12
Shihiri reappeared, passing through the bushes without a sound and before Únik could even react. The way the Fae girl moved through the forest, anywhere, made Únik feel like an ox navigating a tiny one room shack. Settling beside both Únik and Hatyara, the Fae moved her eyes in all directions before she allowed herself to relax. Únik couldn't say she felt surprised at the stealthiness of the Fae, her race were, after all, denizens of forests, but it still caused her to jump every time Shihiri would reappear.
"Arthid awaits. He has agreed to help any way he can." Almost without thinking, the Fae ran her hands over Barsa's side, checking the hound's injuries. She gave a small nod, then hooked her head towards Hatyara. "She'd better stay here with me. People will have questions if an Ice-Kin begins walking through the village."
"Why should I?" Without caring about remaining hidden, Hatyara stood, curling her hands into fists. "Why must I have to stay out in the cold while she gets to enter the village?"
Shihiri grabbed Hatyara's arm, yanking her back to the ground, a threatening scowl upon her face and Hatyara clamped her jaw closed at the expression. The Ice-Kin had removed the fur wrappings around her arms, legs and chest, leaving her wearing the clothes Únik had found her in. Hatyara had complained about feeling too warm, now she complained of becoming left in the cold. Únik could do nothing but shake her head.
"The people of Uriok are both superstitious and wary of strangers." Únik felt certain she had mentioned this before, or something similar. "If they see an Ice-Kin walking around, especially dressed like that, the rumours will spread to other villages and towns before we've passed down the first street!"
Hatyara looked down towards her clothing. The multi-coloured wrapping around her small breasts, almost see-through, as were the similar coloured pantaloons, along with the girl's cool, light blue skin and vibrant white hair, that looked like an avalanche of snow cascading about her bare shoulders, would all bring far too much attention. Even clothed in Uriok-style woollens, the skin and hair would cause a stir. Not to mention those eyes, so light in colour, they almost looked completely white.
"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?" The Ūtharan almost pouted at as she picked at the light material of her pantaloons. "These are the finest Alharai court-wear."
"You're not in Alharai!" The Fae hissed the words. "Or have you forgotten that you are bring pursued?"
"Well, what am I supposed to wear? Those things until we reach Star Harbour?" With her voice still raised, Hatyara threw a dismissive hand towards the furs she had removed. "I've had enough of wearing those!"
"We'll work something out." Únik had had enough, also. Turning to the Fae, away from Hatyara, She raised herself to her feet, bending her back to remain out of sight and held up a hand to Barsa as he raised to his own feet. "Stay, Barsa! This Arthid, how do I find him?"
"Follow the path to the outskirts of the village, the fourth building on the right as you enter. You can't miss it, it has a flour covered cart to the side." As Únik stood to move away, Shihiri caught her arm. "Be kind. He is a good man and has a family. Do not bring undue attention to his door."
Únik patted Shihiri's hand and nodded, her smile saying more than words that she would take care around the baker. About to turn, she stopped, picking up Hatyara's discarded furs. Rolling them up as she pushed through the gap in the bushes, she had an idea. If they were to stand a chance of getting anywhere close to Star Harbour, and Únik was still not certain she wanted to escort Hatyara all the way, they would need to blend in better.
The path wound its way to the north and Únik continued to mull over her options. Leaving Hatyara in this village was not an option, it would seem. With her attitude and the wariness of Uriok folk, in general, Únik would have better luck throwing water on flaming oil. Therefore, they would need to pass further into the simple country, to a town, perhaps, where strangers were more likely to appear.
Before reaching the outskirts of Icktharid, Únik stopped, slipping out of her own furs and rolling them up with all the rest. The discarded furs of Hatyara, those furs rescued from the sled that Únik had hoped to sell, her own fur clothing that she loved. All became part of one, tight tied stack. Carrying them over her shoulder, gripping the leather ties, she set off once again. People would, most likely, feel less wary about a wandering fur trader.
She felt almost naked, only wearing her simple woollens. The furs hid her extra weight. Gave her more the look of a man, than an overweight woman. Still, she tried to appear confident as she walked into the village. It felt as though she passed an invisible barrier into a place where people stopped and whispered, not caring if she heard or not.
She spied the baker's shop as she continued further into the village. More than a few people mingled and meandered through the single street, houses built to either side. In the centre of the village, Únik saw the street widen to accommodate a well-made stone well, the slate roof covering the well itself, with a wooden bucket and pulley.
She stopped beside the well, seeing a water ladle attached to the bucket. In the bucket, she saw it half-full with water and she dipped the ladle in, taking a drink. As she drank, she gave the village a good, long, yet hidden, look. She saw a fair sized tavern, a smithy, cobbler. One building looked like a general merchants and she decided to pay a visit there before she left.
