East of the Sun & West of the Moon: Chapter Two

Guatarr walked along the trampled path, the wind battering his body and ripping at his loose clothing, but he paid it no heed. The bushel of flour was held tightly in his arms, even as they ached from carrying it so long. He was too deep inside his own mind, thinking of the week’s events. He felt ill with the thought of the ducks in his home and how he got them. His hands would still shake if he didn’t keep them busy.

He had a week to decide what to do.

As he walked into his home, the smell of duck hit his senses, his watering mouth felt like a betrayal. His family greeted him, his children, nephews and nieces beaming at the collection of duck meat served on the table. His brother, Ordic, clapped him on the back in congratulations at finding a job for Julia, turning to ask her to put in a good word while she was there. His oldest brother sat quietly next to his brooding wife and son. Guatarr didn’t have the energy to argue about their insecurities and entitlement.

Their own daughters were almost ready to leave and for work in rich houses, but Guatarr had refused to give his oldest brother an audience with the “merchant”, making excuses, constantly lying.

At seventeen, Julia was expected to find a husband, work to earn a dowry, and settle down in her husband’s family home by now. Those plans had been put on hold for a few more years, but now he choked as his family gleeful told Julia about the kind of man to look out for, Ordic’s wife Eleni suggesting seeing if the merchant had any sons.

He felt bitter annoyance that Fafner served himself first, as well as his wife and son. His daughter’s life had provided for this meal, and hands clenched he took a large portion and fed his own family before his brothers could take the best meats, like they always did during meals. They could do that only when they were proving the food, but not now. Not now.

Everyone watched him in shock as he gave his family legs and duck breasts apiece. Fafner clenched his hands but didn’t say anything. Ordic and Eleni shared a worried glance.

Julia was looking at him, too, he could feel it, but he couldn’t look at her. He had to keep his leg from bouncing up and down under the table as he ate. As conversation picked back up, he tried to talk about something benign, like saving the duck bones for duck broth, the roof would need patching, and other such bland conversation.

He mechanically nodded his head when it was due, feeling emptier with every motion.

Everyone was hopeful, unsuspecting, continuing to give his daughter congratulations on the fate he had sealed for her.

Fafner and his family had stood up abruptly after eating and left in a foul mood, the little Salvi boy following them reluctantly.

Fafner had not pleaded with the lord like the other farmers, but stood erect, demanding back all the taxes he had been forced to pay for the years of the drought. In the end they had been given nothing. He could not find anyone willing to hire his son, no matter who he talked to.

Guatarr’s brother was finally facing poverty and wouldn’t go down without a fight. But would have Fafner made the same sacrifice as he had? Would he have hesitated like Guatarr had?

Later that night, he felt his choices roll through his mind, the smell of duck seemed to have seeped into everything. It took every ounce of will that he had for him not to shake his daughter awake and beg for forgiveness.

Or…try to convince her to think of their family. He had sat up, looking over the sleeping bundles, laying side by side on their mats, happy and full, really full, for the first time since Summer. He only wished the ducks had been given to him alive so they could have lived off the eggs.

He touched a pouch he had kept in his pants pocket, afraid to let it out of his grasp for fear of losing it. The ducks hadn’t been the only thing given to him as an incentive. The gold coin was cold and heavy, and unlike its copper brethren, it was unspent.

Conflicted, he laid back down, his eyes roaming over the ceiling, as if the darkness concealed what he should do. Eventually, he looked towards the corner of the room where he knew the cradle still was, buried under unused blankets and pushed away. Reminding him of his motives.

He had made it for his dear Beyla decades ago, and it still stood, ready to hold more babes that would never come. Beyla couldn’t bear to see it, to think of all the children that never had the chance to grow out of it. But he couldn’t force himself to be rid of it. His children tried to ignore its presence, silent in their fresh grief, but bulked at the idea of anyone else touching it.

He clutched the money pouch, a bitterness as sharp as the distance between his wife’s body and his own stung his heart. The coin could have helped them so much years ago. So much.

And he could not deny they needed it now just as badly, listening to his youngest son’s coughing fit.

Oh, but the cost.

Julia had stopped at the foot of the forest, her breath coming out in puffs as she listened. Petrus readied his bow, giving her a nod. Alongside her own bow, she had a small axe and a knife by her side, mainly for foraging reasons, but if they ran into trouble, then she wanted a chance to even the odds a little.

Petrus was only 3 years younger than her at 14, but they were still close, depending on each other. Julia liked to think that the three of them, Tandri included, had survived together because of each other. Julia had looked after her younger siblings after she had realized babies died so easily the hard way. Petrus and Tandri were the only ones to survive infancy.

