Depravity (A Beastly Tale Book 1)(2)

A chase that could have ended much worse, I thought.

Sighing, I checked that the carrots were undamaged from my fall, grabbed  one out, and started munching on it as I walked. There'd be no going  back to the baker's today. I hoped Bryn would be able to make something  of the carrots.

Birds chattered around me, and the mist dissipated the closer I came to  home. The trees thinned, and I spotted the curling wisps of smoke from  Konrall's chimneys ahead. At our cottage on the outskirts of the  village, I wiped my feet on the rug before letting myself inside.                       
       
           



       

The smell of breakfast surrounded me and, despite the carrot I had  eaten, my stomach growled again. Bryn stood before the stove, stirring  something. Everything else was quiet. I glanced around. Two cups sat  near the edge of the sink. Father and Blye had already left for work.

"Any luck this morning?" Bryn asked as she plated an egg and some greens for me.

"No bread. But I do have a lovely bunch of carrots." I set the carrots on the table and sat at one of the four chairs.

I lived at home with my father, Benard, and my two sisters, Bryn and  Blye. Father taught the local children for a modest fee, and Blye helped  the seamstress. What little money Blye brought home, she gave to  Father. Mostly, Blye received scraps of lace and ribbon as payment,  which she kept in a box in our room. She was clever with a needle and  thread. So much so, that no one could tell I wore hand off clothes from  my sisters.

"Mr. Medunge wasn't cooperating again?" Bryn asked.

She knew the baker didn't often trade. He required coin. Except this  morning. I stirred the eggs on my plate, wondering if I should mention  what I'd witnessed. I wasn't even sure if I could talk about it, but  shouldn't someone know that Mr. Medunge had gone too far? I recalled  Sara's face, flushed and uncomfortable with a trace of disgust when she  had stood. She wouldn't like anyone knowing what she'd done for bread,  so I kept the tale to myself.

"I didn't bother with him. It's easier if I wait for Mrs. Medunge."

Bryn cleaned up breakfast from the stove then turned toward me.

"If you have no plans for today, would you circle the estate? We're running low on just about everything."

I glanced at the shelves near the stove. Crocks and cloth sacks lined  the aged wood planks. Granted, a few of the sacks drooped loosely at the  tops, but they weren't empty. It took a moment for me to realize it  wasn't supplies she wanted but my absence.

Bryn had it in her head that Tennen, the same Tennen who'd locked me in  the beast's garden, would make her a fine husband. She thought the  Coalre family was wealthy and wanted a comfortable life. Little did she  know. However, I needed no further motivation to eat quickly and bring  my plate to the sink. I didn't want another run-in with Tennen or Splane  so soon.

Because of Bryn's unshakeable infatuation with Tennen, I didn't bother  telling her what he'd done. Any remotely negative remark toward the  Coalre family would result in retribution from Bryn, usually in the form  of inedible food.

Taking the fresh carrots from the bag, I searched the sacks on the shelf  for any aging vegetables. Wilted greens caught my eye, and I swapped  them for the carrots. Calling out a farewell to my sister, I left her to  her affairs and once again trekked toward the beast's estate.

I didn't mind the time I spent outdoors. It was a vastly acceptable  pastime compared to my sisters' chosen occupations. Sewing for an  extended period numbed my mind, as did cleaning and cooking. Amongst the  trees, however, opportunity for adventure abounded.

In the woods, just before entering the thicker mists, I set several  snares with the wilted greens. I'd learned long ago not to set my traps  any closer to the estate. Odd things happened to them if I did. I often  found the ropes chewed to pieces and, once, animal feces in place of the  bait in the exact center of the unsprung trap. It didn't take long for  me to determine the vegetation wasn't the only thing enchanted around  the estate.

With the snares set and nothing else to do, I went to the nearby stream  that ran perpendicular to the estate, flowing south near Konrall. Since  most people didn't venture this close to the estate, I enjoyed enough  privacy for a swim. Clothed, of course, since the waters still ran cold;  and I didn't trust Splane to stay home while Bryn entertained Tennen. I  didn't linger long.

