greater than most.
"Yes, I think you must be." Elyria lifted the lid to the pot hanging on its swivel hook by the fire. "I don’t have much here. I have some porridge that can be heated." She swung the arm over the flames, the cast iron pot inhaling the heat.
"That would be a start. I haven’t eaten in two days." He let out a deep sigh. "I ran out of jerky and I had to give my oat cakes to the horses."
"Remove your sword and place it in that corner." She pointed to the spot farthest from the door.
"If I can get something in me, I will go out and get some fresh meat." Fendor untied his sword belt and unwound it from his waist. He pulled up a stool, sat and placed his sword on the floor beside him. The dogs raised their heads at the clank of the metal laid near them.
"Fresh meat would be a treat. We’ll need more wood to keep the fire going to cook meat, though." She went to take his cloak from the hook. "While you are still wet, you should go out and get more." She brought his cloak to him and waited for him to rise and take it. He chuckled and shook his head, slightly. He got up, took the heavy wool garment, placed it over his head and shoulders and started to the door. One and Two rose and joined him.
"I have some dried currents I can add to the porridge, to fortify and refresh you."
"You are too good." Fendor mumbled as he left, the pups trailing after him.
Elyria tried to pick up Fendor’s sword. It weighed more than she could manage. She lifted it by the hilt and dragged it to the back corner and rested it there against the wall. She didn’t feel any more secure but at least the weapon would be harder to get. She would have put it under her oaken chest, but felt that might be too provoking.
That done, she found the pouch marked with her symbol for currents, five red circles. She opened the bag and grabbed a handful of the dried berries and tossed them in the gruel. After she hung the sack back on its peg, she scooped a cup of water from the water bucket and added that to the porridge to loosen it. She stirred the mixture and covered the pot back up. She heard Fendor at the door and opened it for him.
He had shed his cloak, as the rain had ceased its incessant downpour. He came in with a full load of wood and stacked it on the pile of the first logs he brought in. He turned from his work and saw his sword in the place she had first wanted it. Without comment, he went back out.
Gray clouds still filled the sky. The wind blew in little gusts, chasing them along their way. Fendor came back with his cape draped over his arm. He lost the thong that held his hair bound in a braid and strands whipped around his face. One and Two were not with him. They must be off running their pent up energy out of their veins.
"The storm looks to be passed us now," said Elyria. She pointed in the direction the clouds fled. "You can move on to your destination once you’ve eaten." She could hear the eagerness in her own voice. Although she was honor bound to provide for guests to the shrine, Fendor was a mere traveler passing by.
"My horses still need to rest. An hour does not suffice." He entered and closed the door. After hanging his cloak, he turned back to her. "Besides, I promised you fresh meat and I mean to deliver it. I must repay your hospitality to me and my beasts." He grinned at her again. She thought he grinned too often. It made her uneasy.
"Repayment is not necessary, Sir. My deeds were small. Duty says I offer help when the need arises. You owe nothing."
"Let us eat our porridge. It smells like the bottom portion burns." He took wooden bowls and spoons down from one of the shelves. He put the pot lid aside and ladled the porridge in the dishes. He handed one to Elyria and gestured for her to sit. "Later we can discuss indebtedness."
That sounded ominous to Elyria’s mind. She sat on the second stool and ate her meal. She determined to herself to send Fendor on his way as soon as may be. He sat on the other stool and ate from his bowl. He finished rather quickly, due no doubt to ravenous hunger. He took another portion and ate that more slowly.
As they sat in semi-companionable silence, Elyria thought she might bring up Fendor’s leaving again. She debated several tacks she might successfully use. One idea seemed to present itself as the most reasonable course of convincing him that he should go.
"Such a severe frown you display."
Elyria jumped.
"What thoughts hide behind your countenance?"
"I consider the worry your people must be feeling that you are delayed. It would be a kindness for you to relieve them of their grief." She tried to fill her words with as much sincerity and urgency as she could muster.
"There are no people waiting for me." He took her bowl from her and set it aside with his. He gazed into the flames.
"Oh, no? You must have business somewhere, although I still do not understand how you come to be in my out-of-the-way place." She looked at his profile, his large, straight nose and hairless cheeks and chin, trying to figure out the puzzle.
"You are not out of the way. You are exactly where you should be." He spoke into the fire, his voice far away.
