East of the Sun & West of the Moon: Chapter One
Julia breathed deeply, holding her bow taut and her aim
steady.
The squirrel was busy eating something in its mouth, sitting unaware of her hiding spot. She inched her elbow back, ready to release—
Rustling behind her caused the squirrel to notice her presence a second before she released her arrow.
Thud.
A miss.
She cursed under her breath as the happy little squirrel scampered further up the tree and out of range. Julia wanted to scream at her cousin in the bushes, already hearing Rekkr’s laughter bubbling, but didn’t have the energy. She was far too tired and hungry.
Instead, she stomped towards the tree her arrow was lodged in, pulling out the arrow. She glared at the stone arrow tip still wedged into tree bark, taking out her anger as she whittled the bark with her knife until the arrowhead popped out.
“Good shot.” Laughed Rekkr, coming out of his hiding spot. He was fifteen, tall with a farmer’s build, and held the cockiness of an only son. And unlike her, his clothes did not hang off loosely, and his face did not share the same gauntness. His father could afford the loss of a squirrel.
He twirled his bow casually, and Julia ignored both his comment and the desire to beat him in the head with a nearby branch.
“You cost me a squirrel, Rekkr.” She forced her voice to be calm, but he scoffed, only infuriating her more.
“As if squirrels feed anybody. I told you we needed to go deeper; I don’t want to waste time here when there’s actual food deeper in. But,” he sighed, “guess they don’t want you getting lost. Too bad Petrus is taking care of the runt; him and me could find a deer quick.”
Julia chose not to comment, her agitation cooling in the thought that it was in fact his mother that kept him from going deeper into this forest. The older woman had scolded the two of them, but mostly directed at Julia, to keep out of the deep forest and not, “drag my boy into that awful place.” Although Julia could understand her aunt’s concerns.
The “awful place” they inhibited was merely the outer rim of the real forest, deeper in. Where time was turned back, trees were in full bloom, fruit hung from branches, and fairy creatures wandered freely. Only the desperately starving dared to hunt here, and only the recklessly stupid would consider going closer to the Deep Forest unprepared.
“I think you’re better at making arrows rather than shooting them.” Rekkr interrupted her thoughts, taking out an arrow himself and readied his bow, pointing at the sky, “But I bet if I had better arrows, I could shoot a falcon.”
“Hm mh.” It was best not to engage as him puffed his own ego. She mentally cursed her brother for making her partner with Rekkr for the day. It was usually his job to entertain their cousin. However, Petrus was watching and teaching sweet little Salvi hunting skills and ways to tame falcons.
The ten-year-old boy was one of the youngest born to a rich tavern owner, a distant uncle of theirs. Petrus had a viable talent with birds, making him a valuable trainer for lower class peasants that wanted to get into the trade.
Little Salvi seemed to love it in the country, loving his time spent with their animals most of all. He had a way that calmed even the most temperamental horses and soothed the most frightened of birds. His father intended for Salvi to become a great falconer and find work in a rich family’s home. He had the connections and had promised Petrus to introduce him to those connections in return for training Salvi.
Uncle Fafner, the owner of the lands they lived on, kept any money Salvi’s father sent for food and board and kept the boy close whenever Petrus wasn’t around.
Salvi had mentioned that Fafner would often mention marriage to his daughter, Aala, a slight, quiet girl at the age of twelve. Poor Salvi only had eyes for birds, however.
She hoped Salvi and Petrus were doing better than she was.
As much as Rekkr boasted and raved about his catch, his sack only held four squirrels. He was too quick to shoot, scaring off prey and ruining his arrows. She and her brothers had started to hide their own arrows at night when they realized their cousin would switch his abused arrows for their cared for ones.
But, putting Rekkr’s questionable marksmanship aside, she only had six squirrels herself. She suspected that that was the reason her cousin was in such a good mood.
Six squirrels were a pitiful catch, but less and less had been appearing lately. It took an hour to spot the one that had escaped. Most animals had moved deeper into the forest, the paths that she knew no longer held enticing food for them. But the only reason why they were even attempted to hunt here was because of desperation. At least desperation on her part.
Rekkr couldn’t stand being left out of a hunting trip, even if it was with her. Not that he needed the meat. While her small family had lived in poverty for some time, Rekkr’s did not. But neither would he simply give away his catch without a trade of arrows, or something equally demanding to annoy her and her brothers.
