7.3

The arrival of a peddler was as popular an event in Valasect as it was in Rochford proper.

She could recall foggily in her smaller head the festival air that even a fairly small trade caravan could bring. News from well past Viznove might be carried on the stranger’s tongue, and these tales could sometimes be of more value than whatever wares they peddled.

On more than one occasion in Jewel’s life travelers would offer tales and songs from distant lands for a night’s rest in the Rochford manor.

It was almost enough to make one forget the cheating greed that every peddler bore.

Almost, but not quite.

She was running back the way they had come to inform Bethica because now they were...

Well Jewel was not really sure why but the excuse to run just made it the thing to do.

Her greater self was making a bit of a parade of it herself. Jewel couldn't remember if that was planned beforehand or something her larger self must have decided in her absence. But there was presently much ado about her walking from the manor to the town square.

You could see the party of her household moving in something like a march. Smithson had already met up with them and she was supposed to return as well.

But it was hardly something to hurry overmuch.

Jewel was on track to come upon herself by way around the town, winding via the trails between the fields. The other children by silent and unsigned agreement made a game of it with her to weave and wind with the minimal disturbing of the crops.

To attempt the utterly impossible task of ambushing her greater self and her party.

It was a fool’s errand, no matter how stealthy any of them were, her senses in her wyrm self were far too sharp.

But she did not spoil the game for that.

No one was watching her close enough to catch her signs even if she wanted to.

Jewel could spot the wings and head of her greater self over the fences and tall wheat well before she saw the rest of the party.

And though those eyes were not looking anywhere near the route the children took she knew that already they were all known to her greater self.

A single ear had flicked in Jewel’s direction.

A subtle shift in the neck and wings.

Also the wind was at their backs and the scent had long since carried even though her larger self had not even parted her lips to taste the air.

Still she played her part in the game, feigning ignorance, black mane and shining scales on a neck tall as some of the younger trees along the road.

The sight was lost when the children dove into the towering heights of grains, still too green to harvest.

The rush of the tall heads of wheat swaying in the wind making the newly adopted game all the harder.

She and Dorota twisted and bent between the rising blades, trailing the slim clearance between the stalks. Moving as swiftly as they dared, slinking closer and closer until finally leaving the cover of fields for the shrubs and hedge, from here peeking around the leaves and branches Jewel could make out the rest of the entourage.

Her true wyrm self was walking with Muriel at her left and Smithson on her right.

Each fully armored for the captain of her footmen.

Paul, her ‘husband’ who confusingly also insisted on being her ‘father’ was a bit ahead of Jewel’s greater self, dressed up in dark metal armor with equally black cloth and leather between.

It had a thin, sparse plate. Leaving much of him exposed to strikes to the side, leg or arm. It would be barely better than the heavy cloth maile of a Rochford footman in melee. Honestly not much different to what her Father wore on parade.

Armour more for showing the idea of protection then the truth of it.

There was something else significant about the armor but Jewel could not pull it from her tiny head.

She approached with those children that had kept up with her. About half had split off and were already crowding towards the square to get a first sight of the peddler and their wares. The time for their ambush was upon them, as one the children knew what they must do and Jewel was one with them as they all shrieked in delight and charged the party!

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Jewel’s short legs beat into the dirt as she ran to meet with her larger self, breaking through the invisible edge where she was separate from herself. Like leaping into a wall of warmest water her wyrmflame washed over and filled her frail body with a fortifying warmth.

She’d hardly lost any that was held tightly inside through constant focus and discipline, but to be enveloped in the presence of her true self was welcome all the same.

It let her relax her hold on the wyrm flame.

Released from the struggle as it came effortlessly now from the core of her greater self.

The sudden expansion of her senses and the unfurling and enfolding completeness of her memory brought a peace that soothed every worry that had plagued her diminished self.

As easily as she walked on all fours Jewel ran and collided with her larger self in a hug. Soon followed by Albert, Dorata and the other children and Jewel for her part feigned shocked surprise and theatrical groans of pain as they each landed on her sides with blows that were barely noticeable let alone incapacitating.

It had interrupted the conversation with Jewel and the rest of her party but the joy of the village children was worth the distraction and when the hysterical giggles and squeals were done she slid from her larger self and settled in beside her gracefully swinging tail. The band of followers, their fun at its conclusion, now dissolved back to their own duties.

A dozen of Valasect’s youngest children lingered back to add a further trail to the entourage that was once more now ambling along towards the square.

But only Albert and Dorota were close enough to touch.

Jewel offered them a smile of thanks for joining her so close to her ‘mother’ that she knew still was a bit overwhelming for most despite the years she spent watching over them.

She wished to hold their hands.

And the impulse was action before she could stop herself and Dorota’s hand was clasped tight in hers so they could swing their arms as one with the light jog that was needed to keep up with the rest of the entourage.

She could not afford to smile openly and widely with her larger snout, but ‘Gem’ beamed like the sun with all the welcoming that she had felt for the walk down here.

In the joy of the moment the rest of the walk into the village blurred away.

The memories of what she was going to do were there.

She was still talking with Paul and Smithson about it.

But all of that was for her larger self to worry about.

Jewel could simply enjoy spending time with...

Her friends?

Both of her stumbled at the thought.

But that’s what the village children were.

They were her friends.

More friends than her larger self ever had.

It was barely a stalling moment, but where her larger self had to clamp down hard on that wondrously beautiful and somewhat distressing moment and press past it to the business that was coming?

As the smaller self Jewel could simply let the joy of it burst out of her chest and through her strange lumpy over-short throat to peel free from her lips and tongue in delighted trilling.

Laughter soon was joined by Albert and Dorota and a few of the other young kids.

And with the very same undeniable joy that Jewel could only express with her smaller self her heart took a sudden jealous turn and she bolted for the border.

Her friends joined her at a run already forming up into a new spontaneous game, probably some kind of chase or tag that would involve quite a lot of tumbling in the dirt.

They charged the invisible edge where she would stop having to be the stuffy lady of Valasect and the heir of Viznove and could just be-

Except Jewel felt her smaller self vanish past the reach of their shared experience.

She could still smell, see and practically feel the joy coursing off her.

She could tell that she had gained every single spark of joy and freedom she had sought.

It was as apparent as watching her own hands flex.

But Jewel was still here.

Having to be the larger self.

The ‘true’ self.

Left behind to wistfully watch the smug and slightly apologetic look, her ‘lesser’ form threw over her shoulder before tearing off around the corner of a fence and out of direct line of sight. Trailed by squealing youngsters shrieking in joy.

Jewel had to merely chuckle instead of scream in joy with them. Her own throat was far too long to let loose with the abandon her ‘daughter’ could afford.

Smithson laughed with her and picked up the conversation where they had paused when ‘Gem’ started squealing in laughter and running off to play some kind of chase game.

“Ah, I’m glad she’s getting along well with the villagers.”

Paul snorted and huffed with a similar sentiment.

But Jewel could only sigh and give herself a shake.

She never knew which one she was going to be when she parted from ‘Gem’.

But this was the first time she wished she was the smaller of the two.

Paul Finally went back to business.

“Five Pfennig says that the foreign mercenaries actually draw their blades at the sight of Jewel.”

Smithson shook his head.

“I’ll match ya, I say the Countess’ men prepared them better than that.”

Right.

Jewel was going to have to deal with the peddler.

And not just any peddler but a foreign peddler.