My stomach growled, and I eyed the sky. Inside, the cottage remained quiet, and I wondered where Blye had gone. Wrinkling my nose at the thought of going inside, I set off walking east away from the village and the estate to see what the woods might offer me to eat. Though my intentions to stay away from the estate were pure, my mind kept going back to the shirt and the cheese; and soon, my feet were taking me north.
First, I checked the ground by the tumbled rock and found peas growing so thick that the plants twined together into a solid blanket. I stopped to pick a few, nibbling them to take the edge off my hunger, then stuffed a handful into each pocket, regretting my lack of a bag.
Continuing on, I walked the perimeter of the wall until I reached the gate, which swung open in a slow, loud arc to announce my presence. Assuming nothing, I stayed standing outside of the estate and looked over my shoulder, eyeing the peaceful trees behind me. Shadows claimed those nearest the estate, but in the distance I could make out some sun dappled branches.
Swallowing hard and hoping no one stood near enough to hear, I looked back into the shadowy estate and called out, "Are you there?"
Silence answered me.
"The shirt...I left it because I wasn't sure if you meant for me to keep it or not. If you did..." Nothing inside the estate stirred. My stomach growled, and I reached into my pocket for another peapod. I chewed thoughtfully, enjoying the crisp sweetness while wondering if he waited somewhere inside, listening to me.
After several long moments, I gave up and turned back the way I'd come. I harvested more peas and carried home what I'd picked in the loose ends of my shirt.
Leaving all but a handful of my harvest on the kitchen table for Bryn to do with as she would, I secluded myself in Father's study, picking a book at random to entertain myself until dinner. Occasionally, Bryn or Blye's quiet voices would break through my concentration, but never long enough to listen to what they said.
Father arrived home and, with a twinkle in his eyes, complimented me on my new shirt. I met his smile with a grin of my own as I replaced the book I'd just finished and went to check on my dress. The damp air hadn't helped the cloth dry through, so I was forced to wear a slightly soggy dress to the Kinlyn's.
They lived close to two miles outside of town to the south, a long walk for Bryn and Blye, who never ventured further than the village on foot. Both walked side-by-side quietly matching steps as if on a march. Father and I walked behind them. Other than his cheery greeting to me when I'd returned home, he'd said little. Unlike their subdued moods, I happily looked forward to dinner. Anticipation of a good meal was only part of it. This would be my first official dinner at someone else's home.
Mrs. Kinlyn, who I'd never met directly but had seen in the village on a few occasions, stood in the doorway of their modest home, watching for us. The trees had been cleared from around the house for quite a distance to allow for an animal shed and several fields. Uprooted trees at the edge of the fields, bordering the woods beyond, foretold of bigger fields for next year's crops.
"Welcome," Mrs. Kinlyn said with a smile as she motioned for us to enter. She looked close to Father's age, perhaps a bit older, with windburned, brown skin. Tiny white lines fanned from the corners of her eyes from squinting in the sun. I found her happy smile infectious and smiled in return. My sisters murmured polite greetings.
Inside the square home, a single wall divided the room in half. At one end of the room, a long table with several chairs around it took up most of the space along with the hearth. The other side of the room held the kitchen with a modern iron oven. Two closed doors interrupted the plain wall, and I guessed they led to bedrooms.
At the table, six men sat waiting. Well, almost men since the youngest looked about nine. They all appeared freshly washed, and I bet they wore their best clothes like we did. The Kinlyn children had all inherited their mother's smile.
"Please, sit. Everything's ready. Henick, help me with the roast, please," Mrs. Kinlyn said.
One of the older boys stood to help his mother while Mr. Kinlyn rose to greet Father and shake his hand. Introductions were made. Henick, the oldest at twenty, smiled when his father said his name. Renald, the next at eighteen, nodded politely, his smile never wavering. Kennen, close to my own age, winked at me when his father said his name. I wanted to wink back, but all eyes were on me so I just smiled in return. The introductions ended with Bolen and, finally, Parlen.
Mr. Kinlyn directed us to our seats with Father and me sitting near Mr. and Mrs. Kinlyn, and Bryn and Blye sitting at the other end of the table with Henick and Renald. Seeing the arrangement, I knew I had been correct in the purpose behind the dinner. The youngest, Parlen, sat to my right with Kennen across from me.
I listened with half an ear to Henick and Renald's attempts to converse with my sisters. They politely asked after the interests of my sisters, but neither answered in enough detail to inspire an intelligent response. So the brothers started explaining about their father's plans for their crops. I couldn't understand Bryn and Blye. All of the Kinlyn men were handsome enough and had pleasant natures. Why weren't they giving them a chance?
"What do you do here, Parlen?" I asked the sandy blonde boy sitting beside me.
He politely wiped his mouth before answering. "When we need to dig around a tree before pulling it, I help with the digging. Otherwise, it's care for the animals and hunt for game."
"Really? What do you hunt?" interest spurred me to ask.
"Mostly rabbit and wild hen," he said. "But once I came this close to bagging a wild pig." He held his thumb and forefinger up with an inch of space between.
Kennen laughed and picked up the story.
"He's lucky the pig escaped the trap before he tried to wrestle him down. It had tusks enough to bleed him."
"Kennen," Mrs. Kinlyn said in quiet warning.
The only good conversation to be heard and it wasn't fit for the dinner table. I suppressed a sigh and tried again.
"I trap rabbit, mostly. We don't have anything else wild so near the village. If I cross the river to the east, I can usually find some type of bird."
"River?" Parlen perked up.
"It runs south, just east of the village," I said slowly, trying to visualize how far it might be from the Kinlyn farm. "I'd think you'd run into it less than an hour's walk east."
"S'True," Mr. Kinlyn said in his quiet way. "Runs slow and deep for a bit."
"Good fishing?" Renald asked with interest. All of the Kinlyn boys watched their father closely.
Mr. Kinlyn laughed slowly.
"Looks like we should rest the trees tomorrow and try for some fish."
The boys agreed with a laugh. Liking the happy calm atmosphere of their home, I listened to their plans and ate until my stomach ached.
* * * *
The walk home seemed to take longer, but at least we didn't walk in silence. Father asked Blye what she thought of Renald.
"He seems nice enough, but I'd still like to try to apprentice at a seamstress in Water-On-The-Bridge. The one we visited yesterday wanted to see an example of my work and said she would consider me if it was well done."
Father nodded without comment and then asked Bryn what she thought of Henick.
"If I marry him, I will die before my time," Bryn ominously predicted.
I wanted to ask her how she could possibly know when her time was but kept silent.
Father made no comment either.
Seven
The sun set as we followed the main road to the village. In the distance, the baying cry of a lonely dog broke the evening's quiet. The scuff of our footfalls on the packed earth kept us company.
When we returned home, a large chest rested on the ground in front of our door. Attached to the clasp, a single piece of crisp parchment fluttered in the slight breeze. Father plucked up the paper before any of us could move close enough to read it and brought it inside, heading for his study. Bryn and Blye stared at the chest for a moment, neither moving to touch it. Skirting around it as Father had, I followed him to the study. After a brief delay, I heard Bryn and Blye follow.
"It would appear news of your need to marry has spread," he mumbled looking troubled. "This note worries me."
He handed the sheet over for us to read.
Sir,
This trunk is but an example of what I can offer for your daughter should you willingly part with her this very night.