However, she had noticed the decrease in animals on Rekkr’s land, his sisters running around aimlessly in the fields with nothing to do. Her uncle was curt with her father, demanding more bushels of acorns for his hogs, and more work, and more and more.
Uncle Fafner’s voice had grown its own note of desperation, the drought finally taking its toll on his lands. He and her father had left days ago, along with a few other distraught farmers, to have a chat with the local lord. Things were looking desperate for everyone.
But even so, they still stayed out of the Deep forest, unwilling to risk fate just yet. Any who ventured into the Deep Forest risked death and sometimes something worse.
Last year, a distant neighboring family had a three-year-old son disappear near the forest trees. Some hunters have claimed to see the boy’s restless, wandering spirit, ready to go home, but unable to find his way. It was a horrifying example.
Still…
Julia bit her lip in thought, rolling the arrow tip between her fingers. Her brothers had been pestering her about hunting in the Deep Forest anyway. They could do it if they were careful…
Her mouth watered at the notion of rabbits, deer, something more than watered down squirrel broth. Enough meat to fill their bellies, and enough dried meat to survive through the winter. Pelts that did more than patch the holes in her breeches but covered her from head to toe in furred warmth.
The temptation made her shift from foot to foot, wanting to see what an hour hunting in the deeper forest would bring her, even if she dragged Rekkr with her. Or tied him to a tree.
But it was already growing dark wasn’t it? And her appendages were numb and sore from hours of shooting squirrels, and her afore mentioned tattered clothing did little to keep out the growing chill. She would have to talk to Petrus about sneaking further in, admit that the squirrels weren’t going to last like she had hoped. She could already sense his excitement.
The path home was uneventful, no squirrels, no hint of old acorns, the trees already bare of leaves due to the season. It was only yards and yards of dead wet leaves in every direction, trees shooting up from the ground like withered sticks. Freezing water soaking into her tattered boots with every step.
“It’s so dead here.” Rekkr snapped a twig off a tree, the sound hollow and weak.
She paused by a familiar creek, one she used to sneak her siblings to in the summer months and sat down on a nearby log. Flexing her fingers, Julia willed them to warm and unclench.
Rekkr wandered away to relieve himself, and Julia focused pointedly on the creek.
Its babbling was soothing, even as small and muddy as it had become. It was like a whisper, reminding her of warmer times where her family would splash in the cool, rushing waters of the river’s younger days. Tandri, her youngest brother, would find rocks to add to his collection, Petrus would try to find frogs and other creatures in the grass to show to Tandri. Then both would slip a slimy creature down the back of Julia’s dress. They’d laugh maniacally as she’d shriek and chase them for revenge.
Their laughter had dried up with the rain.
Her thoughts sunk towards that last, good summer before she could stop them. Little hands would hold tight to her dress in order to stay upright. Light, chirping giggles would burst in delight as tiny toes stood in the creek for the first time. Bright eyes and downy curls looking up at her—
Julia flinched as a stick floated past her vision, and she watched it as it continued down the creek, bobbing along weakly. She blinked and breathed.
Her fingers weren’t numb anymore, but she still flexed her fingers, griping them and letting go.
It would be dark soon, she reminded herself. It was time to go.
Grabbing her bag of squirrels, she yelled for her cousin to hurry up before turning her back to the forest, feeling a weight between her shoulder blades, and walked the rest of the way out at a slightly faster pace.
The wind blew at her coat, and she crossed her arms, shivering. It would be Winter soon, if it hadn’t arrived already.
The land looked as dry and bitter as death, a visage she felt deep in her bones. The last two years did little for the state of the land; two years of draught were turning the once grassy fields to brittle patches of grass. Shepherds got into arguments with farmers regularly about the small decent patches of earth, who had the right to it. There had been more than one fight break out, and the nearest lord was doing little to quench them.
With Winter coming, the fights died down as everyone scrambled to keep warm and provide food for their families and livestock.
People murmured about a curse often, staring towards the forests when they did so. But lately, with so much time in their hands sitting around fires, they were wondering if it was the lord that had offended the spirits somehow.
