by Tyler Krings
“That would be helpful to know,” he answered.
She turned to him. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Oh, yes. Save us from having another mouth to feed.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Pfft, that’s not like me at all.”
A short laugh, and Ana smiled. Her eyes found his and she looked at him fondly. “You sure you don’t have any…ulterior motives?”
That is a nice smile. Before Jon could think of a witty response, something caught the corner of his eye—a dust cloud on the horizon. Too small to be a devil and too large to be happenstance. Two horses, by his make. Ana followed his sudden gaze and stood up quickly.
“Easy,” said Jon.
“Should we warn the old man?” she asked.
“Doubtless he already knows. Keep calm. It’ll be fine.”
The horses were still a way out, but by their trot they would be upon the farm shortly. The King’s Road was seldom traveled this far from town, which left only few options. Colors glimpsed through the dust marked them as soldiers from the local garrison. Patrols made it this far from Errol’s Fortune on rare occurrences, and usually preceded an event of some import. The boy took the remains of his rabbit and brought it inside. He set the bowl down and began to pluck the bits of fur still clinging to the meat. Ana stood in the corner and watched him earnestly. He bore her stare for only a moment.
“Shouldn’t you be kneading the bread? Unless you’d like to try your hand at grinding coffee?” he said.
“Are they coming inside?”
“Aye, and they’ll probably want something to eat.”
“Should…”
“Ana,” said Jon, “calm down. They’re boys playing at soldiers, and only here because some asshole at the top told them to be. Don’t make it complicated.”
She came up beside him and began to work slowly, taking her time adding flour first to her hands. They worked in silence until the boy heard the soldiers’ voices over the tread of their horses. He put the bowl of fur and bone on the table and walked out the front door. They led their horses lazily down the winding path to the edge of their home. Ham and Rom, by the look of them. Both frequented the tavern back in town and knew Jon as well as he allowed.
“Oy there, Jon!” Ham called. His armor was ill fitting but recently polished, a leather chest piece that had seen more time in an armory closet than it had sunlight. The short sword at his side hung by a leather thread, having only seen action on practice fields or when Ham showed off to the girls. Rom had much the same look with an added air of anxiety.
“Oy,” Jon acknowledged. “You two shits don’t have anything better to do?”
“Fuck off. You got food in there? Rom forgot his rations.”
“Funny how that happens,” said Jon. “See smoke from the chimney and all of sudden you’ve forgotten your rations.”
“We’re not supposed to be stopping,” said Rom.
“Oh, here he is!” said Ham gesturing broadly at Rom as he tethered his horse. “You weren’t so vocal when we were riding out. If I recall correctly, it was ‘Sure as fuck hope there’s a stew on somewhere so as I don’t have to eat this shit bread.’”
“I’ve reconsidered my position! Hardtack ain’t so bad. Maybe we should just get a move on.”
“This is the last stead between here and fuck all, and I’d like to have a full belly. That is if Jon here is kind enough to oblige?”
“Aye, there’s food enough.” Jon looked at Rom. “Something up in town?”
“Aye,” said Ham before Rom could reply. “Some big shit deal from the capital just rode in on a fucking airship. Not so kindly removed Commander Isend from his perch and sat his ass down in the big chair.”
“Which is why we should be getting a move on,” said Rom. “Might as well have ridden in swords out with orders for us to drop trousers and take the pointy end up the wrong direction.”
“Might as well grab some food, Rom.” The soldiers started as the old man walked up silently behind them. He carried a scythe on one shoulder and the handle of a cart on the other. “No point in arguing. We’ll even keep some together for your return trip if you like.” The old man passed the boys on his way to the shed with nary another word.
“There, see?” said Ham, “Now there’s an old man who’s talking sense.”
The old man stopped and eyed the young soldier. “This old man will lay you flat before you can call for your mother’s tit, boy.”
Ham stared at the old man with his mouth agape before he visibly shuddered. “Right, uh, apologies, sir.”
