OoOoO
Nothing ever tasted better than a fresh lunch on a hot day. At least, that was Lhara's opinion. She had packed them a simple meal of goat cheese and ham between cut buns, with the first blackberries of the season for dessert. The buns were relatively uncrushed even after spending the morning tucked into Lhara's pack, for which she was very glad. Crushed bread was still bread, but it definitely lost something of its lightness along the way.
Settling herself cross-legged on a relatively flat spot, Lhara put her hands to her mouth and let out a call that rang far and long through the mountains. Tarun and Marden's heads, one dark brown and the other sandy, swiveled some ways below on the mountainside. Marden said something to Tarun, and the younger of the two left off from the flock to climb up to Lhara. The herd of argali sheep where spread far and wide, combing the dark rocks for sedges, herbs and moss to eat. All day was lunchtime when you were a sheep, Lhara mused.
"It's midday already?" Tarun asked, using his crook to help him up the last bit of incline. "Or are you just hungry?"
With a laugh Lhara thrust a bun toward Tarun. "Both. Is Marden coming to eat too?"
"In a moment; he's got a bit of a rescue to carry out first."
"Oh?" Lhara's mouth was already full of meat and cheese, somewhat muddying the question.
"See there?" Tarun pointed to a rocky shelf a short ways from the edge of the flock. "There's a lamb stuck in a spot it can't get itself out of. The poor mother's been trying to coax it down for a while now."
Wrinkling her forehead, Lhara squinted for a moment before laughing. "I hear it bleating, poor thing. All I see is mountain though. No...wait, I think I see a bit of white there, on the rocks."
"Well, you never were the sharpest eyes in town. Nor the sharpest mind for that matter."
"Pffft, twit!" Lhara kicked out a Tarun's knee, eliciting a satisfying grunt when she made contact. The two of them sat eating quietly for a moment in the summer sunlight, watching as Marden picked his way across the mountainside to the stranded lamb.
"I'd get beside it and lower it down to level ground." Tarun commented. "Maybe use his jacket as a hammock for extra distance."
"Really? I was about to say he's probably both tall and strong enough to just reach up and grab the lamb."
"And have it kick him on the way down? No thanks."
"Just watch and see. I'll bet he reaches for it."
"And I'll bet he lowers it. That would be the smart thing to do."
Fully invested in their prize-less bet now, Lhara and Tarun watched their older brother size up the lamb, hands on his hips. Lhara crowed triumphantly when Marden did eventually stretch up his arms toward the little creature's perch on the shelf. The lamb bleated pitifully, pulling a concerned call from its mother. A moment later an irritated grunt reached them when, sure enough, the lamb did in fact kick Marden in the stomach on the way to the ground.
"So I guess we were both right?" Lhara admitted, chagrined and trying not to laugh as Marden gave his side a rueful rub.
Tarun finished his bun and set to work on the meat, which for some reason he always insisted on eating separately. "I still would have lowered the lamb from above," He said, leaning back on his elbows the lichen covered rocks.
"Stop being so obstinate and let me have at least half of this one."
"Alright, Marden agreed with you. There, good enough?"
"It'll do."
Lhara joined Tarun in half-reclining, looking up at the streaming white clouds not so far overhead. Some of them were even low enough that they were pierced by the Teeth like needles through cotton. The sound of the flock calling to one another echoed endlessly, magnified by the mountains around them.
"Tarun?"
"Mmm?"
Lhara sat up, bits of dirt and seeds clinging to her hair. "Do you ever think about what you'll do? After Marden marries Yelaina, I mean?"
Rolling onto one side, Tarun studied her with slate grey eyes. "I think about that all the time. I know Aunt Rhena would just die of happiness if I would agree to court someone from Trosk and settle in the village."
"And would you?" Lhara asked, surprised.
"No! Come on now, you know every man in Trosk like I know every woman. Could you really see yourself marrying any of them?"
"You mean besides Andris?" Lhara tried not to roll her eyes too cruelly. "I think Aunt Rhena has the same hopes for me as she does you."