As she could see her home in the distance, she humorlessly thought how lucky they were to have so little. No one had tried to ransack their home. Or perhaps they kept their distance, thinking their family was cursed along with the land. Julia wondered about it too, sometimes.
She petted the few scrawny goats wandering in their yard, feeling their inquiring noses prod at her bag, causing her to raise it out of their reach as she told them, “No, no, not for you. Tomorrow I’ll find you something.”
They merely nibbled at her dress and sneezed at her as she passed.
Her home was built next to her two uncles’ homes. The house her father was raised in was now Fafner’s home, a large log house with a large fireplace, two bedrooms for the parents and children. A smaller house sat beside it, where her uncle Ordic and her Auntie Eleni lived with their children.
Her home was a shack that used to store food.
When her grandmother was alive, it was used as a big kitchen, and everyone would gather inside to eat. Fafner expected the same from Julia’s Mama, and most meals were still served in their little home. It became apart her Mama’s duties to tend to meals so that the other mothers could focus on other preparations like home weaving on looms.
Their home wasn’t much, the door opened into the kitchen, simple chairs surrounded a worn table, and there was a room where they all slept on mats stuffed with hay, but it was tidy and warm.
“We may be poor, but that’s not a reason to not stay clean.” Her mother would say, pointedly looking at her two boys and their mud-covered boots. All three children learned to keep rags to wipe off mud before coming in.
Julia stopped to wipe her own boots, setting the rag out to the side while Rekkr stepped inside. She didn’t think much of his loud, excited chatter until she entered as well.
Her mother was stirring a kettle over the fire pit, brown hair tied back. Julia was about to report her sad findings but instead almost tripped when she saw duck being prepared on the table, its feathers collected into a basket. The aroma of duck stew bubbled from the kettle.
Little Tandri, now 10 but still stick thin and flush with fever, was busy plucking another bird, along with their kid cousins. Julia turned to see a string of freshly plucked ducks hanging from the wall. Rekkr stood awestruck alongside his own mother, of whom smiled but it didn’t meet her eyes. She looked like she had tasted something sour and tried to hide it. The older woman’s eyes narrowed when she saw that Julia had come in.
But Julia couldn’t be bothered to take offence. A hole seemed to open at the bottom of her stomach, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
“Where did this come from?” Rekkr beamed, “Did father bring back these? Can I have my own duck, mother? I knew hunting was better near the lord’s lands, I just knew it!”
Julia felt like she was going to choke; ducks stayed on the lord’s lands due to his access to larger bodies of water. They were almost exclusively hunted, raised, and eaten by his lordship. At best, being caught hunting on royal hunting grounds earned a person a fine. At worst, death.
“Mh, no, your father didn’t bring those home.” Her Auntie Magna’s words were curt, but she brushed her son’s hair and whispered underneath her breath, “But of course you can have your own duck.”
“Your uncle brought them, darlin’.” Julia’s Mama cut a slice of duck and slipped it into the pot, turning to look at them. Mama smiled at her daughter, “Your father found you a job, maybe even an apprenticeship! And with a rich merchant no less! You’ll be servin’ in his house as a handmaiden until you can learn how to weave.”
Auntie Magna’s face crinkled even more.
“An apprenticeship? That gives out ducks?” Julia stared at the collection with disbelief. She counted 7 altogether, and it felt like such a waste to have had them killed. And yet, her stomach growled, her mind calculating how many people this would feed. Would it be too much for her to ask for a leg for dinner?
“It was left over from a nobleman’s sporting hunt.” Mama explained, “The merchant was given a large amount as a gift, and he heard of our plight and—” she waved a hand, gesturing towards the obvious generosity, Julia felt her heart warm.
Auntie Magna scoffed, turning back to cut vegetables, “What daft kind of merchant gives away, duck? Unless the man is expecting something else. I can only imagine what your husband told the man about your daughter.”
Mama’s glare was weather worn and glinted like steel, the air tense. Julia had a feeling this had not been the first comment Auntie Magna had made. It seemed like she had stepped into an ongoing argument.
“Now don’t you start, Magna, just because my husband found favor with someone does not mean you can start dirty rumors. This is a great opportunity for my daughter, those ducks are an advance on her salary. It’s a time to celebrate.”
