The morning air was so heavy with the scent of wildflowers, Sorcha could almost taste them. The gorse that grew outside the kitchen window was particularly sweet that morning. Sorcha thought about all the flowers she wished to plant in the garden one day, as she scrubbed the breakfast dishes. Her father did not want anymore flowers lining the house than they already had, so she would have to plant them in her new home. The home she would get after she married. If she married.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thought. Marriage was out of the question for her. She had to stay and help tend her family's small farm. And there was no man in the village who was of both marrying age and wasn't a boorish oaf.
She heard footsteps coming from the upstairs loft where her and her sister slept. It seemed like Aurnia had finally decided to get up. She couldn't help being a little annoyed by her sister's laziness. In recent years Aurnia had slacked off on her household chores.
"Nice of you to see the noon sun, I thought it would close to evening before you showed your face." She told her sister as she finished drying the last plate. She didn't bother to look at her.
"The sun's at ten o'clock, I have no want for your sass." Aurnia snipped back.
Sorcha held her tongue, not wanting to rouse a row like the one they had a fortnight ago. Instead she pulled her indoor apron off, which had been her mother's kitchen apron, and headed out the side door, to the side porch which held all the knacks and tools needed for the outdoors. On the rack built onto their house's wall laid gloves and her outdoor apron, her original working apron. As she put them on she thought of something her mother once told her, twelve years before.
"If you ever feel like arguin' with your sister, go outside and be with nature. It will calm you down. Somethin' about the green forests an' the rolling hills, it makes an Caird at peace." Her accent had been as thick and rough as ever.
"But mummy, I'm not a Caird, I'm a Durnin" four year old Sorcha replied. Her mother chuckled like she always did and patted her hair.
"Not in blood your not. You might have the Durnin red hair, but you have the spirit of a Caird. Remember that."
Remember it she did, for that was one of the few conversations she could remember having with her mother. She died a year later after suffering a miscarriage. But Sorcha shook that thought from her head too. She came outside to cheer up, not get sad. There was so much in her life that could have been, it was no use dwelling on it. So instead she tended to the vegetable garden.
From here she could no longer smell any flowers, only the dirt, the turnips, carrots, spinach, and artichokes. It wasn't as pleasant but it refreshed her mind. Working outside was always better than being in that small stuffy house.
It wasn't even that the indoors bothered her, just the cramped-ness of it. Outside there was so much room. Room for the freedom of walking long distances or running. Room to breathe. Room to temporarily run away from her small terrible life.
Sorcha's life was not terrible because it was small, she would be the first to admit that. But the smallness certainly didn't help the terribleness of it all. Not having a mother, having an elderly father and no brothers to help him with his work, living near a small village filled with middle aged mothers who sat around gossiping about each other and big headed young men who'd sooner laugh at a lady falling over than help her up. Nobody to talk to but her sister. It could drive one mad.
"Sorcha," her sister called from the side porch, "is father in the barn?"
"No he went into town today, to trade the turnips for milk." She brushed back her hair which had fallen in her face.
"Is that cow still not producing milk? Why doesn't he just sell it?" Aurnia sounded exasperated. Strangely so because she hadn't been the one trying to milk the cow for the past month.
"Who would buy a dairy cow that doesn't even produce enough milk for her calf?" Aurnia was smart enough to teach herself to write but she didn't know much about anything else.
"Well, it's getting harder to prepare meals without milk, cheese, cream, or butter." and she went back inside.
Sorcha sighed. She knew her father had to try to get something out of that cow, along with getting milk, but she hated when he went into the village alone. She finished tending to the vegetables and went about her other chores.
~ ~ ~
Later, in the evening when her father returned with all the turnips sold, a gallon of milk and a whole wheel of cheese, along with news that there was a buyer for the cow both girls were greatly surprised.
"Some nice young lad paid me three silver coins for all the turnips, said they were the best 'e'd ever tasted. I bought all this and still 'ad more than two of the coins left. Explained to 'im the situation of the cow and 'e said 'e'd buy 'er tomorrow if she was truly the size I described. Said she'd make for some good meat." He said as he put the horse in his stable. Aurnia sat on the stable door, swinging it back and forth from the wall.
"A nice lad? In the village? Impossible." Sorcha replied.
"That's what I was thinkin', but this lad didn't look like 'e was from around 'ere. 'e 'ad on too nice of shoes and pants. Probably a rich knights son, passing by."
"That would explain why he overpaid for a basket of turnips." Sorcha had seen enough money that equaled more than five gold coins- as that was what they had hidden under their house if anything bad should happen- but they were in bronze and copper coins. None of them had ever held a silver coin in their life, let alone owned three. They were all very thankful that a foolish stranger had happened to stop by the village that day, for they knew they wouldn't have to worry about food for awhile.
What none of them knew, was how much more thankful they'd be of that stranger in the following years.AN: thank you for reading! I don't know how often I'll be updating but I'll try to get the next chapter up soon.
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The Arrow of Fate
FantasyA short medieval fairytale that I was inspired to write when I heard the archery music on the app Game Pigeon. My friend said if I wrote this she would read it, I hope some of you will too! rating: K+ or T (unsure) Update: I probably will never fini...