Tarun laughed and grabbed a handful of blackberries from Lhara's open pack. "We aren't all Marden or Eima, able to fall in love with someone we've known since our swaddling days. Can you imagine?" He feigned gagging. "In my opinion, a good romance needs a little mystery, or at least something still left to the imagination."
"Oh I agree! So what then? Are you going to try to set up some sort of trade? Or buy into the flock with Marden?"
"Neither." When Lhara urged him to elaborate he sighed. "I...maybe it's stupid, but there's something I've always wanted to try to do. You remember Da's stories of Amenthere, told to him by traders from the west?"
"Yes, of course."
Tarun's voice took on an eager, determined edge. "I know it's a slim chance, but I've always dreamed of applying to the Academy. It's the biggest and best school in all of Goran, and they have masters in every possible subject there. I could become a scholar, or a judge, or anything I wanted. Or at the very least, if I could be anything in the world, I would like to be educated."
To say that Lhara was taken aback would be an understatement. She knew that Tarun liked reading; he poured over the same weathered old books night after night in his bed by candlelight. Still, Amenthere felt like part of another world, so far away on the other side of the Teeth. Nobody in Trosk had ever even been west of the mountains, much less all the way to the capital. The thought of her brother leaving and going so far away was startling.
"Would they even let you in, Tarun?" Lhara asked uncertainly. She didn't want to discourage him, but neither was she sure she liked the idea. "Doesn't it cost money to study at the Academy?"
Rather than deflate though, Tarun just shrugged. "I don't know, but I hope to at least apply to get in someday. It's the sort of thing that I'd rather try and not succeed, rather than never try at all and live to regret it."
Lhara sat in silence for a moment, digesting the thought. If Tarun were to leave Trosk she knew they'd miss him terribly. But as a second son there was no good reason for Tarun to just hang around town either. Deciding not to worry about it for the moment, Lhara just nodded and looked back up at the sky.
"What about you?"
"Me?"
"No, Old Longbeard." Tarun said sarcastically, gesturing at one of the larger rams grazing nearby, the tuft of hair on its chin sweeping the rocks as it chewed. "Yes you! What will you do once Marden is married, since you don't have designs on anyone yourself?"
"You promise not to laugh?"
Tarun actually looked a little wounded. "You didn't laugh when I told you about the Academy. Now come on little sister, what do you want to do?"
"Remember the summer before Ma got sick, how I told her that someday I wanted to be the Wise Woman, like Magda?" Remembering the surprised, half-amused and half-proud look on Mira's face, Lhara continued. "I still want that. It's the only thing I can see myself doing, besides keeping the house. There's something about how Magda seems to understand everyone and everything that I admire."
"I think that's less Wise Woman and more Magda herself, just so you know. She has been a crone for longer than you've been alive."
"Doesn't matter, I still want to do the things that she does someday; leading the ceremonies, blessing the , you know." I'm not doing a very good job of explaining myself, thought Lhara, growing frustrated.
Tarun didn't seem to need any further explanation though. Instead he nodded, a little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Some of the village girls had accused Tarun's smiles of looking more like smirks. They didn't know that the difference lay in his breath. A little huff of air escaped Tarun's nose, letting Lhara know that he meant this smile.
"You'd be quite the Wise Woman, Lhara." When Lhara bristled at him he raised his hands peaceably. "And I mean that in a good way!" The playful grin faded, replaced by Tarun's more serious, slate-grey gaze. "In all seriousness though, if you really want to be the Wise Woman, you had better start asking Magda about it. She's getting on in years, and it is only a matter of time before she finally decides on an apprentice. Marden's getting married, I might be leaving. You need to get your own life started too."
Folding her legs under her and reaching for another handful of berries, Lhara nodded. "I know, I know. It just feels so strange, imagining that everything might change. We've always been together, the three of us."