"You confound me. What do you mean?"
He turned to face her and looked directly into her blue eyes. "You are my destination."
"I am a little hungry." Fendor grinned. The firelight reflected red dancing flames in his blue eyes.
The hut seemed smaller now with the heat and the light and Fendor’s pack and cloak taking up space in her small home. Elyria noticed Fendor’s sword hanging from his waist. The point almost touched the ground, its length seeming greater than most.
"Yes, I think you must be." Elyria lifted the lid to the pot hanging on its swivel hook by the fire. "I don’t have much here. I have some porridge that can be heated." She swung the arm over the flames, the cast iron pot inhaling the heat.
"That would be a start. I haven’t eaten in two days." He let out a deep sigh. "I ran out of jerky and I had to give my oat cakes to the horses."
"Remove your sword and place it in that corner." She pointed to the spot farthest from the door.
"If I can get something in me, I will go out and get some fresh meat." Fendor untied his sword belt and unwound it from his waist. He pulled up a stool, sat and placed his sword on the floor beside him. The dogs raised their heads at the clank of the metal laid near them.
"Fresh meat would be a treat. We’ll need more wood to keep the fire going to cook meat, though." She went to take his cloak from the hook. "While you are still wet, you should go out and get more." She brought his cloak to him and waited for him to rise and take it. He chuckled and shook his head, slightly. He got up, took the heavy wool garment, placed it over his head and shoulders and started to the door. One and Two rose and joined him.
"I have some dried currents I can add to the porridge, to fortify and refresh you."
"You are too good." Fendor mumbled as he left, the pups trailing after him.
Elyria tried to pick up Fendor’s sword. It weighed more than she could manage. She lifted it by the hilt and dragged it to the back corner and rested it there against the wall. She didn’t feel any more secure but at least the weapon would be harder to get. She would have put it under her oaken chest, but felt that might be too provoking.
That done, she found the pouch marked with her symbol for currents, five red circles. She opened the bag and grabbed a handful of the dried berries and tossed them in the gruel. After she hung the sack back on its peg, she scooped a cup of water from the water bucket and added that to the porridge to loosen it. She stirred the mixture and covered the pot back up. She heard Fendor at the door and opened it for him.
He had shed his cloak, as the rain had ceased its incessant downpour. He came in with a full load of wood and stacked it on the pile of the first logs he brought in. He turned from his work and saw his sword in the place she had first wanted it. Without comment, he went back out.
Gray clouds still filled the sky. The wind blew in little gusts, chasing them along their way. Fendor came back with his cape draped over his arm. He lost the thong that held his hair bound in a braid and strands whipped around his face. One and Two were not with him. They must be off running their pent up energy out of their veins.
"The storm looks to be passed us now," said Elyria. She pointed in the direction the clouds fled. "You can move on to your destination once you’ve eaten." She could hear the eagerness in her own voice. Although she was honor bound to provide for guests to the shrine, Fendor was a mere traveler passing by.
"My horses still need to rest. An hour does not suffice." He entered and closed the door. After hanging his cloak, he turned back to her. "Besides, I promised you fresh meat and I mean to deliver it. I must repay your hospitality to me and my beasts." He grinned at her again. She thought he grinned too often. It made her uneasy.
"Repayment is not necessary, Sir. My deeds were small. Duty says I offer help when the need arises. You owe nothing."
"Let us eat our porridge. It smells like the bottom portion burns." He took wooden bowls and spoons down from one of the shelves. He put the pot lid aside and ladled the porridge in the dishes. He handed one to Elyria and gestured for her to sit. "Later we can discuss indebtedness."
That sounded ominous to Elyria’s mind. She sat on the second stool and ate her meal. She determined to herself to send Fendor on his way as soon as may be. He sat on the other stool and ate from his bowl. He finished rather quickly, due no doubt to ravenous hunger. He took another portion and ate that more slowly.
As they sat in semi-companionable silence, Elyria thought she might bring up Fendor’s leaving again. She debated several tacks she might successfully use. One idea seemed to present itself as the most reasonable course of convincing him that he should go.
"Such a severe frown you display."
Elyria jumped.
"What thoughts hide behind your countenance?"
"I consider the worry your people must be feeling that you are delayed. It would be a kindness for you to relieve them of their grief." She tried to fill her words with as much sincerity and urgency as she could muster.
