Chapter Six
Garrow walked with me to the barn, trying to help me ease out of my somewhat automatic formality. I put Karnus in a stall and took off all his tack in record time, laying it on the half wall that separated Karnus' stall and the empty one next to him. I untied my saddle bags and told Garrow I was ready. He carried half of the bags for me and I didn't argue, though I felt I was being rude by not carrying my own things.
Garrow led me back to the house and I waited for him in front of the door, silently seeking permission to enter. He saw the look on my face and a smile broke out when he realized what I was waiting for.
"If you're going to be staying here a while then you might as well get used to just walking right in. This is your home now too." He said. I gave him a small half-smile before I opened the door and stepped into the dimly sunlit room. I took one look around and wondered how they had survived so long without a woman in the house.
The left half of the big front room was the kitchen, and the table, stove, counter, and sink were all overflowing with stuff. There was moldy bread on the table, dirty clothes over the chairs, and half-full cups of milk in the sink. It was a complete pigsty! The right half of the room was the living room, and it was only marginally cleaner than the kitchen. The couch and chairs were piled with items, and the low table was covered in all sorts of dirty tools. The fireplace had ashes spilling out of it from too much time passing without a proper cleaning.
I turned to give Garrow a look that said You have got to be kidding me. He gave me a sheepish grin and then offered to move Eragon into Roran's room so I could take his place. I politely declined, telling him I'd rather sleep on the couch closer to the fire. Garrow gave me a searching gaze before telling me to make myself at home, claiming he was going back out to the fields.
The moment he walked out the door I flopped down on the couch with a sigh of relief. Finally, no one else is around. I could drop the façade.
After a few moments I took a deep breath and got back up, getting to work straight away. I started by cleaning up the kitchen, putting each object in its respective pile before I went to washing dishes and throwing out old junk. I washed and mended the clothes and put them in folded piles next to the hallway so that the boys could sort through them when they came back inside.
Once I had cleaned up the kitchen, which was a much simpler task then I'd originally thought it to be, I worked on the living room. I started with cleaning out the fireplace. I scrubbed the inner walls, swept the ashes out the door, and broke the old wood down into mulch at the fire's base. I mentally reminded myself to go chop some fresh wood before nightfall set.
After the fireplace was clean I went to the work tools. I put them all in a large bucket and carried them over to the sink, spending over an hour scrubbing off the dirt and grime and worm guts that had covered the metal ends of the shovels and picks. I polished the wood ends to a shine and then laid them all neatly on the small table until I figured out where else I was supposed to put them. I turned to go work on something else and then stopped, seeing a small basket sitting by the front door. With a shrug, I placed all the tools gently inside of it and nodded approvingly to myself, getting back to cleaning.
Next, I worked on organizing the items that had gathered in the two chairs and on the floor around them. There were a few books, some more food and clothes, a small collection of rocks and different types of wood, and some broken arrows. As I was about to throw out the small collection of wood and rocks, I stopped my hand. These were beautiful rocks, not just common trash. I realized that one of the boys must be a collector in such small items, so I placed them in a neat little pile on the counter.
I sorted the books and placed them in a neat stack against the far wall in the living room, putting them in alphabetical order and reminding myself to read some of them later, for I loved books. I washed and folded the remaining clothes, adding them to their respective pile by the hallway before glancing at the sofa. The couch was covered in dust and dirt, and could use some deep cleaning before I slept on it tonight. I heaved a great sigh and got to work scrubbing off the dirt stains and polishing the wood framing. I kept the door open to let the winter air in to dry out the couch cushions.
Once that was done, I surveyed my handiwork. The main room was completely clean, and I felt immensely proud of myself. I glanced out at the afternoon sun and figured I had another hour until sunset. I decided to get to work on dinner for the boys, thinking a good meal would help to make a better impression than cleaning up the house. I looked through the cabinets and finally found one where ingredients for bread was, and also found some salted meats hanging out back. I found a small pan of rice that hadn't been cooked yet, so I added that to the meal as well.
