The Dark Days

Chapter One

 "Ten years and you finally fall apart." My sigh is long and dejected as I hold the broken cage. Papa had brought this fish cage home the morning after Isaac was born and now it needed to be mended. It wouldn't be hard to mend but that meant I needed to cut my day short to go home, to fix it.

Holding the cage gate open, I flip it over and empty the four fish it had caught into the stone basin beside the river. The fish swam around, completely in the dark about their impending doom while I drizzled valerian root powder and minced garlic cloves over the water of the basin. Let them swim in that for a few minutes while I readied myself to go home.

The icy river bites against my bare thighs as I wade around the basin and climb onto the small sandy clearing, stepping onto the stones and using the hem of my dress to dry my legs. We were too close to winter for any of the grass to still be alive. In fact, I was surprised that so many trees still had leaves. Usually, around this time of the year, I could see our cottage all the way from the river. Something told me that this winter would be the worst one we've had in decades.

I plop down onto the ground, careful of the fallen twigs and stones, to survey the full damage of the cage. We certainly don't have the money to replace it. The cage was salvageable with some twine and fire to melt the twine together, maybe even some wax. I'll sort it out when I get home. I shove it to the side, get to my feet, and peer over the stone basin.

The fish have all gone belly up. I use the banana leaves from my satchel to wrap each fish, this method saves my satchel from the eventual fish smell. In total, I caught eight fish for the day, which was a good day. I could have gotten more, I was sure of it.

I would keep three at home for two nights' meals. I'll trade another two for meat and the remaining three for flour. Mama and Nana liked making bread to eat with the stew and the soups.

All that meant I'd need to come back tomorrow because I wouldn't be able to give anything to the village Food Stocks. That never went well with Lord Barrow. He'd been watching us obscenely closely ever since Papa had died three years ago. So unnervingly eager to marry me off the second I became presentable enough to sell off.

A groan echoed across the river and cut through my train of thought. Another groan and then a whimper of pain. It was coming from the other side of the river. I packed the wrapped fish into the broken cage and hid the cage between exposed tree roots at the base of the tree closest to the river bank.

It could have been a trap, I knew. Or a trick laid by some man hoping to lure an unprotected woman into that dark forest. But the whimper of pain was so real, that it had to be real. This clearing had been my daily visit for years and I'd never heard a single sound, human or otherwise, from that side.

I patted around my waist to check for the knife I had holstered to my belt with my water skeins before I hitched up my dress and strode across the river. If it was a trick, I wouldn't go quietly.

Once on the other side, I slipped on my shoes and followed the whimpering sounds of pain. I kept the river at my back, walking slowly, and could still hear the rushing water by the time I spied the source of the sound. It was a man, on the ground, with his leg caught in an animal trap. The trap was cutting into the muscle of his calf.

I knew about that trap and the dozen others that lay scattered in this area. Papa had been a part of the men who had placed them here to keep the bigger animals from venturing too close to the river we used for fishing and water when our boreholes ran dry. That was Papa's trap now tearing that man's leg apart.

I moved towards the man slowly, trying not to startle him as I lowered my hood and kept my hands up in front of me, just as I would to an injured animal.

"I can release your leg from the trap and bind it, if you'll allow me to," I spoke calmly and clearly. The man was frantic, his eyes darting around and wide from the pain. His face was pale, draining of colour and his eyes were brown, and huge. He needed my herbs and he needed them now.

He said something in a language I couldn't understand. The words rolled off his tongue and I couldn't tell if he would be agreeable or disagreeable to my help. I continued approaching him and when he didn't seem hostile towards me, I took the chance.

I sank to my knees, hands still raised palm up, my brown eyes never leaving his brown eyes. He looked old enough to have been Papa's age, with the crow's feet around his eyes and white streaks in his hair. He lived a life filled with happiness and laughter, that's what I chose to believe anyway. I knew where the release pin was, Papa had shown me how these traps were made so that I'd always know how to release it and set it again, if need be.

Without breaking eye contact, I reached down and pushed the pin on the side further into his already wounded leg. He winced and when the pin popped back out, I pulled the thing out entirely. The trap slid open and before the man could jump away, I raised a hand to stop him.

He understood I meant for him to wait a moment. There was no point in saying it aloud, we couldn't understand each other. Gently, I pulled the trap away from his leg, freeing up the two cuts on either side of his calf. Within a heartbeat, I reset the trap and moved it aside. I passed him my water skein, it had mint and valerian root powder mixed into it.

I gestured that he should drink it and when he hesitated, I took a sip of it first. I didn't know how else to show him it wasn't poisoned and that he should drink it. This was enough to convince him. He took a few mouthfuls while I focused on his wounds again. In one of the pouches attached to my belt, there was a salve I'd created. A mixture of turmeric and honey.

For its healing properties and thankfully, it made a paste. The salve would clean the wound of infection and begin knitting healthy tissue together within hours. I rubbed a thick layer of the paste on the wounds then wrapped his calf in the last two banana leaves I had. I secure the leaves by tying the ends together and putting some of the salve on them as well. The honey would harden in this cold weather.

The man handed my water skein back and he looked a bit drowsy. But no longer in pain, I chuckled at the aloof expression he wore. My smile dropped quickly when we heard branches snap behind him. There were more people out here. He called over his shoulder and there was a response in his language. His people were here for him. I nodded and I knew he called for me as I turned and ran back to the river. My job was done.

I crossed the river, picked up my cage of wrapped fish and headed home.