Eramane (5 page)

“I am sooo sorry, Eramane. Let me help you,” he says in a drunken slur. He trips and falls to the floor.

“Are you trying to make me hate you, Samiah?” I ask, sitting to take a look at my foot. The cut is in the middle of my arch, wide and deep. I temporarily wrap it with a drying towel for dishes.

Samiah lifts his heavy head. “I am your mother,” he slurs. Then sadly, as if he were about to weep, he asks, “You hate me? Why?” I shake my head at him. I want to laugh, but my foot is throbbing; it quickly takes the humor out of the situation. Our parents have been disturbed by the commotion, and now they are tiptoeing around broken glass.

“Randall, fetch me the sweeper, please,” Mother asks, not moving through the broken glass any farther.

“I am your mother,” I mock him quietly, managing a laugh anyway. Mother sweeps up the glass, and Father and I help Samiah to the nearest bed. I grab a blanket from the linen chest and cover him. “See you in the morning …
son
,” I say, hobbling to the kitchen to properly flush out my wound. My mother sits to help me wrap it. Father went outside to stable Samiah’s horse.

“Lebis stopped in to check the carriage wheels.” I squint at my mother a little.

“That is wonderful. How are the wheels?” she asks, knowing that they are perfectly fine.

“They all need to be replaced,” I try to say seriously, but I cannot contain my laughter. The wrap is drenched with blood and surprises my mother once she uncovers the cut.

“Eramane, this is a bad cut. We are going to have to stitch it.” I cringe.

“Do not say that, Mother. Are you sure?” I loathe the idea.

“Yes, dear. I am sorry, but I must.” She rises and goes to fetch proper equipment for the task.

I sit back and grip the sides of the chair. This is going to be painful. My mother douses the wound with something that smells strongly and burns so horribly that I almost cry. I clench my teeth through the entire process, and when it is finally done, my jaws hurt. “There you go, my darling,” she says, tying up the end of a clean strip of cloth.

“So?” Mother returns to our conversation concerning Lebis’s visit.

“So, we are going to the river tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, that is fantastic, Eramane!”

“Mother, do not be so enthusiastic. It is only our first meeting. He has not asked me to marry him.” I am slightly annoyed by her excitement.

“I am just so happy that you are actually spending time with such a nice boy. Your father and I think the world of him.” Her tone changes and she becomes more serious. “You know that your father and I have turned down more than a few suitors for you. Some of them you have no knowledge of, because I simply could not bear telling you that such rascals thought they deserved you. Honestly, it would have been a waste of breath. But, Eramane, you must know that Lebis is different from most of the other suitors around here. He is a charming young man, and he is taken by you. A man like that will honor you; he will protect you; he will die for you. Do you understand, child?”

She is right. Lebis is unlike other suitors that have asked for my hand. And now that I think about it, he has put off every girl that has made an advance for his affections. He was waiting for me.

“I know, Mother. He is a special fellow.”

“And he is handsome,” she adds.

“Yes, and he is handsome,” I agree, and for the first time I see that my mother was not meddling at all; she was cleverly bringing together two people who were fated for each other, two people who could sustain a happy and loving life together. We are interrupted by my father. He enters and walks over to the wash basin, dipping his hands into the water.

“Just as I expected, Samiah’s horse was standing next to the porch, reins hanging straight down to the ground.” His subtle chuckle cannot hide the fact that he is tired and mildly annoyed that he was wakened in the middle of the night to stable a horse.

It is almost twilight, and I have just said my good-byes to my parents. “Be safe today, Eramane,” my father says from atop the carriage.

“I will, Father.”

“Flush and dress your wound each day. You do not want infection to set in,” my mother orders. And with a snap of the reins, the horses lunge and the carriage pulls away. I go back inside and curl up in my father’s chair, and sleep comes for me again. I welcome it and hope that I can rest until midmorning without being disturbed.

CHAPTER THREE

Afternoon with Lebis

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
A frantic banging on the front door wakes me. Not yet moving from the chair, I look outside and see that not much time has passed since I went to sleep. The banging comes again. This time the door is answered. Oriana is already here, filling the wash basins and preparing a morning meal for Samiah and myself.

“Hello, m’lady. May I help you?” I hear her ask.

“Is my husband here?” It is Mira and she sounds worried.

“Mira!” I shout so that she can hear me. Oriana steps back and invites Mira in; she leads Mira to me.

“Eramane, is Samiah here? I left the mountaintop early last night; he stayed back. When I woke this morning, I could not find him. I came here first.”

“No need to worry; he is here. He came here last night, singing about you; then he knocked over a vase, and it shattered on the floor.” I look at my wrapped foot, and Mira follows my gaze.

“You cut yourself,” she gasps. “Let me look at it.”