Having made certain that she had not moved straight towards the bakery, she made a play of rubbing her belly and smacking her lips. She looked around again, frowning and shaking her head as she looked at the tavern once more, then widened her eyes as she looked at the bakery, as though she had missed it at first glance.
Moving that way, she gave several villagers a smile and a nod, hunching her shoulders to hide her size. Upon reaching the bakery, she saw the door open. The smell of baked bread wafting from within caused her mouth to water, even though the baking had likely ended hours before. She hadn't eaten fresh bread in so long, she almost felt her stomach rumble in protest.
Knocking upon the door, she waited, looking around again and seeing people passing by, heads together as they stared and whispered about the stranger. Within seconds, a wide-bellied, middle-aged woman appeared, wiping her hands upon an apron, a broad smile upon ruddy cheeks. She wore the years upon her face, but Únik could see the happiness in the wrinkles at the sides of her eyes. Únik liked her as soon as she saw her.
"It's a bit late, my loves." The woman clasped her hands together, resting them upon her stomach. "We's not got none fresh baked. S'all hours old, my loves."
Únik's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't heard the dialect for so long, she had almost forgotten the lilting, musical tint it held. It reminded Únik of her mother and her childhood, where everyone was 'my loves' from the women, or 'Pret'yun' from the men, whether said to man, woman, boy or girl. Únik couldn't help but smile.
"Pity. A friend of mine, Nassrid, says you make the best bread in the county." Únik saw understanding dawn upon the woman's face.
Once again, the woman wiped her hands upon her apron, leaning forward, looking out of the door in both directions. Her expression didn't change, but Únik could see a slight tenseness arise in the friendly woman. With a cock of the head, the woman invited Únik through the door and into a small shop area, where empty baskets sat upon a simple wooden counter. The smell of bread assailed Únik's nostrils and she breathed that wondrous scent deep into her lungs.
"'Best bread in the county', you says Nassrid says? I'll give him 'best bread in the county'!" Chuckling, the woman waddled through a door, into the bakery proper. She looked back over her shoulder. "This's the best bread in all Uriok, my loves. So it is. Here."
Passing by cooling ovens, the woman whipped out a hand, catching a solitary, slightly overdone cob and passed it to Únik. With no hesitation, the scent of the bread almost becoming maddening, Únik broke the cob in two and almost buried her nose into it, breathing in the smell. With a groan, she bit into the cob and tasted pure perfection.
"Oh! Patrons! That's glorious!" Únik had to stop herself wolfing the entire cob down.
"So it is, my loves! Arthid! Customer! Special customer!" Leading the way into the back of the building, the woman chuckled again.
Arthid surprised Únik. She had expected a big man, similar to his wife, but found him short, quite thin and with a long, hooked nose. He greeted Únik with a broad, genuine smile that made his crow's feet crease at the corner of his eyes. Both his hands reached out for Únik's hand, shaking it with surprising strength. Únik felt welcome straight away.
-+-
Arthid sat, listening to Únik's tale in silence, making the occasional nod and frown. Every so often, he would glance towards his wife as she stirred some kind of broth that made Únik's mouth water. Lhidik, as Arthid had introduced his wife, would make the occasional tut, shaking her head and sighing, one hand balled at her hip.
Once Únik concluded her story, Arthid sat back, crossing his arms. It was the first time that Únik had thought about everything that had happened and, as she had spoken, at length, she realised how close she had come to losing her life so many times. With the tale told, she dipped her head, staring at the coarse surface of the table.
A bowl of broth and a wooden spoon appeared before her and a slab of that wonderful smelling bread. Before she could raise her head to thank Lhidik, she felt the woman's hand smooth her hair in such a gentle fashion. Únik had not felt such contact for many years. It reminded her of her mother, even though Lhidik was only a few years older than Únik herself. Thankful, Únik dived into the broth, feeling the warmth and meaty taste pass over her tongue into her welcoming stomach.
"Eh, you've had a hard time of it, pret'yun. So you have." Clicking his tongue several times, Arthid began to swill a spoon around in a bowl of broth that appeared before him. "Not sure what we's can be doing for ya, but you's welcome to stay for the night. Get some rest. So you can."
"I'll be honest, I don't know what you can do, either." After the initial wolfing of the broth, Únik slowed her eating down, appreciating every mouthful. "Nassrid said to see you and Shihiri just lead us this way. There seemed no point in arguing."
"No, and we's would know. That boy can persuade a legless donkey to walk. So he can." Lhidik joined them at the table, ripping a piece from the slab of bread and dunking it into her broth before popping it into her mouth. "But, he's a good 'un. Helped a lot of babbies. So he has."
As though talk of children had summoned them, a boy and a girl ran in from outside, through the back door of the home. They ran around the table twice, ignoring Únik, the girl chasing the boy with fingers splayed like claws, making high-pitched growling sounds. Both Lhidik and Arthid grinned as the girl caught the boy, tickling him mercilessly, causing the boy to fall to the floor making infectious giggles.
