Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock) (32 page)

“
But I haven
’
t agreed yet,
”
Jordy protested.

The Greenmother faced him, quite serious now.
“
You are my choice, carter Jordy. There are others who would buy her, you know. To their profit, not to hers. She cannot stay with me. Choose.
”

Jordy stood and ran one hand through his hair.
“
All right. She can stay. But only as long as she wants to.
”

“
Good. I won
’
t stay the night myself, thank you,
”
Jenil continued smoothly, knowing as well as Jordy did that he hadn
’
t intended to ask her to.
“
Good night.
”

“
Safe journey,
”
Jordy responded automatically and moved to open the door for her. He stood on the porch and watched as she strode briskly across his yard and out of sight. Then he went back inside.

Cyril was clearing their empty bowls into the dish water on the hearth. Iris had resumed her original posture, eyes downcast, motionless.

Jordy
’
s head hurt. Dealing with Dreamers always made his head hurt. What he needed was to regain his objectivity, distance himself from the problem.
“
I
’
ve got to oil that harness,
”
he told his wife, and went to the stable to think.

* * *

Vray sat stiffly where she was for many minutes after the carter left, waiting for his wife to tell her what to do. The woman, however, said nothing. It was unexpected to find one of the horse people in central Rhenlan. But the woman
’
s cinnamon-brown skin, wide face, and almond-shaped eyes were distinctive of the plains dwellers who roamed the lands east of Soza. She finished straightening up after the family
’
s meal, then refilled a pot with something that smelled like cider and hung it on a spit over the banked fire. After a long while one of the little girls poked her head through the curtained doorway near the hearth.

“
Mama?
”
she asked in a small voice. The woman looked up.
“
The water
’
s hot.
”
The woman circled the table as though Vray were not there and picked up a low basket filled with muddy clothing. The little girl popped back out of sight, her mother following.

In the next room the two little girls began chattering, their words not quite audible, although Vray could not help but strain to hear them. Asking about the stranger sitting at their table, certainly. She couldn
’
t hear any reply from the woman, and after a few more moments passed began to feel more uneasy than ever. Was she supposed to offer to help with something? How was she going to learn to live among these people?

For a few more minutes she simply sat, uncertain how to behave, unable to summon up the courage to do anything one way or another. In the end, basic practicality forced her to leave the table and walk to the front door. Her bladder needed to be relieved. This was a farm. The appropriate facilities would be outside.

She walked away from the house, then stopped near the middle of the yard and looked around. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, painting the clouds that lingered in the northwest shades of red and purple. To the east, the sky was clear and dark enough to show the first bright stars. In front of her, directly across the yard from the house, was a large building that smelled distinctly of horses. Beyond it and to her right, a chicken coop stood silhouetted against the eastern sky. To her left, the yard sloped gently downhill. Vray thought she could pick out another one or two smaller buildings in that direction, and a low line of hedge or fence. The privy, fortunately, was immediately recognizable at the end of a well-worn path that angled downhill from the house.

When she came out of the privy the sky overhead was black and studded with stars. She started back toward the house, a looming shadow against the lingering light in the western sky. She wasn
’
t ready to go back inside. From a nearby tree came the hoot of an owl. Vray hugged herself under her cloak.

The door to the house closed with a sharp thump, and footsteps descended the path toward her. Vray didn
’
t stop to think. She left the path and moved quickly up the hill, at an angle away from the house. Although it was too dark to see her feet, the ground was smooth and she didn
’
t stumble.

She emerged onto level ground only a few paces away from the stable. Half of a large double door stood open, spilling yellow lamp light a dozen feet across the yard. The effect was too peaceful, too normal. She could almost hear the voice of her nurse, spinning a sweet tale about hard-working Keepers and mellow light bathing the farmyard at the end of the day. Vray made a sour face in the darkness. Tales and songs. How much did they neglect to reveal of what lay beneath the surface of an event, or behind people
’
s actions?

Or,
she chided herself,
within a picturesquely lighted old barn?

She moved cautiously forward. Only one lantern was lit, hung close to the doorway, so she could make out little of the interior. The musty fragrance of hay hinted at the presence of a loft.

The carter sat on a stool in front of a wagon, vigorously applying a cloth to the set of harness straps in his lap. Vray hadn
’
t dared look at him during his conversation with Jenil, so she was glad of the opportunity to study him from the safe obscurity of the darkness beyond the circle of light. Her first thought was that he was too small to be a carter. Then she immediately revised her estimation. He was actually quite average in size for a Keeper man, but she had been expecting broad shoulders and brawny arms. She guessed his age at something past middle age, perhaps forty. His complexion was pale, the backs of his hands sprinkled with freckles and fine hair that glinted gold in the lamp light. The hair on his head was a sandy yellow, combed straight back from his forehead and showing signs of thinning. He wore no beard. The lines of his face suggested that he smiled more often than frowned, but his eyes as he looked back at her seemed an icy shade of blue.

