“This is for peddle sewing,” he responded as he started to push the peddle with both feet. A long rod extended from the peddle to a wheel, which when turned, caused a needle to go up and down. Across the top were spools of thread that were gathered into a single thread that was fed through the needle. As he peddled, the needle moved up and down in quick succession. Bennet put two pieces of the leather together and pushed it through the contraption. The needle went up and down quickly through the fabric and in no time at all Bennet had completed a pair of trousers.
Bennet sat it aside and started working on a second piece. Sterling grew quiet again as she watched Bennet sew several more trousers. In only an hour he had sewn six pairs in what would have taken Sister Treva days to make. Sterling rubbed her chest when she felt a pang in her heart. Memories of watching Sister Treva mend all the girls’ dresses at the orphanage had immediately brought feelings of sadness. Sterling fondly remembered times when she would help when the pile became too large for just Sister Treva.
Occasionally Bennet would glance at Sterling and then back at the piece, making sure his measurements were correct. Sterling grew sleepy listening to the staccato sounds of the needle as it went up and down. She closed her eyes for only a moment and was startled when Bennet spoke.
“You have too many scars for a child of your age.”
“I am no child,” she returned. “I will be twenty-two next spring season.”
Bennet continued to push the leather through the machine, “At my age you are still an infant.” He glanced at her without lifting his head, “Do not evade the question.”
Sterling avoided looking at Bennet and examined her fingernails. “They were a gift from the Severon,” she muttered still not looking up from the ragged nails.
He mumbled something under his breath. Sterling knew it could not have been good, for his brows furrowed causing a deep chasm to appear in the old flesh. She was thankful that he dropped the topic and did not bring it up again.
Sterling put her chin on her hand and waited, and her eyelids grew heavy as the time passed.
“You are a Devian, like your mother,” Bennet said, not looking up.
Sterling nodded, “Though I do not know much about her.”
“Some say that the Devians brought bad luck with them from Fin’Varrar.”
Sterling sat up. She wanted to hear more of her mother’s people, “Why do they say that?”
“Kell Wrenkin nearly wiped out the entire Devian race when he attacked Fin’Varrar. Those that were able to escape were followed by Wrenkin’s army to Kai’Vari. Any Kai’Varians found harboring the refugees were murdered. Some Kai’Varians, fearing Wrenkin’s soldiers, gave up the Devians they were harboring. Because of this betrayal the remaining Devians became suspicious of almost everyone and many turned against the Kai’Varians that tried to help them.”
Sterling fell silent as she thought on Bennet’s words. She wondered if that was what happened to Gilda’s son. Had he helped a Devian only to betray him to the Severon? Were there still Kai’Varians that would sell her out for the coins the Severon offered?
“Would it be too much trouble to add a hood to what you have already sewn?” Sterling asked.
Bennet paused in his task and stared at Sterling, “Why would you need a hood?”
Sterling shrugged. “In case it rains,” she lied. She knew he was doubtful, but he agreed to the request.
“There,” Bennet stretched, “All done,” He placed the last piece in a stack that had steadily grown. He looked down at Sterling’s feet. “You’ll need a pair of boots as well, and stockings.” He walked out from behind his table with a thick piece of leather in his hand and placed it on a raised dais, “Come, stand here.”
Sterling slid off the stool and stood where he pointed. Bennet traced around her foot with a piece of charcoal and then repeated the process with her left foot. “Why are you so tiny?” He grumbled as he stood from where he had been sitting on the floor. “This will take a few minutes,” Bennet said, returning to his work table. When Sterling hesitated he looked up, eyebrow raised, “Well? Get dressed.”
Sterling blushed at Bennet’s words, but she was happy that she could finally put something on other than the dress. Bennet handed her a pair of the trousers and a leather top. “You’ll need these as well,” he said, handing her a thin cotton undergarment that fit snug against her skin. Sterling’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Stop being such a girl and go change,” he groused, pointing at a screen that sat hidden in the dark corner of the room.
