Chapter 5 - Interlude

"Eirik, will you play something on the harmonica?"

It was after dinner, the three residents were sitting around the cleared table, a game of scrabble done with. Mark was restless, having been bound to the house by a pre-spring downpour.

He reached for the little instrument. "I've been trying to remember a melody, but I can't make it out…" he whistled the first few notes, and at the slight lightening of the young man's face threw the harmonica over the table gently.

"If it's not yet time for bed…?" One slanted glance at Lucas, who shrugged and motioned for Eirik to continue, pulling his usual cigar out of the box.

Mark had grasped the principle of the mouth-organ quickly, and Eirik took pains to introduce light melodies, children's songs, a few songs from church, skirting the love-songs and heavier stuff.

Lucas went through the chores and plans for the next few days while listening to the combined efforts…. And realised he was enjoying himself thoroughly, watching his son's face light up at getting a whole verse or refrain correctly, drinking in the new melodies with glowing eyes. The young man's face took on a dreamy expression, losing almost all the careful restraint and wariness usually predominant. He was right smart with diverting his son's impatient frustration, making him laugh over a mistake.

"Did you mean it when you said you could sew your arm yourself if you had to?" Mark's light voice pulled him sharply out of his reverie.

Eirik's arm had healed well, two days after the incident you'd never have known that he had been incapacitated at all. The young man did not shy from work, even if it maybe would have been smart or safer to do so.

Eirik shrugged expressively. "I've apprenticed with a doctor for a few months." There was something evasive about his answer, but Mark was satisfied for the moment.

"And how do you know to write music?"

That was quite the educated farmhand he had gotten himself… Lucas felt his eyes narrow.

"I learned to play the piano when I was half your age, and took it up again a few years ago."

"But the piano is different than a harmonica!"
"Yes, but once you know to read sheet music for the piano, you can read and write music for most any other instrument."

"Really? Cool."

Lucas frowned. It would not do to fill the boy's head with dreams, but on the other hand, he wanted a better life for his son, for him to have dreams… and he did have an ear…

"Do you have siblings?"

"No."

Mark paused, biting his lip. Even the boy noticed that Eirik did not like to talk about his family.

"How did you get the honey?"

"You know how to smoke out bees?"

"Aye." The boy sounded disappointed. "I thought maybe you can talk to them."

Eirik winked at him. "I said I was going to rob them."

Mark chuckled. "And the tablet – Pa said you made it yourself. So you stole a whole comb from them?"

"Aye. Just enough for tablet, and a little more for the honey."
"Can you bring more?"

"I could, but then I might destroy the hive."

"So?"

"So that would be the end of the honey and the wax and the bees."
"Ah. You mean you know where the hive is now and can return?"

"Exactly."

Mark nodded in silent contemplation.

"Didn't you get stung? Even smoking them out – I heard Mr. Valance got stung last time he tried that."

"None too badly, anyways."

And on it went, from the honey to the fur and back to more personal questions about the young man himself. Lukas was getting drowsy with the constant, melodic back and forth. But the farmhand was growing monosyllabic. Finally he leaned back, face drawn.

"Mark, too many questions. I'm really tired. I think I'll go to bed now."

Lukas was almost reluctant to let the young man go – it was seldom that he spoke about his past or his family. Not that he had disclosed anything yet.

"Good night."