“It is fine,” I say. “I have to clean it again before we leave for your place.”

“Well, Samiah will probably sleep for a while longer. Let me clean it for you, and then we can go pick some of those beautiful redtails. They will look lovely on my table.” Mira insists and Oriana fetches a wash basin and a cloth.

Mira carefully unwraps my bandaged foot, making sure that she does not pull too fast. There is a little blood, but much less than we both expected. “Your mother did a wonderful job stitching this, Eramane.” Mira’s expression turns from being impressed to puzzlement. “For this wound to have needed stitches, it is healing remarkably fast,” she says, motioning for me to examine it myself. I bring my foot up so that I can get a better look, and just as Mira said, it is healing quickly. I am less surprised than Mira; I have always healed quickly.

“I will just wipe the dried blood and wrap it back up. Then we can be on our way,” Mira says.

The morning has been pleasant; I always enjoy Mira’s company. I told her about my date with Lebis; she reacted as I expected: “Oh, Eramane, that is so exciting!” We have spent much of the early morning picking wildflowers in the field behind my family’s home. Bright red blossoms cover the meadow. When we gather enough to comfortably carry, we take them back to the cottage to wrap them in damp linens so that they make the trip to Mira’s.

My mother usually accompanies me on these flower-picking adventures. Our house is always adorned with freshly picked flowers. Gathering wildflowers is my favorite morning activity when the fields are in bloom, but soon they will all wither. Winter approaches and after the first frost the meadow will be barren until spring.

Mira is inside waking Samiah. We need to start making our way to their home if I am to have time for the tub. I am at the stables saddling Lady, while Linnox, the middle of the boys who help tend our farm, saddles Samiah’s steed. I want to ride Lady back to the house, so I lead her out of the stable and hop on top of her, a task made only slightly more difficult by my injured foot. A gentle breeze blows through my hair and then ceases. I take a breath to inhale the freshness of the beautiful morning. I want so desperately for this day to be a wonderful memory I can hold on to. Will it be memorable? Or will I find that I am disappointed with the handsome blacksmith? I long for excitement. Samiah has such excitement in his life. He travels to many different lands, just as our father. And although Lebis works in town, he is has traveled to far-off places. My mother told me that Lebis used to travel with his father the way Samiah would travel with ours. Lebis has seen much of the world beyond the small village of Eludwid. Maybe one day he will take me to visit another land.

The wind picks up again and brings me back to the day. I have been in the fields all morning; if I do not bathe, I will end up smelling like horse food to Lebis. As I ride Lady up to the porch, I wonder how many more times I will ride her before she is too old for that. She borders fifteen and horses do not usually make it much further if you continue to push them. Mother will get a new horse soon, and Lady can spend her final years leisurely strolling along in the pasture.

After we arrive at Samiah and Mira’s, I am more than ready for a bath. Mira asks for the tub to be filled, and I unpack while I wait. Their caretaker, a middle-aged woman named Brenna, brings me linens, soaps, and oils, and places them at the edge of the tub. I undress and unwrap my foot. When I reach the tub, I submerge myself, slowly and steadily, not wanting to put pressure on my foot. The water is the perfect temperature between warm and hot. The steam surrounds me, and I lie back and enjoy the silence. Placing a cloth over my face, I lean my head back on the warm stone and empty my thoughts. I welcome the silence; Samiah and Mira are at the other end of the house, so nothing will intrude on my relaxing moment. I plunge beneath the water to wet my hair, and the water fills my ears with its warmth. I stay under that water for a few moments, listening to my heartbeat, and letting my body float in the large tub. Then I hear someone speak my name; it is a deep voice, a man’s voice. Startled, I sit up to see who is calling me. I wipe my face and look around the room. No one is there. I know that I am not mistaken. Someone spoke my name, and it was not Samiah; it is not his voice I heard.

A large mirror leans against the wall in front of me. I stare at my reflection for a moment, not knowing what to think. Had I been in the sun too long this morning? “Eramane,” the voice calls to me again. This time I see him, or what seems like a reflection of him. I search the room again, but no one is there until I look back into the mirror, and there he is. Our eyes meet, and at once, I have no desire to ever cease staring into his mesmerizing, amber eyes. He speaks again: “I will come for you tonight.” His words settle in my head, and I become numb. It is as if I the beautiful stranger’s words have hypnotized me, captured my soul, and I am, at once, willing to give myself over to this intruder.

But the spell is broken when Mira taps on the door. “Eramane, do not wrap your wound when you are finished. I want your brother to see what he did to you.”

“Fine,” I say, agitated by the intrusion. I finish my bath and wrap a linen robe around me. As I walk to my room, I notice that the pain has subsided, and my foot is only a little tender.