A Girl of White Winter

by Barb Hendee

  Her brow lifted. “Inconstant?”

  “Fickle.”

  She nodded. “That he is. So long as you know.”

  Voices carried on the air as everyone began gathering around the campfire. We passed around mugs of water, and then Jade announced the potatoes were soft enough to eat. She dished bowls, and I helped to serve. Tannen and Badger both nodded politely to me, and I was glad for their presence. But this also gave me the opportunity to take account of the entire group, which consisted of six women, three children, and ten men—counting Raven. I knew some of the men and women were couples, but as of yet, I hadn’t quite entirely placed who went with whom.

  It did seem strange that they all appeared to live practically on top of each other, and in a moment when everyone was otherwise engaged, I asked Jemma to help me make a few connections. She told me that Badger and Tannen were Jade’s older brothers, neither were married, and they shared a wagon with Jade and Sean.

  When the meal was nearly over, Raven left for a few moments and returned carrying a small cask and a wheel of yellow cheese. This met with delight from the group.

  “Cheese!” Jemma exclaimed. “Did you bring that back from the raids?”

  The cask contained ale, which I declined, but I did accept a slice of cheese—and wondered if he’d taken this from the Capellos’ stores.

  Before long, several of the men took out violins and began to play. I sat near Jemma to listen. The first song was lively, but the second was possessed of a sad sound, with haunting strains. It made me think of my lady and how lonely she must be. But then I looked across the camp and saw Jade with her son, Sean. He was holding his stomach in pain. Quickly, I rose and went to them.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She was so concerned that her previous dislike of me had vanished. “I don’t know. It’s happened before, but only a few times.”

  Kneeling, I asked Sean. “Show me where it hurts.”

  Nearly gasping from pain, he put his hands to his lower abdomen. I had seen this before and suspected what might be wrong. Though I’d noticed many goats around the settlement, I’d not seen a single cow.

  “I believe the cheese he ate tonight was made from cow’s milk,” I said. “Has he ever had this happen to him after drinking milk from a cow or eating butter?”

  She blinked, as if thinking, and then nodded. “Yes…yes every time.” Her expression shifted back to concern. “But it lasts for hours, and this time seems worse.”

  Lord Jean had suffered from this same affliction. It could be managed by simply having him avoid any foods containing milk from cows, but occasionally, he would take a foolish risk and eat something such as a dessert with cream in it. When this happened, my lady needed to help him.

  “There’s a tea made from herbs that will ease the pain,” I told Jade.

  The boy groaned as stomach cramped, and Jade asked, “Which herbs?”

  “Fennel and thornapple.”

  Several of the women had gathered around us.

  “Oh,” Jemma said. “Poor Sean. Is it his stomach again?”

  “Can you find some fennel and thornapple?” Jade asked her. “Quickly.”

  Jemma and Lizbeth both hurried into the trees and thankfully, they were not gone long. When they returned, I was relieved to see they’d brought the herbs I recognized—the ones my lady had used for Lord Jean.

  I ground up the herbs in a bowl. After this, I boiled water over the fire and ladled it over the mixture. Then I used a cloth to strain the liquid into a mug. By now, Sean was in so much pain, he didn’t object as I drew him against me. Everyone was watching, but I shut them from my mind.

  “Sip a small mouthful of this,” I told him, holding the mug of warm liquid to his mouth. “It’s bitter, but I promise it will help. Take small sips only when I tell you.”

  He took a sip and made a face. A moment later, I had him take another sip. This was a slow process, and he needed a distraction, something to keep his mind occupied. Whenever my lady was sad or needed distraction, I told her a story.

  “There was once a village beset by wolves,” I said in Sean’s ear. “Not ordinary wolves, but large, great wolves the size of ponies. They killed sheep and carried off children, and the women of the village begged their men to hunt the beasts down, but the men were afraid.” Sean was listening to me, and I paused in the tale, “Take another sip.”

  He sipped and swallowed.

  “There was a boy, just about your age, who was not afraid. And in the night, he slipped from the village to hunt down the wolves.”

  “By himself?” Sean asked.

  “Yes, all by himself. Take another sip.”

  I went on to describe the hunt and how the boy once barely escaped the wolves with his life, but in the end, he played a trick and set up heavily-leaved bushes at the edge of a cliff and lured the wolves to chase him, and then he dove under the brush at the last moment, and as they jumped it, seeking to find him on the other side, they all went over the cliff, falling hundreds of feet below to their deaths.

  In between parts of the story, I had Sean sip more of the herb tea until it was gone and the story ended.

  When I looked up, Jade was watching me.

  “How do you feel?” she asked her son.

  Sean touched his stomach. “It’s getting better.”

  Then I realized everyone, including Raven, was watching me. I had more information for Jade, but it was indelicate, and I wasn’t sure how to word it.

  “In the night…at some point, he will probably need to relieve his bowels,” I said quietly.

  “Relieve his bowels?” she repeated.

  “I think she means he’ll need to shit,” Jemma offered.

  With a jolt at her crude use of words, I dropped my eyes to the ground, but the group laughed, and their mood seemed improved after the worry over Sean.