“Oh, like it hasn’t crossed your mind as well. What reason could a man have to be so generous? And what reason could your husband have to deny Fafner a meeting with this merchant?” Auntie Magna sneered.
“The merchant was already gone. He had to leave for business.” Mama countered, but looked to Julia when she mentioned, “The man has many businesses, not just weaving. He’s a very busy man.”
Julia wanted to ask about the other businesses, if it included baking, or woodwork. Or travel.
Auntie Magna threw her hands in the air, “Our daughters deserve the chance to work and learn a trade—you and your husband are being unreasonable. Guatarr should have found the man and begged for another job for my girls. Maybe my Aala should be going instead of Julia.”
Aala sat quietly plucking duck feathers, looked up hopefully.
Mama spoke slowly, “When my husband drops off my daughter, then we’ll mention Aala, but Guatarr already told you both that the merchant was only looking for one girl. He wouldn’t pay Aala as much due to her age. It’s better for Julia to go.”
Auntie Magna huffed, unable to argue further no matter how much her blotchy red head tried to sputter a retort. She stormed out of the kitchen instead, with an equally sour Rekkr in tow. They could hear her yelling at her young daughters outside as they tried to wrangle the wandering goats. Magna’s two older daughters still sat inside quietly, plucking feathers. Aala looked crestfallen.
Julia leaned down to whisper to the girl, “Don’t worry, if he has so many businesses, he’ll need more people. I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Aala nodded but didn’t speak.
Julia stood by her Mama, setting aside her meager bag of squirrels next to Tandri, of whom peeked and clucked at the small number. She had completely forgotten about the terrible hunt, feeling surreal. But maybe it wouldn’t be an issue any longer.
“Papa really got me a job? In a town? Does it pay well?”
Mama smiled, her frustration fading as she went back to separating meat from bone, her voice weary but joyful, hopeful.
“Aye, a copper coin every day. Enough we might get a cow this Summer, if we plan it right. Your father just left again to buy wheat—we’ll have bread.” Mama looked as though she would cry.
Julia felt a wash of relief she didn’t know she needed, and already she was calculating her earnings, what it could bring to their family. Clothes, food, new farm animals that weren’t too old and sickly to provide milk and meat. She felt ecstatic, going to the carrots her Auntie Magna left behind and started cutting enthusiastically. She might even get a new dress for herself.
Warm socks. She thought indulgently.
“Did Papa get to speak to the lord like he wanted? Did the meeting with the lord and the farmers go well?”
“Hm, not exactly, love. The lord will decrease taxes to make up for the drought. But there’s little else he’s willing to aid us with. I think the merchant might have even hired you out of pity. But–”
Mama wiped her hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on her face, “I know you’ll work hard and earn your wages. If the merchant wishes to be charitable, then that’s his business, but it’ll still be a job. Fafner and Magna might call it a “hand-out”, but don’t let it get to you. They’re just being spiteful. But I think their words are hurting your father’s pride.”
Julia’s face fell, “Do you think Papa wants me not to accept it then?”
“No, no, he’s got some sense to ‘em. He knows we need this, damn this family’s pride, it’s just…oh how do I put it? He just seemed so out of sorts. One moment he’s on our side, the next he’s holding his head in his hands. You’ll see.”
Julia went back to quietly cutting the carrots, disgruntled that her uncle and aunt would be upset about this, putting a damper on her good mood. Well, there was no surprise about Auntie Magna causing a fuss, the woman didn’t seem happy unless she was making other people miserable, but Julia couldn’t say that while the woman’s grey eyed daughters sat nearby on the floor.
Tandri stood up and poked his sister with a feather, “I think it’s great you’ll be getting out of here. Bring me back a present?” He asked, handing her the feather, and softly whispered, “And maaaybe, if you can, see if you can get me a job, too? Cousin Helga keeps talking about marrying me.” He grimaced, looking over his shoulder at the seven-year-old playing with dolls and the feathers her and her sister Aala had plucked.
Julia elbowed him, “Of course, Tanny.”
He leaned back, hands stretched behind his head, and she noticed a few feathers tucked into his hair, “Wait until Petrus comes home.” He smiled gleefully, “Oh he’s going to love this.”
Next Chapter will be tomorrow, so stay tuned!