Chilled and wet from my time in the water, I shivered as I walked my way  around the estate, heading east. It typically took me most of the day  to complete the circuit, but I didn't mind. Gradually, the wall curved  north, and I passed the place where things usually grew. I was not  surprised to see barren ground, even though I had picked only a third of  what the estate had offered that morning. A third seemed more than a  fair share to me, and the estate seemed to agree for, if I returned  later in the day, as I did now, it never offered more.

At the northernmost point of the walled property, I spotted a unique  flower growing from the mortar. Its roots barely clung to the hardened  surface, but I didn't puzzle over it. I knew that anything was possible  at the estate or near its wall. I plucked the flower, placed it in my  bag, and continued on my way.                       
       
           



       

Several hours later, I came back to my traps and found I was lucky to  have caught a fat rabbit. Its dull eyes let me know it'd been waiting  for me awhile.

With the rabbit slung over my shoulder, I started home. Bryn could make a  wonderful rabbit stew, and I knew to look forward to it for breakfast.

At home, Bryn had already cleaned up dinner but had left a plate for me  near the stove to keep it warm. She thanked me when I showed her the  rabbit, but insisted I clean it before I ate. She didn't want it staring  at her any longer than necessary.

Tired, hungry, and wanting to change out of my stiff clothes, I went to  the back and cleaned the rabbit, keeping the skin for the butcher. The  butcher, a kind man, took many different things in trade for meat. My  luck with snares didn't often require me to visit the butcher, but it  didn't stop me from helping him when I could. I had no use for the  skins, but he cured them and sold them to traveling merchants or anyone  else looking for leather or fur. It didn't amount to much money for him,  but it did make it possible for him to be charitable to my family when  the need arose.

With the carcass clean and the skin set to dry, I brought Bryn what she  needed for the stew and sat down for my own rushed dinner. I hadn't  forgotten the flower and wanted to ask my father about it.

My father, a brilliant man, often fell under the thrall of the books  that lined his study walls and didn't hear me when I first knocked. I  knocked a second time to get his attention. He looked up with a smile  and motioned me in, setting his book to the side.

"What do you have there, Bini?" he asked.

I grinned at him, liking that he had used his pet name for me. It meant I had his full attention.

"I found this near the wall. Do you know what it is?" I handed the delicate flower to him.

"It's a primrose, dear. We don't see them here." He set the flower on  his desk and stood, eyeing his shelves. "Let's see..." He moved to a  section and took a book from its place. Flipping it open, he read for  several moments, occasionally turning several pages at a time. "Here,"  he said, handing me the book.

In it, an artist had sketched a likeness of my flower. Once common to  many places around the world, its numbers had dwindled as ladies,  enraptured by its sweet smell, tore it from the ground in vast  quantities to make perfume. I frowned at the book then at the flower. I  shouldn't have picked it.

"I would think your sister, Bryn, would like the flower if you have no  use for it. She could make a light scent from it. Very small, of course.  Fun for her to try, no doubt," he said as he went back to his book.

I scooped up the wilted flower, replaced the book, and did as he suggested, feeling guilty.

* * * *

With relief, I tucked the warm loaf of bread into the bag hanging from  my shoulder. The crust crackled as I handled it, sending the yeasty  smell into the air to tickle my nose; and I couldn't wait to get back to  the cottage to show Bryn.

After two days of patiently waiting, I'd finally had a bit of luck. In  need of a visit to the outhouse, the baker had called for his mother and  asked her to watch the browning bread.

Mrs. Medunge called another thanks for the carrots and wild onions and  waved a farewell from the side door. I spared her a brief wave in return  and hurried from the cramped alley between the bakery and the baker's  storage shed.

Konrall consisted of one main dirt road that divided the village north  to south. To the north, it led to the next village, Water-On-The-Bridge,  some twelve miles away. To the south, it led to farmlands and little  else. But here, in the middle of the village, its stone filled ruts lent  a clean look, as did the trim grass growing between the line of  buildings on each side of the road.