  “It’s time for sleep,” Raven said. “We have an early start.”

  Jade drew in a sharp breath as she looked at him. “Sleep well on top of the roof.”

  He ignored her and walked away.

  She came over to take Sean from me. “Thank you,” she said stiffly, and then she shook her head once and touched my hand. “I mean it. Thank you.”

  I did not understand her well, but she loved her son. That much was clear. With a nod, I rose and followed Raven to our wagon. He opened the back door for me.

  “There are plenty of blankets in there,” he said. “But you’ll need to get a few for me.”

  The night was cold now that we’d left the campfire.

  “Are you really going to sleep on the roof?” I asked. Surely, some other arrangement could be made.

  He flashed a grin. “Unless you’re inviting me to sleep inside?”

  Startled, I stepped away, and his expression changed to alarm. “Oh, Kara, I was joking,” he rushed to say. “Don’t mind me. I just need to watch myself when I’m talking to you.”

  Leaning down, he laced his hands. I stepped into his hands and then stepped up into the back. After retrieving two blankets, I handed them down to him.

  “Good night, Raven,” I said.

  His dark eyes scanned my face. “Good night.”

  Closing the door, I was relieved to be alone.

  In spite of the fact that the wagon contained no source of heat, I couldn’t resist slipping out of my dress—as I had been wearing it for three days—and crawling between the blankets in nothing but my shift.

  Raven’s blankets were warm, and the bed was surprisingly soft. I gave one more thought to his lack of comfort up on the roof, and then I fell asleep.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, I was awakened by the sounds of voices outside. Light came in through the windows, and I remembered that I had yet to go through the belongings in my small trunk.

  Kneeling
on the floor, I opened it.

  Inside, I found a white silk gown, an ice blue silk gown, and two muslin day-dresses…one white and one of ice blue. None of them would offer much warmth, and the colors would show every speck of dirt or mud. I also found clean slippers, stockings, undergarments, and a fresh shift. My silver hairbrush and mirror lay at the bottom, along with a few silver hair clips that had been gifts from my lady.

  With so few choices, I decided upon the blue muslin dress, very similar to the one I’d taken off last night, except this one was clean. I brushed out my hair until it hung in silver-blond waves. The impractical slippers I’d been wearing were soiled, but they were still wearable, so I decided not to change them out yet.

  I’d never purchased clothing for myself and wondered how one might go about buying a wool gown and pair of boots. Then again…where would I obtain any money?

  Someone banged on the door.

  “You up?” Raven called. “Come get breakfast. We need to get on the road.”

  Quickly, I went over and opened the door.

  He took in the sight of me and then turned away. “Get something to eat, and meet me on the bench. Don’t forget your cloak.” His tone was tense, and I wondered why.

  I climbed down from the back of the wagon on my own.

  Jemma and Jade were crouched near a morning campfire. Today, they had set up small benches, one on each side of the fire, and laid a sheet of metal on top of them—across the fire. They were frying up what appeared to be oatcakes. The scent made my mouth water, but I felt guilty for not having helped with breakfast.

  Jemma didn’t seem to notice my lack of help and smiled at me. “Come have a cake. I made tea as well.”

  Tea.

  I hadn’t had tea since leaving the de Marco manor. Forgetting everything but my own comfort, I accepted a mug of tea and a warm oatcake.

  Jade glanced at my clean dress. “Do you have anything sensible to wear?” The words came out sounding like a growl.

  “No,” I answered honestly.

  Shaking her head, she walked away. I wanted to sigh but finished my breakfast in a few bites. “I’ll help clean up,” I told Jemma.

  She nodded. “I think everyone’s eaten. Grab that bucket, and we’ll put out the fire.”

  Soon, everything was packed and stowed and the horses were harnessed. After fetching my cloak, I climbed up onto the bench beside Raven. Without a word to me, he clucked to our horses and led the way back onto the road. Unlike yesterday, the silence that followed was not comfortable.

  Finally, I couldn’t help asking, “What’s wrong?”

  “Mmmmmm?” he turned his head toward me. “Oh, nothing. Jade’s in a mood this morning, and she has a sharp tongue.”

  “Was she unkind to you?”

  To my surprise, he laughed. “Unkind? You have the strangest way of speaking. Yes, she was…unkind.” Then he shrugged. “But that’s just her way. She has a good heart.”

  After this, he seemed to feel better and pointed out a doe with a fawn hiding in the brush as we passed them.

  We traveled all day, stopping only briefly for a light lunch. While on the road, Raven and I didn’t speak much, but we didn’t need to. I was comfortable beside him, and he seemed happy enough to drive along, look at the sights flowing past us, and occasionally speak of small things. My fear of the open sky did not trouble me so much today.

  In the late afternoon, he said, “We’ll be staying two nights in Fayette and putting on two shows tomorrow, one in the late morning and one in the late afternoon.”

  “What do you mean by ‘shows’?” I asked. “You keep using that word, but I’m not sure what you mean.”

  He’d ceased to find my ignorance about nearly everything in his world as a curiosity—and he’d begun to accept it.

  “You’ll see soon enough,” he said, “but setting up camp tonight will take longer, as we’ll need to get costumes and the curtain and parts of the stage down from atop the wagons.”