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The squirrel was busy eating something in its mouth, sitting unaware of her hiding spot. She inched her elbow back, ready to release—
Rustling behind her caused the squirrel to notice her presence a second before she released her arrow.
Thud.
A miss.
She cursed under her breath as the happy little squirrel scampered further up the tree and out of range. Julia wanted to scream at her cousin in the bushes, already hearing Rekkr’s laughter bubbling, but didn’t have the energy. She was far too tired and hungry.
Instead, she stomped towards the tree her arrow was lodged in, pulling out the arrow. She glared at the stone arrow tip still wedged into tree bark, taking out her anger as she whittled the bark with her knife until the arrowhead popped out.
“Good shot.” Laughed Rekkr, coming out of his hiding spot. He was fifteen, tall with a farmer’s build, and held the cockiness of an only son. And unlike her, his clothes did not hang off loosely, and his face did not share the same gauntness. His father could afford the loss of a squirrel.
He twirled his bow casually, and Julia ignored both his comment and the desire to beat him in the head with a nearby branch.
“You cost me a squirrel, Rekkr.” She forced her voice to be calm, but he scoffed, only infuriating her more.
“As if squirrels feed anybody. I told you we needed to go deeper; I don’t want to waste time here when there’s actual food deeper in. But,” he sighed, “guess they don’t want you getting lost. Too bad Petrus is taking care of the runt; him and me could find a deer quick.”
Julia chose not to comment, her agitation cooling in the thought that it was in fact his mother that kept him from going deeper into this forest. The older woman had scolded the two of them, but mostly directed at Julia, to keep out of the deep forest and not, “drag my boy into that awful place.” Although Julia could understand her aunt’s concerns.
The “awful place” they inhibited was merely the outer rim of the real forest, deeper in. Where time was turned back, trees were in full bloom, fruit hung from branches, and fairy creatures wandered freely. Only the desperately starving dared to hunt here, and only the recklessly stupid would consider going closer to the Deep Forest unprepared.
“I think you’re better at making arrows rather than shooting them.” Rekkr interrupted her thoughts, taking out an arrow himself and readied his bow, pointing at the sky, “But I bet if I had better arrows, I could shoot a falcon.”
“Hm mh.” It was best not to engage as him puffed his own ego. She mentally cursed her brother for making her partner with Rekkr for the day. It was usually his job to entertain their cousin. However, Petrus was watching and teaching sweet little Salvi hunting skills and ways to tame falcons.
The ten-year-old boy was one of the youngest born to a rich tavern owner, a distant uncle of theirs. Petrus had a viable talent with birds, making him a valuable trainer for lower class peasants that wanted to get into the trade.
Little Salvi seemed to love it in the country, loving his time spent with their animals most of all. He had a way that calmed even the most temperamental horses and soothed the most frightened of birds. His father intended for Salvi to become a great falconer and find work in a rich family’s home. He had the connections and had promised Petrus to introduce him to those connections in return for training Salvi.
Uncle Fafner, the owner of the lands they lived on, kept any money Salvi’s father sent for food and board and kept the boy close whenever Petrus wasn’t around.
Salvi had mentioned that Fafner would often mention marriage to his daughter, Aala, a slight, quiet girl at the age of twelve. Poor Salvi only had eyes for birds, however.
She hoped Salvi and Petrus were doing better than she was.
As much as Rekkr boasted and raved about his catch, his sack only held four squirrels. He was too quick to shoot, scaring off prey and ruining his arrows. She and her brothers had started to hide their own arrows at night when they realized their cousin would switch his abused arrows for their cared for ones.
But, putting Rekkr’s questionable marksmanship aside, she only had six squirrels herself. She suspected that that was the reason her cousin was in such a good mood.
Six squirrels were a pitiful catch, but less and less had been appearing lately. It took an hour to spot the one that had escaped. Most animals had moved deeper into the forest, the paths that she knew no longer held enticing food for them. But the only reason why they were even attempted to hunt here was because of desperation. At least desperation on her part.
Rekkr couldn’t stand being left out of a hunting trip, even if it was with her. Not that he needed the meat. While her small family had lived in poverty for some time, Rekkr’s did not. But neither would he simply give away his catch without a trade of arrows, or something equally demanding to annoy her and her brothers.