Jon laughed. “When you get your foot out of your ass long enough to learn to walk again, feel free to help set the table.” He turned from them and walked back into the house.
Jon returned to the house as the soldiers wiped down their horses. Ana grabbed his arm as he came through the kitchen.
“You’re inviting them in!?” she said in a harsh whisper.
“Would have been decidedly more suspicious not to,” he calmly replied.
“Should I hide upstairs?”
“This house creaks like an old woman. Best to hide in plain sight.”
Her eyes grew wide, and a sudden breeze cracked the shudders. “Stop,” he said. “Calm thoughts.”
Her face clenched and unclenched with effort. The wind ceased as she took a breath. “So? What do we say?” she said with a strain.
Jon grimaced. “We’re going to have to lie, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
He added the rabbit to the stew with a pinch of salt. The water had come to a boil and the blood and broth bubbled pleasantly. Pepper and carrots and a few potatoes rose and bobbed with the meat of thin game. Beside him, Ana opened the oven with a mitt and carefully placed the unrisen bread on the rack. Her flour covered hands and face did nothing to diminish her beauty. Even as she worked amongst the humans, she carried herself high and walked with grace more fitting with birds and leaves, calmly adhering to gravity as she saw fit. He heard the soldiers finish with their horses before they banged their boots outside the front door. They barged in with the elegance of a stampede and practiced nothing to conceal their voices.
“We’re only staying a moment,” said Rom.
“Aye, yes, only a moment! For the gods’ sake Rom, you can remove the commander’s firm, polished rod out of your ass at any time now. He can’t see us.”
“It’s always like this with you! ‘Only a moment, aye, yes. Well hold on! We need to stay for tea and biscuit’. And then, ‘Well since we’re here, might as well have a dollop of brandy.’”
“If they offer, who am I to refuse?!” Ham exclaimed. “Plain rude, that is.”
“All well and good with Isend, but Isend isn’t there anymore, now is he? If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep my pay, and probably more importantly, my head.”
“Piss off, there’s no one willing to waste the time to cut off your—HOLY TITS!!.”
Jon turned. Both the soldiers were awestruck in the kitchen entrance. Their eyes roamed hungrily over Ana, who stood calmly wiping her hands with a towel. She met the gazes with curious reservation, or would have, had they been looking at her face. Jon threw a plate at Ham and was amused when it bounced off his armor and landed with a clamor on the floor. The soldiers startled and looked from him, to Ana, to the plate on the floor.
“Fuck me,” said Rom.
Ham cleared his throat and elbowed his mate. “Sorry, poor manners, I think what he meant to say was, ‘Hello, what an amazing pleasure it is to fuck you. Tits. Meet you. Balls, sorry.”
The goddess in farmer’s garb stared at them and said nothing. “Ana,” said Jon, “I’d like you to meet Ham and Rom. Regular fuck ups at the local garrison.”
“Sir Hamsey Frill,” corrected Ham. “And despite his demeaning introduction, I assure you there’s nothing regular about my fucking.”
Silence.
“Probably not appropriate,” said Rom quiet
ly.
“Definitely not,” teased Jon. “This is Ana, my…wife.” The boys turned in unison and regarded Jon with wide eyes, missing Ana’s horrified expression, despite his earlier warning and measured words. The deception, he had decided, made the most sense. Farmers married young, and it was well known that he had no family outside the old man. The solution seemed simple and required minimal explanation. At least, he hoped.
“Fuck,” said Ham, “No fucking way. You may have all the girls in town swooning, but you are not that good looking.”
“For once I might agree with Ham,” Rom agreed, “Jon, when did this come about? And what the fuck is Jenny going to say? You promised her a dance at the next Harvest Moon.”
Jon glared. “Really, Rom? Really?”
Jon watched as Ana narrowed her eyes. Cold fury was replaced by a frigid storm. “Jenny?” she asked, almost politely.
“Before I met you, darling, I was…frivolous with my promises,” said Jon.
The back door clanged open, and the old man’s entrance provided a welcome distraction. Noah entered and washed his hands in the basin before turning an eye to the scene.
