Eramane (3 page)

“Yeah, but I wanted one,” he says plainly. I understand his desire for the wooden toy; I once yearned for one as well, and my brother, Samiah, made sure he beat everyone in the race so that I got it, a mountain cat.

“Well, you know what, Olli?”

He looks at me through dull gray eyes. “What, Eramane?” he mumbles.

“I think that you are a fantastic competitor! You deserve a prize just as much as the rest of them. Come on,” I say, “let us fetch you one.” His eyes light up, and a crooked smile brightens his face, even through the dirt smudges. We stand from the grass and make our way to the prize basket. “Good morning, sir,” I say to the toothless old man sitting on a stump and tending to the prize basket. “Did you make these?” I ask.

“Yes, m’lady. With these steady hands,” he laughs and holds out his trembling fingers.

“They are lovely,” I say reaching for a toy. “May I?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Are they for sale?” I know they are not; they are just prizes for the children. But asking has excited the old man.

“You want to purchase one of these?” His laugh sounds like a whistle my brother taught me to make. It requires you to pull your lips in over your teeth, stick two fingers in the sides of your mouth, and blow. It is a sharp noise and can be soft or loud, depending on how hard you blow. The old man’s whistles are sharp, probably because he has no teeth.

“Will you accept this for payment?” I hold out one coin stamped with a bird holding a leaf in its claw. It is more than enough for the toy. I could purchase every toy in the basket and much more with the coin.

“No, m’lady. That is too much. I cannot accept it. Please, just take one,” he says.

“I insist,” I say, placing the coin on top of a mountain cat that still remains in the basket. “Thank you. Good day, sir,” I say and hand the toy to Olli, watching his eyes widen. I hear faint murmurs of disbelief from the old man as Olli and I walk away.

“A mountain cat!” Olli shouts. “Thanks, Eramane.”

“Now that you have your wooden toy, how about we get something to eat? If that tummy of yours shrinks any more, your trousers might slide right off.” We walk up the middle road of Eludwid, where all of its merchants are located. I want to take Olli to the breadmaker’s. A fresh, hot honey loaf with some citrus water would be a delicious snack, and a filling one.

My belly is full; Olli’s belly was bulging when I sent him off to fetch his mother. “Give this to your mother,” I say handing Olli a satchel of bread loaves and another of cured meats. “And give these to her as well.” I drop two coins in his hand and fold his fingers around them. I bend down to look him in the eyes. “You tell your mother to fetch me if the family needs food … anything. I will always be here to help you and yours, you understand?” Olli nods his head and gives me an enormous smile; he darts off and is out of sight in an instant. If he had shown that much speed in the race, he would have won.

I lean against a tall tree that throws a large shadow over the field where the games are held. The festival seemed more elaborate when I was younger. I remember the town’s center would be filled with so many people that the field where I stand now would be speckled with temporary shelters for our neighboring visitors. Year by year, the speckled field has displayed fewer and fewer shelters. My parents say that the festival dwindles because more people are traveling to other lands in search for more rich soils, and that eventually the festival may not take place at all.

I am watching the townspeople mingle when my mother approaches me with a mischievous look.

“My dear Eramane,” she gushes as she drapes herself around me, her eyes wild with excitement. “What are you doing over here by yourself, my darling?” My mother’s smile is playful, and I immediately sense that she is up to something. “Do you know that Lebis is over by the blacksmith’s back door, completely exhausted, waiting for that old goat Whiney to relieve him of his duties? You should go take him something refreshing to drink, Eramane.”

“Oh, Mother,” I exclaim. “You know as well as anyone not to disturb someone when they are working.” I try desperately to avoid the conversation. Lebis always works very hard. Most of the time he is outside at the anvil, hammering away, and I cannot help but look at him every time our carriage passes Whiney’s shop. The old man who owns the shop is always complaining about his aches and pains, so when we were children we nicknamed him Whiney. Even my mother took up calling him Whiney, because, she said, it suits him perfectly. His true name is Percival, but I have not heard anyone call him that in years. My mother noticed that Lebis caught my eye several weeks ago, and she has been poking her nose in ever since.
Why did she have to see me gawking at him?

“Well, your father is worried that you will never marry, and we will be the family with the poor, pathetic, unwed daughter,” my mother blurts out, and we both burst into laughter. She hugs me tightly. “Stay with me forever, my dearest Eramane. I do not mind,” she whispers in my ear while she fluffs the back of my hair. She pulls me in, kisses my forehead, and walks away to fetch my father. Again I am alone, and now I am thinking about Lebis.

My brother, Samiah, is nuzzling his wife, Mira, on the breadmaker’s stoop. They are watching the small parade between moments of laughter and kisses. Mira’s long lavender dress makes her look like a flower, recently bloomed. Her golden hair is braided in a knot on top of her head. I suppose Samiah is saying playful things to her, because she keeps blushing and giggling. Mira’s face flushes each time he whispers something in her ear. They were married last spring and have been trying for children, but Mira has yet to be with child. Several months ago, she and Samiah visited the FateSeer. She told them that a child will come and to be patient. My parents went to the FateSeer once. After they had Samiah, they were blessed with a second child. But at three months of pregnancy, my mother lost the baby. When she found out that she was pregnant with me, she and my father sought the knowledge of the FateSeer. The woman told them that they would have a girl, and that she would have a great gift. I always laugh when I think about that prophecy; I have no special gifts, unless one considers my embroidery. I once made a blanket with a scene of all the territories on it. I gave it to Lord Emach Danius as a birth celebration gift. My birth celebration recently passed; I turned seventeen. My parents gave me a beautiful dress, and Mira gave me a beautiful glove set.