The only reason Tandri wasn’t hunting with them now was due to his fever. The three of them formed an agreement that anytime one was sick, the other two would split the work, allowing the third to rest. Sickness had taken so many of their siblings, it wasn’t a thing that they could easily dismiss.

Their parents agreed to their notion if the work was done, despite Auntie Magna’s complaints, and they couldn’t argue with the results. Tandri was becoming a strong hunter despite being so small, and Petrus survived a heinous illness last year because he was allowed to rest as much as he needed.

Julia touched her stone pendant, a notch for every person she’d lost in her life and sent a prayer to their spirits to watch over the two of them. Both siblings also wore matching pendants of iron, the only thing that would keep them from being whisked away by magic.

They wanted one last hunting trip together before she had to leave. They also made sure to wake up before the sun rose so that Rekkr couldn’t sneak out with them. They completed their chores under the cover of darkness and fled before dawn had fully arisen. They didn’t take Petrus’ falcon for fear of it being bewitched.

The forest was quiet, the only sound coming from their footfalls. It was unsettling, but she didn’t get the feeling of being watched until they were in the deep forest---the surrounding trees started to look vibrant and healthy, more of them had their leaves, even during this season of Fall, almost Winter.

Sometimes Julia thought she saw a face amongst the swaying branches, but it would disappear the moment she blinked.

“So, Papa was acting a little strange, wasn’t he?” Petrus kept his eyes searching their surroundings as Julia stopped to pull leaves off trees and deposit handfuls into her basket. Leaves fed goats and hogs in a pinch, but the real prize was acorns. Even if they left with nothing, they could at least have something to feed the animals.

“You noticed too?” She whispered a prayer of thanks towards the tree, just in case it was home to fairies, before moving onto the next one. There wasn’t much to gather in this section, and they would need to move deeper still, “He jumps at every sound, Mama has never seen him like this.”

“He hasn’t been the same since he went to see that lord. Careful thorns.”

“Thanks,” Julia shuffled away from said thorny bush and reached as far as her arms could reach to nab the last of the browning leaves a tree had to offer before moving on once again. Her eyes searched for oak trees, namely for their fallen acorns. It wasn’t as dangerous to be slightly off guard here, but it still wouldn’t be wise to linger. Children voices at the edge of fae lands would be too enticing

She was careful to walk around a mushroom ring, “Papa has been rather off…”

“I can’t believe someone would just hand over duck meat, it’s really weird right?”

“Hm mh.”

“I mean, wouldn’t make more sense to give Papa chickens?” Petrus played with his arrow’s new duck feathers, his brow twisted in thought. “The eggs would have fed us for even longer.”

“Unless it was a flaunt of wealth like Auntie Eleni thinks.” Ah, acorns. Julia bent down to pluck them from the ground, not looking up, “It’s all very suspicious, but Mama couldn’t get Papa to talk much about it. ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’ kind of thing. I mean, if it was really bad, he would have told us, don’t you think?”

There was a pause between them, before he mumbled an agreement.

Filling the basket with fifty pounds of acorns took half an hour, mostly because there wasn’t enough to fill the basket under the first tree and Julia scrambled to find a second. As tedious as it was, she didn’t plan on coming back here anytime soon before she left for her new job and wanted to make the most of the trip.

Bored, Petrus slacked on his guarding. He wandered around the trees, climbing up a few of them, and overall grumbled at her pace. She flicked acorns at him in retaliation, “There, I’m done, ya’ happy?”

“Yes, geez. I could have shot a deer and skinned it by now.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be look out next time and you can get bitten by ants.”

They laughed, but it was tinged with the reminder that there wouldn’t be a next time for a while. Possibly never.

He moved to help his sister tie the basket to a thick tree branch and pull it so that it dangled quite high off the ground. It would make it easier to find on their way back and keep it away from curious animals.

They kept close the further they walked into the woods, making note of landmarks and tying bits of string to trees to track their path.

Everything started growing greener, the air warmer, and the two teenagers kept their bows taunt in anticipation. Their feet crunched on acorns as they passed an oak tree in full bloom of its leaves. Julia could have sworn she heard distant singing, the wind tickling her ears, and the smell of enticing fruit hung in the air.

They shared a worried glance, quickly back tracking the way they came, trying not to run. They moved back to the edge where trees teetered between the whispers of winter and early fall. Any deer killed on fairy ground could be a servant of an elf, or secretly a fairy maiden. It was best to error on the side of caution, no matter how hungry they were.

