The Ferryman - Book 1

Chapter 76:

The First Offering

With the number of sentry volunteers, the work finished before the sun was even close to setting.

Many of the Aldur farmers were repulsed that they were being served by sentries, but the agony of their fogged limbs helped them overcome their disgust. Several dozen farmers refused to be served – they boiled with anger while waiting in the carts, only accepting to take the recipe from Moth and nothing else.

This didn’t offend Lt. Saavule, simply because he didn’t care enough about farmers to be stung by their disapproval. Once all the farmers were served and seen off, he and the other lieutenants rounded up their sentries and left the grove.

Moth still felt as if she were dreaming – relaxed and rested, she sat on the porch and thumbed through her journal, full of stories collected from the Aldur farmers.

“You hungry?” Lt. Grotte asked, leaning out the door.

Moth nodded, “Oh, yes, I’m starving. Thank you for cooking.”

“Don’t want to risk being fed porridge again.”

Moth glanced sideways at her, but she was already back in the house finishing up the meal. Though Lt. Grotte wasn’t sullen or withdrawn, Moth felt there was still a cloud between them from that morning’s conversation.

Moth agonized over what she’d said, doubting it’d been wise to tell Lt. Grotte about tinner nonsense.

She chewed over it, when she noticed Feldar walking through the trees towards the house – he wore old work clothes partially caked in dirt, and with him was a tall, elegant woman.

Moth recognized her. Elizabeth Cride.

She was Paul Cride’s sister – his only survive sibling. She dressed plainly and wore her hair simply, which had always been part of her philosophy.

Moth suddenly felt self-conscious of her tin horns and heavy jewelry, but she ignored the feeling to hurry and greet her.

Moth felt a deep fondness for the Cride family, after Paul and Anneli Cride had helped with her sudden marriage offering. She owed them.

“Elizabeth!” said Moth, reaching out her hands in greeting, but was shocked and alarmed when Elizabeth – seeing her – dropped to her knees and bowed low to the ground.

“Lady Korraban,” she exclaimed in return, her beautiful face almost in the dirt.

Feldar glanced at Moth, and that look alone made her want to claw off her ornaments.

“Oh, no, no.” Moth, panicked, bent down to help her stand, repeating anxiously, “No, no that’s – not – not needed, thank you though, so much.”

Recoiling from her touch, Elizabeth refused to meet Moth’s eyes. “Lady Korraban, on behalf of the Cride family, I was tasked by my brother to bring you this offering.”

“An offering?” Moth squeaked.

Elizabeth held out a small wooden chest, head still bowed low though she was mercifully no longer on the ground.

Moth took it hastily, to prevent Elizabeth from bowing any lower – and saw it was full of sunstones.

Stunned, she could quickly see it was dozens – roughly a hundred.

Moth somberly closed the chest, knowing she’d have to accept it, though everything in her wanted to return it to Elizabeth. “Thank you. On behalf of Lord Correb, I will receive it.”

Elizabeth straightened, relieved. Moth worried about how tired she looked – as though she’d been struggling with sleep.

“Are you alright?” Moth asked, and added, “We’re about to have dinner, or, if you’re tired, you could spend the night in my room.”

Elizabeth shook her head, unconsciously touching her tired eyes. “You are so kind milady, but thank you, I’ll be fine.” She hesitated for a while, but then said – her tiredness making her less inhibited – “I just want you to know how…how sorry I am about that offering day. That must’ve been so awful, so horrible, to go down into the ofere. I can’t imagine.”

Moth was touched. She considered her words and answered honestly, “It was frightening, but it had to be done.”

Elizabeth bit her lip – Moth was shocked to see she was trying to hold back tears. “I…wish it didn’t have to happen like that. People agreed too readily to let you be thrown in there – I understand, it was alright in the end, Lord Correb was gracious – but it was little better than human sacrifice. No one was sure you’d be alright, they only hoped – and that was enough for them to agree? Cruel!”

Realizing she was on the verge of tears and rambling, Elizabeth hastily added, “I’m not blaming anyone, I just…marriage is important, it shouldn’t be…” cutting herself off, she bowed again to Moth, turned on her heel, and hurried home.

Once she was gone, Feldar took the box of sunstones from Moth, tilting it around so it caught the light in sparks. “Poor girl has honey on her mind.”

Moth went from bewildered to understanding. “Oh no. Who is it?”

“You met him today. Lt. Saavule.”

“A sentry!”

Feldar’s flat eyes gleamed in amusement. They both walked towards the house, Moth overflowing with sympathy for Elizabeth.

Paul and Anneli hadn’t even let Mrs. Tunhofe into their house after Ursula married Brohm Ede. It was only when Moth showed up desperate on their doorstep, they had relented to let a Hevwed in.

“Paul’s sister wants to marry a sentry?” Moth said out loud to herself, to make the words make sense. “But…she’s so…devoted to Hiren, to Lord Correb. How did it happen?”

Feldar glanced at her. “Is that how you see her?”

“Of course! She’s always been just like Paul.”

“That has more to do with his personality than hers,” said Feldar mildly, going to sit down at the table and taking off his mud-encrusted boots. “I always saw her as someone easily led. She lacks something, she’s a bit hollow.”

In a battle of personality between Paul and Lt. Saavule, Moth wasn’t convinced who would win. No wonder Elizabeth looked tugged to pieces.

Moth sat down as well, glancing down at Feldar’s muddy boots that he tossed towards the front door to clean later, and she asked – the subject of poor lovelorn Elizabeth too much to think about – “You were at the Copekivi’s again today?”

Feldar nodded.

“Did you happen to see Lauri Copekivi? He came here the other day for a poultice.”

Feldar grinned. “He’s furious that it worked, in a complete rage– it also set off Korho. He was so hopeful it was an elaborate scam he sent Lauri to test it, commanding him not to let anyone ‘persuade him’ he was better. As if you can fake being cured of a fogspot.”

Moth twisted her mouth irritably. Copekivis, she thought irritably, a not uncommon sentiment in Hiren. “Well, was he able to resume blacksmithing? I noticed it was his dominant hand.”

“Yes. As near to crying as I’ve ever seen him,” answered Feldar. He saw her grin smugly, and then said over his shoulder, “I like your hair, Sab. It’s the first time I’ve seen it this clean.”

Lt. Grotte didn’t answer but glanced irritably at Moth, who looked uncomfortably out the window.

Feldar said, “Hm.”