"There are no people waiting for me." He took her bowl from her and set it aside with his. He gazed into the flames.
"Oh, no? You must have business somewhere, although I still do not understand how you come to be in my out-of-the-way place." She looked at his profile, his large, straight nose and hairless cheeks and chin, trying to figure out the puzzle.
"You are not out of the way. You are exactly where you should be." He spoke into the fire, his voice far away.
"You confound me. What do you mean?"
He turned to face her and looked directly into her blue eyes. "You are my destination."
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
001 - 003 - Coming In From the Storm
"I have a sword." Elyria yelled over all of the noise. She knocked the hilt on the door jam for effect. One and Two jumped at the door, their nails leaving grooves in the wood.
"So do I." The stranger pounded on his side of the door with his sword. "Open up and we can compare. I bet mine is bigger than yours."
Elyria could have sworn she heard him chuckle. "Go away or I will loose the dogs on you."
"I don’t want to hurt your dogs." He rattled the door. He pushed on it. The planks groaned against the log thrown across them to keep the door bolted. "Just tie them up and let me in."
"Go away. You have no business here." The barking of the cubs caused Elyria’s head to ache. She motioned for them to sit and be quiet. They stopped but sat alert and on guard, ready to spring at her signal.
"Thank the gods those dogs have stopped. My head aches." It sounded like he was talking into the crack between the door and the jam. "If I stay out here any longer, I will have to grow gills to breathe. Take pity on a drowning man."
"There’s a shed over to your right hand. Go there."
"Can’t, no room."
"There’s plenty of room for you."
"All three of my horses are in there, packed side to side."
"Put them out."
"No."
Elyria groaned in frustration. At this point, her fear left her and she stomped her foot in irritation. "Just go away."
"Can’t. My horses are exhausted."
"Oh, this is just ridiculous." She paced around in little circles, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers, like spinning wool. She hadn’t bother braiding it today, so it hung loose around her shoulders.
"I agree." His voice came from over by the small window to the right of the door. She saw four fingers wiggling at her from under the bottom edge of the covering.
"I don’t want to let you in." She heard the whine in her voice and cringed.
"You state the obvious." He definitely chuckled this time.
"You try to gain my favor by insulting me? Not a very good strategy." She considered giving in. The Law of Hospitality did demand that she offer shelter to strangers in need. If she kept her distance, with her sword between them and the dogs on guard, she should be safe. He obviously did not intend to leave and the rain continued.
"I enjoy bantering with you, but I have no more energy and I need a fire and hot food." Exhaustion tinged his voice.
"I have no fire. I used all of the wood."
"Poor planning on your part."
"Such sweet words." She smiled. "I used all of the wood in here."
"Do you have wood somewhere out here?"
"Under the awning out back to your left."
"I’ll go get some. Unbolt the door."
Elyria lifted the bar from its brackets and waited until she heard the man return. One and Two jumped up on the cot at Elyria’s signal. The man bumped into the door. She pulled it open and screamed. She jumped back as an avalanche of logs fell into the room. The cubs whimpered. The black flapping beast that entered her cabin shed its skin to reveal a huge, blonde, mustached man.
"Why did you scream for the gods’ sake?"
"You’d scream too if a big, black, monster came in your house."
"I covered the wood and myself with my cloak to keep us dry." He bent and began picking up the logs.
"Well, yes, I can see that now. You just startled me."
The man shook his head. Long, wet hair dripped water down his back. "Pick up some of this wood. Let’s get a fire going. The temperature in here matches that of the outside." He carried the wood across the room to the open, corner hearth and dropped it in a pile. He turned back to the room and looked around. The door stood open and water ran in. His cloak lay on the floor in a heap just inside the door.
"How do you manage on your own?"
"What?"
He pointed around the room.
"You created that mess." Elyria pushed the door closed and began to put the bar back in place, then changed her mind. She heard a chuckle behind her and ignored it. She lifted the cloak from the floor. Water ran down its folds as she hung it on a peg on the wall to the left of the door. She heard the man moving the wood behind her.
When she turned around, the man stood by the bed, petting her dogs and smiling. "I like dogs."
"That’s One and Two. They’re wolf cubs. Very deadly, as you can see."
"Clever names. How long did you have to think before coming up with them?"