When Petrus found deer tracks nearby and signs of grazing, they scurried up a tree and waited in position.

They didn’t move, breathing softly in their perches, waiting. Listening.

Limbs fell asleep in the hours that they waited, and they took turns moving their bodies slowly. When they grew hungry, they quietly nibbled on smoked duck meat, staring all around them for any sign of deer. It was Petrus’ turn when Julia’s voice made him freeze.

“I see a doe.” She whispered, pulling her bow taunt as she readied her aim.

Petrus looked towards the arrow’s mark, whispering, “Does she have a fawn?”

“No, I can’t see one.”

The deer moved closer, rustling leaves quietly as it searched for danger, but seemed rather at ease. It bent down to nibble at the ground mere yards away, its ears twitching. Julia swallowed when she could see a second deer near the first, but with no clear shot to it. Excitement bubbled in her chest, but she breathed to settle herself and get ready for the killing blow.

“Julia.”

“I see the other one.”

“Julia!” He harshly hissed, reaching to grab her shoulder.

The arrow went wide, disappearing into the foliage. She turned to him, her mind sputtering in shock, but the desire to yell at him died when he only stared at the deer, his face pale.

She turned her head when she heard the animalistic shriek and saw the creatures that had descended upon both does.

Goblins.

Five of them, with clubs that snapped bone so easily, chattering and yelling triumphantly in their own tongue. They were three feet tall, a small sub race with the same grey, scaly features as their larger cousins, and unfortunately also sharing their strength.

Julia reached a shaking hand into her quiver for another arrow. Petrus had already gotten his ready.

They were down wind, and the goblins were very occupied. Julia held her breath, afraid they would be able to hear the blood pounding in her ears.

She felt a tickle down her back, her fingers tingling. Her iron pendant heavy on her chest.

The goblins started pulling the deer corpses back the way she and her brother had come, back towards the greener trees.

And right underneath their hiding spot.

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t hear herself breathe. Everything felt muted, the only sound she could hear was the goblins chattering to one another.

She wanted to turn to look at her brother, just one more look to say goodbye, but with a fright realized that she couldn’t no matter how much she tried. It was like something held her still. The iron pendant grew hotter, and the surrounding flesh was the only area that didn’t have the sensation of being compressed.

She could still move her eyes, however, and stared down as the creatures were right below them, so close she could see the blood on their clubs glisten. There was no way they couldn’t smell them.

And yet.

The goblins moved on, one even stretched and pointed his face skyward, but there was no startled screech or claws tearing into her legs to pull her down.

She could not turn around to watch them go, but their noises faded. And the two siblings were still alive.

The invisible force keeping her still let go, and her body collapsed into a fit of tremors. She dropped her bow, her brother gasped raggedly. The pendant was burning, and she fumbled to pull it out from under her shirt and off her skin.

Julia covered her mouth as she looked towards her brother, his own charm dangling from his hand as his eyes began to water with relieved tears.

They could only choke a laugh to stifle the brewing sobs of relief, still trying to keep quiet. Julia wiped her eyes, moving her sleeping limbs and loving how they tingled painfully. It was a miracle she still had them attached.

She turned to look towards where the goblin noises faded off to but couldn’t see them. In the corner of her eye, she saw a startling flash of white in the vague form of a person but whipping her head in that direction revealed nothing. She stared at the spot, unable to decipher if it had been merely her own frazzled mind, or possibly a forest spirit granting them favor. Her body still tingling with the sensation of being held, of being touched by magic.

Both teenagers were shaking as they climbed down the tree reluctantly, enough time passing for the goblins to be long gone. Julia paused, still staring at the spot where she had seen the white figure. She glanced at her brother before stepping forward and giving a low bow directed at the forest.

“If a spirit just saved us, t-thank you.”

She leaned up to see that Petrus had bowed as well. She grabbed her bow from where it had fallen before scrambling away with her brother by her side.

They swiftly headed home, not willing to tempt fate. Their eyes jumped everywhere, bows kept taunt until their limbs shook with the effort. They kept short words between themselves. They only relaxed when they saw the spinning basket of acorns in the distance, home being close.

She debated leaving behind her basket when they passed it, but Petrus had already moved to take them down. Their work was silent, numb, as they carried the basket together.

Stopping to adjust their grip, Julia noticed a scrape on the basket’s surface, not remembering it being there that morning.

After delivering the basket near the goat pen, her brother left, saying he needed a walk.

Julia touched the goats’ noses, thinking of the deer, and pulled back her hand. She fed them, her existence dismissed in favor of fresh acorns and leaves. The girl shuddered, sinking to sit on the ground, and with a release of tension, cried trembling.