Sterling took her pile of new clothes and stepped behind the screen. She pulled the bulky bloomers off and pulled the fitted underpants up her legs. They were so different from what she was used to, but she liked how they felt much better than the bloomers Moira had forced upon her. Next, she stepped into the leather trousers, bent, and pulled them up her legs reveling in the feel of the soft leather. They melded to her form allowing a wide range of movement, but they were durable and the seams were well stitched.
Sterling put on the fitted leather vest Bennet had fashioned for her. The leather was lined with a soft breathable cotton fabric that felt like silk next to her skin. The outside was the same supple leather as her trousers. It was fitted around her stomach and waist and cupped her breasts. The two pieces in the front overlapped so the front was doubled. She tightened the laces that were offset down the left side. Her arms were bare which gave her more freedom to move. The hood she had requested from Bennet was attached perfectly to the vest and when she pulled it over her head it hung at just the right angle to conceal her eyes from onlookers.
Sterling was thrilled with Bennet’s work and could not contain the smile that spread as she stepped out from behind the screen. Sterling admired his work in a mirror that stood against the opposite wall. The leather felt like water against her skin when she moved.
“It’s perfect,” Sterling declared as Bennet stepped from around his table.
“Try these on.” He handed her a pair of stockings and the boots he’d fashioned for her.
Sterling could not control the giggle that escaped as she plopped down on the floor and pulled the stockings over her feet. She pulled the boots over the thin stockings and up her leather clad leg. The fit of the boot was perfect for her smaller foot. She’d always had to stuff her boots with extra socks because they had been made for a man’s larger foot. She was thrilled to have boots especially made for her. She tightened the buckle along the top of the boots that came just below her knees. The black leather of the boots contrasted with the soft brown of the trousers.
“They are perfect.” Sterling stood, and without thinking gave Bennet a quick kiss on the cheek before he could pull away.
The bell on the door rang and Moira walked in just as Sterling was kissing Bennet. “I see I made it back just in time to stop Sterling from ravaging you Bennet.” Moira closed the door behind her as she stepped fully into the room, “All done?” Sterling nodded, examining herself again in the mirror. “You look happy now that you are out of that dress.”
“I am,” Sterling responded.
Moira couldn’t help but notice how the trousers and vest molded to Sterling’s form. I can’t wait to see Brom’s expression when he sees Sterling.
Bennet packaged the rest of Sterling’s new clothes, “You have five extra trousers and four other vests, including a jacket and a long sleeve shirt for when the harvest season passes.” He set the package on the ground and then went back to his work table. “These are yours as well.” He returned with two forearm guards. He held one out for Sterling to put her arm in and he laced it up. Like the vest, it was lined with a soft cotton that was to keep the moisture away from her skin. He laced the second one before handing her a belt.
“It is too much,” Sterling said as he wrapped the belt around her waist and buckled it so it sat askew on her waist. Pouches were sewn onto the belt, so they sat in the small of her back and there was a small scabbard for a dagger that h
ung along her left leg.
“For a fellow Rin’Ovana, it is never too much.”
“Fellow…” Bennet’s revelation shocked Sterling. “You are a Rin’Ovana?”
“Aye, but I go by Pan’Dale now. It was a shame what happened to your parents.” Bennet picked up the package and handed it to Sterling before returning to his work table. “Perhaps one day the Rin’Ovana’s will be written back into the Book of Tohms and its honor restored.”
“Are you ready then?” Moira asked, smiling tenderly.
“Yes,” Sterling said, happier than she had been in a very long time. She felt a pang in her heart, but this time it was one of happiness and not guilt or fear or dread. “Thank you,” Sterling said to Bennet before stepping through the door and into the bright sun.
“They really suit you.” Moira headed towards the main road, “Much more so than that awful dress.” Moira glanced over her shoulder, her smile gone, “You really don’t need that hood. The people here will love you.”
