Chapter 2: Pleasant Change of Scenery
Sounds. I heard sounds. Hushed voices coming down a long, long tunnel. "Come look, Mama, her eyelid's twitching. So're her ears."
"She's....I think she's waking up."
"I'll go get mama."
Silence. No, more sounds. A scrape, like wood or maybe...feet. Footsteps, coming closer. Then my world tilted slightly and I reeled with vertigo. Wait, I tilted slightly, because the world didn't do that. Wasn't supposed to, was it?
"Can you hear me?" The tunnel had gone, fled I supposed. This voice was clear and close. Yes, I can hear you. Oh, that wasn't out loud. I willed myself to produce sounds and surprisedly discovered that one must use one's mouth to do that. And my mouth wasn't willing. It was stuck...had I ever used it before? With effort, I was actually able to open it.
God it felt terrible. Something in my jaw made a cracking noise. My tongue was dry on the roof of my mouth, and some sort of sick, damp, gurgling sound fought its way out of my throat. The taste doesn't bear description. "Whoa, it's ok. Take it easy," the Voice urged. I felt gentle pressure on my arm. Wow, I had arms... I had a whole body.
And with that encouraging realization, I opened my eyes. Bad idea.
The world is a bright, bright place. Yes, it is. I groaned [well it was supposed to be a groan, but what I managed was more of a high-pitched wheeze] and shut my eyes tight. Why me? And then I remembered just a little bit of the answer. My head hurt terribly.
I managed to use my newly opened mouth to suck in air. Ah, wonderful. "Settle down," the Voice commanded firmly. Sure, but I had things to do, important things to do. By now I remembered everything. I fought to rise. However, my body was stiff and weak; I felt like I was trying to bend steel. This hurts. But the wound; it feels old now. It hurts. After fifteen agonizing seconds of trying - and about seven more "Settle down."s - I gave up and fell back on the bed. I gasped for air; I was sore. I wanted to see again.
I cracked my eyelids open. The light wasn't so bad this time. The blankets were cream-colored, lumpy, and obviously homespun. My bed was quite a lot of these blankets heaped together to make a sort of pallet on the floor, the dirt floor. I was dressed in a large, loose smock of the same material...but... Where in the hell was I? With heroic effort I turned my head to the side and looked upon the Voice. The Voice was now the Girl.
"Satisfied now?" she asked. She shook her head, red curls bobbing gently around her shoulders. She was a few years younger than me; her green eyes were narrow with annoyance and concern. That quickly melted away, only to be replaced with bubbly excitement. "You've been asleep for a whole month now. That's amazing! When we found you, well, we didn't know if you were going to make it. But me and Nell, that's my sister, we wouldn't let mama just leave you. She said you were dying, but you lived! I knew you would," she stopped gushing just long enough to flash a brilliant smile, "I knew you would because you're a fighter! Yeah, I could tell even then, because warriors come from the north, and that's where you come from. Right? I knew it! You're a wandering warrior! You must have been ambushed by rogue samurai and - "
"Riana!" a new voice squawked, "Shut your mouth and fetch some water, and I mean NOW!"
Riana's mouth snapped shut with a painful clank and that brilliant smile ran and hid somewhere. She positively jumped up and fled to wherever water came from. As for me, I took a second to let my head stop spinning . . . man, that girl could talk . . . A whole month? That couldn't be right...and where? ...Why?... The last thing I remember is the blood...
A black-haired woman, older than she should have been, worn by too many years of too many responsibilities, took Riana's place at my side. She kneeled carefully and looked me straight in the eyes before speaking.
"You are awake. My name is Narie, and my daughters are Riana and Ranonelle. We're not too far from the village of Stillwater; I am the healer.
"We took you in..." Here she paused to give me a look that would have blackened the sun. " ...out of the goodness of our hearts. You had a terrible wound, but it has been taken care of. You have been here, in my care, for almost a month now. The first three nights were the worst; you nearly bled to death. Then you caught infection and fever," she continued rattling off the story emotionlessly, as if reporting to an officer. "You barely woke at all, and when you did you were delirious. The fever went away a week ago, so did the infection. Today is the first day that you've woken up. You are almost well now.
"I am a healer, and my daughters and I were glad to care for you. You may stay as long as you need to, but you see..." She paused and fidgeted, searching for words.
"Things are going well for us. We live a quiet, orderly life here. I heal, and my daughters and I spin and sell wool. We make enough to keep us warm, fed, happy. I wouldn't want anything to upset this balance. I wouldn't want any...trouble... to come upon my family," Narie finished tersely.
