Enlightenment

CHAPTER SIX

They woke cold and sore from sleeping on the hard stone floor and the lack of the blankets and sleeping mats they’d forgotten to buy the day before. Shortly after waking, El, the carpenter, beat on their door. He strode inside, made a few measurements, took notes, and inspected the inside of the roof. Back outside, he climbed a ladder he’d brought and walked around on the roof before climbing down.

Prin waited for the news, prepared for the worst and she considered seeking more estimates as her mother had warned her to do before hiring workmen. Always get another bid. As a lady in the Queens court, her mother had observed many business transactions before moving to the seclusion of the Earl’s castle in the Darkling Forest.

However, the man she greeted wore a lopsided grin and said, “Good news. The roof is sound for many more years. Oh, it needs a few minor repairs, but all are quick and will cost almost nothing.”

Now, for the bad news, Prin thought, and the increase in price. He's being nice, so we’ll accept the higher bid for the other work and think it a good price. “The loft?”

“Good news there also. The walls of the building are solid, the floor is, too. The loft that burned left behind the stone supports that held up the last loft, which is a little larger than you asked for, but will be far cheaper to build because I can duplicate the previous construction and reuse the existing bracing.”

“Show me,” Prin said, understanding about every third word.

He pointed to the wall above her. She hadn’t noticed a lip of stone running around the three walls, as wide as her hand, and apparently made for beams to sit upon. He pointed to places on the stone floor where timbers and once stood upright to support the center of the loft.

“The cost?” she said.

“I warn you, the cost may be more than my original estimate, but only because you may add to it. And you mentioned adding cabinets, tables, and storage on the ground floor that are not included in the original bid. Neither are the windows that open that you mentioned, but I don’t think you’ll need them. All that can come later.”

“I want the windows,” she persisted.

He pointed to the ones high on the wall. “Those are small, but they do open, and there are a lot of them. Tell you what, if we get the deck of the loft built and you want to add larger windows, we can do it then. That’s when we would, anyhow. But I think you’ll be happy with them as they are.”

“The cost?” she asked again, more insistently.

He gave her a price of less than half of what she expected to pay, and that would be after bargaining the price lower. He said, “Again, if the previous loft hadn’t left the supports we need, the price would be three times what it is.”

“When can you start?”

“I have another job this morning, but I can start on the roof by this afternoon. And I can order the materials for the loft to be delivered late today, at least most of what I’ll need. None of it is rare or unusual, so it’s readily available.”

Prin held out three coins. “For the materials and initial work. We’ll pay the rest when we are satisfied, my father said.”

El said, “I can see he’s taught you well. In your land, do you shake hands to confirm a deal?”

She reached out and took his large hand in hers. Just to let him know she was stronger than she looked, she gave it a hard squeeze. He was enough of a gentleman to wince as if she’d hurt him, which drew a surprised look from Sara.

Prin said, “I think we should go shopping again. Back to the bazaar.”

“What for?”

“Food. I’m starving. And chairs. I miss chairs. And blankets.”

Sara said, “Then we also need a desk for you. And candles. You need to work on writing and then reading every day.”

They went to the bazaar and found grilled sausages, pies and weak ale for breakfast. Both wore their ugly tan dresses but found small items in the market to decorate and make them more cheerful. Sara used imitation flowers made of thin colorful material pinned to her shoulders, and Prin bought a bright red belt.

They encountered another of the Order of The Iron Ring and thinking it was the one they met the previous day, called out to him. However, he responded quickly and introduced himself, and said he knew of them and would help with anything they needed. Prime told him of the robbery in their house, and he offered to look for the thief.

“They didn’t take anything of value,” Sara said.

“But, they did,” he responded. “They took sanctuary and your trust.”

“We ordered new locks,” Sara snapped harshly.

“See?” He shrugged as if that explained it all.

They returned with armloads of purchases to wait for the carpenter or the delivery of the building materials. Prin explored the small yard in the rear of their building that was surrounded by a hedge that blocked off a view from the street, yet allowed the afternoon sun to strike it. Chalmers had referred to it as a garden, as if the building was a palace with carefully tended grounds.

The remains she found were of a vegetable garden where a few carrots and onions had managed to go to seed and grow. Sara pointed out that all five of the trees were fruit trees, and in the shade of one tree sat a sturdy bench large enough for two. Sara used a piece of wood from the scrap pile for a backing to rest on her knees and carried the ink and a few sheets of paper outside.

Prin’s formal education began in the garden. Sara hadn’t had the opportunity to teach her much of reading and writing before they fled, and since then they had been far too busy, but now she changed from a friend into a taskmaster. While Prin had been proud of the letters she’d learned on her own, the knowledge didn’t begin to satisfy Sara.

Sara made her repeat each letter and their sounds out loud, acting more of a disciplinarian than the crow that had corrected her at the tree in the forest. Each stroke of her pen had to agree with the little chart they’d purchased, and after she had grown tired of an exercise, Sara moved her on to another.

She printed pairs of letters and had Prin pronounce how they should sound together. On the following day, Prin was again working in the overgrown garden after the rest of the lumber for the loft had been delivered and placed inside via the carriage doors at the end of the building. The new locks were delivered, the roof had been repaired, and the work on the loft was well under construction by a crew of four.

Prin said, “Your knife is supposed to be ready today.”

“Are you trying to get out of reading?”

“Yes. I’ve thought of something else we need, too.”