Sterling hesitated. She had seen their stares when she first arrived, but perhaps it had simply been out of curiosity and not malice. Sterling pushed the hood off her head deciding that now was the time to start trusting. Hopefully this one small gesture will open her heart just a little. She followed Moira back out to the main street and stopped for a moment to truly take in Menarik.
Menarik was a wild array of shops and homes. The shops were on the bottom, while the homes were on the second floor. Signs hung outside each of the buildings advertising their wares. Candle makers, butchers, a bakery and the blacksmith all lined the same side of the street as Bennet’s shop. Across the street Sterling saw a fletcher and what looked like a sweet shop. Strange neighbors, Sterling thought.
The streets were clean, unlike the dirty streets of Shee where trash lined the small narrow streets. The market sat at the far end of the road and Sterling could see stalls with various vegetables and other homemade goods. She could hear the squeal of pigs echoing off the white and brown walls of the shops.
“I want you to try something.” Moira said as she crossed the street and Sterling followed. At first the villagers greeted them with pleasantries, but as more noticed Sterling, the pleasantries turned to wary glares. Sterling looked over her shoulder to see the villagers pause to watch them pass. Their behavior went completely unnoticed by Moira. She was busy chatting with an old woman and did not notice the gathering crowd. Moira said her goodbyes and pulled Sterling into a shop.
The smell hit Sterling full on as they stepped into the sweet shop. The most wondrous aroma swirled around Sterling and invited her to step further into the store. Sterling’s stomach growled at the enticing aroma.
Moira laughed, “It is wonderful isn’t it? Here, try this.” She plucked a piece of chocolate off a tray and handed it to Sterling. Sterling placed the dark brown chocolate on her tongue and it melted into the most glorious thing she had ever tasted.
“This is chocolate?” Sterling asked. She’d heard of the sweet that many of the shops in Shee sold, but she’d never tasted it. The price for a piece was far outside what she or Hemi could have ever afforded.
Entranced by the sweet morsel, Sterling stepped up to the counter to look at all the different shapes of the wondrous chocolate. The lady behind the counter was smiling at Sterling’s reaction until Sterling looked up. Her smile disappeared from her round face and was replaced by an angry stare that creased her brow. “Devian,” she hissed, “You don’t belong here. Get out of my shop,” she said angrily before throwing a handful of flour at Sterling.
Sterling coughed as she inhaled the flour. She felt the blood rush from her face at the woman’s anger. Moira was surprised by the woman’s reaction, “Robena! What are you about? She is a guest and should be treated with the same respect you show both Orrven and myself.”
“I’m sorry Milady, but I’ll not have her kind in my shop. It was her kind that murdered Gilda’s son and caused Gilda so much pain. Nothing but misfortune follows her kind.”
“I’ll speak to Orrven about this.” Moira was livid with Robena. “Come along Sterling.” Moira grabbed her by the arm and pushed the door open. Sterling said nothing as an enraged Moira pulled her towards the wagon. Villagers lined the streets parting to form a path as Moira shoved her way through.
“Get on,” Moira said behind gritted teeth.
Just as Sterling was about to climb into the wagon she was hit in the back of the head by something soft and wet. She turned and was hit again by a tomato in the shoulder and again on the side of the head. A man yelled, “Go away Devian!” as he hurled an egg at Sterling, hitting her in the center of her chest.
“Sterling! Get on the wagon, now.” Moira’s tone was one of pure rage. Sterling did not hesitate again and climbed up beside the furious woman.
Sterling quickly pulled the hood over her head to hide herself from onlookers. Her heart sank in her chest. This place was no different than Duenin; they were no different than the people of Shee that had scorned her because of her eyes. Her misery would follow her for the rest of her life. There was nowhere for her to go where she would be accepted as anything other than a monster. Would it have been better if she’d just died at the hands of the Severon? The thought wiggled its way into her brain as she looked at Moira. She softly said, “You lied,” and then turned away. Distrust, anger, and self-loathing swirled in her vision as they jolted forward.
