The Fickle Winds of Autumn

58. An Overturned Cart

Kira strolled comfortably along the verdant lane.

The low autumn sun winked down at her through the thinning canopy of trees; it glinted off the muddy puddles left from last night's rain and bathed the track in soft cadences of mild, yellow warmth.

The faint, mottled birdsong orchestrated a rich score below the chatter of her companions; she inhaled the sweet freshness of the air and the fragrant subtleties of the moist earth.

A shallow ditch ran alongside the path; in the lush of its damp fertility, the purple-jewelled brambles shone against the flushing brilliance of autumn's ruddy hues; discrete clusters of mushrooms peeped out at intervals through the fallen leaf litter and the slowly bronzing bracken.

Her happy shoulders relaxed. Her imagination had told her that this was exactly how the outside world should be - a pleasant, well-worn pathway, leading through the rolling beauty of the countryside, with trusted friends for company and fellowship.

Occasionally, her thoughts ruffled and flickered; they insisted on reminding her of the boredom and frustration of the Convent - the life she was now sauntering back towards.

She was keen to see Amber again - but she could not be certain that she was quite ready to say goodbye to Aldwyn - or to Ellis.

Around a tree-lined bend, an open-topped wagon floundered with its wheels lodged in the ditch.

A plump woman in a crimson-patterned head-scarf waved frantically and called out as she moved towards them, clutching a bundled infant to her chest.

"Oh sirs, please help! It's my husband! His leg! He fell out of the cart when our horse took a fright and landed us in the ditch, and his leg is all broken! And then my poor boy! He fell out after his father and hurt his arm! Oh sirs, what am I to do? Help us, please! Have mercy on us in the Surrounder's good name!"

Kira's body prickled with caution; fraught memories of being captured by the slavers prodded and flashed.

Aldwyn stepped forward.

"I am a healer," he said. "I will see what can be done."

"Oh! Say that you can save him, master healer!" the woman exclaimed. "Say that you can! For I am dying with the worry of it all here, master healer, I am just dying from it all!"

The wagon was burdened with several large, rough sacks.

A muscular brown horse with a tawny mane stood nearby, munching on the thick vegetation of the ditch. It snorted in their direction as they approached, then continued with its meal.

Aldwyn walked round the wagon to the far side; a slight-looking farmer sat wincing on the verge.

"It's my leg, master healer - I was throwed clear of the wagon but landed awkwardly. And my son is hurt too - see to him first, if you please - he put his arms out to stop his fall - it seems his shoulder is in a bad way."

A young boy of four or five was huddled on the ground next to his father, clutching at his arm, shivering and grimacing.

The rotund woman bustled her way through and stood over the group.

"He was a fool to harness old Snowy," she said, pointing towards the horse, "when he knewed all about his temper. I told him not to do it master healer, but would he listen to me? No! Not one bit of it! And off he goes and harnesses old Snowy without so much as a second thought - and now look at us! I ask you - just look at us now!"

Aldwyn crouched and ran his fingers gently down the man's leg, then examined the boy's arm and shoulder.

Kira sat nearby; her curious thoughts bubbled and intrigued.