“Which is?”

“Treeman.”

Sara laughed, “That tree you probably killed by throwing your knife so many times at it?”

“And I still need practice. But you need to learn. And I warn you, I’ll be as hard on teaching you as you’ve been on me.”

“I don’t want to throw at a fruit tree. I’m looking forward to the apples later this summer and the cherries and plums next year.”

“I talked to El this morning. He’s going to use a soft wood to make us a new treeman, a target we can use inside.” Prin went back to work on her reading and writing.

Two days later, the loft was decked, and the walls were going up. El presented them with the new Treeman, a target vaguely shaped like a man. Sara wore her new scabbard and knife. But, more importantly, Prin sounded out her first word, bat. After reading ships days earlier, there had not been time or opportunity to continue.

She sat by herself on the bench under the tree, knees pulled under her chin, looking at the letters and sounding each, and then slurring them together. Bbb-aa-tt. Bat. She hadn’t checked with Sara but knew it was right. She replaced the B with an R. Rat. Rat, bat, rat, bat. Rat, she now knew another word.

A peg slipped into a hole in her mind with those two words. She yanked herself back from daydreaming and tried fitting other letters in front of the AT, and soon she was printing sat, cat, mat, and pat. Six words. The concept of reading filled her will joy, and when Sara approached, she didn’t want to stop long enough to look up and reveal that she could read six words.

Three days later, the loft was finished, all but whitewash, and El collected the final payment from a girl who was almost too busy reading to spare him the time to pay. Fortunately, Sara was so pleased with his work she also ordered cabinets, shelves, and worktables. The area under the loft was transformed into workbenches that circled the three sides of the building, while two more ran parallel in the center. Under them were crude shelves and cabinets, and more were on the walls.

The new Treeman was stood inside the storage area, and Prin took the breaks her eyes demanded and used it for practice. El had placed an old shirt over the chest for the target. Prin made Sara practice the same as her, and already the front of Treeman was showing signs of the number of times their throws were accurate. The wood was soft, spruce or fir, the body the size as that of a man, the bark removed, and a crude head, belt, and red heart painted in the appropriate locations.

They were set with a place to live, rooms, security, and each day, they made the building a little more like Home. Sara complained about throwing continually. Her arm was sore. She had other tasks to do. Throwing knives was not for women. She was not learning.

Prin retrieved the knives from Treeman again, but instead of handing Sara hers, she said, “Listen, I was a helpless little girl when they killed my father, and again when the killed Sir James and William. Helpless. I swore that would never happen again. I do not have the skills to fight, not yet, but I dare anybody wishing to do me harm to stand five and a half steps from me.

She let her knife fly. Sara silently reached for hers. Treeman died another hundred times before they rested.

Things were going well when a knock on their door found a member of the Order of the Iron Ring standing politely outside. It was the one they’d met on their first day in Indore. He held the leather satchel that had been stolen. “This is yours?”

Prin accepted the leather bag and found it empty, which was expected, but there had been nothing of real value inside. “Yes, thank you. Can I offer you water? Or Bread?”

He shook his head. “No, I must get back to work. My order is suddenly very busy. We are sworn to hunt for a girl, an eleven-year-old with yellow hair. Have you seen one that fits that description?” he raised his eyebrows in question.

They’re here. “No, I haven’t,” she said, heart pounding.

“You, as I recall are thirteen, and your hair is not yellow, even if you allowed it to grow out, I’m sure. Besides, you were here before the runaway girl departed from another land. Still, the rewards offered are substantial and it would not due to be mistaken for her.”

Her hand went to her head and felt the soft hair that had regrown to a blonde stubble. His face remained impassive, and she knew he’d remain silent about her, but he brought her bag, and with it, a warning. “What has this girl done? Only eleven and bounty hunters are after her?”

“I wouldn’t know, but it does sound like the girl has done nothing but exist. She has not had time in this life to do much to anyone, when you think about it. But it is not ours to question our benefactors.”

Sara had come silently up behind them and listened. She said, “There was a girl I heard about. Yellow hair, traveling alone, I think, as I remember the story. She was acting odd. Like she was in a big hurry.”

He tilted his head as if listening carefully.

“It was the same day we met you, I think. I heard about her in the bazaar. Because of her young age and because she was getting on a ship alone, a woman noticed and wondered where a little girl like that would be going.” Sara stopped talking and waited.

He said, “I wouldn’t expect you to remember the name of the ship, or other details. You would have no reason to, or I would question your information as being too much for the truth.”

“No,” Sara said. “I wouldn’t know any of those details. I’m surprised I remember that much. Really, it’s no more than a rumor told by a dark-haired woman of about twenty-five on the street in the bazaar. You may have seen her in the bazaar a few times, but I’d know nothing about.”

“I will report what that woman saw. It’s my duty to pass on all rumors of this girl.” He nodded once and turned away. He turned back, “It seems that everyone in Indore is searching for that girl. She must be careful, or she will be found. The rewards are great.”

Sara pushed the door closed and fell back against it as if she would collapse on weak knees.

Prin said, “My head needs to be shaved again. The blonde hair shows.”

Sara said, “Mine too. Then we need to go shopping.” She paused, drew the knife from her scabbard and in a single motion let it fly at Treeman. It struck handle first and clattered to the stone floor.

“Shopping for what?” Prin asked.

“Remember that big ugly dog you wanted?”