I set a pot on the stove full of water to boil, lighting a flame under the metal. As the water began to heat up, I worked on kneading dough into actual bread, putting it in a pan to cook and rise. I salted the meat a little more and then left everything lying on the counter, going outside to chop some wood for the fireplace so that I could start cooking. I found a small axe imbedded in a tree stump and assumed this was where I was supposed to chop wood. Glancing over at the side of the barn, I saw it was unnecessary. Freshly chopped wood was waiting for me there. Smiling, I picked up a few pieces and carried them back inside, oblivious to the eyes that watched me from within the fields.
I placed most of the wood within the fireplace, lighting it and quickly putting a spicket with the meat on it over the flames. I put a couple more pieces of wood inside the stove and put the bread dough inside to start rising. My pot of water was already boiling, so I dumped in the rice and a bit of butter and started mixing.
Within the next hour, the bread had nearly risen and the meat was almost fully cooked. The rice had been pulled off and placed into a bowl, being kept warm by a small flame when I could hear the tramping of feet coming up the dirt path from the fields to the house. I glanced out the open doorway into the sunset's shadows to see three men walking my way. Smiling to myself, I checked on the food and decided to wait another minute before pulling anything out. I let my rust-colored hair down from its clipped-up style and let it wave around my shoulders, all the way down to my waist.
As the boys came in, I didn't even have to glance at them to know they were covered in dirt and dust from the windy afternoon. "Go wash your hands and arms in the sink before sitting down at the table. Dinner will be ready in just a moment." I told them, keeping a fixed eye on the bread. The smallest, and probably youngest, boy shrugged and did as I had requested, quickly followed by the other two.
As they were cleaning up, I watched them from the corner of my eye. The smallest boy seemed to be about my age, with intense brown eyes shadowed by dark eyebrows. He had smaller, stringy muscles that made him seem smaller and weaker than he really was. His nondescript clothing was worn from work, and consisted of a long-sleeved tan cloth shirt and long leather pants. His hair was a short tangled mess of slightly curly blonde-brown hair, and he wore plain workman's boots. Although he couldn't tell that I was watching, he kept glancing over at me in hidden surprise. I easily stifled a smile.
The older boy was a bit different from the younger one. This one looked more like Garrow, only much younger and quite a bit thinner. He had well-built muscles on his torso and arms, and his semi-long face was dark and serious. He had a mass of hair much like the younger boy did; only his was in varying shades of dark brown. He wore the same type of clothing as the other boy did, and had brown eyes that watched all movement with careful attachment. He glanced over at me almost as often as the younger boy did, though his was less noticeable.
As the boys finished cleaning up, I put four plates on the table, one on each side, and put the bowl of ready rice on the left side. I pulled the hot bread out of the oven and doused the flame, putting the bread on the right side of the table. I carried a small platter over to the large fireplace and slipped the ready meat off of the spicket, putting it on the platter and carrying over to the table, setting it in the center. Without saying a word to anyone, I sat down and began to prepare a plate for everyone, putting even amounts on there but leaving extra on the table in case they wanted more. I gave myself very little food, since I wasn't ever really hungry.
The boys all came to sit at the table and add more food to their plate, eating in complete silence for a while. The only sound to be heard was the crickets outside the now tightly-shut door and the horses and chickens down in the barn. The sound of forks scraping on plates and quiet munching were barely noticeable in the silence. At one point, the younger boy burped loudly and the other two glared at him silently. I stifled my laughter, but a small giggle somehow managed to escape. They all glanced sharply at me and I chuckled quietly, eating a piece of bread.
And just like that, the tense atmosphere dissolved around us as we became more comfortable. The older boy chuckled a little at the younger one, who shared a look with him before they both began to laugh. I raised an eyebrow at Garrow in confusion, but he seemed just as puzzled. We both shrugged and returned to our food as I muttered "Weird boys."
