While facing down a threat, Edvard, Mina, and Yuila encounter a widow and her young son.
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Journeying up the slope to cross the river had set them behind by a day and a half, but Edvard was glad they had. As they moved lower on the slope they could see washed and barren areas where the rains had eroded large expanses of small trees and brush that normally would have anchored the runoff surface. They carefully avoided getting too close to the soft ground and made their way west to where he knew Pantia lay.
He looked momentarily to where Mina's arm came loosely around his waist. She had eased her desperate hold of the first few days, and generally only used one arm now. He could see that most of the bloodstain had come out of the sleeve, leaving the olive material a little darker, but not too noticeable.
To his right Yuila rode the pinto mare, humming to herself as usual as they traveled among the mature broadleaf trees. The mule had been more cooperative lately, and Edvard figured it was because they were now traveling downhill. They reengaged the previous trail near noon, and he knew they would pick up the trade road in another day or so.
A sudden bleating from ahead made the horses stop, their ears pricked forward alertly. The mule pulled at its lead rope, but Edvard ignored him.
Another longer, pitiable bleat sounded and further up the trail they saw a young boy tugging at a small sheep, a wolf pulling at the other end of the small animal. Despite his fear, the boy desperately held onto the sheep as the wolf tossed his head, slinging boy and sheep across the trail.
Edvard was off the gelding and pulling the sword from its scabbard before Mina could speak. She clumsily gathered the reins, watching him quickly cover the trail between them and where the boy and wolf were struggling with the sheep.
Upon seeing Edvard, the wolf dropped the sheep, and turned its snarl on him. The boy collected the bloody sheep and held it close, then paused when he saw another wolf at the other end of the wooded trail. The first wolf growled, its mouth foaming and dripping red, snapping at the sword Edvard brandished.
"Get out of here!" Edvard called to the boy.
The boy backed up a few steps, eyes wide as the sheep in his arms made a moaning sound, but he didn't run away.
Edvard slashed the blade just beneath the wolf, but it dodged, circling him.
For a few moments it was a give and take of lunges and biting, slashes of the sword and swipes, and then a quick thrust of the blade into the mangy animal's side. It fell over to one side, trying to half-drag itself away into the brush. Edvard yanked the sword from the animal.
He turned to where the second wolf was stationed between the boy and sheep and a clearing in the trail. The wolf seemed to be considering its options, too, and slunk meekly away into the deeper trees. Edvard went to where the wolf had collapsed and lay still. He kicked its dead body over, satisfied at the outcome.
He turned to the boy. "Are you hurt?"
The boy shook his head. Edvard judged him to be about a year older than Yuila. The sheep was red and pink in a few spots on its white wool, but not lethally unharmed for the trauma. He knew it could still die from sheer fright, so timid were the small animals.
"Come see my mother," the boy said, hugging the sheep close.
"Where's your mother?"
The boy coddled the sheep that began to squirm. "Not far."
Edvard collected the reins of the gelding and motioned for Yuila to follow.
They trailed the boy to the clearing that broke among the trees along the path farther on. It opened to a more spacious area, and to one side was nestled a rather large dwelling made of logs. Mina nearly forgot her fear of the gelding bolting into the clearing as they were led to the homestead where a low-smoke fire burned in a cook pit near a string of laundry between two trees.
Edvard helped Mina off the horse as an older woman came from around the side of the house. She dropped her basket and rushed to the boy when she saw the strangers. After a moment of the boy's rapid babbling, she picked up her basket and came over to where Edvard and his troupe had halted.
"Thank you," she said loudly. "You've saved my son."
"He's very brave, your son," Edvard said as she came closer. "He wasn't backing down from that wolf."
The woman was much older than she first appeared, her clothes shades of brown and greens, her graying hair sparse, but clean. She studied Yuila, who had pulled up her cloak hood, and Mina in turn, her eyes lingering on each for different reasons.
"Will you take a meal with us?" she finally offered.
The meal was unlike any Mina had ever had. Apparently company was not something the woman, who introduced herself as Eza, had had in a very long time. She butchered a young pig and roasted it over the fire near the clothes that were drying and sent the boy, Donel, to fetch the eggs from the feral chickens. Edvard made Yuila go with him, making sure she had her hood—actually his hood on his cloak, hitched up with a makeshift belt—pulled over her head in an attempt to hide her face.
Over a dinner of roasted pork, boiled potatoes, peanuts, and scrambled eggs on the stout wooden table outside by the front of the cabin, they learned that Eza had had a large family at one time. Her husband had built the roomy house of logs fifteen years ago. She had had eight children, but now it was only her and her second youngest, Donel, after an illness had taken the rest of her family.
They also learned Eza grew peanuts in log boxes filled with runoff silt from the river. These she dug and dried and took to Pantia yearly to buy the few necessities they could not make themselves. Yuila was fascinated by the peanuts Donel offered her, aside from the first mishap of trying to eat the shell and all. Edvard allowed her to remove the cloak after Eza convinced him they were not a threat to the girl.
After the late afternoon meal, Donel and Yuila wandered to the river edge to have a hand at fishing, and Edvard agreed to hunt for Eza in exchange for some supplies. This left Mina with the older woman for the few hours.
Eza watched Mina as they threw scraps to the pigs that were kept in two log fenced pens. Mina kept her attention on the grunting animals that squealed at each other over the potato peels that had dropped on the hard packed clay soil.
"Haven't seen the likes of your kind before," Eza said, observing Mina out of the corner of her eye. "Never seen a real Crone, either. There's a place up the brook where the water gets still. I do my laundry there. Son fishes." She glanced to where Yuila was feeding a handful of grass to a lamb across the yard. "If your escort is wanting to fish."
"Thank you." Mina returned the woman's attention. "You have a nice place here. Garden, livestock, everything."
"What would that Edvard be wanting to trade?"
Mina shrugged, and began to speak as the woman continued.
"Because I have no fancy items."
Mina nodded. Did Eza really think Edvard was collecting fancy items? "He's returning the Crone to her family."
Eza sighed. "If you say so. I have nothing of splendor." She tossed the last of the peelings to the pigs. "But I have something that will heal up his arm just fine."
Mina looked at her questioningly for a moment.
"You will be wanting to tend his arm, wouldn't you? Even a scratch like that needs some tending."
Mina nodded. She was unaware Edvard had been injured in his fight with the wolf. She had only seen him as they ate, and he hadn't said anything of it. Eza probably thought she was uncaring for not doing something about it.
She cleared her throat. "Could I trouble you—?"
"Come with me."
PG13, saga; teen, fantasy, fantasy world travel, tee, teen romance, clean romance, realm, magical realism, shadow world, school/new school, high school, fiction, serial. #ReadFree with free signup. ♫♪
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Thanks to P.G. Waters for the use of her story!