by Loren Elias
CHAPTER 4
Ren’ai walked through the high doorway with Father and Mother just behind. She felt like a princess. Her step portrayed only confidence. Her smile beamed wildly. She looked around at all of the men and women, boys and girls dressed in lace and frills as she. And the smile snapped from her face as if lassoed from it.
She suddenly felt very silly in her lacy green dress. A laughing stock. A fake. Look at Ren’ai. She could hear the whispers. Who does she think she is? Ren’iv?
Her head flew about in a panic. She wondered if perhaps she should run. Change back into her work dress and throw an axe over her shoulder and return. At least that way she would feel like Ren’ai and not something else entirely. Her white gloves were itchy anyway.
“Dance with me, Ren’ai.” A stocky little boy she knew from school waltzed up to her with round cheeks puffing with pride likely over the new satin suit he wore. He turned around once to show her before extending an eager hand.
He looked silly. When had she ever seen him in anything but cut off shorts with a fishing pole in one hand and a bucket in the other or up to his elbows in mud from when they caught frogs together for his mother’s stew? She would have turned him away, but Father pushed her toward him, giving her no choice. He took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor, pulling her through the crowd like a stubborn cross-stitch needle.
He could actually dance. She hoped that she hid the surprise well. She set her feet moving to the music, imagining that the strums of minstrel’s fingers upon the mandolin strings were the strikes of a hammer upon a spike. It helped her keep her pace.
She caught the sight of Mother and Father dancing just across the room. She could become accustom to his clothing if she gave it a chance. He actually looked quite handsome in that high hat and long jacket.
Mother looked happy. Large crowds always broadened her rosy cheeks. Her yellow dress flowed down to her ankles rivaling the flow of brown hair down to her waist with yellow ribbons woven through.
Big Sister stood but dared not lean at the far wall, batting her eyes and refusing invitations. A girl like Ren’iv could be choosy with her dance partners but often it meant she stood on the side for quite a while.
Ren’ai’s eyes shifted again to her schoolmate. A contented grin strung out from one ear the other as leather shoes just missed her feet while she kept one step ahead of him as he held with a firm grip upon her white glove. As the song ended, Ren’ai politely declined a second dance. The boy just smiled in thanks before moving on to the next.
The girl worked her way through the crowd to the place she had last seen Big Sister. Ren’iv must have found a worthy partner because grey eyes did not behold her. No matter though, Ren’ai would take her place, just to see how many men she could bat away with her long dark lashes
As expected, none approached.
Mother could be found dancing with the Baker now. This must mean that she would find Father dancing with Madam Etell, the town Teacher who was also the Baker’s wife. Ren’ai glanced around many moving bodies to find him. They swept around like bound grain upon a dirt floor. She found Madam Etell dancing with the tanner’s brother.
Grey eyes continued surveying the crowd. Nowhere. Many a high hat at the ball, but Father, nowhere. She saw her sturdy dance partner darting across the room toward her and decided to head for the doorway. The room was stuffy and loud.
As she found the door, she glanced back softly over her shoulder. He had not followed. A sigh left her plump, pink lips. She straightened her dress at the hip, before scratching at her neck. The lace she adored was in reality quite itchy. She took in the cool night air, a calm breeze now blowing. Twin Sisters Moon, both as big as her hand from arm outstretched now hung low above the trees; One Sister trailed behind the other as if chasing after her. Not a soul moved about except the horses tied to their posts, patiently waiting. Everyone in town, everyone that upon the Fates did not hold sharpness to the strand would be at Haerfest Ball this night.
Whispers broke the silence. With an occasional burst of volume they seared through the darkness and the calm. She knew the voices.
She crept along the front of CenterHouse to the alley way, peeked her head around a half filled hay cart to see Father with his high hat now hanging loosely between two fingers. She knew the other man too. It was Crooked Step as she and Ren’iv had so affectionately named him. He met with Father on occasion to discuss business. Many did. So odd that she should remember this gentleman, but for good reason. Whenever Father saw him coming up the dusty path dragging one foot slightly behind the other before throwing it forward with a bony arm only to let it fall behind again, he would scoop his daughter up from whatever woodwork she might be completing, kiss her forehead gently and set her down with instruction to go see if Mother needed any help.
“I told you, there are too many people here. We shouldn’t be seen together.” Anxiety ridged Father’s brow.
Ren’ai wondered what it could be. Maybe the last order he had delivered had been defective and Crooked wanted his silver returned. Oh, how she hoped not to hear it a piece formed by her hand. Oh, the shame she had brought on Father.