Her brown eyes bored into mine, just daring me to cause any trouble, any at all. She smelled of stubbornness, and of fear. I could see the worry wrinkles on her brow and the peasant sunburn on her cheeks. A wounded cat, come out of the night, and with a slaver's mark burned onto her shoulder was everything she didn't need. And that was me. I could bring the worst trouble, the kind that would come and take whatever things they felt like away with them: sheep, food, tools . . . daughters.
I didn't want to cause her trouble. She'd seen too much already. "I understand," I rasped weakly. She looked at me carefully, as if she would be able to see a lie perched on my forehead. I lowered my gaze, face calm, smile placid. Years of court life hadn't been entirely wasted on me. The harsh lines of her eyes softened the tiniest bit and a slow smile spread across her face. Maybe I wasn't such a bad cat, after all.
"Would you like to try sitting up now?" Narie asked.
I looked at her doubtfully.
"I think you can handle it," she said.
I nodded carefully to her. The woman put one arm behind my back and held me up as she slid a few pillows underneath me. I felt small and childlike as she gently placed me back upon the pillows. I didn't know whether to like it or not. I sighed as my stiff muscles settled; the room was more interesting from this angle.
Fading daylight shone in through two empty, west-facing windows, softly illuminating the small room. There wasn't much in it, just a small fireplace on the south wall, a worn wooden table with three worn chairs in the center of the room, and two mismatched cupboards on the wall opposite the fireplace. A hand woven blanket covered one bedroom doorway on the east wall. I realized, with gratitude, that I had been placed in a corner near the warm hearth. Chipped plates and cups were stacked on the table, a black pot and kettle rested on the hearth, and empty, clay water jugs hung by the door that led outside. I felt restless as I looked at that door.
I should have been out there, should have been doing something besides just lying on the floor ... I sneezed and came back to myself.
Narie was digging in the smaller cupboard. The whole thing was shaking as she muttered and searched for some buried item. Clouds of spices billowed out from it and mingled in the air. It was just my luck that a bunch of pepper would fly into my face. Damn it all! I sneezed again and turned my watering eyes to the ceiling. A thousand different herbs were drying, tied to the rafters.
Finally, just when it seemed that the cupboard would fall over, Narie smirked triumphantly and pulled out a small wooden box. She bustled importantly over to the hearth and opened it for me to see the precious contents - hard-won for peasants - before placing the strong-smelling box next to the kettle. The warmth of her smile reflected in her brown eyes as she said, "We'll have some tea after dinner. I'm sure you have a long story to tell."
I smiled crookedly and rasped softly, "Your daughter thinks that I'm a warrior."
"Riana has an imagination," Narie picked up the black pot, walked to the door and took an empty jug as well, "I know I told her to go and fetch some water, but right now she's probably running over the hills to tell Nell - my older daughter - to leave the sheep and come home because the mysterious adventurer has finally woken." Narie smiled and shook her head as she opened the door and stepped out. She paused for a second to lean against the frame and say, "I blame my husband - rest his soul - really. Always telling her those silly stories. Ah, but he was a good man." Then she was gone.
A few minutes later, she was walking back in, water sloshing over the sides of the black pot and onto her threadbare skirts and bare feet. She knelt heavily to place it on the hook over the fireplace and light the wood. The flickering light threw new shadows over the room and the sharp lines of her face. Her black hair seemed darker as she straightened up. "The girls are home," she remarked. And indeed, the door was flung open and two breathless girls tumbled in.
"Mama, I was bringing the flock in and Riana ran up and started jabbering on about the cat. She said she woke up. Is it true?" asked one girl. Her hair was as red-gold as her sister's, though cropped short, and her green eyes were wide with suspicious excitement. She must have been Nell, the older sister.
Riana dodged around her and yelped, "I told you she never believes me, Mama! Tell her I'm right!" The girl shifted from foot to foot, waiting for sweet vindication. I could have told her it wasn't coming.
"Riana," Narie said, "where's my water?"
"Oh...well," Riana stuttered, "it was; I mean ... I forgot?"
Narie glared dangerously.
"I mean ... I ... I'm getting it right now," Riana finished and scurried back outside.
"No you're not!" snapped Narie, "You kept me waiting so long that I went and got it myself. Come in here and chop the carrots and potatoes. We're having soup tonight. And Nell, dear," she rounded on her eldest, "for your sake, you better have brought the sheep in before running home ... "
"Riana said it was important and - " Nell tried to explain.
"Hurry, before they scatter again!"
"Right!"
I lay back and watched as night fell and dinner unfolded. It was almost like a play. At first it was all frantic running and chopping, then there were about three small crises ["I don't like potatoes!" "I thought it was basil..." "You're spilling everywhere!"] but gradually, the panic subsided and there was only the gentle bubbling of the soup and the soft crackling of the fire. The finale was a delicious dinner, served around the hearth.
