Chapter 12
My too-large axe swung pendulously from my hand as I positioned the log for another swing. Once it was placed just so, I took a moment to brace myself for the pain in my head that the effort of the swing would conjure. I swung the axe and it was as if I had swung it into my own face. A lightning bolt of pain shot across my skull, momentarily blinding me and I placed a steadying hand on the log to brace myself through the onslaught.
"God's teeth! Ella!" I heard the sound of something heavy thumping into the soft snow and suddenly a warm presence was at my back, arms around me and prying the axe from my fingers. The smell of clean sweat and hickory smoke enveloped me and I knew it was Joshua behind me, not Benjamin. As the spots cleared from my vision, my complaints began as I failed to continue to just take care of some chores while I'm out. I struggled out of his warm grasp and tried to reclaim the axe but he held it out of my reach, concern etching his face.
"Hold, lass. You'll do yourself a mischief."
The compulsion to do chores left me and I nearly collapsed from the relief. He had been gone nearly the whole day, setting up a fresh-killed deer in the smoke house. I had been changing Georgie's diaper while he was butchering and he had walked out the door calling to take care of a few chores over his shoulder. With the still damp and half unclothed toddler in my hands, I wasn't able to follow and get some specific chores to do or a qualifier of "don't strain yourself" and as a result, I had been unable to rest all day.
Liza and Benjamin had left at first light, Benjamin to cut wood for a elderly neighbor and Liza to take reading and writing lesson from that same neighbor. At lunch, they switched and Benjamin would learn writing and sums and Liza would do a bit of cooking and cleaning. It was an arrangement, I had learned, that had come out of Joshua's wish for his children to be better educated than himself. With the long, mostly uneventful winter ahead, it was entertaining for one or the other to be able to read to the family of an evening from one of the three books that were in the cottage.
Before my arrival, someone would have had to watch Georgie. Often Joshua would just stay close to home or Georgie would be watched by the elderly neighbor, but neither situation was ideal. Georgie was an active, curious toddler and distracting in the lessons and a burden to his father when he had to work outside the house. I was, it seemed, a godsend. In the first week that I stayed with them, no one had left the house for lessons, as the snow had been far too deep and it had been too cold for Benjamin and Liza to walk to the neighbor's house. Since that time, Benjamin and Joshua had cleared a path and lessons had resumed.
When the time came for Benjamin to resume lessons, he had become mulish and had argued that he ought to stay to look after me and Georgie. This surprised everyone as Benjamin was an avid student and I had been swiftly recovering my ability to take care of myself and contribute to the household. He and his father had argued again that night after the children and I were in bed, and though the words were heated, I was unable to make out the subject.
The relationship between Benjamin and Joshua was often strained, but on occasion, you could see the remainder of what had been an easy comradery.
When I had begun to recover and was able to walk short distances, I started to tentatively broach the subject of returning to Dame Olga's manor. It was at dinner, about a week after I had awoken in earnest when I ventured, "how long do you think it will be before I am able to travel back to Dame Olga's? I'm sure someone has missed me by now. We should send a note at least…" I trailed off because every face at the table had given me a variation on incredulity or humor.
Joshua had replied, "Oh, lovey, I thought you had worked it out already, there is no leaving this village until spring now." He chuckled, "you were this village's last import before the pass closed."
My first response was anger and as I helped clear up dinner, I was in such a towering rage that I had to step outside the cottage to cool myself after I nearly trapped Georgie's fingers between two plates while clearing them. I was angry that I was trapped here against my will, but soon my anger was worn down by guilt. These people had been good to me, cared for me when I was injured and fed me from their own pot, even when I was too ill to help out. I asked myself what I had expected Joshua to do. He could have left me in the snow to die or taken me somewhere, but he would have been risking that the pass would be clogged with snow by the time he got there. He would have been cut off from his children for the season with no way to contact them or provide the last necessary supplies he had had with him. I reasoned that there was nothing for me at Olga's that I was eager to return to. Without warning, my temper turned to deep sadness and I began to weep uncontrollably. Benjamin had come outside to fetch me and had wrapped me in his own cloak. I had been unable to help myself and had wept into his sturdy, homespun shoulder until the cold had driven us back inside. Joshua was busy putting Georgie to bed and Benjamin sat with me in front of the fire, layering blankets on me and running his huge hand down my back in a soothing gesture. He talked quietly about inconsequential things until my weeping stopped then offered me a cup of tea.
"I know this is a pretty humble place," he began awkwardly, "you are probably used to much better, living in a manor, like you do." He pushed a soft curl off his forehead, only to have it flop back into his eyes. He was so earnest.
"This is a much nicer place to live," I had said, "you are lucky to have a place of your own and no one to lord over you." I sipped at my tea and watched the fire.
"What is your manor like?" He asked curiously, then hastened to add, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want!"
