Here's another installment. Do enjoy!
..............
Six: Morning In Locher
The next day came with clouds and rain that flowed from rooftop gutters into rain barrels that collected the town’s drinking water. Verdeyan sat and stretched upon the bed, her stiff limbs protesting. She tried to stretch her wings as well, and let out a shriek. The torn skin was pulled open, and blood began to trickle between her shorn feathers.
Olsvei stirred in the bed next to Verdeyan’s, muttering under her breath.
She did not say anything but gazed questioningly at the girl.
Olsvei proceeded to throw a dress over her head, a shawl over her shoulders, and wound a scarf about her head. The cold rain that fell could be seen trickling over the clear amber skylight window.
Verdeyan moved more slowly now, looking down at her own clothing. Her olive green tunic was soiled and torn; the front hanging open. Dried blood made her neck and face itch. She was a mess.
“Come out side. Stand here behind the gate;” Olsvei opened the door to her flat, tugging Verdeyan outdoors. She motioned to a slatted wooden shutter that concealed a small rain deck. Standing beneath the gutter in the bitter water that poured over her skin, she yelped, but let it wash away the dirt and pain. Whatever was going to happen would be whether or not she’d had a bath. And Verdeyan preferred to be clean.
Wrapped in the torn tunic she’d slept in, Verdeyan rushed indoors out of the cold elements.
Olsvei glanced at the dripping, pale girl and smiled with what might have been slight derision.
“I suppose you could use something better to wear. I believe I have something that will fit…” Olsvei tucked back strands of dark brown hair from her eyes as she opened a closet door, pulling something of a hook.
“Ah, my old red dress. It’s woven from squirrel fur, and was died using the pigment of different barks.” She tossed the garment to Verdeyan, who quickly pulled it over her head. The material was wonderfully soft against her body. Why would an adversary so readily provide for her needs?
“Why are you doing this for me?” she whispered.
The woman simply smiled, smoothing the dramatic black and white feathers of her wings. “You’re a child and lost. I may not be a friend, but I am not your enemy either. I feel it is simply right.”
The deep crimson threads of her new clothing seemed to glow in the half-light that filtered through the window in the ceiling.
Wearing her new tunic, which hung to her knees, and her own leggings and boots, Verdeyan felt much stronger than she had in the previous days. She fixed her hair in two braids which she swept over one shoulder in the way of her people.
Olsvei beckoned, opening the door again. “My brother should be at the tavern inside the building. Do not speak to anyone unless they first speak to you. Being crass is a good way to get yourself killed here.”
Verdeyan gazed at the rough floorboards as she followed Olsvei. What would her brother tell them?
Inside the tavern was an array of tables; really barrels with oversize lids; which men and a few haggard women stood around. Olsvei scanned the crowd until she spotted the familiar face. He leaned against a pole that supported the roof; relaxed as he always was. Rosh was a tall, lean fellow of twenty, with a steady yellow gaze and deep blond hair.
“Ols,” he called. A wide smile spread across her heart-shaped face, lighting her eyes with happiness. Her amethyst skirt swished as she hurried over to him.
He took her hand firmly in his, murmuring a greeting.
“It is wonderful to see you, Rosh. How did your journey to Kay’s fare?”
“Well, my merchants retrieved a ton of bark and two hundred pounds of lichen to sell.”
“That is good. Very good. I’ve come into a new endeavor myself. Verdeyan? Come here.”
Rosh eyed the strange girl sharply. She was not a local; her orange hair contrasting the dull browns and greens of the treetop towns.
Olsvei’s brother shifted as he thought, retying the tassels of his tree-leopard fur cape.
A bright feather stuck behind his ear completed the image of an imposing man of wealth. Verdeyan paused, wanting to run. He seemed the sort of man who would buy a captive like her. A man who would not care what became of her. Even Gattlin was preferable to him.
“Yes, Olsvei? Where did this-“ he gestured towards Verdeyan “come from?”
“I found her in the market. Her name is Verdeyan. She’s a Sleveten, a captive of course, who was separated from her master. His name is Gattlin. Have you heard of such a man here?”
“Perhaps. What does he look like?”
Olsvei nudged Verdeyan on the shoulder. Her eyes shone white, the cobalt pupils blazing like lightening. She shook, but squared her shoulders, pressing her brows into a defiant expression.
“He is tall, with dark hair and pale skin. His eyes are deep hazel. I do not care whether you find him.”
Rosh gestured towards Verdeyan with a closed fist. “You are a bold wretch indeed.” He grabbed the girl by her upper arm; jerked one of her wings open.
Verdeyan screamed, and collapsed to her knees on the grimy floor. People in the tavern turned to see what was happening, faces startled, others expectant, hoping for the excitement of a brawl.