31
Waking
Nightmare
“You lied to me!” Those were the words that met Brom as he rounded the corner of the Keep. A crowd had gathered around Moira and Sterling as they faced one another in the courtyard. Moira’s face was white as she held her hands up trying to calm a very upset Sterling.
“Is that Sterling?” Orrven asked as he stopped beside Brom, “Who would have thought that small frame had that many curves?”
Brom couldn’t help but noticed the form-fitting trousers and vest that Sterling wore. He also noticed the way the men surrounding them looked at Sterling.
“You lied to me!” Sterling repeated the words when Moira tried to speak.
“Did she just call my wife a liar?” Orrven started forward, but Brom stopped him.
“You promised me they would be different. You promised me they would love me!” Brom could hear the desperation in her voice as she yelled at Moira, “This place is no different than Duenin!”
“Sterling, they don’t understand yet that you are a good person. Give them time.”
“No, they don’t and neither do you! You live up on this hill with your perfect life and with your perfect family. You know nothing of suffering, you know nothing!”
“Sterling, please,” Moira said again trying to calm her.
“I should have just given up and died in that Severon prison.” Sterling’s anger seemed to deflate at her words.
“Don’t say that!” Moira pleaded, trying to console Sterling.
“Why not? It’s the truth isn’t it? Everyone would have been better off if I never existed!” Sterling threw her arms in the air out of frustration and turned to leave.
“Sterling!” Moira called after her.
“Well that was unexpected,” Orrven mumbled as they both started toward a visibly upset Moira.
Brom did not take his eyes off Sterling as she stomped toward the front doors of the Keep. Her thoughts about not existing coupled with the nightmares she had that ripped screams from her worried Brom greatly. Her screaming would continue until he sat beside her on the bed. It was only then that she would sleep peacefully. He wondered what it was that caused such terror.
The men in the courtyard began to disperse as the drama ceased. Moira wiped a tear away and leaned into Orrven, “It was just awful,” she mumbled into Orrven’s chest.
“What happened?” Brom asked, keeping an eye on Sterling.
“The villagers,” Moira glanced at Sterling, “they threw food at her and called her the most horrible of names.”
Bro
m decided to follow Sterling and started in her direction. She had just reached the steps and was half way up when the doors suddenly opened. Sterling stopped in her tracks when she spotted Lirit standing in the dark opening. Brom’s niece stood at the top of the steps in a white gown with a red stain running down the front. Brom thought he heard a gasp as Sterling backed down the stairs away from Lirit. Her head was shaking, and she held out her hands in front of herself as if to ward off Lirit. “Please leave me be,” Sterling pleaded as she backed down the stairs.
Brom was nearly to her when she tripped on the bottom step and landed with a thud in the dust. “Please,” Sterling pleaded again as she stumbled to her feet, “please, do not torment me any longer.”
Lirit started down the stairs when Sterling fell. Lirit was a compassionate child, who Brom was sure only wanted to help, but Sterling back peddled away from the child, “Please.” Sterling begged as she gained her feet. Tripping and skidding across the loose dirt she ran towards the woods.
“Sterling!” Brom called after her, but she was in a panic. He’d seen her face as she raced past and it had been as white as a sheet as if she’d seen a ghost.
Lirit called out to Moira, “Momma, I spilled paint on my dress.” Lirit looked back at where Sterling had run past, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No dear, she is just upset. Now, let us get you cleaned up.”
Brom left Moira and Orrven behind to tend to Lirit and went after Sterling. Her tracks were not difficult to follow. She’d left broken tree limbs and bent grasses in her wake in her hurry to flee. He could see where she’d fallen to her knees on the soft ground and then hurried away. How far was she planning on running? Brom asked himself. He continued to follow her trail until he came to a small clearing with a shallow pond. She was on her knees leaning over the water, peering at herself in the stillness, her body trembling. Brom slowly walked toward her, clearing his throat so not to startle her. He had no desire to go chasing after her deeper into the forest.
The Elemental Union: Book One Devian Page 24
