yeah i will speed it up, but not that fast. its a mix of the two people who answered my poll. thanks you two. that was sad, people, i need more feedback!
and im obsessed with sheep, i have a fairy tale that has sheep in it.
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Within two weeks, the house was complete, with thatching and a snug shed for the mare and stallion, and the stock. The chicken coop was built, practically predetor-tight, for the twelve chickens and rooster.
They built a loft, cushioned with hay, above but away from the cooking area. "It can be used for storage," Briar explained. "And we can sit up there sometimes, 'cause the hay is soft."
To the confusion of the others, they built a trap door in the ceiling to open on the gently sloping roof, flat enough to sit outside on. "Why do you need that?!" Weslay exclaimed. "Its...a hole!"
"It's homey," Sandry argued. "It's..." she couldnt continue. Memories of Discipline flooded both she and Briar, so they continued with the "hole," making it complete with a latch on the inside leading to the loft. When staring at the roof from the garden, it's door was completely invisible. During the hot nights, they would lay on the roof and stare into the sky, wondering what the other two were doing, but still afraid to write in case they would be discovered.
They quickly planted the garden and field, Sandry stubbornly helping while cursing her skirts all the while. "If it wouldn't scandalize Tesa and Anitra," she hissed, "I would do away with it all and wear breeches!" She wiped her forehead, dotted with sweat.
Briar laughed. "They would probably gasp and call you a 'modern girl,'" he teased. "But don't worry, I think after planting you won't have to do much of this. Plants are my thing," he said. "Good thing Rosethorn taught me 'bout crops, or we might be having more trouble right now."
"I'll still do the garden, even if I don't work in the field, and i'll help during harvest," she insisted. "Otherwise, what will i do?"
"Watch sheep?" he replied. "You can go all sheperd on me," he teased. "With one of those curly staffs and the dog and everything."
She snorted. "Fun. Well, I can make a string-barrier with yarn, so they can't stray." Sandry paused, thinking. "I wonder if i should tie magic-string collars to them, so if they cannot pass the fence..."
"Lets try? Sheep are boring, i'd hate to have to catch them when they run off."
"Well," she replied waspishly, almost like Rosethorn, "When its snowing in the winter and you're wearing wool, you must thank them and give my sheep a big, sticky kiss for their hard work."
"Aghh!" he groaned again. "I'll pass on that, but I'd be proud to give the clothesmaker a kiss, but not her sheep." He did so once with enthusiasm before continuing on, weeding the rows of corn and wheat of any pests and annoyances.
Sandry stood, gathering several skeins of yarn. "Briar, do you think this will work?" She held out the string, protective herbs woven in, along with bits of paper with protective symbols on it. He nodded, so she took her shovel and buried the string around the field, in one large protective circle.
"Well, just don't try to burrow under the ground, and you'll be fine," she said, after she was done. "I have to figure out something for birds, but it should stop small animals from going under, or through the fence." Sandry gestured to the blue and yellow yarn wrapped around the fence posts. "It's worked for the garden so far."
"Good, and that made the corn happy, or at least they said so."
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During the day, they worked on the crops, garden, and animals, but at night Briar stocked up herbs and Sandry wove at her loom, furnishing their home with blankets and other cloths. "It should be better, when the sheep are ready to be shorn," she said merrily. "Then i can make wool rugs!"
The garden was thriving, its beanstalks twining merrily around its supports, the potato patch was growing happily, and the pumpkins, carrots, lettuce, radishes, and others were green and healthy. The corn, wheat, and barley heads were swelling, as was Sandry's stomach.
"You can't see it much yet, its only been three months," she said, when Briar stared at her repeatedly. "It will get big a few months later! It's barely changed," she insisted.
"Okay," he said, dubious.
Luckily, when the guard came, Briar was absorbed in the corn's growth and Sandry was inside the house baking Lark's fruitbread recipe. She had hung the protection against fire above the oven and fireplace, just in case, as Emmie had advised her to do. "Lest," she said, "the wood and straw catch fire."
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The horse's hooves rang out on dirt road, its rhythm warning Emmie of the approach far before the man himself was visible. "Hello?" the soldier called, trotting up on his horse. "Anyone here?"
Emmie ran out, as she always did. "Hi!"
He dismounted, pulling a piece of paper from his satchel. "I'm here from Emelan, Duke Vedris' capital. We are required to post in every town, city, and village within his lands this paper." He held up a printed poster.
Emmie took it in her hands. "Is someone missing?"
He nodded. "Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, and a Briar Moss." The girl's eyes widened, but she remained calm. "They have been missing from Emelan for about two months. If you see anyone matching these written descriptions, please contact the Duke, and he will be grateful."
"Sure," she said quietly, taking the paper from him. "I'll show this to the others." He saluted her gaily before trotting off in the other direction, to spread the papers farther through the kingdom.
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Emmie stared down at the paper for a second before briskly trotting over to the cottage. Wafts of scent drifted by as the bread cooled on the stone oven. "Sandry?" she said, opening the door.
"Emmie! Come in," was the reply, as Sandry walked out with a basket of linens on her arm. "I'm just going to the river, to wash, while the bread cools off."
"Are you Lady Sandrilene fa Toren?" her friend asked bluntly.
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copyright sorka robinton 2001