I was a bit embarrassed that they were having dinner on the floor because of me, but I don't think they even noticed the difference; they were all smiling. I felt a twinge, and I recognized it as jealousy. They were obviously close, and for all her yelling, Narie was a very loving mother. Riana and Nell got along almost perfectly. They must have been best friends as well as sisters. Narie helped me lift the bowl to my mouth as I slurped broth; she said I could try solids if I wanted, but I didn't feel like pressing my luck. It was good broth, anyway.
Afterward, we sat around the warm fire, contented and almost sleepy. Well, who was I kidding, I was sleepy. I was even weaker than I had thought. I snapped out of the slight doze that I had fallen into as Narie replaced the soup with the kettle and added a few more sticks to the fire. She looked over at me and smiled. Nell and Riana were also smiling and Riana turned to me and said, "We don't get to drink tea very often, but I love it." We hadn't talked much over the soup, but we were comfortable with each other and had at least gotten past 'My name is...' and 'The weather's been nice lately.' I had even gotten from them a vague sense of where I was, near Stillwater and in Lon Denai, a country that's two month's journey from Palas.
"I loved it too," I replied, shifting on the blankets.
"What do you mean 'loved'?" asked Nell. She was the shrewd one; hardly anything got by her.
I hadn't even realized that I'd said it that way. I took a breath and wondered how to explain. "I used to have it a lot, but then I couldn't anymore. It doesn't matter much, though."
The firelight shone in the girls' wide eyes - and even Narie's. I was suddenly the center of attention. "A lot, you mean, like, all the time? Even every day?" Riana asked.
"If I had wanted," I said softly, and turned my gaze to the fire, "but that doesn't matter much." A small grin crept onto my face, "It doesn't matter at all."
"Every day," Nell echoed, and let out a sigh. Narie had a blank look on her face, not doubting the truth of my words, but having a hard time grasping it.
"Were you a princess?" Riana gasped, all the hope and happy endings she had ever heard swimming in her big green eyes. She unconsciously clenched the edge of my blanket in her hands as she waited for my answer. Nell held her breath and stared intensely at the fire, trying to pretend that she didn't care. Narie settled comfortably and merely pulled her hair out of the bun she'd had it in.
I looked at them and smiled. Then I took a deep breath and said, "Something like that."
Riana squealed and bounced on her knees, Narie let out a shocked giggle, and Nell gasped before yelling over Riana's joyous squealing, "Wait! What do you mean by that?"
A wave of memory washed over me and I said, "Have you ever been to Fanelia?"
"No! That's so far! Tell us, Meruru, tell us all about it!"
And so I told them. I told them about the most beautiful valleys and the fiercest dragons, of the silence of a royal throne room and the bustle of a Fanelian market. I told them about what happens when a swordsman finds a little catgirl and brings her home, of how she grows up under international conference tables and has princes for brothers. I amazed them with masque balls and royal entourages. I spent a whole hour explaining a pomegranate and the way an opal shines.
I watched as my life filled their heads and stretched their dreams. They grabbed on to everything I told them, hardly daring to believe it. They laughed, and they cried; they waited breathless for the end of each daring episode. They could almost taste the Fanelian wine.
I yawned as I began to tell them about the day that Folken-sama left to slay a dragon. I really was tired. My hand shook as I sipped a bit of tea. It had gotten cold. I glanced at the girls and their mother. Their eyes were glassy and growing red for want of sleep but they were still alert and waiting for more. I took a helpless breath and was about to start, when Narie shook herself and shouldered the responsibilities of a mother and healer again.
"Meruru, dear," She groaned as she got to her feet, "You need your rest. I'm sorry we've kept you up this long, and the whole time badgering you with all these questions. You must be dead tired." Riana and Nell stifled complaints and the urge to beg me for more as they remembered that I was still healing and that they were tired themselves.
Narie kindly took my tea from me and gathered the dishes as the girls took the extra vegetables to the outside cellar and banked the fire for the night. I wished I could help them; it was the least I could do to repay them. I would have died without their care. That was really something to think about. If they weren't who they were, I would be dead. Gone. My heart went cold for a second as I realized that without them, my revenge would have died with me, and that would have been a shame.
* * *
I forgot my dream as soon as I woke up. I had a vague feeling that it had been happy; I had woken up smiling. It was still night. The room was dark, and I could hear someone scuffling cautiously toward the hearth and scraping cold soup into a bowl. I looked and saw that it was Nell, tiptoeing around so that I wouldn't wake up. A muttered curse when the spoon dropped made me snort with laughter. Nell froze suddenly, and then relaxed. "Are you awake, Meruru?" she whispered.