           

           They broke the news gently to their parents, censoring traumatic detail in favor of discussing the miracle of not being seen.

           

            Mama took it as well as they had imagined, hugging them both and failing to hold back relieved tears as she scolded them from ever returning there.

            Tandri stared at them both, stunned that they had seen goblins, and pestered for more detail from Petrus, but was waved off with a soft, “Later, okay?”

            Papa stayed quiet through their retelling, his eyes widening, and he leaned forward in animated curiosity. Especially when Julia mentioned possibly seeing the fae that had helped them, the figure in white. He drilled her about the figure with questions about the size and shape of the creature. It was the most engaging conversation they had together since he had returned home.

            He seemed excited, the worry line on his brow fading into relief, and he finally stopped his interrogation with a thoughtful, awed look.

            “Do you think it was a Landvættir that kept you safe?” Mama asked, wiping her eyes, “A forest guardian? Should we make an offering? I smoked the rest of the duck meat, maybe the spirit would enjoy it.”

            “Maybe, but neither of us want to go back there any time soon, Mama.” Julia rubbed her arms.

            “Of course, love. Truly, I’d rather you not go at all. I can’t believe goblins would have come out this far...”

“They were probably tracking the deer and followed them to our neck of the woods.” Petrus suggested, shifting in his seat.

            They ate supper surrounding the fire pit that night, close and huddled together. Their extended family all pestered them with questions in excitement. Seeing goblins and living to tell the tale was a rarity.

            Rekkr glared into his duck broth, upset that they hadn’t taken him and that he could have, “Shot ‘em all dead before they could even see him.” But he was ignored, which made him pout even more.

Warm duck broth and smoked duck meat did well to ease the siblings’ spirits. Turning away from the day’s events, Petrus discussed the upcoming snowfall and Mama, sensing his tension, mentioned that the squirrel pelts that they had been collecting would provide extra padding to their clothes.

            Papa only gave short answers during the meal when he was asked a question. He merely listened, sipping at his broth, too lost in his own thoughts.

            After they had finished eating, her brothers headed to bed, and the other children left for their own homes and beds. Julia lingered with the other adults by the fire pit, exhausted, but not quite warm enough for sleep.

            Ordic and Eleni had left to follow after their children. Fafner and Magna whispered together, but quickly went to bed also. Julia could feel their eyes on her, but she was too tired to care.

            Her mother sipped warm mead, lost in thought, but calm.

But not Papa. He had a wild look building in his eyes, his jaw setting and his shoulders tensing. He watched his brothers and their wives leave, before he stood up.

            “Julia, can I speak with you a moment?” He gestured towards the door. She hesitated, not wanting to go out in the night chill, but his voice and face told her it was urgent. Julia followed him outside, sharing a confused glance with her mother as she passed her.

            “Guatarr?” Mama questioned.

            “It’s alright, honey.” Papa soothed, managing a smile, “Just something I need to ask her.”

            The wind blew away the fire pit’s warmth the moment they stepped outside, and Julia was thankful when her father led them swiftly towards the shed housing the farm tools. She had a sinking feeling as she walked, pausing to let Papa open the door for her, before he closed it again behind them.

It was cold, but it gave reprieve from the wind at least. Julia leaned against a wall, her stomach twisting with knots.

“Okay, so…?” She tilted her head, “What’s this about?”

Papa swallowed, unable to look at her, “It was a fae that protected you today, wasn’t it? You said the iron was hot, and you couldn’t move---the goblins didn’t even see you.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And you said it was a white creature?”

“Or a creature wearing white, why?”

He rubbed his chapped hands, breathing and keeping his gaze towards the floor. “Remember when---when I said I earned the favor of a merchant?” His voice was weak.

She couldn’t imagine where he was going with this, but immediately thought of the worst: that he had lied and in fact had stolen the ducks and the lord was demanding their heads, that he had given up his right as a freeman and had sold himself to become a serf to the lord, that---

“It wasn’t a man. I—Julia you have to understand, I only wanted what’s best for the family---the creature approached me after the meeting—the lord was going to give us nothing! I--.” Papa closed his eyes. He began to tremble.

“This Winter, we’re not going to survive it. The squirrels weren’t going to work like you children had hoped. The animals we have will not feed the lot of us beyond a month. I—”

The world spun as he looked up to stare at her with tears and sadness in his eyes. But not regret.

“Julie, I sold you. I sold you to a white bear.”

-----2----- 

Author's Note:

And that's makes chapter 2!