“What are you afraid of? Everyone knows what you are. You can’t keep something like that a secret in a town this size.” The man stuck a knowing finger into Father’s shoulder.
Ren’ai knew very well what he was. The best craftsman in Four Cities. She dared this man to say any differently.
“But you’re getting reckless, my friend.” Father returned the gesture. Crooked Step took a step back from the pressure of it. Father glared down upon him. “The lot of you are.”
Father did not like reckless work. He hated nothing more. Simply would not tolerate it from himself, from others.
“Acceptable casualties of the cause, Ren’o.”
“Acceptable?!” Father looked as if he wished he had his trusty axe so he could chop Crooked where he stood. “Women and Children. A whole town wiped out. You call that acceptable?”
“They knew the risk. A noble sacrifice. This makes our cause that much stronger. A thousand will step in to fill the place of four hundred dead seeing the injustices intolerable.”
“But none of them had to die. Will you sacrifice that thousand to gain two?”
“If it means victory. They knew the risk and they believed what we stand for.” Crooked gave a sideways glance out into the street. Ren’ai ducked behind the cart. “I just don’t think you believe anymore.” He looked back to Father.
The girl shook as she heard the pound upon tin. If they had hoped this encounter to be a secret, it would not be now. Two grey eyes peeked over the hay cart to see Crooked hanging several steps from the ground, with neck held against CenterHouse in Father’s large hand and one leg dangling lifeless beneath him, the other trying to gain leverage for a kick.
“Don’t you ever question my loyalties.”
Ren’ai stood there, hunched over, frozen. What was he doing? He would kill the man. She could think of nothing of which she could be more certain. He would be taken from her forever. She could not let that happen. “Papa, Stop.”
Crooked dropped to the ground in a lump as Father released him just in time to see Ren’ai running toward them, lace petty-coat flowing behind her. Crooked held a throbbing throat while drawing in deep gasps for air.
Ren’ai took Father’s arm, wrapping around it as if to contain its wrath.
“Nai, what are you…?” He ran working man’s fingers through thinning hair and returned his high hat to his head as if to pretend that nothing had happened.
“Little Nai. You have no idea who you cling to so.” Crooked’s lips curled into a half smile of pity. He shook his head and with it what little greasy hair remained. “Your father is a bad man, Nai. He's killed many, many children....” Crooked pointed out an accusing finger.
A quick boot to the gut silenced him.
Ren’ai took Father’s hand as he extended it. Even through her white glove she could feel the
moisture upon it. They rounded the hay cart and left the alley. Their horses neighed as they past. He reached out to give the speckled mare a reassuring rub down the neck. “Not yet, Genevieve. I think the women would be mighty angry if we dragged them home this early.”
“Papa, what was he talkin ’bout?”
He looked away from the mare to an inquiring daughter. “We’ll talk about it when we’re home. For now, put on the correct face for the occasion and we’ll be returning to the Ball.” He picked up the carved cube around her neck and then let it rest, before curling fingers up under her chin as if to say smile.
She did. She put on her Lady face and took one broad arm as they walked back into the crowd.
Immediately Mother saw their smiling faces and left her partner, sailing across the dance floor toward them. “Where have you two been? Looks like you have been up to something.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Ren’ai spoke up first. “I needed encouragement. I feel so funny here.” She looked up at Father, who nodded in agreement.
“Oh, Nai. I know it’s strange to be among everyone in their finest dresses. You’re just too old to play with the children in the school across the way.” Mother placed a comforting hand on her head.
“I’m fine now, Mama.”
“Fine, then.” The mother smiled at her little daughter before turning to her husband. “You may get the hang of this parenting thing yet, My Darling, but for now dance with me.” She reached out to take a massive hand. He followed her lead.
Ren’ai stood there, alone again, thinking about what Crooked had said. Strong words from such a frail little man. What in Nine Worlds could cause him to think such things about Father?
Ren’ai found a home leaning her behind against the wall, resting one foot then the other for the long walk home that she knew lay before them. Her eye caught Ren’iv, dancing, as she was, with a fine looking fellow, tall with strong, broad shoulders like Father’s, bright green eyes that matched her dress. Upon his head fell hair blonde and bright, shoulder length, pulled back and tied leaving a little tuft behind his head. He did not dress like the rest, though; he wore a uniform. He was of the King’s army with strips across firm shoulders, a Sergeant maybe. Father would be so proud. What would Ren’iv find wrong with this one? She could only imagine.