"Yeah," I whispered back. I was glad that she couldn't see my grin.
"You can see me, can't you?" she asked curiously. She edged over carefully, hands feeling in the dark, and sat down next to me.
"Yeah," I told her.
"Someone said that you would be able to, but I didn't believe him."
"Who?"
"Ran," she said shyly.
"I knew someone named Ran once," I replied. I was silent a moment, lost in memory. Ah, Ran, that idiot. I couldn't help grinning at the thought of him. I stopped before it could hurt and asked, "So who exactly knows that I'm here?"
"Everyone around here, really. It's big news when someone new shows up, especially someone as interesting as you, if I may say so."
Oh, this was just great. "Do they know that I'm...that I was...a slave?" I asked, letting the hateful word fall out of my mouth.
"Oh, no!" she answered, forgetting to whisper. "Mama told us to tell no one about that."
"Your mother is wise," I sighed. Nell opened her mouth to say something but then stopped. She didn't understand and was too embarrassed to ask. I sighed again and said, "You know, a slave is worth a lot of money."
Nell's eyes opened wide as she suddenly understood. "Oh, Meruru! I won't tell anyone, I promise!" She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. "We're the same age, Meruru, you and me. But you're so...I don't know...it's just...I can't even think about some of the things...you know what I mean," she whispered apologetically.
I didn't really know what to say, but I tried anyway. "Nell, we're not that much different, even if we are. I'm like you, I guess. But I've just been thrown into so many things... and, honestly, if I could...I'd cut off my tail to make some of the things I've been through undone and untrue." I felt an old pain coming over me. I'd kept it down and hidden for so long, and now it fought it's way out. I dug my claws into the blankets.
"Nell, I wish that I could have grown up like you. I have so much to do, but when I'm done I'm going to live like this. Just like this," I whispered fiercely. The weight of memories was crushing me. I felt sorry for poor Nell, listening to my rantings in the dark. I struggled to fight off the pain in my heart, to put it away again. Silence reigned for one long minute.
"Take my hand, Meruru, I know you can see it," Nell commanded. She held up her right hand. I was shocked for a second but I did as she said. "Let's be friends, Meruru," she smiled down at our hands, "and when you're done with what you have to do, and you want to live just like this, come live here."
I remembered doing something like this before, saying words like this before, and I bit back tears for someone I used to know.
"Are you crying, Meruru?" Nell asked, feeling me shake.
"No, I'm not." I squeezed her hand and said, "Let's be friends, Nell."
"Forever?" She smiled and squeezed back.
"Forever and a day," I promised.
* * *
.
The next two weeks passed by slowly for me. But I was getting stronger and could stay awake longer. I was becoming a better storyteller too, and had actually managed to finish telling the Destiny War. It had been long and hard, and I noticed as I told it that I was able to tell the girls so much more than I had ever told the court historians.
I sheepishly admitted this to Nell, and she smiled widely and said, "What are friends for?" I didn't really get it, or maybe I did because I felt the warmth rising on my cheeks. Nell laughed, and so did I.
For the past week I had been spending time each day trying to sit up on my own. My wound ached whenever I tried this, and Narie cuffed me around the head the fifth time she caught me saying, "For the gods' sake, Meruru! You're going to pull something!"
I kept trying anyway, whenever the others went to sleep, and actually managed to stay sitting without any support for long periods of time. I couldn't manage standing and walking though, and I always ended up falling to sleep exhausted and disappointed. I wondered if I wouldn't be happy until I could sling a sword again.
At night I dreamed of running, swimming, and throwing, any type of movement. The door and the world beyond called to me. I began unraveling my blanket in fits of annoyance [I stopped wringing my tail when I noticed a tiny bald spot on the end.] Nell noticed, and brought me a box of colored string and wooden beads. She taught me how to make bracelets and other trinkets to sell at the market. "This should keep you busy, Meruru," she laughed.
I smiled, embarrassed as I realized how immature I had been acting. I tried to quit sulking and to be productive. After all, I had waited a whole month while I slept, and I could wait longer. I'd have my chance to make things right.
I spent my days laughing with Nell and Riana, teaching them to do their hair like the ladies at court and gossiping about boys. Narie let me chop and peel for her, and I often found myself holding large amounts of yarn around my hands as she knitted. I would often forget myself and bat at the oh-so-tempting string, causing the girls to laugh. I was beginning to feel as if I had always been there, at the cottage, and probably always would be. It felt good.
Evenings were spent around the glow of the hearth. As the fire settled I looked into it and spoke. After all, my story wasn't over. It started after the war, in the time when Fanelia was being brought back to life. You see, my story had just begun.