However, she had noticed the decrease in animals on Rekkr’s land, his sisters running around aimlessly in the fields with nothing to do. Her uncle was curt with her father, demanding more bushels of acorns for his hogs, and more work, and more and more.
Uncle Fafner’s voice had grown its own note of desperation, the drought finally taking its toll on his lands. He and her father had left days ago, along with a few other distraught farmers, to have a chat with the local lord. Things were looking desperate for everyone.
But even so, they still stayed out of the Deep forest, unwilling to risk fate just yet. Any who ventured into the Deep Forest risked death and sometimes something worse.
Last year, a distant neighboring family had a three-year-old son disappear near the forest trees. Some hunters have claimed to see the boy’s restless, wandering spirit, ready to go home, but unable to find his way. It was a horrifying example.
Still…
Julia bit her lip in thought, rolling the arrow tip between her fingers. Her brothers had been pestering her about hunting in the Deep Forest anyway. They could do it if they were careful…
Her mouth watered at the notion of rabbits, deer, something more than watered down squirrel broth. Enough meat to fill their bellies, and enough dried meat to survive through the winter. Pelts that did more than patch the holes in her breeches but covered her from head to toe in furred warmth.
The temptation made her shift from foot to foot, wanting to see what an hour hunting in the deeper forest would bring her, even if she dragged Rekkr with her. Or tied him to a tree.
But it was already growing dark wasn’t it? And her appendages were numb and sore from hours of shooting squirrels, and her afore mentioned tattered clothing did little to keep out the growing chill. She would have to talk to Petrus about sneaking further in, admit that the squirrels weren’t going to last like she had hoped. She could already sense his excitement.
The path home was uneventful, no squirrels, no hint of old acorns, the trees already bare of leaves due to the season. It was only yards and yards of dead wet leaves in every direction, trees shooting up from the ground like withered sticks. Freezing water soaking into her tattered boots with every step.
“It’s so dead here.” Rekkr snapped a twig off a tree, the sound hollow and weak.
She paused by a familiar creek, one she used to sneak her siblings to in the summer months and sat down on a nearby log. Flexing her fingers, Julia willed them to warm and unclench.
Rekkr wandered away to relieve himself, and Julia focused pointedly on the creek.
Its babbling was soothing, even as small and muddy as it had become. It was like a whisper, reminding her of warmer times where her family would splash in the cool, rushing waters of the river’s younger days. Tandri, her youngest brother, would find rocks to add to his collection, Petrus would try to find frogs and other creatures in the grass to show to Tandri. Then both would slip a slimy creature down the back of Julia’s dress. They’d laugh maniacally as she’d shriek and chase them for revenge.
Their laughter had dried up with the rain.
Her thoughts sunk towards that last, good summer before she could stop them. Little hands would hold tight to her dress in order to stay upright. Light, chirping giggles would burst in delight as tiny toes stood in the creek for the first time. Bright eyes and downy curls looking up at her—
Julia flinched as a stick floated past her vision, and she watched it as it continued down the creek, bobbing along weakly. She blinked and breathed.
Her fingers weren’t numb anymore, but she still flexed her fingers, griping them and letting go.
It would be dark soon, she reminded herself. It was time to go.
Grabbing her bag of squirrels, she yelled for her cousin to hurry up before turning her back to the forest, feeling a weight between her shoulder blades, and walked the rest of the way out at a slightly faster pace.
The wind blew at her coat, and she crossed her arms, shivering. It would be Winter soon, if it hadn’t arrived already.
The land looked as dry and bitter as death, a visage she felt deep in her bones. The last two years did little for the state of the land; two years of draught were turning the once grassy fields to brittle patches of grass. Shepherds got into arguments with farmers regularly about the small decent patches of earth, who had the right to it. There had been more than one fight break out, and the nearest lord was doing little to quench them.
With Winter coming, the fights died down as everyone scrambled to keep warm and provide food for their families and livestock.
People murmured about a curse often, staring towards the forests when they did so. But lately, with so much time in their hands sitting around fires, they were wondering if it was the lord that had offended the spirits somehow.
As she could see her home in the distance, she humorlessly thought how lucky they were to have so little. No one had tried to ransack their home. Or perhaps they kept their distance, thinking their family was cursed along with the land. Julia wondered about it too, sometimes.