When I looked at him, his face was shining with interest and concern that his question would be taken poorly. I giggle wetly and told him all about the manor, mostly about the staff and how large and beautifully decorated it was. I avoided talking about my step-family and he didn't ask, just soaking up what I had to say like a sponge. I hadn't disabused them of the idea that I was a runaway servant, because for the most part, I was.
For nights after that, we had talked about places near and far that I had seen, people that we knew and ideas. The words seemed to fill him with longing for places that were different from here. I'm sure he did not believe that I had truly met ogres and giants, but he never doubted me to my face.
Just as I grew close to Benjamin in the evening, I grew close to Joshua during the day. We were companionable while completing the household chores and worked seamlessly as a team. He always had a joke or story to tell and was very solicitous of my wellbeing. He asked my opinion of his plans and actually listened to my answers.
And, as I grew closer to them, their fights grew worse. When I would retire to bed with Liza and Georgie, I would often hear them quietly arguing in the other room. Frequently, when I rose in the morning, Benjamin would be asleep on the hearth instead of sleeping in the other bed with his father.
With all of us in such close quarters, our tempers frayed easily and even Liza was snappish by the time they were able to return to their lessons.
But that had been days ago. Now I was swaying with fatigue under Joshua's fearful gaze.
"I'm sorry lass," Joshua whispered, concern for me pouring from him. "What ever possessed you to try chopping wood with your injury." He steadied me then pulled off his cloak, draping me in it and picked me up in his arms. I struggled against him, I could walk to the house after all. My struggles ended with a firm, "let it be, lass," from him and I let him carry me indoors.
He laid me in the chair by the fire kneeling next to me as Georgie put up a hew and cry of happy greeting, leaping on his father's back and covering his face with slobbery kisses. Joshua absently patted the boy and gazed at me intently.
"Are you addled, girl, you could have killed yourself," he said in a low voice to me when Georgie had returned to his toys.
"I know," I began to cry with frustration and he stroked my shoulder then my cheek, trying to understand and sooth me. "I ran out of light chores," I sniffed.
At this he finally took a good look around him and his eyes widened with shock. Every dish was clean and put away, every spare piece of clothing was clean and drying by the fire. Dinner was cooking in the large iron pot in the fireplace. The floor was swept, carpets beaten and cleaned, fireplace cleaned and a new fire laid. Even the bedding was airing and the straw mattresses had been repacked into their bed boxes. I was certain that the cottage had never been so clean since it was built. Every spider had been evicted, every dust bunny displaced, every surface dusted, washed and the wood oiled and gleaming. Every sock had been darned, each piece of clothing neatly mended. As I had told him, I had run out of tasks long before he had returned.
"My God, lass, you do the work of ten men!" He sounded awestruck and I smiled at him weakly. Every muscle I had was aching, and my head was thundering against my skull. "I will make you some tea." He did so, marvelling at the shining cleanliness of the kettle as he filled it and hung it to heat next to the soup pot. "I've never seen the place so clean, even when my wife…" he cut off abruptly and concentrated on scooping tea leaves into the pot.
"What was she like?" I asked gently and he sighed before turning back to me.
"She was very much like you, smart and funny, hardworking and full of life. She even had the same tiny feet," he laughed as he looked at my foot protruding from the cloak. "Green eyes, dark hair, you could be her cousin at least."
"When I met her, she was living with the Aunty, who is related to her somehow, but I've never really determined how. That was when I first settled up here and built my house. She was very kind and would come tend the garden and the chickens while I was working on the house. We worked well together and one day, she just asked me if I wanted her to live with me."
"She told me that she thought love was like a fire, it starts small and you feed it all the time and it grows, but if it was too big too soon, it would consume everything then burn out. Well, I had been looking to see if she was looking at me for months and trying to work up the courage to court her and here she had saved me the trouble all together."
"She always had trouble bearing children though, she lost many babies between the ones we have, that's why they are so far apart in age. Then Georgie came along and that was it. She passed the next day." He was staring into the fire with the teapot in his hand, watching the kettle, absentmindedly tracing the glazed flower on the side of the crockery with his finger. Then he shook himself out of his reverie and smiled at me, filling the teapot and setting it on the table to steep.
There was a clattering in the yard, then and Benjamin and Liza burst in the door with the dog at their heels, bringing cold air and a flurry of snowflakes with them. They began to unbundle themselves and Benjamin turned to us, "the Aunty came to Granny Nicol's to let her know about a storm brewing, we'll all be snowed in this time tomorrow, she says."
"I've never known the Aunty to be wrong about weather witching," Joshua stated before rising and retrieving his cloak from me. "Looks like you had the right idea, lass." He swirled the cloak around him and winked at me roguishly before heading out the door. I heard the sounds of chopping start up shortly after.
Benjamin was not far behind, plucking up his unstrung bow in a mittened hand and retrying his hat. He gave me a serious look and a nod before exiting the house. Liza left right behind them with the bucket of animal feed and her milk bucket and stool. Georgie, Bear and I were left alone and he climbed up onto my lap and promptly fell asleep while the dog curled himself in front of the fire.
