Silence in Sagas

15

"Thank you very much," Denevon said and turned his back to Hembug Hirsha—a tall, plump merchant who had gone to great efforts to buy the house.

He had showed up two days ago. Flustered and un-groomed. He called dibs on a house that wasn't even for sale. Denevon spent that whole evening fretting over how visible they must be to any and everyone who just walked by. He had a freak out and lost his head. It was then that Ismina started shouting at him. Oliwa and Arlos could hear it from upstairs (which might not say a lot, since the roofs, walls and floors in the house felt so paper-thin that they could give out at any moment). Her words seemed incoherent, but somehow, Ismina calmed Denevon down, and they all lived happily ever after.

No. Wrong. They didn't.

Oliwa was standing in between a moving load of backpacks.

"We're not bringing all of this," said Oliwa. She reached for a backpack.

Ismina turned to her. "No, I agree. We're not." She reached for a backpack.

Denevon stepped out of the door and out of his conversation with the merchant. Who was sweeping the floorboards.

Oliwa bet he could sweep the murky wood to its collapse.

"What are you doing?" said Denevon when he saw her and Ismina with each their bags.

"Speeding up the process a little," Ismina grunted and hauled another backpack into her hand. "And some help might've suited me very nicely right now."

Denevon frowned, but helped her nonetheless. "What do we need for the journey?"

Arlos came from behind the house. He was met with a peculiar gaze from Ismina. "Would it be wrong to ask what you were doing behind the house—? Forget it. There are twigs in your hair. What did you do in the bushes?"

Arlos might've flushed a little. Oliwa looked from Arlos to Ismina. "You probably do not want to know."

Arlos nodded seriously. "She's telling the truth, Ismi."

"Ismi?" Ismina raised both her eyebrows. "I'm gonna forget you ever called me that."

"It sounds like a sickness," said Denevon.

"Mom went Ismi."

Everyone turned towards Arlos. It felt like a lightening of silence had struck them all. Oliwa glanced at Denevon. Denevon was looking at Arlos with no expression or emotion. Ismina looked like she desperately wished to take a step back, out of this conversation and out of everything. Oliwa couldn't blame her. Oliwa kind of felt like doing the same thing.

Denevon was not the one to break the silence. It was Arlos who cleared his throat and it made them all look at him. "Let's just get back to the backpacks, shall we."

"Yes."

"Sounds good."

They took each their backpack.

"Okay," Denevon's voice was hoarse. "I see the problem. We can't possibly bring all of this, let's see..." He thought for a moment. "The ship," he said. "We'll store it in the ship."

"Oooh," Arlos slumped his shoulders forward and frowned in disdain. "That means we'll have to walk back there."

Denevon didn't laugh. "Well, son. The way to the castle is longer. There will be a lot of walking. Get used to it."

***

Oliwa remembered the ship she had woken up in as bigger. In truth, it was an old fishing boat. Not larger than her room at Notteny Castle.