Sounds. I heard sounds. Hushed voices coming down a long, long tunnel. "Come look, Mama, her eyelid's twitching. So're her ears."
"She's....I think she's waking up."
"I'll go get mama."
Silence. No, more sounds. A scrape, like wood or maybe...feet. Footsteps, coming closer. Then my world tilted slightly and I reeled with vertigo. Wait, I tilted slightly, because the world didn't do that. Wasn't supposed to, was it?
"Can you hear me?" The tunnel had gone, fled I supposed. This voice was clear and close. Yes, I can hear you. Oh, that wasn't out loud. I willed myself to produce sounds and surprisedly discovered that one must use one's mouth to do that. And my mouth wasn't willing. It was stuck...had I ever used it before? With effort, I was actually able to open it.
God it felt terrible. Something in my jaw made a cracking noise. My tongue was dry on the roof of my mouth, and some sort of sick, damp, gurgling sound fought its way out of my throat. The taste doesn't bear description. "Whoa, it's ok. Take it easy," the Voice urged. I felt gentle pressure on my arm. Wow, I had arms... I had a whole body.
And with that encouraging realization, I opened my eyes. Bad idea.
The world is a bright, bright place. Yes, it is. I groaned [well it was supposed to be a groan, but what I managed was more of a high-pitched wheeze] and shut my eyes tight. Why me? And then I remembered just a little bit of the answer. My head hurt terribly.
I managed to use my newly opened mouth to suck in air. Ah, wonderful. "Settle down," the Voice commanded firmly. Sure, but I had things to do, important things to do. By now I remembered everything. I fought to rise. However, my body was stiff and weak; I felt like I was trying to bend steel. This hurts. But the wound; it feels old now. It hurts. After fifteen agonizing seconds of trying - and about seven more "Settle down."s - I gave up and fell back on the bed. I gasped for air; I was sore. I wanted to see again.
I cracked my eyelids open. The light wasn't so bad this time. The blankets were cream-colored, lumpy, and obviously homespun. My bed was quite a lot of these blankets heaped together to make a sort of pallet on the floor, the dirt floor. I was dressed in a large, loose smock of the same material...but... Where in the hell was I? With heroic effort I turned my head to the side and looked upon the Voice. The Voice was now the Girl.
"Satisfied now?" she asked. She shook her head, red curls bobbing gently around her shoulders. She was a few years younger than me; her green eyes were narrow with annoyance and concern. That quickly melted away, only to be replaced with bubbly excitement. "You've been asleep for a whole month now. That's amazing! When we found you, well, we didn't know if you were going to make it. But me and Nell, that's my sister, we wouldn't let mama just leave you. She said you were dying, but you lived! I knew you would," she stopped gushing just long enough to flash a brilliant smile, "I knew you would because you're a fighter! Yeah, I could tell even then, because warriors come from the north, and that's where you come from. Right? I knew it! You're a wandering warrior! You must have been ambushed by rogue samurai and - "
"Riana!" a new voice squawked, "Shut your mouth and fetch some water, and I mean NOW!"
Riana's mouth snapped shut with a painful clank and that brilliant smile ran and hid somewhere. She positively jumped up and fled to wherever water came from. As for me, I took a second to let my head stop spinning . . . man, that girl could talk . . . A whole month? That couldn't be right...and where? ...Why?... The last thing I remember is the blood...
A black-haired woman, older than she should have been, worn by too many years of too many responsibilities, took Riana's place at my side. She kneeled carefully and looked me straight in the eyes before speaking.
"You are awake. My name is Narie, and my daughters are Riana and Ranonelle. We're not too far from the village of Stillwater; I am the healer.
"We took you in..." Here she paused to give me a look that would have blackened the sun. " ...out of the goodness of our hearts. You had a terrible wound, but it has been taken care of. You have been here, in my care, for almost a month now. The first three nights were the worst; you nearly bled to death. Then you caught infection and fever," she continued rattling off the story emotionlessly, as if reporting to an officer. "You barely woke at all, and when you did you were delirious. The fever went away a week ago, so did the infection. Today is the first day that you've woken up. You are almost well now.
"I am a healer, and my daughters and I were glad to care for you. You may stay as long as you need to, but you see..." She paused and fidgeted, searching for words.
"Things are going well for us. We live a quiet, orderly life here. I heal, and my daughters and I spin and sell wool. We make enough to keep us warm, fed, happy. I wouldn't want anything to upset this balance. I wouldn't want any...trouble... to come upon my family," Narie finished tersely.