I stroked Georgie's silky baby hair and thought about what Joshua had told me. Georgie had to be over a year old already, I was surprised that Joshua hadn't sought a new wife in that time. The people in the village I knew were very phlegmatic about seeking a spouse just to have help with the household and the children. There would have been a lineup of spinsters and young widows down the mountain six months to the day after his wife's passing if this had been the village back home. Joshua would have been considered quite a catch with a house, cow and strong, healthy children. Besides, Benjamin would likely want to make a match of his own soon and he wouldn't lack for prospects either, tall, smart, handsome and good natured as he was. Then it would just be Liza and Georgie at home, and as competent as she was, Liza was only a child. Mandy had always said, 'no good comes of babes raising babes.'
I stayed that way, with Georgie on my lap until the others returned, easing my aching head and muscles by dozing under the boy's solid warmth.
Benjamin had some luck with his snares but hadn't managed to shoot anything. The front door was stacked around with a short palisade of chopped wood, so the snow wouldn't block the door and so we wouldn't have to venture all the way to the woodpile. All the animals were cushioned in fresh straw and fed to bursting in the lean-to and a rope was tied from the lean-to to the front door so anyone could find their way, even in a blizzard. We hunkered down, ensuring that the fire was well fed and ate the stew I had prepared earlier. The whole family was subdued by the ever increasing howl of the storm that beat against the sturdy walls. Everyone turned in early to save candle light for the days of the storm. The premature darkness had us all yawning into our stew anyway. Benjamin washed the dishes while I dried and Joshua put Georgie and Liza to bed.
"Would you tell me again about the gnomes you met?" he asked quietly.
"It was only a very brief meeting," I prevaricated.
"A very brief meeting is still longer than I've ever spent with a gnome," he wheedled, dimpling at me.
"Well, a baby gnome was lost from its parents and I calmed him and returned him to his mother. I know a gnomish greeting so I was able to calm the baby enough so he would come with me." I recounted briefly.
"Where did you learn a gnomish greeting?" he asked, looking curiously down at me.
"Um, from a parrot at the Royal Menagerie. The parrot keeper liked me, so he would tell me what the parrots were saying."
"You've been in the Royal Menagerie?!" he exclaimed, before lowering his voice again. "I heard they have ogres, do they?"
"Yes, but they are really well guarded, you can't get very close to them at all."
I tried my best to steer the conversation away from me and towards the things I had seen and learned like how to say hello in gnomish and ogre and similar things. When the dishes were done, Benjamin went to bed with a few choice words in a half-dozen new languages and was absolutely delighted.
I went to join the children and found that the bed was fully occupied by Liza, Georgie and Joshua, who had clearly fallen asleep while administering the goodnight cuddle. I was not the only person who had had a long and tiring day.
Rather than disturbing them, I took a blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped it around myself, cuddling into the embrace of the fireside chair. I gazed deeply into the shifting fire shadows as the painted themselves over the walls and thought about the last few weeks.
I still hadn't gotten up the courage to read the letter that had sent me out into the storm in the first place, partly due to my father's penchant for thoughtless orders in writing and partly a lingering discomfort caused by the injury I had sustained in trying to get it read the first time. If I did read the letter and my father ordered me to go somewhere, I could die out in the snow trying to get through a winter-closed pass with my bare hands. I wasn't ready to ask Benjamin or Joshua to read it for me. It wasn't that I didn't trust them, in general, but I had learned anyone could be tempted by the prospect of my absolute obedience.
I pulled out the letter and looked at the smudged outer surface with equal parts curiosity and mild nausea at the thought of what could be inside. Was it orders for me to marry father's rich northern friend, was it a different marriage offer? Was it just an injunction to behave well with me step-family? That last made me grimace with distaste.
I had considered before that father's rich friend would be a possible choice for marriage if I was pregnant. I thought it through again and decided it was increasingly unlikely to work out as it seemed I would be trapped in this village until spring. I began calculating weeks in my head and concluded that if I was pregnant and the pass reopened in March I would already be four months along by then. It would be far past the time when I could marry and pass off a child as my husband's. I fretted, what was I going to do! If I was pregnant and wanted a husband, barring an extremely early spring, I would have to choose someone here…
In fact I would be almost a month along now…
My brain ground to a halt as the thought struck me with deceptive slowness, I bolted upright in the chair. If I was pregnant, my magic book told me I would have no courses this month. My courses would have begun...some not so quick math...a week ago, when Benjamin and Liza started taking classes again.
I thought hard, what were the other early signs...mood swings, I had cried all over Benjamin after being incandescently angry. Tender breasts... I grabbed my chest and squeezed, then winced away at the dull ache. Nausea… I had terrible nausea but I had chalked it up to the head injury. Weariness...I had fallen asleep in a chair just this afternoon.
I clutched my arms across my middle and rocked myself back and forth. All of a sudden, my hypothetical worst scenario had become reality.
