Alisiyad Chapter 7 ~ Mules (Part 2)

Towards noon they came to a lone well standing at the top of a hill.  It was an ancient looking ring of worn stones, surrounded by tall grass and grown over with lichen.  Oan rushed forward and began to pull at the rope hanging down into the dark hole.

Russ and Liseli were last to the well, and by the time they got there, the Alisiyans were occupied with settling down a temporary camp to eat lunch and have a rest.  Liseli lifted herself up to sit on the side of the well, then looked down at her dangling feet.  Russ grabbed a rope and started to pull up a bucket.  She watched him silently, too tired to say anything at the moment.  He set the bucket on the edge and looked at her.  “You want a drink?”

She titled her head to the side.  “Wouldn’t it be funny . . . if we can drink from their poisoned river, but the well water they drink kills us?”

“Uh . . . .”  Russ paused, then looked down into the bucket.  “Want to find out?”

“Mm-hm.  I’m thirsty.”  Liseli dipped her hands into the water, cradling a drink between them as she lifted them up.  She began to bend down, but then she got an idea, and looked up at Russ with a smirk.  “Test it for me first,” she said, carefully extending her hands toward him.

“What?”

“You heard me, go on.”  She nodded toward her hands.  She knew it was silly.  Stupid, even.  But she wanted to see if he’d do it; and know that he wanted to.

Russ looked at her warily, then darted a glance at the onlookers.  Finally he twitched a little half-smile.  “Huh.  Okay . . . .”  He cupped his hands underneath hers and bent down to drink.  She felt his lips brush against the palms of her hands as the water trickled out between her fingers.

He lifted his head and grinned crookedly.  He looked so silly when he smiled like that.  She’d missed it since that morning.

“Water’s safe,” he said after a moment.

Liseli felt a little embarrassed, now, and looked down self-consciously as she wiped her hands on her pantlegs.  Russ silently dipped a ladle into the bucket and extended it toward her.  “Here.”

“Thanks.”  She took it and drank.  The water was brackish tasting.  It was a far cry from the Chaiorra River, but their path had led them away from it, and it was hidden behind some hills to the west.  According to Martilia, the river would angle back toward them the closer they got to Elharan.  Liseli wished it was close enough to run down to right now and wash the taste of well water from her mouth.  She handed the ladle back to Russ, and glanced over at the Alisiyans as he drank again.  They didn’t seem to be paying attention to the otherworlders, instead busily eating so as to be on their way again.  She would like to share some of their food, but found that she liked being with Russ apart from them for the moment.  She had something to say to him, which made her feel awkward, but she needed to say it.

“Um, Russ.”  She paused to scratch her shoulder.  “I’m glad that you’re here.”

He stopped with the ladle halfway to his mouth; his eyebrows went up and he blinked for a moment.  “Really?”

“Well, yeah.  I mean, it’s nice to have s-someone who’s at least familiar.”  Suddenly her neck itched, too.  “Otherwise, you know, it would be really weird.”  She’d wanted to say that having him around made her feel safer around the strangers, but just couldn’t get it out.

Russ shrugged and ducked his head.  “Sure.”

“And I was thinking; this really could be worse.”  She lifted the other corner of her mouth in a smile.  “I could have come here with Jim . . . or Glenn.  I would have killed Glenn by now, I really would have.”

He’d started to swirl the ladle around the bucket as she talked.  “Hmm.  I believe that,” he said to the water.

“Ha.”  She threw a mock punch at his arm.

Russ let go of the ladle, and reached out to touch her elbow, tentatively.  “Liseli, I’m glad you’re with me too,” he said.  “If it wasn’t for you I’d be face down in a puddle.  Thanks.”  He dropped his hand from her arm.

Liseli cocked her head to the side and grinned.  “Yes, I did almost throw out my back dragging you to the river.  You’re welcome.”

“I’ll try not to be as useless now that I’m not sick anymore,” he promised.

She rolled her eyes.  “I already told you that you’re not useless.”

“Guess I just wanted to hear it again.”

He was, she could tell, working up the courage to try kissing her a second time.  Not in front of the Alisiyans, she thought, darting a glance toward them before she turned her face away from Russ.  She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to let him kiss her again; what had happened a few hours ago had been so sudden, and it was too much to think about on top of everything else.  She shouldn’t have made him drink from her hands, what a silly stupid thing that was!

“Would you like to eat with us?” Martilia called out to them, and Liseli was glad for the interruption.  She’d said hurtful things to Russ in the past, she knew, but right now she just didn’t want to reject him outright, though neither did she want to add more encouragement to what she’d already given.  Not until she’d had more time to think.  Later, when they were home again, she would give it more thought.

“Come on, let’s eat.”  She slid down from the stones and went over to join their new hosts.

Liseli and Russ had learned a few more things about the Alisiyans from the women as they walked that morning.  Oan and Ivira’s father had died within the last year — of a sickness Martilia did not specify.  The mother had been a weak woman, according to Halla.  She had barely survived Oan’s birth and died after Ivira’s.  So she had been dead for many years, and was not remembered by Oan.  Halla called herself “something of a healer” in the valley, and she had tended to both parents.  Pillari and Martilia were taking the children to the festival in the Elharan for the first time in their young lives.  Martilia said they hoped it would cheer them and take their minds off of their recent loss.  Pillari, Martilia told them, was the leader of the small mountain village they came from.