Her brown eyes bored into mine, just daring me to cause any trouble, any at all. She smelled of stubbornness, and of fear. I could see the worry wrinkles on her brow and the peasant sunburn on her cheeks. A wounded cat, come out of the night, and with a slaver's mark burned onto her shoulder was everything she didn't need. And that was me. I could bring the worst trouble, the kind that would come and take whatever things they felt like away with them: sheep, food, tools . . . daughters.
I didn't want to cause her trouble. She'd seen too much already. "I understand," I rasped weakly. She looked at me carefully, as if she would be able to see a lie perched on my forehead. I lowered my gaze, face calm, smile placid. Years of court life hadn't been entirely wasted on me. The harsh lines of her eyes softened the tiniest bit and a slow smile spread across her face. Maybe I wasn't such a bad cat, after all.
"Would you like to try sitting up now?" Narie asked.
I looked at her doubtfully.
"I think you can handle it," she said.
I nodded carefully to her. The woman put one arm behind my back and held me up as she slid a few pillows underneath me. I felt small and childlike as she gently placed me back upon the pillows. I didn't know whether to like it or not. I sighed as my stiff muscles settled; the room was more interesting from this angle.
Fading daylight shone in through two empty, west-facing windows, softly illuminating the small room. There wasn't much in it, just a small fireplace on the south wall, a worn wooden table with three worn chairs in the center of the room, and two mismatched cupboards on the wall opposite the fireplace. A hand woven blanket covered one bedroom doorway on the east wall. I realized, with gratitude, that I had been placed in a corner near the warm hearth. Chipped plates and cups were stacked on the table, a black pot and kettle rested on the hearth, and empty, clay water jugs hung by the door that led outside. I felt restless as I looked at that door.
I should have been out there, should have been doing something besides just lying on the floor ... I sneezed and came back to myself.
Narie was digging in the smaller cupboard. The whole thing was shaking as she muttered and searched for some buried item. Clouds of spices billowed out from it and mingled in the air. It was just my luck that a bunch of pepper would fly into my face. Damn it all! I sneezed again and turned my watering eyes to the ceiling. A thousand different herbs were drying, tied to the rafters.
Finally, just when it seemed that the cupboard would fall over, Narie smirked triumphantly and pulled out a small wooden box. She bustled importantly over to the hearth and opened it for me to see the precious contents - hard-won for peasants - before placing the strong-smelling box next to the kettle. The warmth of her smile reflected in her brown eyes as she said, "We'll have some tea after dinner. I'm sure you have a long story to tell."
I smiled crookedly and rasped softly, "Your daughter thinks that I'm a warrior."
"Riana has an imagination," Narie picked up the black pot, walked to the door and took an empty jug as well, "I know I told her to go and fetch some water, but right now she's probably running over the hills to tell Nell - my older daughter - to leave the sheep and come home because the mysterious adventurer has finally woken." Narie smiled and shook her head as she opened the door and stepped out. She paused for a second to lean against the frame and say, "I blame my husband - rest his soul - really. Always telling her those silly stories. Ah, but he was a good man." Then she was gone.
A few minutes later, she was walking back in, water sloshing over the sides of the black pot and onto her threadbare skirts and bare feet. She knelt heavily to place it on the hook over the fireplace and light the wood. The flickering light threw new shadows over the room and the sharp lines of her face. Her black hair seemed darker as she straightened up. "The girls are home," she remarked. And indeed, the door was flung open and two breathless girls tumbled in.
"Mama, I was bringing the flock in and Riana ran up and started jabbering on about the cat. She said she woke up. Is it true?" asked one girl. Her hair was as red-gold as her sister's, though cropped short, and her green eyes were wide with suspicious excitement. She must have been Nell, the older sister.
Riana dodged around her and yelped, "I told you she never believes me, Mama! Tell her I'm right!" The girl shifted from foot to foot, waiting for sweet vindication. I could have told her it wasn't coming.
"Riana," Narie said, "where's my water?"
"Oh...well," Riana stuttered, "it was; I mean ... I forgot?"
Narie glared dangerously.
"I mean ... I ... I'm getting it right now," Riana finished and scurried back outside.
"No you're not!" snapped Narie, "You kept me waiting so long that I went and got it myself. Come in here and chop the carrots and potatoes. We're having soup tonight. And Nell, dear," she rounded on her eldest, "for your sake, you better have brought the sheep in before running home ... "
"Riana said it was important and - " Nell tried to explain.
"Hurry, before they scatter again!"
"Right!"
I lay back and watched as night fell and dinner unfolded. It was almost like a play. At first it was all frantic running and chopping, then there were about three small crises ["I don't like potatoes!" "I thought it was basil..." "You're spilling everywhere!"] but gradually, the panic subsided and there was only the gentle bubbling of the soup and the soft crackling of the fire. The finale was a delicious dinner, served around the hearth.