Vray
’
s thoughts froze. He was looking at her!

He stopped what he was doing and rested the hand holding the cloth on his knee.
“
Come in, my girl. Don
’
t look away,
”
he added, as she automatically began to lower her eyes.

She jerked her head up and found that it wasn
’
t as difficult as she had feared to meet his steady gaze. She came slowly forward until she was standing only a few feet in front of him.

“
Have you known Jenil long?
”
he asked.

“
No.
”
Vray
’
s voice sounded rusty to her own ears, and she hastily cleared her throat.
“
I don
’
t really know her at all.
”

The blue eyes narrowed, appraising her.
“
You have friends though, among the Mothers?
”

“
No.
”

His expression softened.
“
No friends? A child your age? That
’
s not right.
”

An unwelcome lump formed at the back of her throat. Sympathy from this stranger, to whom she was an uninvited guest dumped on his doorstep, was the last thing she
’
d expected. It had been a long, wet, exhausting day. She didn
’
t understand why she suddenly had the urge to pour out her life history. Considering how muddled her emotions were, she didn
’
t trust any of them.

“
I survive,
”
she answered shortly.

To her relief he changed the subject.
“
Sit down,
”
he instructed her. The straw-
covered floor was not uncomfortable.
“
What do you do, Iris?
”

She stared at him blankly.
“
Do?
”

“
Aye. Do you cook? Work in the fields? Study a craft?
”

“
Mostly I clean things.
”
She had no intention of telling him that when she hadn
’
t been slaving in Soza
’
s kitchen, the things she had cleaned had been diseased bodies, to ready them for burial. Honorable enough duty, but not very good to remember.

His response was a considered silence. Vray swallowed nervously, wondering if she should elaborate, at least about the kitchen. Before she could come to a decision he said,
“
In this family we all do our share of cleaning. You
’
ll have to diversify your talents, my girl.
”
He paused, inviting a response.

Vray only felt more lost.
“
Oh,
”
she offered.

He put the harness on the ground and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“
All right, child, perhaps I
’
m asking too much too quickly. We
’
ll take our time, find out where your talents lie. Tomorrow you can help Cyril with her cooking. Have you ever milked a goat, or fed chickens?
”

“
No, carter Jordy.
”

“
Jordy will do. As for the animals, Cyril will teach you. Have you ever done any needlework?
”

Her eyes were drawn automatically to the sleeves of his tunic, dangling less than a foot away from her. She saw that what she had at first taken for a textured weave in the fabric was, in fact, unusually rich embroidery on ordinary cloth.
“
Not like that,
”
she said.

“
I
’
m not surprised. Take a closer look.
”
He extended one arm toward her.
“
Go on.
”

Gingerly, she picked up the edge of the sleeve and straightened it. As a princess she had been taught some intricate needlework, but nothing to match this. It was not, she decided, that the stitches themselves were especially small, for they were not. But they crossed over and under one another in ways her eyes could not unravel.

“
You like it,
”
his voice said gruffly above her head.

“
It
’
s beautiful,
”
she murmured.

“
If you have patience and a good eye, Cyril will teach you, I
’
m sure.
”

She dropped the sleeve and sat back abruptly. He looked startled, worried, and offended all at once.

“
Now what did I say? What
’
s the matter, my girl? Speak up!
”

“
I
’
ll do what I
’
m told, of course, but
….”

“
But?
”
he prompted her.

“
I don
’
t think your good wife is pleased to have me here.
”

“
I
’
m sure she
’
s neither pleased nor displeased. We don
’
t know you yet.
”

All of Vray
’
s misery returned in a rush. Words escaped before she could stop them.
“
I can
’
t. It
’
s better to be mistreated than to be ignored. She said nothing to me. She won
’
t accept me
—”

“
By the Rock!
”
He stood angrily, and Vray cowered, berating herself for a fool for having entrusted any of her thoughts to a stranger.
“
If Jenil is going to meddle she could at least make a thorough job of it! Did she tell you nothing about us?
”

Numbly, Vray shook her head.

He visibly bit back on his anger.
“
It
’
s not your fault, lass. Jenil should have warned you. Cyril doesn
’
t speak.
”