The Winter Sun

Chapter 2

The sky was still clear when the stablemen stepped outside the barn. Their boots sank into muddy snow and the crip air flushing their cheeks and noises.

"I guess I won't see you tomorrow," Rid stated, disappointment written in his features as a haze escape his mouth.

He still hadn't swallowed the fact that Lach wouldn't participate in the Princess' ceremony. Though Lach knew, he would say his farewells to substantial money his family needed dearly, he couldn't help feeling his inside torn just at the thought of going there again.

Lach's eyes were stuck on the floor, hoping the tension in his jaw wasn't noticeable. "You guessed right."

The sandy-blond shrugged but wiped the defeat away with a smirk. "Wanna head to the tavern at least?"

Lach shook his head. "I have to run errands in the market. I promised mother."

"Well, if you promised mother," Rid sing-sang, tone filled with affectionate mockery. He bumped his fist on Lach's shoulder. "See you around," he threw before heading toward the animated streets. Lach went on the opposite direction.

Muddy snow expanded on the cobblestone streets of Ornuv. The market was filled with keen merchants screaming from their makeshift tables. Baskets full of carrots, cabbages, apples and other vegetables and fruits lucky to spring through the cold and frozen ground spread out across tables. At that time of the day, as the dull sun settled on the city, the baskets would be emptied, filtered by eager fingers keen to nourish their families.

The one thing salivating the mouths the most was meat. Animals were the ones in dire needs as winter sank into Ornuv. Livestock had seen better days. Pigs were gaunt feed on corn and soybeans that would barely spurred in the cold ground. Even the strong cows had lost their caliber, by showing off their emaciated silhouettes. However, neither of them could beat the haggard look of the pleading goats whose skin was melting down so much it had nothing to cling to or the wild chickens beating each other up for fraction of grains spared at them.

The merchants' voices echoed in the cold streets blending together in an attune harmony as they praised the greatness of their merchandise from the top of their lungs.

"Come on milady, here you will find the best chickens of Ornuv! Come on!"

"The juiciest fruits hailed from my farm!"

"Goat's milk and cheese! Goat's milk and cheese!"

Lach crept into the crowd of many color gathering around the farmer and his horde of clucking chicken. "Ornuv's best chicken here!" The farmer repeated over and over again, tiring his vocal cords until it was as tightened as the strings of a harp.

"How much?" Lach asked.

"Three silver coins," The farmer replied and his face fell down to the floor.

"Three silver coins?" Lach repeated slowly with a thick dark eyebrow raised so high it touched the line of his hair. The farmer nodded and the young bewildered man deepened his eyes in his hanging goatskin purse as emaciated as the goat itself. The aged leather revealed a thin string of bronze and the shy flicker of silver. "Why selling at a price so high?"

"Price is the price, young man. the crops are shy and dry. The Sun God hasn't blessed us with good harvest for ten winters now. We have naught to feed ourselves and our family," he revealed with a grave expression accentuating his deep lines of ages. He squeezed his purse as meager as the goat skin before he picked up the three pieces of silver. He had family obligations too. And thus, with tightness in his chest that he let go of the precious coins in the rugged palm of the farmer.