I was a bit embarrassed that they were having dinner on the floor because of me, but I don't think they even noticed the difference; they were all smiling. I felt a twinge, and I recognized it as jealousy. They were obviously close, and for all her yelling, Narie was a very loving mother. Riana and Nell got along almost perfectly. They must have been best friends as well as sisters. Narie helped me lift the bowl to my mouth as I slurped broth; she said I could try solids if I wanted, but I didn't feel like pressing my luck. It was good broth, anyway.
Afterward, we sat around the warm fire, contented and almost sleepy. Well, who was I kidding, I was sleepy. I was even weaker than I had thought. I snapped out of the slight doze that I had fallen into as Narie replaced the soup with the kettle and added a few more sticks to the fire. She looked over at me and smiled. Nell and Riana were also smiling and Riana turned to me and said, "We don't get to drink tea very often, but I love it." We hadn't talked much over the soup, but we were comfortable with each other and had at least gotten past 'My name is...' and 'The weather's been nice lately.' I had even gotten from them a vague sense of where I was, near Stillwater and in Lon Denai, a country that's two month's journey from Palas.
"I loved it too," I replied, shifting on the blankets.
"What do you mean 'loved'?" asked Nell. She was the shrewd one; hardly anything got by her.
I hadn't even realized that I'd said it that way. I took a breath and wondered how to explain. "I used to have it a lot, but then I couldn't anymore. It doesn't matter much, though."
The firelight shone in the girls' wide eyes - and even Narie's. I was suddenly the center of attention. "A lot, you mean, like, all the time? Even every day?" Riana asked.
"If I had wanted," I said softly, and turned my gaze to the fire, "but that doesn't matter much." A small grin crept onto my face, "It doesn't matter at all."
"Every day," Nell echoed, and let out a sigh. Narie had a blank look on her face, not doubting the truth of my words, but having a hard time grasping it.
"Were you a princess?" Riana gasped, all the hope and happy endings she had ever heard swimming in her big green eyes. She unconsciously clenched the edge of my blanket in her hands as she waited for my answer. Nell held her breath and stared intensely at the fire, trying to pretend that she didn't care. Narie settled comfortably and merely pulled her hair out of the bun she'd had it in.
I looked at them and smiled. Then I took a deep breath and said, "Something like that."
Riana squealed and bounced on her knees, Narie let out a shocked giggle, and Nell gasped before yelling over Riana's joyous squealing, "Wait! What do you mean by that?"
A wave of memory washed over me and I said, "Have you ever been to Fanelia?"
"No! That's so far! Tell us, Meruru, tell us all about it!"
And so I told them. I told them about the most beautiful valleys and the fiercest dragons, of the silence of a royal throne room and the bustle of a Fanelian market. I told them about what happens when a swordsman finds a little catgirl and brings her home, of how she grows up under international conference tables and has princes for brothers. I amazed them with masque balls and royal entourages. I spent a whole hour explaining a pomegranate and the way an opal shines.
I watched as my life filled their heads and stretched their dreams. They grabbed on to everything I told them, hardly daring to believe it. They laughed, and they cried; they waited breathless for the end of each daring episode. They could almost taste the Fanelian wine.
I yawned as I began to tell them about the day that Folken-sama left to slay a dragon. I really was tired. My hand shook as I sipped a bit of tea. It had gotten cold. I glanced at the girls and their mother. Their eyes were glassy and growing red for want of sleep but they were still alert and waiting for more. I took a helpless breath and was about to start, when Narie shook herself and shouldered the responsibilities of a mother and healer again.
"Meruru, dear," She groaned as she got to her feet, "You need your rest. I'm sorry we've kept you up this long, and the whole time badgering you with all these questions. You must be dead tired." Riana and Nell stifled complaints and the urge to beg me for more as they remembered that I was still healing and that they were tired themselves.
Narie kindly took my tea from me and gathered the dishes as the girls took the extra vegetables to the outside cellar and banked the fire for the night. I wished I could help them; it was the least I could do to repay them. I would have died without their care. That was really something to think about. If they weren't who they were, I would be dead. Gone. My heart went cold for a second as I realized that without them, my revenge would have died with me, and that would have been a shame.
* * *
I forgot my dream as soon as I woke up. I had a vague feeling that it had been happy; I had woken up smiling. It was still night. The room was dark, and I could hear someone scuffling cautiously toward the hearth and scraping cold soup into a bowl. I looked and saw that it was Nell, tiptoeing around so that I wouldn't wake up. A muttered curse when the spoon dropped made me snort with laughter. Nell froze suddenly, and then relaxed. "Are you awake, Meruru?" she whispered.