Mira is a wonderful lady. She and I spend a lot of time together, especially when Samiah is off with the Riders. She told me how she cried when Samiah proposed, that she never thought he would ask so soon. “In just four days, Eramane!” she said. She told me how he was nervous and how his sandy blond curls jiggled while he looked up at her, how the scar on the palm of his hand made it even easier to say yes. Samiah loves Mira; he has since the day her family moved to town six winters ago.

I walk up the breadmaker’s steps to greet my brother and Mira. It makes me happy to see him enjoying himself. Much of the time he is serious and focused on his duty, always discussing ways to keep peace in our lands. Samiah commands Lord Danius’s men, a privilege never held by someone so young. Before he joined with our uncle Karmick, he trained with swordsmen from all over. He seemed to know his destiny and was simply preparing himself, honing his skills. But when we were children, he would chase me around with dead insects or small, unfortunate animals, laughing all the while. I have many great memories of us as children.

“Eramane!” Mira exclaims and wiggles out of Samiah’s gentle embrace. She rushes to me and hugs me tight. We trade a kiss on the cheek too.

“Hello, Mira. Are you two enjoying the festival?” I ask.

“Oh, is it not such a beautiful day to celebrate!” Mira looks back to Samiah, who smiles at her excitement. He extends his arms, inviting me in for an embrace. I hug him tightly; it is always an enormous relief when he returns home safe. After a quick, heartfelt hug, he pushes me away.

“Here, I had this made for you,” he says, holding out a hairpin in the shape of a bird’s wing. “I am sorry I was not here for your birth celebration.”

“It is beautiful,” I say, looking at the silver hairpin. I place it in my hair, above my ear. “How does it look?”

“Beautiful,” Mira says, smiling at her husband. “It looks perfect there, Eramane.” I hug Samiah again and thank him for the hairpin.

“Well, I am going to make my way back home. I need to gather some things before coming to stay with you two tomorrow,” I say, walking back down the steps.

“Tell our parents to be safe,” Samiah says.

“I will. See you tomorrow afternoon.” I wave goodbye and follow the road leading to our home.

As I walk, I think about the day and all the people happily celebrating with their families. Yet in the midst of all this excitement, I cannot move beyond my boredom. I feel that there is something more out there, beyond Eludwid. Something exciting awaits me—something meaningful. I want to ride along with my brother to those distant lands I have only heard about. I want to meet a sorcerer. Nahmas met a fire summoner for the first time when he was a boy. I heard him telling my brother about it. Nahmas said that when he was a child, he and his two brothers were orphaned by an attack on their homeland. The young boys wandered through the forest for several days before stumbling upon a small army of men, not knowing they were the same men who had attacked their home. These men caught the boys and were going to execute them without hesitation. But before they could raise a sword to the boys’ necks, a man holding fire in his hands appeared and set every man in that army ablaze. Quicker than the brothers could blink, the men were defeated and they were saved. I asked Samiah if there was truth in Nahmas’s story, and he said, “He is a trusted Rider, Eramane, and he is not the only man with this story. His two brothers will tell it to you the same.”

I am fortunate, though, to be seventeen and unwed. I have never even been courted by anyone. I have my family to thank for this. They have declined four proposals. They do not believe that a girl should marry someone she does not know and cannot possibly love. My mother was promised to a man much older than herself. She would cry herself to sleep at night; she would beg her father to undo the engagement. She was in love with another man, my father. Three days before the wedding, her soon-to-be husband fell ill. He did not recover, so my grandfather allowed her to marry her true love. She has told me this story many times.

As I walk by Whiney’s, I hear the familiar banging that echoes from the anvil. I stop and watch as Lebis strikes a piece of iron. He is handsome, but I would never admit that to my mother. While I stand here, thoughts bouncing around in my head, I notice Lily making her way over to Lebis. She twirls her finger in her black, curly hair. She says something, getting Lebis’s attention, but I cannot hear her words. He looks up, and a slight smile smoothes his rugged appearance. He says something back. What are they saying? I walk a bit closer, trying to remain unnoticed. Still I cannot hear them. Lily speaks again—her manner changes. Is she upset? It seems as though she is. Lily walks off hastily; Lebis turned her away! I cannot hide the smirk on my face. I remove it at once when I notice that Lebis is looking directly at me. He smiles and then returns to his work. Did he know I was here the entire time?
Humiliated
is not a strong enough word to describe how I feel. I turn and walk away, and then the smirk returns. My mother knows me too well. Of course I like Lebis; why would I not? He is handsome, he works hard, and, most importantly, he sent Lily away. But how am I ever going to get to know him if I am too nervous to speak to him? I have had a few chances to speak with him, but all I can summon is a whisper of a “hello,” and that is it. What should I do? Maybe I should walk over to Lebis and give him a big kiss in front of everyone in the village. That would really be entertaining. To see the look on everyone’s face, especially my brother’s! No—I decide to keep walking.

It is evening now, and I should have been home long ago, but the festival kept my attention today. Each time I would pass a merchant I could not help but stop by and examine their goods. Last year I found a beautiful ring that I bought for my mother. She wears it every day. Not long ago, she thought that she lost it, and she cried for an entire morning. My father saved the day when he walked in the house with the ring in his hand. “What was your ring doing in Lady’s stall?” My mother had taken it off before brushing Lady the previous evening. We have caretakers to tend the house and animals, but my mother always likes to brush her horse. It is a pleasure I enjoy too.

The streets have been abandoned after the excitement of the day. They emit a feeling of peace as I walk along them. I like being in town when it is quiet. It gives me a chance to appreciate its beauty, without interruption by others. Most times, before Samiah was married, girls would rush up to me to inquire about him. Other folks want to know when my brother will be taking their sons, fathers, or husbands from them and into battle. I always give them a caring smile and a vague reply of “any day now” if the Riders are expected to return, and “soon” if they are expected to depart.