Sephtis

13. A stranger.

( Eleutheros' normal, wingless form above )

It rains.

It has rained for so many days that our moat is filling up and the ground around our huts as turned to mud. Every day the youngsters of the village take the canoes across the rising water to the other side, to gather up large piles of grass to bring over to our goats, kept safe and warm within the animal shelter. It is too stormy for them to graze by the forest edge, under the watchful eye of goatherds all day. Even our few horses are restless, in their high enclosure by the wheat field. But there is an exhilaration to the rain: yesterday the village people put out pots to collect the clean water, and played and danced naked in the downpour to wash themselves. I saw the youths wrestling among themselves for sport, and I saw a stranger was with them. He was slender and strong, white and shining in the rain. I was soon to learn that the strangers name was Eleutheros, a pledge son from a far neighboring village, sent here as an act of peace and good will. He had arrived here just before the rain.

Droug is in great pain. A fever burns within him, and the leg above his foot is turning black. Horiki comes and goes all night with his potions and his worried looks, an in the hours just before dawn, Taaroko stands beside the kings' furs and chants multiple prayers. During the day, our sleeping hours, Morag slides beneath Droug's sleeping-furs with him, this I know because he screams at her if she disturbs his foot. By nightfall she is always in her own bed, and we are all weary from disturbed rest.

Horiki is with the king now, deciding with the priest what is to be done with his injured foot. There is talk among the people that they will cut the foot of. But I know that Droug would rather die then be a cripple forever. The village people  blame me for this catastrophe, and no one will speak to me. Even Merikh has been leaving me alone. So I sit here in the rain by my canoe, on the moat side of the spiked wall so no one can see me. I am sorely tempted to paddle across and visit the wolves. But they will be in their den, and I do not know where that is. Warm it would be, with them.

There is a movement beside me. It is the stranger, Eleutheros, with rain like tears running down his face, and his golden brown hair is drenched, streaming water on the dark fur of his cloak. He wears a short tunic, brown as the earth, and his feet and legs are bare. He crouches in the mud with me, placing his spears on two stones, and then folds his hands in front of him. His hands are slender and strong. He is overall, beautiful.

He smiles, and I feel my insides fall apart

"I have in mind to go hunting," he says, as if he had known me forever, and these were not the first words he had uttered to me.

"What will you hunt?" I sign, water cascading down my arms and into my tunic from my moving hands.

"Hares, maybe a fox." He hesitates, then says, "I shall not hunt for wolves."

I blush, knowing that of course he would have heard of my offensive, forbidden act, would have heard all about the slave who ruined a king.

"I am not afraid wolf-woman." He says, and from his lips the name is not a mockery. "I was unsettled at first, for where I am from it is unheard of to run with the evil dog, but then I thought about how often what is said around a houses hearth is false, and misguided. And you looked so lonely sitting here in the rain."

I smile softly, for he has no idea how much his words have warmed me.

"Do you need comforting, Sephtis?" I look at him, and his eyes are grave. He is frowning a little, as if he cares what my answer is.

I shake my head, "No," I sign, "I have the wolves to comfort me." I pause then continue, "Perhaps comfort is not the word, it is company. Acceptance. Kinship."

"And you have that with those savage beasts?"

"Not with savage beasts," I sign. "With the wolves."

"It is the same thing wolf-woman."

"I think not, not from my acquaintance with them."

"You are a strange woman."

"I am of an enemy village, what else would you except?"

"I do not know what I expect of you, Sephtis, that is what beguiles me. Now, will you give me your blessing for the hunt to be successful?"

"Taaroko gives the blessings. According to him, I can only bring a curse."

"According to me, anyone who has run with wolves has courage, and a hunters heart. So I ask your blessing." He says this all with a simple smile upon his lips.

"Alright, I bless your hunting."

He smiles wider; his teeth are even and perfect, and when his lips are serious again, his eyes still smile. The rain is running into the hollows of his throat. He picks up his spears, then stands and hauls a canoe through the mud, down to the moat. The rain hisses on the water, and as he paddles across he is enveloped in mist.