“You think you can bully me, don’t you? Rosh. Ha! Sounds similar to ‘fosh’ which in my tribe is the name of a coward. Is that what you are? To bully a weakling like me?”
“Why I should put you in your place, slave. But I’m not that low. Get up!”
He turned to Olsvei, who stood silently. Her expression told nothing of what she thought.
“Must we do this, sister? You owe this urchin nothing. I’d as soon take her to work in the branches; but as you wish. I do know of a man who fits his
description. I met him just yesterday evening. I shall find him if you wish. But mark my words, it would be simpler to turn this wench over to me.”
“She belongs to Gattlin,” Olsvei said sternly, her chin jerking upwards defiantly.
Rosh sighed, scratching his head.
“You can find me in the market square or at the corner street,” Olsvei stated, giving Verdeyan a hand to get up.
With every step she took behind Olsvei as they left the tavern, her injured wing throbbed. Rosh had furthered the damage; Verdeyan felt more blood sliding between her ragged feathers and pain worse than before.
“I imagine you are hungry,” Olsvei said softly as they stood beneath spray of leaves from a branch, out of the rain.
“Yes, oh-” she took in a sharp breath as her wing twinged sharply.
Olsvei took a small knife from a pouch she wore and began to cut bark from the nearby branch that sheltered them from the precipitation. She handed a strip of bark to Verdeyan, and kept one for herself.
Verdeyan proceeded to tear off bits with her teeth, cringing slightly at its bitter taste. Tangy drops of sap stuck to her tongue, easing the acrid flavor of the outer bark. It was chewy but good; filled with the nutrients her gut ached to have.
Olsvei sat down on a rough-hewn wooden stool; Verdeyan followed suit. Gazing off into the grey skies beyond, Verdeyan wondered what her future held. So much had already transpired in the space a few days.
After a few minutes of solace, Olsvei rose and walked towards the second square; this one filled with people bustling past the fountains used for washing and drinking where beggars sat, hoping for a charitable soul to pass.
The next hours until midday were consumed doing household chores. Washing clothing and sweeping the floors; throwing out the old leaf bedding in the mattresses, replacing it with fresh foliage and so on.
It was nearly noon when out on the square washing dishes, someone placed a firm hand on Verdeyan’s shoulder. She whirled, startled, her bare feet sloshing in the puddles by the public fountain. Her rolled-up leggings were sprayed with water as she stumbled, catching herself before she fell face-first into the gutter.
The same hand braced against her upper arm, tugging her upright.
Her heart raced as solemn hazel eyes looked into hers. It was Gattlin.
A leather cap kept the rainwater off his face, making his expression seem darker than it was.
“I trust that you are Verdeyan’s master?” Olsvei had turned to see who was there. She cocked one eyebrow in a questioning look.
“Yes. I was told that you saw after her until now?” Gattlin’s voice was apologetic.
“I suppose. I’m Olsvei. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replied.
Verdeyan shrank back, but Gattlin caught her by the wrist.
“I hope it was not too large a burden,” he stated, “Was she?”
“No. Only confused. She’s an unusual woman, make no mistake.” Olsvei gave Verdeyan a reassuring glance, and nodded graciously.
“Thankyou, Olsvei. You don’t have to worry of finding her in the street again,” he declared.
Verdeyan gazed about apprehensively, her eyes pleading towards Gattlin. What would he do to her? She’d first struck him and marked him with the symbol of evil, then fled from him and caused more frustration and embarrassment.
She slipped her feet into her boots as she walked, pulled along by Gattlin’s hand around her arm.
He guided her to an alley between houses, beneath a clothesline that was empty of all articles of clothing.
Verdeyan shrank back into the corner of the dead end at the back of the narrow passage until the feathers of her wings brushed the rough boards.
Her hands trembled at her sides as he came closer.
He felt his head turn to one side, and sighed. Gattlin stopped perhaps six feet from where Verdeyan stood. He put one hand out, palm up, in a discrete gesture of forgiveness.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said slowly, his eyes exploring the folds of her bloodied wings. She seemed just as tense as before he’d spoken.
“I am sorry this has caused you so much pain. You’re strong, and good. But I don’t know what to do with you. You won’t obey, and you act as if the entire world is your enemy. Verdeyan, if you wish to live without sheer misery, you’ll have to learn to trust.”
She trembled, then put her hand in his. The small movement nearly made Gattlin stumble. This was the first time she’d accepted anything from him without apparent contempt.
She stood tall, and he realized she was about the same age as him.
“You won’t condemn me?”
He laughed coolly. “For the thousandth time, I’m not trying to hurt you.”
...........
Thanks for reading!
-Voxina