“Why is the table not set?” he asked. The soldiers looked at each other before recovering from their stupor and making busy with bowls and plates, filling water cups, and gathering utensils. Ana strode calmly to Jon and met his eyes a handspan away. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and leaned into him. However affectionate the gesture may have seemed to the waiting soldiers, the hairs on the back of Jon’s neck stood on end with the weight of Ana’s palm. Windows rattled softly, and the light of the candles blew crazed shadows against an impending sunset.
“Calm down,” said Jon quietly before she could voice her anger. “Think. Why else would a girl show up at a farm in the middle of nowhere?”
She stared at him before taking a shuddering breath. “This lie does not please me,” she murmured. “At all.”
“You don’t have to like it,” he whispered back. “You just have to go with it for a moment.”
She cocked her head, “Go with it?”
“Yes. Entertain that it is the truth.”
Her masked fury dissipated, and she smiled. It was not at all convincing, “The Wind is not without a sense of playfulness.” She turned back to the soldiers and helped them finish setting the table.
“So, who’s Jenny?” she said loud enough for all to hear. The visitors stopped their work and looked between her and Jon. Jon eyed her. He sighed and accepted his penance.
“She’s a girl. In town,” he said.
“Frightfully ugly, though,” added Ham quickly. “I’m sure Jon only offered her a dance only out of the kindness that he keeps very near to his heart.”
Rom eyed his friend. “Are we talking about the same Jenny?”
“So, she’s not frightfully ugly?” asked Ana.
“Well compared to you,” said Ham with a grin.
“Ham,” said Jon. “Stop helping me.” He turned to Ana. “I promised her a dance last year. That’s it. Nothing came of it.”
“Nothing,” laughed Ham. “She only serves him at the tavern, hoping that he’ll get drunk enough to take a pass at her. Not that you’d have to be drunk, mind you.”
“Ham! Stop. Helping. Me.”
“So, you’ve led this poor girl on,” said Ana seriously, “with no mention of your impending betrothal. Gods, had my father known this….” She angrily threw forks and spoons at plates. “How many others have there been, I wonder?”
“Now, miss—er, missus,” said Rom, “I’m sure it just slipped his mind, as he hasn’t been to the tavern in quite some time. Why I dare say that there’s no one in town with knowledge of your marriage. Honestly, Jon, we could use a bit of warning every now and again.”
“Marriage.” All eyes turned to the old man at his seat at the head of the table. He sat quietly observing Jon with an upraised brow.
“Yes,” confirmed Ana. “Can you believe that Jon neglected to mention our betrothal to anyone?”
“Nay,” said the old man. “Such oversight is very unlike you, my son.”
“Quite rude,” agreed Ham, “And a far more important matter is that of family.”
“What are you on about?” Rom asked.
“I’m glad you asked.” Ham turned to Ana. “Tell me miss, do you have any sisters?”
“That’s enough,” said the old man. “Ham fill the bowls. Rom, the bread.”
Ana and Jon joined the old man at the table while the guests finished serving without question. As was often the case, people did not question the old man, and seldom gave pause to his commands. The old man shared a look with Ana before they turned to Jon in unison. He shrugged. Ham ladled stew into everyone’s bowl and Rom took his time carving the bread. They waited for the soldiers to sit before they started to eat.
For a while, none spoke as they gorged on stewed rabbit and hot bread. The guests ate without fanfare, but they spilled nothing and naught was wasted. There was plenty to eat, but at the rate they finished their first and second bowl, Jon harbored a small fear they would run out. Eventually they slowed, dipping bits of bread into remnants of stew.
“Drop of brandy?” asked the old man. Before they answered he got up and gathered the old bottle from the cupboard.
“Sorry, sir,” began Rom, “but we really should be going.”
“Nonsense,” said Ham to Rom’s great displeasure. “We would be honored, sir.” Ham shook off Rom’s added look. “Don’t be rude; have a drink.”
The old man poured their glasses, and one for himself, Ana, and Jon.