She petted the few scrawny goats wandering in their yard, feeling their inquiring noses prod at her bag, causing her to raise it out of their reach as she told them, “No, no, not for you. Tomorrow I’ll find you something.”
They merely nibbled at her dress and sneezed at her as she passed.
Her home was built next to her two uncles’ homes. The house her father was raised in was now Fafner’s home, a large log house with a large fireplace, two bedrooms for the parents and children. A smaller house sat beside it, where her uncle Ordic and her Auntie Eleni lived with their children.
Her home was a shack that used to store food.
When her grandmother was alive, it was used as a big kitchen, and everyone would gather inside to eat. Fafner expected the same from Julia’s Mama, and most meals were still served in their little home. It became apart her Mama’s duties to tend to meals so that the other mothers could focus on other preparations like home weaving on looms.
Their home wasn’t much, the door opened into the kitchen, simple chairs surrounded a worn table, and there was a room where they all slept on mats stuffed with hay, but it was tidy and warm.
“We may be poor, but that’s not a reason to not stay clean.” Her mother would say, pointedly looking at her two boys and their mud-covered boots. All three children learned to keep rags to wipe off mud before coming in.
Julia stopped to wipe her own boots, setting the rag out to the side while Rekkr stepped inside. She didn’t think much of his loud, excited chatter until she entered as well.
Her mother was stirring a kettle over the fire pit, brown hair tied back. Julia was about to report her sad findings but instead almost tripped when she saw duck being prepared on the table, its feathers collected into a basket. The aroma of duck stew bubbled from the kettle.
Little Tandri, now 10 but still stick thin and flush with fever, was busy plucking another bird, along with their kid cousins. Julia turned to see a string of freshly plucked ducks hanging from the wall. Rekkr stood awestruck alongside his own mother, of whom smiled but it didn’t meet her eyes. She looked like she had tasted something sour and tried to hide it. The older woman’s eyes narrowed when she saw that Julia had come in.
But Julia couldn’t be bothered to take offence. A hole seemed to open at the bottom of her stomach, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
“Where did this come from?” Rekkr beamed, “Did father bring back these? Can I have my own duck, mother? I knew hunting was better near the lord’s lands, I just knew it!”
Julia felt like she was going to choke; ducks stayed on the lord’s lands due to his access to larger bodies of water. They were almost exclusively hunted, raised, and eaten by his lordship. At best, being caught hunting on royal hunting grounds earned a person a fine. At worst, death.
“Mh, no, your father didn’t bring those home.” Her Auntie Magna’s words were curt, but she brushed her son’s hair and whispered underneath her breath, “But of course you can have your own duck.”
“Your uncle brought them, darlin’.” Julia’s Mama cut a slice of duck and slipped it into the pot, turning to look at them. Mama smiled at her daughter, “Your father found you a job, maybe even an apprenticeship! And with a rich merchant no less! You’ll be servin’ in his house as a handmaiden until you can learn how to weave.”
Auntie Magna’s face crinkled even more.
“An apprenticeship? That gives out ducks?” Julia stared at the collection with disbelief. She counted 7 altogether, and it felt like such a waste to have had them killed. And yet, her stomach growled, her mind calculating how many people this would feed. Would it be too much for her to ask for a leg for dinner?
“It was left over from a nobleman’s sporting hunt.” Mama explained, “The merchant was given a large amount as a gift, and he heard of our plight and—” she waved a hand, gesturing towards the obvious generosity, Julia felt her heart warm.
Auntie Magna scoffed, turning back to cut vegetables, “What daft kind of merchant gives away, duck? Unless the man is expecting something else. I can only imagine what your husband told the man about your daughter.”
Mama’s glare was weather worn and glinted like steel, the air tense. Julia had a feeling this had not been the first comment Auntie Magna had made. It seemed like she had stepped into an ongoing argument.
“Now don’t you start, Magna, just because my husband found favor with someone does not mean you can start dirty rumors. This is a great opportunity for my daughter, those ducks are an advance on her salary. It’s a time to celebrate.”
“Oh, like it hasn’t crossed your mind as well. What reason could a man have to be so generous? And what reason could your husband have to deny Fafner a meeting with this merchant?” Auntie Magna sneered.
“The merchant was already gone. He had to leave for business.” Mama countered, but looked to Julia when she mentioned, “The man has many businesses, not just weaving. He’s a very busy man.”
