Plague
kaksi
Takari woke up with a fright. More specifically, to her father yelling. She shot up from her bed and followed the shouts to the kitchen to find her father leaning over the table, clutching his hand.
“An'da?” Takari asked. “An'da? What happened?”
“I scratched myself downstairs in the shop. It is nothing.”
But she took one glance at her father's hand and raised her eyebrows.
“That's a little more than a scratch, I'd say.” Takari said, and she sat her father down at the kitchen table. Ignoring his protests she washed the wound with vinegar and packed it with some Iadleaf before wrapping the palm of his hand with cloth. “You ought to be more careful in the shop, An'da. I won't always be here to bandage you up, and we all know you're far too stubborn to ask anyone else. You'd no sooner bleed out than ask someone for help.”
“You sound just like your mother.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.” Takari smiled and hid the vinegar away.
“I have only a few coins left for food,” Ruehar struggled with his injured hand to get the pouch of money from pocket of his pants, “Ailwin has come down with some sort of illness–”
“Is he alright?”
“Fine, I'm sure, but the bow shipment to Sava Themire will have to be postponed indefinitely,” Ruehar spoke with a sigh, “Which means my pay will be postponed, which means we will have to ration until then.”
“I could take the trip to Sava Themire,” Takari suggested.
Ruehar laughed and said, “You have your mother's sense of humor, too.”
“Really,” Takari said, “How hard could it be?”
“It takes almost a day to get there.”
“Verrona could use the exercise.” Takari thought about her elk and how neglectful she had been towards her lately. She hadn't taken her out for a proper ride in days now. She debated on bringing Verrona one of the apples that sat on the counter but knew her father would scold her, especially after the conversation they had just had.
“You could not go alone,” Ruehar said, “And I don't know anyone who–”
As if on cue Elnaril crossed the threshold into their home, smiling cluelessly at the two. Takari furrowed her brow at the young man – he had only worked for her father for a month and was already walking into their home like he lived here. Nevertheless, she enveloped Elnaril into a hug. He tensed up. This sort of affection was unusual from Takari.
“What is going on?” His eyes shifted down to Takari.
“Oh, Elnaril, it's so devastating…”
“What is?” Elnaril asked.
“Takari,” Ruehar warned, staring his daughter down.
“Ailwin – you know Ailwin, Elnaril, the delivery boy – well, he's come down with an awful bug and now we have no one to deliver the bow shipment to Sava Themire. I would go, but I can't go on a trip like that by myself. An'da and I will be starving on the streets come this time next week…”
Ruehar groaned and bowed his head, holding the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb. Elnaril's breath hitched in his throat as he glanced between the two family members – Ruehar, who was shaking his head and mumbling beneath his breath, and Takari, who had fallen to the kitchen table and was dramatically crying into her arms.
“I could… I could take the trip with Takari, menir, if you would allow it.”
“Elnaril!” Takari stood from the table. “That is an excellent idea. Isn't it, An'da?”
“No. That is a terrible idea.”
“What other option do you have?” Elnaril asked. “If the bows are not delivered to the Tarevoon, you and Takari don't get to eat. I have taken the journey to Sava Themire many times before – my father often took me there when I was young.”
“See,” Takari said, “The road is safe. Elnaril knows it.”
“It isn't the road I'm worried about, Takari. It's the city.”
“We'll be in and out,” Elnaril said, glancing to Takari for confirmation.
“Right,” she nodded, “In and out.”
“An'da?” Takari asked. “An'da? What happened?”
“I scratched myself downstairs in the shop. It is nothing.”
But she took one glance at her father's hand and raised her eyebrows.
“That's a little more than a scratch, I'd say.” Takari said, and she sat her father down at the kitchen table. Ignoring his protests she washed the wound with vinegar and packed it with some Iadleaf before wrapping the palm of his hand with cloth. “You ought to be more careful in the shop, An'da. I won't always be here to bandage you up, and we all know you're far too stubborn to ask anyone else. You'd no sooner bleed out than ask someone for help.”
“You sound just like your mother.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.” Takari smiled and hid the vinegar away.
“I have only a few coins left for food,” Ruehar struggled with his injured hand to get the pouch of money from pocket of his pants, “Ailwin has come down with some sort of illness–”
“Is he alright?”
“Fine, I'm sure, but the bow shipment to Sava Themire will have to be postponed indefinitely,” Ruehar spoke with a sigh, “Which means my pay will be postponed, which means we will have to ration until then.”
“I could take the trip to Sava Themire,” Takari suggested.
Ruehar laughed and said, “You have your mother's sense of humor, too.”
“Really,” Takari said, “How hard could it be?”
“It takes almost a day to get there.”
“Verrona could use the exercise.” Takari thought about her elk and how neglectful she had been towards her lately. She hadn't taken her out for a proper ride in days now. She debated on bringing Verrona one of the apples that sat on the counter but knew her father would scold her, especially after the conversation they had just had.
“You could not go alone,” Ruehar said, “And I don't know anyone who–”
As if on cue Elnaril crossed the threshold into their home, smiling cluelessly at the two. Takari furrowed her brow at the young man – he had only worked for her father for a month and was already walking into their home like he lived here. Nevertheless, she enveloped Elnaril into a hug. He tensed up. This sort of affection was unusual from Takari.
“What is going on?” His eyes shifted down to Takari.
“Oh, Elnaril, it's so devastating…”
“What is?” Elnaril asked.
“Takari,” Ruehar warned, staring his daughter down.
“Ailwin – you know Ailwin, Elnaril, the delivery boy – well, he's come down with an awful bug and now we have no one to deliver the bow shipment to Sava Themire. I would go, but I can't go on a trip like that by myself. An'da and I will be starving on the streets come this time next week…”
Ruehar groaned and bowed his head, holding the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb. Elnaril's breath hitched in his throat as he glanced between the two family members – Ruehar, who was shaking his head and mumbling beneath his breath, and Takari, who had fallen to the kitchen table and was dramatically crying into her arms.
“I could… I could take the trip with Takari, menir, if you would allow it.”
“Elnaril!” Takari stood from the table. “That is an excellent idea. Isn't it, An'da?”
“No. That is a terrible idea.”
“What other option do you have?” Elnaril asked. “If the bows are not delivered to the Tarevoon, you and Takari don't get to eat. I have taken the journey to Sava Themire many times before – my father often took me there when I was young.”
“See,” Takari said, “The road is safe. Elnaril knows it.”
“It isn't the road I'm worried about, Takari. It's the city.”
“We'll be in and out,” Elnaril said, glancing to Takari for confirmation.
“Right,” she nodded, “In and out.”