Chapter 39: Dragons Nest in its Feathers

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“That’s a party,” Jimbe says as we round the bend.

We see an overseer’s cottage - and I wonder at it, for there are four tall poles out front with banners of four colors attached. The four poles are set far enough apart that the breeze blows harder here or there and in a little different directions so the banners dance different dances.

In the middle is a canopy and I’ve never heard of anyone having a canopy, save for a wedding.

As we draw close, an overseer strides out to meet us and calls to me.

“It’s Bessil! Hi there!” He calls out.

“Rasmus!” I say, for I remember the leader of the overseers who came down to harvest the babes all that time ago.

We shake hands as I’ve seen the overseers do, hand to forearm and I introduce Jimbe, whom Rasmus had heard of but not met.

“There's not many folk who make the skirt their home,” Jimbe says. He’s not counting, I guess, the people of Lake Town.

After we settle the cart on the far side of the cottage, not too close to the privy, Rasmus tells me that he’s not needed in Rocut. He says something about his wife but then says no more.

Around the front of the cottage - across the Path from it, in the open field the poles and the canopy are placed. Lianth is there, talking to an overseer and a townsman. When he sees us, he waves and comes over.

“This is a great day,” he says. “Sabill is betrothed today. Happy turn after the hard dark.”

“Happy in the light,” I say.

“Happy in the light!” Lianth calls out.

The call goes up, across the gathered folk.

“Happy in the light!”

There is food, good victuals, as Liath promises. The overseer has a fire in a fire pit. I wonder where he gets the bricks to burn, since the whole world grew cold and dark, not just our cottage.

But the coals are hot and three women from Eldemere cook fish and wild foul over them. The people of Eldmere wear paisley cloth, the men especially. It is the looms of Eldmere that can make such cloth. It is not magic, for I have seen such looms elsewhere. Perhaps the mystery of running the looms is magic, for there are strange symbols on sticks.

I talk to Rasmus for a while, but mostly about the recent dark.

“It’s a grim matter,” he says. “We lost one in three of the peasants, mostly men. We won’t be able to harvest babes for a long time - not until we have, well, the educated folk in the towns know right. You have to have enough peasant lads to work the fields before we can take again.”

“What circle do they reach the fields?” I ask. When he’s not sure what I mean, I clarify. “What circle do the peasant lads grow to to be able to work the fields?”

He shakes his head. “They don’t grow by circle,” he says. “We measure their ulnas.” He holds my arm up and points. “From here-” the bone at the elbow, “to here-” that bit of bone below the wrist. “Then we count as adults.”

“Oh,” I say.

Jimbe comes up, picking his teeth from some of the good victuals.

“Does the sky seem dusky to you?” he asks us both, but looking to me.

“Is the story true?” I ask. “The one they tell us as little children?”

Both smile ruefully and I’m on the other side of the creek, now, with the adults.

“Sorry, lad,” Jimbe says.

“But you knew,” Rasmus says.

“Yes,” I say. “The sky doesn’t grow dark because of a bird so big that dragons nest in its feathers. It’s a pity. But I will see dragons.”

They look at me and I shut my mouth. Before more is said, the overseer - master of this cottage - calls out.

“There’s a dark coming. Most folk will come to the cottage, but some will go to the granary. We’ve a lantern, so no goblins will get you. Lianth, come here.”

I drift back over toward the cottage and hear a scrap of the overseer talking to the bone merchant.

“I’ll not have her in the cottage with the groom. If he comes down before the dark sets in-”

“I understand,” Lianth says.

The overseer turns back to the people assembled. They have gone back to the fire pit and the blankets laid out with victuals and snacks for a last helping before the dark.

“The bride can prepare and we can witness the betrothal when the light returns. Listen-”

We hear a horn from up the mountain. The groom’s party is arriving.

Submitted: October 28, 2023

Fantasy sprite goblins bones