"Yeah," I whispered back. I was glad that she couldn't see my grin.
"You can see me, can't you?" she asked curiously. She edged over carefully, hands feeling in the dark, and sat down next to me.
"Yeah," I told her.
"Someone said that you would be able to, but I didn't believe him."
"Who?"
"Ran," she said shyly.
"I knew someone named Ran once," I replied. I was silent a moment, lost in memory. Ah, Ran, that idiot. I couldn't help grinning at the thought of him. I stopped before it could hurt and asked, "So who exactly knows that I'm here?"
"Everyone around here, really. It's big news when someone new shows up, especially someone as interesting as you, if I may say so."
Oh, this was just great. "Do they know that I'm...that I was...a slave?" I asked, letting the hateful word fall out of my mouth.
"Oh, no!" she answered, forgetting to whisper. "Mama told us to tell no one about that."
"Your mother is wise," I sighed. Nell opened her mouth to say something but then stopped. She didn't understand and was too embarrassed to ask. I sighed again and said, "You know, a slave is worth a lot of money."
Nell's eyes opened wide as she suddenly understood. "Oh, Meruru! I won't tell anyone, I promise!" She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. "We're the same age, Meruru, you and me. But you're so...I don't know...it's just...I can't even think about some of the things...you know what I mean," she whispered apologetically.
I didn't really know what to say, but I tried anyway. "Nell, we're not that much different, even if we are. I'm like you, I guess. But I've just been thrown into so many things... and, honestly, if I could...I'd cut off my tail to make some of the things I've been through undone and untrue." I felt an old pain coming over me. I'd kept it down and hidden for so long, and now it fought it's way out. I dug my claws into the blankets.
"Nell, I wish that I could have grown up like you. I have so much to do, but when I'm done I'm going to live like this. Just like this," I whispered fiercely. The weight of memories was crushing me. I felt sorry for poor Nell, listening to my rantings in the dark. I struggled to fight off the pain in my heart, to put it away again. Silence reigned for one long minute.
"Take my hand, Meruru, I know you can see it," Nell commanded. She held up her right hand. I was shocked for a second but I did as she said. "Let's be friends, Meruru," she smiled down at our hands, "and when you're done with what you have to do, and you want to live just like this, come live here."
I remembered doing something like this before, saying words like this before, and I bit back tears for someone I used to know.
"Are you crying, Meruru?" Nell asked, feeling me shake.
"No, I'm not." I squeezed her hand and said, "Let's be friends, Nell."
"Forever?" She smiled and squeezed back.
"Forever and a day," I promised.
* * *
.
The next two weeks passed by slowly for me. But I was getting stronger and could stay awake longer. I was becoming a better storyteller too, and had actually managed to finish telling the Destiny War. It had been long and hard, and I noticed as I told it that I was able to tell the girls so much more than I had ever told the court historians.
I sheepishly admitted this to Nell, and she smiled widely and said, "What are friends for?" I didn't really get it, or maybe I did because I felt the warmth rising on my cheeks. Nell laughed, and so did I.
For the past week I had been spending time each day trying to sit up on my own. My wound ached whenever I tried this, and Narie cuffed me around the head the fifth time she caught me saying, "For the gods' sake, Meruru! You're going to pull something!"
I kept trying anyway, whenever the others went to sleep, and actually managed to stay sitting without any support for long periods of time. I couldn't manage standing and walking though, and I always ended up falling to sleep exhausted and disappointed. I wondered if I wouldn't be happy until I could sling a sword again.
At night I dreamed of running, swimming, and throwing, any type of movement. The door and the world beyond called to me. I began unraveling my blanket in fits of annoyance [I stopped wringing my tail when I noticed a tiny bald spot on the end.] Nell noticed, and brought me a box of colored string and wooden beads. She taught me how to make bracelets and other trinkets to sell at the market. "This should keep you busy, Meruru," she laughed.
I smiled, embarrassed as I realized how immature I had been acting. I tried to quit sulking and to be productive. After all, I had waited a whole month while I slept, and I could wait longer. I'd have my chance to make things right.
I spent my days laughing with Nell and Riana, teaching them to do their hair like the ladies at court and gossiping about boys. Narie let me chop and peel for her, and I often found myself holding large amounts of yarn around my hands as she knitted. I would often forget myself and bat at the oh-so-tempting string, causing the girls to laugh. I was beginning to feel as if I had always been there, at the cottage, and probably always would be. It felt good.
Evenings were spent around the glow of the hearth. As the fire settled I looked into it and spoke. After all, my story wasn't over. It started after the war, in the time when Fanelia was being brought back to life. You see, my story had just begun.