“So,” Rom started. “How did you two meet?”
Ah shit, thought Jon. “Well—”
“I was born,” Ana interrupted, “very much north of here. Jon and his father were there on an…expedition of sorts.”
“Seeking trade with the Roamers,” chimed the old man, “if I recall correctly.” He sipped his brandy and Jon suspected he might very nearly be enjoying himself.
“My father was one of the wealthier, and I the youngest of quite a few,” Ana said whimsically while twirling the brandy between her fingers. All sense of her previous anxiety evaporated as she wove the tale from thin air.
Ham gasped. “There are more of you…”
“Oh yes, my sisters are quite the capricious lot. Should they ever come to town, I’ll be sure to provide an introduction. The ones still unclaimed, of course.”
Rom replied, “I am very much interested in this word…capricious.”
“If it means what I think it means, then when can they get here and how long will it take to get a message to them?” Ham added.
Ana laughed. It was so melodious that all the young men at the table, Jon included, smiled inward and out. “At any rate, Noah was speaking with my father when Jon here decided he would explore our house.”
“Do not the Roamers live on those big ass carriages that take two teams to pull?” Rom asked.
“Her father’s carriage was very nearly the size of this house,” added the old man.
“And he stumbled upon me in the bath.” Ana smiled over her glass. He had not realized it, but Jon had leaned forward on his arms with Ham and Rom at the revealing of this little detail. I suddenly wish this had been an actual occurrence, he thought.
She continued, “After a great deal of embarrassment and some hurried displays of chivalry, he actually asked me out for a ride.”
“I did?” Jon barely whispered before clearing his throat. “I did. And what a ride that was.”
Rom started, “You actually said yes? After he unabashedly stumbled upon you…naked?”
“I must admit that such a thing has yet to happen to me when I stumble into the baths,” Ham muttered.
“Aye, he’s got the switch marks to prove it,” Rom confirmed.
She shrugged. “What can I say? I liked the way he…looked at me. Afterwards we rode to a field of flowers and…well here we are.” She shared a teasing smile just
for Jon, and he felt his cheeks grow hot. He and the other young men grew silent as they contemplated the depths of hidden meaning in her grin.
The old man barked a laugh. “Her father was less than pleased, but the promise of their first born seemed enough to ease his pain.”
The shock of their faces drew a great laugh from Ana.
“Wait…” managed Rom. “What?”
“H-how much of that was true?” exclaimed Ham woefully. “Someone tell me some of that was true!”
Jon leaned back in his seat and rubbed his face to hide the redness. Their laughter sent a pleased rumble through the house. They quieted down, sipping the last of their brandies, and settled into a contented silence.
The old man finally spoke. “What news from the town? What of this new commander?” he asked. Jon relaxed in his chair as the soldiers perked up. Ana looked across the table at Jon, satisfied. He hung his head, embarrassed.
Ham grimaced and admired the remaining contents of his glass. “Some old dog from back in the Expansion. Usually you’d think an outpost like this would be like being put out to pasture, but this one’s different.”
“Aye,” agreed Rom, “Commander Isend didn’t care for it much, neither. Out of the blue, it came.”
“What is different?” the old man asked.
“He’s got everyone up in arms,” Rom answered. “Increasing patrols, shining boots, routine inspections, more time in the fields.”
“Sword arm actually starting to get sore,” said Ham.
“Poor bastards,” said Jon. “Might actually have to work now.”
“Laugh all you want,” said Ham. “But this one’s got a stick up his ass the size of the Emperor’s cock…which I’m sure is very large. Even got the goddamn Maddogs going around looking for some…war criminal was it?”
“Which,” said Rom, “I must reiterate, is why I argue so forcefully for getting on. Bastard’s like to be standing there and marking the dial every time a patrol comes in.”
“That’s a load of shit.”
“If we end up spit shining latrines for the sake of a drop of brandy, I swear by all the gods I’ll fuck your mother.”
Ham spat out his drink. “What the fu…?! A little unnecessary, don’t you think?”