Tarun seemed about to say something further on the matter when his expression suddenly changed. Wrinkling his nose wryly, he slouched back down onto the stony ground and let out a laugh. "Yes well, now I'll finally know what it's like to have a decent sleep without Marden's shifting and groaning all night long. Can you imagine how nice it'll be to have him out of the house once and for all?"
"That's rich, coming from the family sleepwalker."
Marden's full baritone popped up from below the ledge where Lhara and Tarun were eating, followed shortly by a pair of firm brown hands. With a heave Marden pulled himself up beside them. His brown eyes rolled at Tarun, but betrayed inner laughter. "I can't begin to count the number of times you've kicked my bed during your midnight wanderings."
"No wonder my toes are always bruised in the morning." Tarun sighed, and then tossed Marden a bun. "Here, eat up before Lhara eats it for you."
Lhara just glowered and stuffed what remained of her own bun into her mouth all at once, puffing her cheeks out as far as they could reach.
"With your appetite, you're just lucky we'll have plenty of grown sheep for slaughter come autumn," Marden said. "And Aunt Rhena says we eat a lot."
Nearby, Old Longbeard paused in his grazing to let out a concerned sounding bleat. Thank the stars it was still high summer.
OoOoO
Once the flock was safely penned up for the evening and dinner had been cooked, served and eaten, Lhara's thoughts turned back to that day's conversation with Tarun. Tarun sat curled in the old rocking chair with one of his five books open across his knees. His eyes flickered from line to line with such speed, sometimes Lhara wondered if he even read each word anymore. If Tarun went to Amenthere for the Academy, somehow Lhara knew he would get in. Somehow, some way, he would make it happen.
Looking around at the faded wall hangings woven by their grandma, the firelight flickering on the floorboards worn smooth with age, the scorch marks over the hearth that no amount of scrubbing would ever remove, Lhara felt a sense of loss already. True, Marden would be just down in Trosk with Yelaina, but that wouldn't make the cottage feel any fuller at night. If she didn't follow her own calling in life, her days would be very, very empty in the years ahead.
That didn't make what she had to do any easier. Lhara had thought about approaching Magda for years. What if the Wise Woman refused her though? Not knowing always left room for possibility. But then, possibility may as well have been rejection for all the good it was doing in the here and now. Making up her mind once and for all, Lhara stood and plucked her cloak off the wall.
"Going out?" Tarun asked, his eyes never leaving his book.
"Down to Trosk, to see Magda."
Tarun still didn't look up, but Lhara could hear the puff of breath when he smiled. "About bloody time. Good luck."
She nearly missed Marden on her way out the door, seated to one side with a broken pairs of sheers in his lap. Firelight from inside gleamed dully off the disassembled blades, highlighting seams of dirt and grease in the hands that held them.
"Are you ever going to listen to me about the mountains? You know better than anyone that they're not safe, especially after dark."
Lhara shook her head "Exactly; I know the Teeth better than anyone. That's not where I'm headed tonight though. I'm going down to town to visit Magda."
"To town?" That caught Marden's interest. He set the sheers down to one side and stood, untying his leather work apron. "Mind if I come along?"
"Why?"
Marden was already ducking inside. He reappeared less than a minute later with his own cloak, his hands reasonably less dirty than they had been. When Lhara repeated her question he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Things are probably quiet at the inn, as always. Yelaina might have a moment to spare for me."
The two of them walked together in silence for a little way, listening to the gravel crunch beneath their boots. Crickets were out and chirping on all sides. The moon was full tonight, so they didn't need a torch to light the way. Below on the mountainside they could see the light from Uncle Torl's house. Lhara wouldn't be surprised if they could even hear Garrit from the trail once they got down there.
"So, you're going to ask Magda for an apprenticeship then?" Marden finally spoke.
Hearing it spoken aloud brought a fluttering to Lhara's stomach. "Yes. But..."
"But what?"