They both glanced at me in some shock, since I hadn't spoken a word after they walked in the door. I blushed slightly and ate my food in deep silence. I finished quickly and stood to wash my plate and put it away. The boys watched me with mild surprise; they usually just left their things on the table. The younger one hesitantly got up and came to stand behind me as though to clean his plate too. I turned and held out a hand, which he slowly set the plate in. I took it and turned back around, briskly washing it as he stood there not knowing what to do. Noticing this, I sighed.
"Well, don't just stand there like a dumb calf, go be a dear lamb and sort through that pile of clothes to find out what's yours and take them to your room. Also, if that pile of trinkets on the counter is yours then take them with you as well. If you don't want them then throw them out." I instructed in a soft voice without looking up, drying the plates and putting them back in the cabinets. He quickly went to do as he was told, unsure how to take my orders precisely. He gathered up the trinkets and carried them off down the hallway first, going in the first door on the right and leaving it open.
The older boy stood with more dignity and silently handed me his dirty plate, going to sort through the pile of clothes with a small smile on his face. As I was cleaning his plate, the younger boy came back out of his room and started digging through the pile as well. I put away the cleaned plate and looked at Garrow, who was still sitting at the table. He leaned back in his chair with a happy sigh and folded his hands over his small stomach, relaxing.
I walked over and took up his plate, taking it to the sink to be cleaned. Garrow started to put his feet on the table when I said "No, no, no Garrow. No feet on the table. If you want to relax with your feet up then go sit in the living room; the table in there is clean and waiting for your dirty shoes." I told him, rolling my eyes when he couldn't see. He looked shocked for a split second and then laughed heartily, getting up and slapping a hand down on my shoulder in a warm gesture.
"You don't have to try and act so tough. The boys aren't really that bad. However, it looks like they're about to change their lifestyle a bit, don't you think?" he said, smiling. I smiled too for once and relaxed my stiff shoulders, nodding and going back to my old self. Garrow patted my shoulder in approval and ambled over into the living room, sitting in the chair on the right and putting his feet up on the empty table. I smiled and cleaned off the kitchen table and counter before allowing myself to relax on the sofa, staring pensively into the flames of the fire.
The two boys came back in the room hesitantly, and the older one dashed for the empty chair. The younger one ran after him, trying to get there first. They pushed and shoved against one another until the younger one lost and stood glaring with his arms crossed at the smirking older boy.
"Am I honestly so terrifying that you two have to fight over who gets to sit the furthest away from me?" I asked them quietly, quickly catching their attention. The boys both looked rightfully ashamed of themselves, but the older one still didn't get up. The younger one huffed in annoyance and sat on the left end of the sofa, far away from me. I sighed in slight annoyance.
"If you prefer solitude then be my guest, but otherwise show a little respect and don't make your hesitation so obvious." I told the younger one, who looked even more ashamed of himself than before. I stood up and walked past him to the books I had stacked up, selecting one and returning to my seat on the couch, kicking off my shoes and sitting cross-legged as I opened to the first page of 'Domia abr Wyrda'. This book had the complete history of Alagaesia. With a smile, I began to read the long and detailed book.
For a while I read in silence, keeping my other senses focused on the movements of the fidgety boys in the living room. After a few very long and tense minutes for the boys, Garrow commented "She really doesn't bite boys, she's just a little formal and shy. Once you talk to her a bit she gets better, you'll see. Why don't you all start out by saying 'Hello'?" He suggested with a small smile on his face. He gestured to the older boy as I marked my page and closed the book, giving him my full attention.
I focused my crystal blue eyes with hints of gray on his dark brown ones and he grew still for a very long moment. He quietly gulped and tried to look dignified as he said in a slightly accented voice "Hello, I'm Roran, Garrow's son." He reached a tentative hand out for me to shake, and I accepted it with a shy grip even though my hands were rough from years of working.
In my own strange, lilting accent that no one else in the world seemed to possess, I answered him. "Hello, my name is Ayla Sharmila. I guess I'll be living here for a while." I released his hand and he heaved a sigh of relief, glad that the worst was past.