She watched them dancing, entranced by the way they moved with each other, anticipated each other as if one being where possessing the two. Ren’iv laughed a gentle laugh on occasion as she batted her eyes calling him closer. “He must be funny too,” thought Ren’ai, and not in a silly way like Big Nose. Still she would wait to see what fault she would see in him.
Two dances and then three, and her interest remained piqued. Ren’ai just wished for the night to be over so she could get a good night’s sleep before leaving for the pine forest with Father. Quite a trek awaited them. She knew Ren’iv wished it would never end.
Father joined her two dances later as the minstrel’s tunes became slow and hypnotic. He had never been one for the slow dances. “Let me see that smile, Nai.”
She realized that her face must have been in an awful frown. “Sorry, Papa.”
“No worries, Princess. It’s been a long night, hasn’t it?”
Ren’ai could only manage a nod.
“Well, it will be over soon. We’ll be able to return home, get some sleep and be up before the rise of Greater Sun.” He ran broad fingers through her short hair.
She smiled up at him, a true smile. Ren’ai could not wait. She took Father’s hand, gripping it tightly; amazed by the way his hand so devoured hers. As she looked back toward the crowd, she caught sapphire eyes nearly upon her.
“Father, this is Charles.” The young man who previously held quite a nice tone to fairer-hued skin suddenly went white. Ren’iv did not notice and carried on. “He’s just returned from Caerwyn where he led the army in search of survivors.”
Ren’ai let out a squeak as the pressure of Father’s hand upon hers became nearly unbearable. Father must have realized his show of strength had been aimed at the wrong person, because he released her.
“Pleased to meet you, Sir.” The young man stammered but held cultivated composure.
“Yes, Likewise, Lieutenant.” Father extended his high hat in pleasantry.
So a Lieutenant he was, even better.
“Just terrible what happened up there, burned to the ground and the walls built to protect the city, like an oven cooking a pork roast.” Ren’iv seemed quite proud of herself recounting something that did not include a new bread recipe or bonnet style but still Ren’ai mused that her comparison hinged upon a thing she knew, like cooking.
“You find any Survivors?” Ren’ai could not imagine such an awful thing.
“Not a woman or child left alive, Dear One. Those not taken by the flame leapt from the walls down into the valley. We found many there, but there was nothing we could do but haul the remains out for proper burial.”
Ren’iv tightened her grip on the Lieutenant’s arm. “Such a good thing Charles and his men did for those people. Giving them a proper burial.”
Ren’ai stirred Father from cascading thoughts with a nudge and he spoke with confidence. “Yes, a very good thing.”
Ren’ai pulled on Big Sister’s skirt to get her attention. Big Sister lowered her ear to hear what she had to say.
“So what’s wrong with this one? Tell me it is the tuft behind his head. Isn’t it atrocious?” Ren’ai smiled, waiting to see what name Big Sister would give this one.
Ren’iv placed her lips on Little Sister’s ear. “Oh, that’s the style in Capital City, where he lives. It will become all the rage out here as well by Auctus' first sprigs I’m certain. We countryfolk are always a little behind when it comes to these things.”
“It still looks funny to me.” Ren’ai crossed her arms in all certainty.
“Oh, it won’t, dear, by the time you’re my age and ready for courtship.” A glance ran up and down the young girl’s body as if the older sister doubted the truth of that statement.
“So what then shall we call him.” The sisters stepped away allowing the men to speak.
“We will call him Charles.”
“But that’s his name.” It did not make any sense to call him by his name. Ren’iv never called anyone by their given name.
“Then we can call him, the one for me.”
“Niv, but he lives so far away.” Displeasure shaped her face. “And you don’t even know him. And he won’t be here long enough to…”
“Don’t worry, Little Sis. I’m not leaving tomorrow. A proper courtship must be at least two seasons. We’ve agreed to exchange letters. That’s all. By then, who knows, he could be retired and we could settle down in one of the Four Cities. That’s not far, now is it?”
Relief washed over Ren’ai’s face. She did not wish Big Sister to leave ever.
“We must return to Papa and Charles. I’m certain Papa is boring him to tears. Charles is quite an educated man and Papa, well; we know how Papa can be.”
Little Sister did not respond. She only followed as Ren’iv attached herself again to Charles’ arm, smiling, batting thick, dark lashes in his direction.
Father put an arm around Ren’ai’s shoulder. “Well, I guess it is time we collect your mother.”
Ren’ai nodded her agreement. At last, it was over. Relief tingled through her body.
As they made their way onto the forest path, Ren’ai felt a relief to be with only her family again. The bustle of the crowd made her head spin and her stomach knot. She only wanted to be home again, just her and Papa and Mama and Niv.