  Helplessly, I nodded, not understanding anything to which he referred.

  We arrived at our destination before dusk.

  “Pull up the hood of your cloak,” Raven said. “Cover your hair and as much of your face as you can.”

  I did as he asked as we rolled into a town that spread out as far as I could see, with hundreds of dwellings and shops and cross streets. There were people and horses everywhere. As I’d never even visited a village, the sheer size of the place and number of people was daunting.

  “It’s so big,” I whispered.

  “Fayette? This is nothing. We’re only staying a day. Wait until we get to Narbonnè. That’s a city. We’ll stay two weeks.”

  “A city?”

  But he must not have heard me as we rolled through a crowded open-air market and a number of townspeople waved a greeting. It seemed our small caravan was expected. Raven waved back.

  As always, he appeared to know exactly where he was going and turned us left down a side street until we came to a stable with a large cleared area on its west side—with enough room for all the wagons.

  “We’re always allowed to set up camp here,” he offered. “I have an arrangement with the town constable. We don’t go anywhere we aren’t welcome.”

  “Why would you not be welcome?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Instead, he pulled in first, closest to the stable, and Jade—who was driving a wagon—pulled up beside him. One after another, all six wagons lined up neatly with enough room to walk in between.

  After that, everyone burst into a flurry of activity.

  Raven had not been wrong about the evening’s setup.

  First, the horses were unharnessed, fed, and watered. Then small sets of steps were brought down from the tops of the wagons and attached to the backs, making entries and exits between the ground and the doors much easier. Chests were passed down and carried inside various wagons.

  With no idea of what to do, I sought out Jemma.

  “Can I help with dinner?” I asked.

  “Of course. I stowed some spare branches in our wagon for firewood. Come help me carry it.”

  I appreciated her easy manner and was relieved for something to do. She led me to a bright red wagon on the end.

  “I travel with Ash and Lizbeth,” she said. “So does Marcel. Ash is my uncle, and Marcel is my man. Our wagon’s large, and we’ve managed to curtain spaces off for some privacy. It works.”

  I hadn’t known Marcel’s name, but I’d seen her with a young man and had wondered if he was her husband—though that was still unclear. At least I was picking up more names.

  Climbing up into the wagon, Jemma began handing down narrow branches.

  “My parents prefer to stay at the settlement,” she went on, “but I like to be part of the show.”

  The show.

  My ignorance of exactly what this group did for a living was beginning to concern me, but now that I had Jemma to myself, I wanted to ask a more pressing question.

  “Jemma, who is Sean’s father?”

  She paused in her work. “Oh, that was big Sean. We lost him four years ago in a raid gone wrong.”

  Raven’s words echoed.

  We lost three men that night.

  “Big Sean was her husband?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Her eyes drifted. “My mother says that when Jade and Raven were younger, everyone thought they would marry, but Raven just…he’s not the marrying kind. And then one summer, Jade married Big Sean. After he was killed, she and Raven took up again, but you see how he is.”

  I did not. Not really. I understood only snippets of what she was telling me.

  “Lately, though,” she went on, “he’s stopped taking up with tavern girls, and he’s only been with Jade. And he’s good with young Sean. We were all starting to think this autumn he m
ight finally ask her to hand-fast with him. Jade was beginning to think so too.”

  “Hand-fast means marriage?”

  She nodded again, and her full attention returned to me. “But I’m not surprised you’ve caught his eye.”

  My body stiffened. “I assure you I have not caught his eye.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  Turning, I walked away, carrying my armload of firewood.

  * * * *

  Once the camp was set up for a slightly longer stay, the evening followed a similar pattern to the night before, and I was already beginning to understand some of the rhythms these people followed.

  Tonight, I didn’t need to ask what I could do and helped Lizbeth and Teresa with dinner, chopping vegetables. Raven killed one of the chickens, and Jade plucked it. We boiled it until the meat fell from the bone, and then used it to make a chicken stew.

  It was good, but I thought it would have been better with some oregano and parsley.

  Jade did not speak to me once.

  After dinner, I helped to clean up and then retired to the wagon for solitude.

  My mind kept turning over the things Jemma had told me about Jade and Raven in their youth…and then Jade marrying someone else…and then him being killed and the connection between her and Raven renewing itself.

  I wished I could assure her that he had no interest in me and was only helping me out of pity. But I sensed her emotions in this matter were strong and complicated, and acknowledging the situation might only make things worse. Besides, I had other worries. I needed to find a way to send a message to my lady, and that was going to take money.

  How would I be able to earn money?

  As I fell asleep that night, I thought on “the show” that would take place tomorrow and wondered what this meant.

  * * * *

  The next morning, the entire camp again burst into activity.

  While I helped clean up from breakfast, Raven was in and out of his own wagon several times, but I didn’t pay attention to what he was doing. I understood that we shared the space, and so far, he’d left it mainly to me.

  But all around me, trunks and chests were dragged out into the open, and brightly colored clothing with sashes and polished boots emerged. I did notice a few of the chests were in poor condition and remembered Tannen’s regret at leaving the Capellos’ fine trunks behind.