Suddenly the words all spilled out. Keeping her eyes on the path, Lhara babbled as fast as she felt like running at the moment. "But what if she doesn't want me? Halna was supposed to be the next Wise Woman, that's what everyone says. I'm not as clever as Halna, I'm not even kin to the line of Wise Women in Trosk. It's not like I'm gifted or something, not in a way that would be a reason why Magda should take me on. And if Magda doesn't want me, then what do I do? Marden, I don't want to marry anyone here in Trosk, even if Aunt Rhena and Alina seem to think that Andris and I would make a smart match. Andris is-"
"Lhara."
Just Marden saying her name so firmly yet kindly was enough to bring Lhara's stampeding herd of worry to a halt. Practically vibrating, she stuffed her hands into her cloak and waited for Marden to speak again.
Instead, Marden reached out sideways and slung an arm around Lhara's neck, tugging her to his side. It never ceased to amaze her that Marden could have gotten so tall and broad. For a moment, tucked close to her eldest brother's steady heartbeat, Lhara was reminded of her Da. It seemed that when she wasn't looking, the three of them had grown up.
"If Magda refuses you, which I sorely doubt she will, then you'll find another path. You may not believe you're as clever as Halna, but nobody in Trosk is as bold and fearless as you are." Marden turned Lhara loose with a friendly shove. "And nobody is going to make you marry anybody, not even Aunt Rhena. No man of Trosk would be so shameless."
Of course they wouldn't. Lhara let out a long breath, realizing how far she'd let her fears run with her. Leave it to Marden to see things as they were. Suddenly she felt a bit sheepish.
"I know. It's just..."
Marden looked sideways at her. The full moon cast the far side of his face in shadow. Behind him the Teeth practically glowed like spikes of silver in the night.
"You're thinking about Tarun and I leaving," he said.
"No...yes."
A low chuckle rose from Marden's chest. "If I know you Lhara, you'll never be lonely. And if Magda takes you on as her apprentice, you can always give the house to a second daughter and move in to Magda's cottage. Then you'll be right across the square from Yelaina and I."
That brought Lhara up short. "Give the house away? But Marden, what about the traditions of inheritance? Wouldn't Ma be upset if I gave up the house her family built?"
"Ma's not here," Marden said simply. "You are. Tarun and I are both making our own choices, Ma and Da would be the last to fault you for doing the same."
They were almost on the edge of Trosk. Firelight made orange patchwork squares against the dark frames of the town. The scent of old wood, people and chimneys reached them on the wind. Trosk was home, just as much as the little cottage on the mountainside was. It was a relief to know that coming down into town was a possible option for her in the days ahead.
Marden had gotten a few steps ahead of her on the trail. On a sudden whim, Lhara launched herself at his back, half-tackling him in a hug.
"Thank you Marden." She squeezed him tight, burying her face in his shoulders and feeling them shake with another chuckle.
"For what? You're the lady of the house after all."
"Marden Thrymmson, are you already dallying with other women before we're even married?!"
A woman's voice reached them from a second story window nearby. Marden's dark eyes immediately lit up when they turned to find Yelaina looking down at them from a distance. The innkeeper's daughter sat on the windowsill, her long golden hair a shimmering veil in the lamplight and moonlight. It was hard for Lhara to make out her face, but she could hear the teasing in Yelaina's voice. In her arms she cradled something small, probably one of her beloved cat's newest litter.
"Oh, my mistake. Hello Lhara, thank you for protecting my intended from the wolves on the way here."
"He's all yours Yelaina," Lhara called back, and she meant it.
"Well come on up then, love. Da's just about ready to close up for the night; if you hurry he might not lock the door on you."
Marden gave a lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Coming." Before heading for the inn, he paused and glanced back at Lhara. "Good luck Lhara. Next time I see you you'll be the Wise Woman's apprentice."
As Marden loped off through town toward the inn's front door, Lhara sighed and straightened her shoulders. Both of her brothers had their futures well in hand, it seemed. It was time for her to do the same.