Liseli thought that the situation explained why the children referred to Pillari and Martilia as Grandfather and Granamae.  The children must view them as old because they were in a position of power, and they had taken the children in as a part of their responsibility to the community.  She was satisfied with this conclusion, and didn’t bother to ask Martilia if it was right.  It made sense, because they certainly weren’t old enough to really be grandparents.

Lunch was bread, cheese, and dried meat.  After the short rest, they continued on.  The scenery was unchanging — open hills dotted with clusters of woods.  The mountains marched along to their right.  Halla said that the mountain range continued all the way down to the sea, where it ended in towering cliffs.  Liseli watched the sparse clouds drift lazily by, and her mind drifted back to the overcast Tuesday yesterday had been in Wisconsin.  It was probably still gray and drizzly, there.  It is only Wednesday, right?  She paused to make sure.  Yes, it had only been one day.  It had been about this time yesterday that they’d . . . that it had happened.

She wondered how the kids at the Burger House were covering for her and Russ.  She wondered if her family was starting to worry, yet.  She usually slipped into the house unannounced at night, but in the morning she made breakfast and got Lara ready for daycare.  Mom would have noticed she was gone in the morning, if Leona hadn’t mentioned her absence the night before.  That is, if Leona had even come home the night before.  Well, at any rate, by now Mom at least should be pissed off at her for not helping with Lara that morning.

She had no idea what she was going to tell them when she got home.  They didn’t even know about her and the Mill, and she didn’t exactly want to mention that in her explanation.

Halla had picked up Ivira and was carrying her as they walked.  Ivira lay her head sleepily on the woman’s shoulder, and asked for a story.  Halla began to speak in a low, calming voice.  Liseli listened to the hypnotic rhythm of her speech, only half paying attention to the story at first.  It was a tale of gods and goddesses, deities who each lorded over their own little part of nature.  A family of such gods, to be exact.  It was a story of tragic, forbidden love — about a sister and brother who wed each other against their father’s will.

No kidding, Liseli thought.  Ick.  She thought it was an odd tale to use as a bedtime story for a little girl, but after a moment she realized that the story probably didn’t even matter.  Maybe Ivira had heard it a thousand times before.  Maybe it was as traditional and familiar as wicked stepmothers and poisonous apples.  What mattered was Halla’s soothing voice, and the way she stroked the child’s dark hair with her gentle, reddened hand, lulling her to sleep.

Early in the afternoon they reached the top of another hill, and Liseli stared down at a narrow valley.  The mountains rose up close on the right, with the wide blue of the Chaiorra running down alongside.  Foothills rolled to the left, and the valley ran straight and long between them.  It was dotted with quaint looking farms the whole length — houses and barns with thatched roofs standing amongst furrowed fields.  At the southern end of the valley stood what looked like an ancient castle, only much larger and sprawled out.  Tall stone walls rose up around buildings of the same old gray blocks.

Halla gently nudged Ivira awake, and pointed.  “There it is; Elharan.”

“It’s like stepping back in time,” Liseli said to Russ.

“That’s true,” said Currun, appearing beside them.  “One thing you can say about Elharan, it never changes.”

“Everything changes,” Halla shook her head.  “It is only that you cannot always tell by looking at it.”

Currun jerked on his mule’s rope and walked past her.  “Some people never change,” he said.

She smiled.  “Not as much as they would like other people to think.”

Currun made a little snort, as if to say touché.

Martilia broke in on the exchange cheerfully; “Well, it will be good to see Eliasha again.”

“Hm,” Halla said briefly, turning away.  She didn’t look bothered, not exactly, and her walk was nonchalant as she followed Currun down the path.  But Liseli could imagine her saying Speak for yourself to Martilia.  She stared after her, wondering what it really meant.

Martilia didn’t seem to notice.  “You children will like her; she’s your age, and a lovely girl.”

A moment passed before Liseli realized that Martilia was addressing her and Russ along with Oan and Ivira.  She broke her attention away from Halla.  “Eliasha is . . . ?”

“Arlic’s granddaughter.”  Martilia tilted her head toward Liseli.  “Seventeen this year, I believe.  Though it seems like only yesterday when she was born and—”

“She is the lady of the house where we will be staying,” Pillari interrupted, giving his wife a silencing look.  Martilia smiled, not appearing the least bit miffed at being cut off.  Not even guilty about almost saying something that she wasn’t supposed to.

“Ah.”  Liseli wanted to ask Martilia what the end of her sentence was.  But she couldn’t think of how to phrase it.  Not with Pillari glowering off into the distance like he didn’t want to hear one more word on the subject.  She felt that she had to say something, though, for just that reason.  She wasn’t his docile little pet female, and she was disappointed in Martilia for allowing herself to be pushed around so.  “Well,” she expelled the word defiantly.  “She sounds very interesting.  I’ll look forward to meeting her.”  Oh, brilliant.

“Me too.”  Russ nodded, but there was a strain in his voice.  He scuffed the ground with one foot and gave her a furtive little worried look, which she tried to pretend she didn’t notice.

“Then let’s waste no more time here,” said Pillari, jerking on the mule and heading down the hill after Currun.  “Come along.”