Worried about oversleeping in the safe, dark confines of the shed, I had set an alarm to wake us up around sunrise–but I needn’t have; Yojoti’s hunter instincts had him sitting up and nudging me awake minutes before the ringtone began blaring.
I’ve never understood how “primitive” people could possibly wake up before dawn without something like an alarm. And I still don’t. I would have continued sawing logs for at least another hour, if left to my own devices. I’ll chalk that up to magic. I sure don’t think it’s natural to wake up without the sun shining in your face after all of the marching we do.
Rousing ourselves out of the pitch dark of the shed into the pre-dawn glow, we relieved ourselves on opposite sides of the shed before wordlessly packing up our bedrolls and parking ourselves on upturned buckets next to the smoldering fire.
Yojoti broke the silence with a single syllable, “Tea?”
I nodded and poured a few cups of water into his pot, and piled some of the Everburn onto the embers. It went up like–well, like Everburn–and before long the water was at a simmer. Yojoti removed the pot from the heat and then pinched some leaves from an oilcloth pouch into it. Once the water had darkened, he poured half into the collapsible steel cup I held out to him, then sipped his brew directly from the pot.
I was never a huge fan of tea back home, but this is wonderfully warm and smooth. There isn’t any flavoring, but I imagine there are a good number of vanillins in these leaves. I hope it’s not very expensive–we’ve shared a cup or two just about every other day out here–that would just be one more thing I’d be indebted to him for. Not that I mind accepting the hospitality of a friend, I just don’t want to be a burden either. Oh well, I’ll probably have opportunities to return these favors in the future.
Crimson rays broke over the horizon, scattering the last of my drowsiness. I poured the dregs out of the cup, snapped it shut, and closed it into my mess kit before clipping it to my pack, then stood up to begin packing up in earnest. Yojoti poured the rest of the tea over the fire, setting it to steam, before shoveling dirt on top of that, then moved off to complete his own packing.
“Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning,” right? High barometric pressure that way means we’ve got low pressure coming from the West, and probably a storm. It’ll be good for the rainwater collection, I suppose. We’re heading North, so it’ll probably run right across us before the day is out. We’ll just have to find the least soggy patch to lay out on, even if we might be able to get the Everburn to light for cooking. Now’s the time to be grateful for the sheltered sleep last night, I guess. And a waterproof tarp.
The sled was reloaded amidst my thoughts: four water jugs at the bottom, along with the spade shovel and other tools, topped with the furs. I withdrew the poncho from my pack and threw it over the top, to keep the worst of the rain off of the furs. Ideally, I’d wear the poncho and use the tarp for the sled, but if it continues raining into the night, I would need to swap them. That would be so much hassle. I’ll use the tarp as a poncho once the rain starts.
The sun had risen two fingers over the horizon by the time we had finished packing, and I closed the padlock on the shed door. Yojoti stood, waiting, as I checked the knots tying the sled to the frame of my pack, before hefting it onto my back and stepped toward him. We spread out into our observation formation as we headed North, toward…Ah, Holsworthy. Gotta remember that name.
-
Hours later, the shed was completely out of sight over the horizon. The storm clouds, however, took up more and more of my peripheral vision. Yojoti had drifted closer in the last mile, and I raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
“Any game is likely huddled in its burrow ahead of the storm, cozy and dry. We won’t need to keep as much of a lookout. Which is just as well, since I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh? What about?” I inquired.
His eyes turned back ahead of us. “What you’ll do after we arrive. I’ll be able to spend a day or two resupplying, but then I’ll have to head right back out for another trip.” He glanced over at me, “Have you had any further ideas?”
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“To be honest, no,” I responded with a defeated slump of my shoulders. “This situation is so far beyond anything I know, I have no clue what the next step could be. I don’t even know how–” I cast around for the word “employment” in Ozryn, but came up empty. Looking over at Yojoti, I asked “What is the word for doing work for someone else?”
“A contract?” He asked, but I shook my head. He had just taught me that word the previous day.
“No, the state of being in a contract with the person you work for,” I explained further.
“Ah!” He exclaimed, one finger coming up to aim at me, “You mean ‘employed’!”
“Yes, employed,” I repeated back. “I don’t know how being employed works here. Are people paid by the hour? Or a fixed amount in a month?” I tapped Yojoti’s shoulder with the back of my hand, “By the way, what would be the word for that? Receiving a fixed amount of pay no matter how much time you spent working?”
Yojoto responded “Beats me!” with a laugh. “I’ve never worked for anyone else, so that kind of ______ is foreign territory to me.”
“That kind of what?” I asked about the unfamiliar word.
“Oh, it means things that are only slightly different, in small details,” came his answer.
So it’s like “nuance” from French, got it.
I filed the new word away. “Is there anyone you would recommend I speak to in town to learn about this?”
“I don’t, but the innkeeper would.”
“I understand.”
We walked in silence for a few more minutes, keeping a weather eye to the West, where the thunderhead had gone anvil-shaped at the top, and covered more than half of the sky. Lightning could be seen against the tower of white, as well as within curtains of rain which ranged from “ash” to “gunmetal” pouring onto the plains from below.
As the first, faint rumblings made their way to us, Yojoti opened a new conversational route. “Depending on our pace, we should reach town sometime in the mid afternoon. Our first stop will be the Furrier; that shouldn’t take more than an hour. Tenal makes a good bargain and knows me well enough to only have to count once.” Yojoti chuckled and continued, “Then we’ll collect our reward at Highway Safety–you don’t mind splitting that, do you?”
“Of course not,” I replied earnestly, “I would be willing to give you all of it, for all the help you’ve given me!”
Yojoti waved away the offer then reached over to grasp my shoulder and continued, “After that, we head to the tavern! How do you feel about sharing a room?”
“That depends, how many beds are in a room?” I replied, raising my eyebrows.
“Haha! A double room can be arranged,” he quipped, “though I’ve never had an audience before.”
“Ah okay! Okay! Two rooms it is, then!” I emphatically headed off any further conversation in that direction.
Eesh, I’ve never liked the idea of watching, either. I haven’t had sex since Patricia died, though. And the vasectomy earlier that year means I can’t sire any children. That just leaves the possibility of contracting some alternate-world STI, which definitely doesn’t sound fun. But maybe there’s magic to deal with that? Even if there is, I don’t know. Logically, there would be no betrayal, because Patricia isn’t alive to BE betrayed. I still feel icky about it, regardless. Well, not a decision I have to make right now, anyway.
Yojoti continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said, “The next day, we’ll stop by the smith to check over our gear and replace some of these arrows.”
“Yojoti,” I interjected, “I would like to visit the mercantile before spending everything away at the tavern. My clothes…”
“Oh yes! You definitely need a change of clothes, my friend; another pair of trousers and a good shirt should do nicely.”
I nodded and added, “I would also like to see what supplies are available for camping, just in case I cannot find employment and have to come back out with you.”
Yojoti’s sidelong glance spoke volumes. “Here’s hoping it won’t come to that. I think every rabbit, fox, and coyote in the grasslands knows your footfalls by now, haha!”
The laugh didn’t really lessen the sting, but I guess it’s just as well. I seriously don’t want to continue this lifestyle forever, even if I were to become better at it. For one thing, look at that storm! It’ll hit any minute, and we’ll probably be drenched for the rest of the trip. Now is probably a good time to dig that tarp out.
“Hey,” I caught Yojoti’s attention and pointed to the West. He nodded and donned his oilcloth cloak from his pack as I pulled the crinkling blue sheet over my head. Not long after, the first drops began to patter on the polyester.