Following the familiar dirt streets through Trosk, Lhara passed the statue of the ram on her way to Magda's cottage. The ram's stone horns ringed the stars in the night sky as Lhara peered up through them. Muffled voices from inside the buildings on either side reached her in the dark. Halna's forge was quiet, absent the usual ringing of hammers during daylight hours. Gerdiom's butcher shop and Borse's tannery were also closed, although nobody bothered to put a lock on their doors in Trosk. The whole town seemed to breathe quietly, like a dozing animal. Perhaps it was the mountains themselves breathing beneath Trosk.
Magda's cottage felt warm and cozy even from the front gate. Her boots scuffling softly over the slate walkway, Lhara approached the door, there to hesitate for a moment in the dark. The sound of humming from inside quieted her nerves. Even if Magda said no, Lhara decided she still loved the old Wise Woman. She knocked and waited.
"Come in!"
Magda's sing-song voice was cheerful, as always. Lhara found her seated on a stool before the hearth, hard at work peeling a basket full of potatoes. The Wise Woman's gnarled fingers held the blade of her little knife in a practiced grip.
"Ah, Lhara. It's so good to see you tonight, little daughter." Magda sat up as far as she was able with her hunched back. Her red shawl hung tucked behind her elbows to keep it out of the way of her work. "What brings you down to town?"
Somehow it felt wrong to just jump straight into her true purpose while still in the doorway. Taking off her cloak and hanging it on a peg besides Magda's ceremonial black robe, Lhara shrugged and smiled.
"Just keeping Marden company on his way to see Yelaina. Can I help?" She indicated the potatoes.
"Be my guest. Or rather, be my helper." Magda pointed to a wooden block full of other knives beneath the cupboards. "Never pass up advice or assistance, but be wary of the price of each."
Well used to Magda's propensity for tossing out stray life lessons, Lhara retrieved another paring knife and found a second stool. Together they worked through the potatoes fairly quickly. As the pile of peelings between them grew, Magda fell back to humming. After a first notes Lhara recognized the Birthing Song. It was a soothing, lullaby-like tune, but Lhara still thought she preferred the Croning Song.
When Magda at last fell silent, Lhara finally felt ready.
"Magda?"
"Hmmm?" Magda looked up from her work, her cloudy eyes questioning. "What is it, little daughter? Whatever it is, it's been gnawing away at your usual merry humor since before you arrived."
Was it that obvious? Pausing with the knife against the skin of the potato she held, Lhara swallowed.
"Why haven't you ever chosen an apprentice to be the next Wise Woman?"
Magda raised a snowy eyebrow. "Do I look so close to keeling over tomorrow?"
"No! Not at all! I ask because...well...I was hoping that you might consider me?" When Magda didn't immediately answer Lhara barreled on. "Every time I see you leading a ceremony, like you did with Halna's Croning, I know that I want to be like you someday too. The way you always know what herbs to give a sick child, or when the first frost will come, it's wonderful! I can't imagine anything I'd rather be than a Wise Woman, and-"
To Lhara's surprise, Magda silenced her with an upraised hand and a sharp look. A lump of disappointment instantly wedged itself at the back of her throat.
"To be a Wise Woman, one must be called to know the mysteries of the world, not merely curious. I'm flattered by your interest, but no, I will not take you on as my apprentice. That was a place reserved for Halna, and my daughter chose another path long ago."
"Oh..."
Not sure what else there was to say, Lhara felt her shoulders sag. Her longest held and fondest dream flickered within her heart and threatened to die out.
"What will you do instead?"
The Wise Woman's question came as a surprise. Trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice was difficult. After a moment Lhara recovered enough to answer.
"I don't know. To be a Wise Woman is really all I've ever imagined for myself. I just can't see myself as a wife and mother. At least, not with anyone here in Trosk."
Silence fell between them. Magda seemed thoroughly focused on the task of peeling her basket of potatoes. Sadly Lhara gazed around at the bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, the petrified wood staff of the Wise Woman leaning in the corner, the various stones and bones arranged on the mantelpiece. They were all the trapping of a Wise Woman, something which Lhara ached for now even more than before. Still, she said no more on the matter. Instead she focused on helping with the rest of the peeling, even though in her distraction she slipped once and gave herself a little nick on the thumb.