Elyria ignored him. She pulled her flints and tinder from a pouch she kept on a shelf by the fire pit. She knelt down and began striking the flints against the wool she stuffed between the neatly stacked logs. The wad caught fire quickly. The aged wood began to burn, lighting up the cabin and dispelling the damp and cold. She stood, slapped her hand on her thigh to call the dogs over and they enjoyed the first warmth they’d had in two days.
The man walked over and joined them. Steam rose from his wet clothes. They all stood together for a long while in silence. One and Two curled up on the hearth and fell asleep. Two began to snore and Elyria giggled. She looked at the man out of the corner of her eyes. He watched her. She felt heat rise into her cheeks.
"What are you called?"
"Elyria. And you? What do they call you?"
"They call me many things." He grinned. "My name is Fendor." Fendor’s stomach gurgled.
"So do I." The stranger pounded on his side of the door with his sword. "Open up and we can compare. I bet mine is bigger than yours."
Elyria could have sworn she heard him chuckle. "Go away or I will loose the dogs on you."
"I don’t want to hurt your dogs." He rattled the door. He pushed on it. The planks groaned against the log thrown across them to keep the door bolted. "Just tie them up and let me in."
"Go away. You have no business here." The barking of the cubs caused Elyria’s head to ache. She motioned for them to sit and be quiet. They stopped but sat alert and on guard, ready to spring at her signal.
"Thank the gods those dogs have stopped. My head aches." It sounded like he was talking into the crack between the door and the jam. "If I stay out here any longer, I will have to grow gills to breathe. Take pity on a drowning man."
"There’s a shed over to your right hand. Go there."
"Can’t, no room."
"There’s plenty of room for you."
"All three of my horses are in there, packed side to side."
"Put them out."
"No."
Elyria groaned in frustration. At this point, her fear left her and she stomped her foot in irritation. "Just go away."
"Can’t. My horses are exhausted."
"Oh, this is just ridiculous." She paced around in little circles, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers, like spinning wool. She hadn’t bother braiding it today, so it hung loose around her shoulders.
"I agree." His voice came from over by the small window to the right of the door. She saw four fingers wiggling at her from under the bottom edge of the covering.
"I don’t want to let you in." She heard the whine in her voice and cringed.
"You state the obvious." He definitely chuckled this time.
"You try to gain my favor by insulting me? Not a very good strategy." She considered giving in. The Law of Hospitality did demand that she offer shelter to strangers in need. If she kept her distance, with her sword between them and the dogs on guard, she should be safe. He obviously did not intend to leave and the rain continued.
"I enjoy bantering with you, but I have no more energy and I need a fire and hot food." Exhaustion tinged his voice.
"I have no fire. I used all of the wood."
"Poor planning on your part."
"Such sweet words." She smiled. "I used all of the wood in here."
"Do you have wood somewhere out here?"
"Under the awning out back to your left."
"I’ll go get some. Unbolt the door."
Elyria lifted the bar from its brackets and waited until she heard the man return. One and Two jumped up on the cot at Elyria’s signal. The man bumped into the door. She pulled it open and screamed. She jumped back as an avalanche of logs fell into the room. The cubs whimpered. The black flapping beast that entered her cabin shed its skin to reveal a huge, blonde, mustached man.
"Why did you scream for the gods’ sake?"
"You’d scream too if a big, black, monster came in your house."
"I covered the wood and myself with my cloak to keep us dry." He bent and began picking up the logs.
"Well, yes, I can see that now. You just startled me."
The man shook his head. Long, wet hair dripped water down his back. "Pick up some of this wood. Let’s get a fire going. The temperature in here matches that of the outside." He carried the wood across the room to the open, corner hearth and dropped it in a pile. He turned back to the room and looked around. The door stood open and water ran in. His cloak lay on the floor in a heap just inside the door.
"How do you manage on your own?"
"What?"
He pointed around the room.
"You created that mess." Elyria pushed the door closed and began to put the bar back in place, then changed her mind. She heard a chuckle behind her and ignored it. She lifted the cloak from the floor. Water ran down its folds as she hung it on a peg on the wall to the left of the door. She heard the man moving the wood behind her.
When she turned around, the man stood by the bed, petting her dogs and smiling. "I like dogs."
"That’s One and Two. They’re wolf cubs. Very deadly, as you can see."
"Clever names. How long did you have to think before coming up with them?"