Únik almost dropped her spoon as she watched. The girl had such a look of Thesik that it caught Únik's breath. The similarity lasted only a second, though, as Únik began to see differences. A longer nose, gained from her father, no doubt. A little more chubby, giving her a cute, cuddly look to her. Her hair, also, was slightly less dark, more natural curls that bobbed against the child's cheeks. The boy took after his father in everything but the nose, sporting a shorter, wider nose, much like his mother's.
After the initial shock, Únik realised she had seen what she wanted to see. A young girl of about the same age as Thesik. But Thesik had gone long, long ago. She saw the looks of devotion in the eyes of Lhidik and Arthid. That was how parents should look at their children. Not with fear for their wellbeing, or with hate-filled eyes. These children were clearly loved by both parents.
"Hey, now! We's got a guest!" Lhidik leaned down, swatting the girl's backside with a playful hand before returning to her broth. "What do you's say?"
The girl stood up first, pushing all her weight down upon her brother's chest, causing him to make a breathy groan. Standing, the girl brushed down her long dress and held out a hand to shake. Trying to hide a smile, Únik grasped the girl's hand.
"How's you do, missus. Pleased to make your acquaintance. So I am." The girl gave a half-curtsey, flicking a foot back to hit her brother's leg, her expression showing nothing but innocence.
"Alright." The boy stood, now, bent over, rubbing his leg with one hand and his chest with the other. "You're bigger than my ma!"
Feeling her cheeks flush, Únik glanced at the plump baker's wife and then down to her own body. She pushed away the bowl of broth. She'd eaten enough. Lhidik threw out a hand, tapping the boy's backside with a little more venom than when she had hit the girl. She scowled at her son.
"He means taller, my loves. So he does." With pursed lips, Lhidik turned the boy around, heaving a sigh. She produced a kerchief from somewhere, folded it and licked the edge, wiping at a mark on the boy's face.
"What else would I mean?" The boy squirmed in his mother's grip, grimacing as the kerchief scrubbed at his face.
"Go on now, both of you's. Grown folks're talking." Lhidik adjusted the boys clothing, pinching the shoulders before turning him and pointing him to the door.
The girl curtseyed again before chasing after her brother, elbowing him in the chest as she pushed past him and they both ran outside laughing. The sound of children's laughter made Únik's heart swell. Even back at the pyramid, with Nassrid and his gang of ruffians, she had not heard such free and uncaring laughter. It felt joyous to hear.
"They's mean no harm, pret'yun. So they don't. Babbies be babbies." Chuckling to himself, Arthid pushed Únik's bowl of broth back towards her, giving her a knowing look and shaking his head. "The boy, Yarthid? He's got no more brains than a rock, Patrons bless him. Now, Flisik, she's a clever one. So she is. A handful, but clever. She'll make something of herself one day, soon as she stops tormenting her brother. So she will."
"Now, now, Arth! Don't hold with no favourites." Lhidik broke off a piece of bread, handing it to her husband. "We's loves them both, equal. So we do."
"So we do." Patting his wife's hand, Arthid wrinkled his forehead as he looked towards Únik. "I been thinking. So I have. I's have to go to town by next mid-week. I's suppose I could go early by a few days. Carry you's and your friends in the cart? Save your legs on a steep journey?"
"I wouldn't want to impose." The boy's comment had put her off from continuing to eat, but the broth smelled so good, she had to finish it. She dipped the spoon in and sipped the meaty liquid with relish.
"Fools and nonsense! It'd be a pleasure for him. So it will!" Holding her husband's hand, Lhidik gave it a gentle, loving squeeze. "He's always complaining the trip to town is lonely. He can't take the babbies, they play havoc with me not around. So they do."
Lhidik spoke those last two sentences in a conspiratorial fashion, leaning towards Únik, even though Arthid heard every single word, his shoulders moving in silent laughter. Then he nodded, agreeing with the sentiments. The couple, the entire family, seemed so happy and genuine with each other. Únik didn't know families like this existed. Didn't know if her memories of her own family had become changed as the years had passed. It felt as though her own years of marriage had ruined any idea that people could live genuine, happy lives.
"I's just wish I could be more help." Pushing his empty bowl away, Arthid rubbed his stomach, pushing it out as though that would show his appreciation of the food. "I's feel as I'm letting young Nassrid down as well as you's. So I do."
As Únik finished her own bowl of broth, she caught a glimpse of the children outside. The boy now chasing the girl, her curling hair flapping at her laughing face as she avoided the boy's reaching, clawed hands. Únik narrowed her eyes and made a quick calculation in her mind as she watched the girl trip up her brother.
"There is, maybe, something you could do." If Arthid and his wife agreed, it would help with one thing, at least. "I don't have any money, but I have these furs for barter?"