Once the entire basket was finished Lhara even took the peelings outside to scatter on the compost pile. She found Magda waiting for her on the doorstep with a queer light in her eyes.
"A maiden tending the earth in the moonlight," Magda said in a murmur.
"You said?" Lhara asked, puzzled.
Then, out of nowhere, Magda's deeply lined face broke into a fond smile. "You look very much like a Wise Woman already, little daughter." Reaching out, she touched a stray wisp of Lhara's wild hair. "There's a spark of the old world in you to be sure."
"I don't understand..."
"Such is the way of the apprentice; forever seeking understanding!" With a laugh, Magda waved Lhara back inside the cottage. "Come, Lhara."
The Wise Woman drew Lhara toward the hearth by the hand. Lhara sank down onto the stool yet again, her confusion mounting. Apparently Magda found Lhara's befuddled expression endearing, and smiled warmly yet again.
"You learn more about a person in moments of defeat than you do in moments of triumph. Forgive me, but I wanted to know how you would accept my refusal of you. Not only did you take it with grace and dignity, but you stayed even after to help this old woman finish her work. Even if I did not know of your resilience after the loss of your parents and your fearlessness in wandering the Teeth alone, I would know now of your true goodness. And that is enough for me...apprentice."
Lhara had to take a moment to wrap her head around what Magda was saying. Blinking, she began to light up from within.
"You mean that you will take me on then, and teach me the ways of the Wise Women?"
"Of course I will! Oh, if you could only know how long I have waited for a maiden to come, seeking to replace me. No, don't protest! You will, of course, one day take my place as Wise Woman of Trosk, as is the way of things. That is, if you are still willing to have me as your teacher, after I so cruelly tricked you?"
Magda was half-smiling down at Lhara, not looking particularly penitent. That was just fine by Lhara though. She beamed with delight, jumping up to take Magda's hands in her own.
"Yes, yes, a hundred times yes! Oh Magda, thank you!"
"We'll see if you're still thanking me when you're getting your markings done," Magda said.
"Markings?"
Instead of answering, Magda turned around lifted her mane of white hair out of the way. For the first time ever, Lhara saw the rune-adorned circle inked into Magda's skin at the base of her skull. It was old and faded; the once-black ink long since turned blue. Arrows pointed out from the center in four directions, and each arrow was webbed to the others by spidery lines.
"Is that an ?" The family symbols were the first thing that leapt to Lhara's mind.
With a chuckle Magda let her hair drop and turned back to face Lhara. "Yes, in a manner of speaking. The are based off of the ancient symbol of the Wise Women and the High Elders. This and many other things are waiting for you to learn, one by one, little daughter."
"How was that done?" Lhara indicated the on the back of Magda's neck.
"With a bone needle and dye. It takes a long time, and none of it is very comfortable I'm afraid. Consider it a rite of passage."
"When do I get mine?"
Now Magda really did laugh. "Full of questions already, you will make a true Wise Woman!" She placed a hand on Lhara's shoulder and squeezed. "Soon. The frame will be done at your Dedication to the path of the Wise Woman. The runes you will have added over time, to mark your accomplishments and lessons learned. Speaking of which, we need to teach you how to read runes before anything else."
"I'm ready."
"Oh I know you are, Lhara. But the day is no longer young, and learning happens best when the mind is rested. Go home now, and see that that brother of yours gets home safely too."
Lhara's joy couldn't be contained as she left Trosk. Not even bothering to stop by the inn for Marden, she continued on her way up past the outskirts of town toward the worn path home. Barely had she left the last house behind when she burst into song. The meaning of the Croning song's words remained unknown to her, but not for much longer. Soon she would learn to read the runes, to speak the old tongue, and know the ways of the world as the Wise Women and High Elders did. Soon she too would have an inked into her skin, an almost secret beneath her long hair. Now the thought of Marden marrying and Tarun leaving for the Academy hardly seemed frightening at all. The world was moving forward, and at last Lhara felt she was moving with it.
OoOoO