Elyria ignored him. She pulled her flints and tinder from a pouch she kept on a shelf by the fire pit. She knelt down and began striking the flints against the wool she stuffed between the neatly stacked logs. The wad caught fire quickly. The aged wood began to burn, lighting up the cabin and dispelling the damp and cold. She stood, slapped her hand on her thigh to call the dogs over and they enjoyed the first warmth they’d had in two days.
The man walked over and joined them. Steam rose from his wet clothes. They all stood together for a long while in silence. One and Two curled up on the hearth and fell asleep. Two began to snore and Elyria giggled. She looked at the man out of the corner of her eyes. He watched her. She felt heat rise into her cheeks.
"What are you called?"
"Elyria. And you? What do they call you?"
"They call me many things." He grinned. "My name is Fendor." Fendor’s stomach gurgled.
Monday, January 09, 2006
001 - 002 - The Storm Continues
Elyria rolled over on her back after dislodging her feet and ankles from the weight of her pups. One and Two rose, stretched and settled in again. They howled little yawns that startled themselves. They moved closer to each other, enclosing Elyria’s legs between them.
Elyria felt the walls of her hut closing in on her. She wanted to get out and move around in the woods. She needed to collect the early spring roots before they began to flower. The tender savory onion and fennel bulbs would wake up tastes that had been asleep during the winter months. Many delicate greens would begin sprouting soon and they would add zest to the last of the dried winter meats and the turnips left in stone cellars. A collection of dandelion heads and their tender young leaves taken down to town would get her some of the home crafts that the village folk made while snow blanketed the mountains and salt mining came to a halt. Her wishes included Mother Strobl’s soft wool yarn, an oak bowl from Max Carver, a chemise sewn by Brigitte and if she managed to find early mushrooms, she might get a goat from Hans Herdsman. Fresh milk to drink filled her mind and Elyria drifted off to sleep.
Loud banging and One and Two’s barks jolted Elyria out of a pleasant dream of sun bouncing off of the lake. The cubs stood in front of the hut’s door, the hair on their muzzles standing up, their growls competing with the banging on the door. Elyria jumped out of her bed and grabbed the short sword she kept by her at all times. She inched up to the pups, trying not to startle them from behind. They continued to growl, their ears twitching back and forth picking up the varied sounds. The pounding went on as Elyria sorted out other noises coming from the other side of the barricaded oaken door, not worrying that any damage would be done to it. Made of planks the thickness of a man’s neck, the hinges were not the usual leather but of special iron construction. She moved in closer and heard horses whinnying through the rain. It sounded like three horses although it was hard to be sure through the pounding, yelling and storm. One of the horses beat the ground with its hooves creating great vibrations along the floor of Elyria’s home.
She only heard the one man bellowing on the other side of the door. Other men could be holding the horses. Elyria tried to imagine why they might be outside her house in a raging storm. She untacked a corner of the oiled pig skin covering the window to the right of the door and peeked out.
She caught a glimpse of a dark cloak flapping in the wind and rain. The water poured down from the sky and whipped around in changing angles. She saw the reins of the horses all meeting together and ending somewhere in the folds of the cloak. One of the horses pulled at its handler and bucked, attempting to rear. It thrashed its head and Elyria saw its wild and angry eyes in the flashes of lightening that ripped across the dark sky.
The pounding stopped. Elyria saw the reins pulled off to the left and the horses followed. She heard nothing but the rain. As the minutes passed, the thunder moved off, the time between the lightening and the thunder growing longer and longer. She pulled the tarp closed on the window and breathed a deep sigh. She relaxed her shoulders and sat down on the floor, leaning against the stone wall. The man had moved off. She did not recognize any of the horses, so it couldn’t be anyone from the village with a sickness need. So how did this person come across her hut? It didn’t lie on any normal path. She tried to puzzle it out but no good answer came to her.
Some little time passed and the storm lessened. Elyria lit an oil lamp. She prepared some dried meat for One and Two’s evening meal. Her porridge, cold from the lack of a fire, filled her belly. She drew water from the natural well in the back corner of her hut. She filled a bowl for the puppies and a cup for herself. She pulled out her spinning, not needing much light from many years of practice. The spindle moved between her fingers, up and down, lulling her into a peaceful state. The wolves curled quietly at her feet. They snored gently and she smiled to herself. The rain pattered on the roof. Elyria rolled up her wool. She dropped the spindle on One’s head as the banging started again. This time she heard the man bellowing through the door and over the hysterical howling of the dogs.