Julia wanted to ask about the other businesses, if it included baking, or woodwork. Or travel.
Auntie Magna threw her hands in the air, “Our daughters deserve the chance to work and learn a trade—you and your husband are being unreasonable. Guatarr should have found the man and begged for another job for my girls. Maybe my Aala should be going instead of Julia.”
Aala sat quietly plucking duck feathers, looked up hopefully.
Mama spoke slowly, “When my husband drops off my daughter, then we’ll mention Aala, but Guatarr already told you both that the merchant was only looking for one girl. He wouldn’t pay Aala as much due to her age. It’s better for Julia to go.”
Auntie Magna huffed, unable to argue further no matter how much her blotchy red head tried to sputter a retort. She stormed out of the kitchen instead, with an equally sour Rekkr in tow. They could hear her yelling at her young daughters outside as they tried to wrangle the wandering goats. Magna’s two older daughters still sat inside quietly, plucking feathers. Aala looked crestfallen.
Julia leaned down to whisper to the girl, “Don’t worry, if he has so many businesses, he’ll need more people. I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Aala nodded but didn’t speak.
Julia stood by her Mama, setting aside her meager bag of squirrels next to Tandri, of whom peeked and clucked at the small number. She had completely forgotten about the terrible hunt, feeling surreal. But maybe it wouldn’t be an issue any longer.
“Papa really got me a job? In a town? Does it pay well?”
Mama smiled, her frustration fading as she went back to separating meat from bone, her voice weary but joyful, hopeful.
“Aye, a copper coin every day. Enough we might get a cow this Summer, if we plan it right. Your father just left again to buy wheat—we’ll have bread.” Mama looked as though she would cry.
Julia felt a wash of relief she didn’t know she needed, and already she was calculating her earnings, what it could bring to their family. Clothes, food, new farm animals that weren’t too old and sickly to provide milk and meat. She felt ecstatic, going to the carrots her Auntie Magna left behind and started cutting enthusiastically. She might even get a new dress for herself.
Warm socks. She thought indulgently.
“Did Papa get to speak to the lord like he wanted? Did the meeting with the lord and the farmers go well?”
“Hm, not exactly, love. The lord will decrease taxes to make up for the drought. But there’s little else he’s willing to aid us with. I think the merchant might have even hired you out of pity. But–”
Mama wiped her hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on her face, “I know you’ll work hard and earn your wages. If the merchant wishes to be charitable, then that’s his business, but it’ll still be a job. Fafner and Magna might call it a “hand-out”, but don’t let it get to you. They’re just being spiteful. But I think their words are hurting your father’s pride.”
Julia’s face fell, “Do you think Papa wants me not to accept it then?”
“No, no, he’s got some sense to ‘em. He knows we need this, damn this family’s pride, it’s just…oh how do I put it? He just seemed so out of sorts. One moment he’s on our side, the next he’s holding his head in his hands. You’ll see.”
Julia went back to quietly cutting the carrots, disgruntled that her uncle and aunt would be upset about this, putting a damper on her good mood. Well, there was no surprise about Auntie Magna causing a fuss, the woman didn’t seem happy unless she was making other people miserable, but Julia couldn’t say that while the woman’s grey eyed daughters sat nearby on the floor.
Tandri stood up and poked his sister with a feather, “I think it’s great you’ll be getting out of here. Bring me back a present?” He asked, handing her the feather, and softly whispered, “And maaaybe, if you can, see if you can get me a job, too? Cousin Helga keeps talking about marrying me.” He grimaced, looking over his shoulder at the seven-year-old playing with dolls and the feathers her and her sister Aala had plucked.
Julia elbowed him, “Of course, Tanny.”
He leaned back, hands stretched behind his head, and she noticed a few feathers tucked into his hair, “Wait until Petrus comes home.” He smiled gleefully, “Oh he’s going to love this.”
———-1———-
Author’s Comments: I hope you enjoyed my first chapter of East of the
Sun & West of the Moon! This is a draft, so the final product might
be a bit different, but not by much. Let me know if you have
constructive criticisms! I’m always open to improve.Next Chapter will be tomorrow, so stay tuned!
My Patreon is https://www.patreon.com/cadesurprise
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