"I heard you moving around. I see the light through the cracks." He pounded on the door with both fists. "I demand you open up, in the name of the gods."
Elyria felt the walls of her hut closing in on her. She wanted to get out and move around in the woods. She needed to collect the early spring roots before they began to flower. The tender savory onion and fennel bulbs would wake up tastes that had been asleep during the winter months. Many delicate greens would begin sprouting soon and they would add zest to the last of the dried winter meats and the turnips left in stone cellars. A collection of dandelion heads and their tender young leaves taken down to town would get her some of the home crafts that the village folk made while snow blanketed the mountains and salt mining came to a halt. Her wishes included Mother Strobl’s soft wool yarn, an oak bowl from Max Carver, a chemise sewn by Brigitte and if she managed to find early mushrooms, she might get a goat from Hans Herdsman. Fresh milk to drink filled her mind and Elyria drifted off to sleep.
Loud banging and One and Two’s barks jolted Elyria out of a pleasant dream of sun bouncing off of the lake. The cubs stood in front of the hut’s door, the hair on their muzzles standing up, their growls competing with the banging on the door. Elyria jumped out of her bed and grabbed the short sword she kept by her at all times. She inched up to the pups, trying not to startle them from behind. They continued to growl, their ears twitching back and forth picking up the varied sounds. The pounding went on as Elyria sorted out other noises coming from the other side of the barricaded oaken door, not worrying that any damage would be done to it. Made of planks the thickness of a man’s neck, the hinges were not the usual leather but of special iron construction. She moved in closer and heard horses whinnying through the rain. It sounded like three horses although it was hard to be sure through the pounding, yelling and storm. One of the horses beat the ground with its hooves creating great vibrations along the floor of Elyria’s home.
She only heard the one man bellowing on the other side of the door. Other men could be holding the horses. Elyria tried to imagine why they might be outside her house in a raging storm. She untacked a corner of the oiled pig skin covering the window to the right of the door and peeked out.
She caught a glimpse of a dark cloak flapping in the wind and rain. The water poured down from the sky and whipped around in changing angles. She saw the reins of the horses all meeting together and ending somewhere in the folds of the cloak. One of the horses pulled at its handler and bucked, attempting to rear. It thrashed its head and Elyria saw its wild and angry eyes in the flashes of lightening that ripped across the dark sky.
The pounding stopped. Elyria saw the reins pulled off to the left and the horses followed. She heard nothing but the rain. As the minutes passed, the thunder moved off, the time between the lightening and the thunder growing longer and longer. She pulled the tarp closed on the window and breathed a deep sigh. She relaxed her shoulders and sat down on the floor, leaning against the stone wall. The man had moved off. She did not recognize any of the horses, so it couldn’t be anyone from the village with a sickness need. So how did this person come across her hut? It didn’t lie on any normal path. She tried to puzzle it out but no good answer came to her.
Some little time passed and the storm lessened. Elyria lit an oil lamp. She prepared some dried meat for One and Two’s evening meal. Her porridge, cold from the lack of a fire, filled her belly. She drew water from the natural well in the back corner of her hut. She filled a bowl for the puppies and a cup for herself. She pulled out her spinning, not needing much light from many years of practice. The spindle moved between her fingers, up and down, lulling her into a peaceful state. The wolves curled quietly at her feet. They snored gently and she smiled to herself. The rain pattered on the roof. Elyria rolled up her wool. She dropped the spindle on One’s head as the banging started again. This time she heard the man bellowing through the door and over the hysterical howling of the dogs.
"I heard you moving around. I see the light through the cracks." He pounded on the door with both fists. "I demand you open up, in the name of the gods."
Sunday, January 08, 2006
001 - 001 - The Storm Is Brewing
The rain beat down on the slate roof above Elyria's head. Elyria buried herself further down into the sheep pelts covering her bed. The fire died out several thunder claps ago. The rain poured for three days straight and she burned all of the wood in her hut.
She would stay abed until the storm passed. Each lightening flash made her jump. Her wolf cubs whimpered at her feet and covered their ears with their paws.
She would stay abed until the storm passed. Each lightening flash made her jump. Her wolf cubs whimpered at her feet and covered their ears with their paws.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
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