Page 22 of Thief of Roses
“Names are power, Baró, and you have all the power here.”
“Nay,”he said,“what thou seest as power ys naught but mine abylytie to be useful.”
X.
“Half the storeroom?”He asked when she told him her plans.“Thou shalt be ynundated wyth jars.”
“I would rather have too many than too few.”She had been a little embarrassed to make the request but much of it would be for his benefit and she would not indulge in feeling shame for something she meant to do out of industrious consideration.“Can it be managed?”
He took a few moments of deep concentration, unmoving and eyes closed, before he redirected his gaze back to her.“Let us see.”
“Come on!” She acted as if he had made her a present of an ermine cloak or a gem-encrusted brooch.She raced to the buttery door and bounced as he took his time following her.
“As thou hast not been forthcoming, what dost thou plan for them?”
“Everything,”she explained unhelpfully, heading down the stairs when he was close enough.“Salves, perfumes, oils, and balms, unguents, creams,”she called over her shoulder.“The flowers and herbs here are so fragrant and bountiful that I am sure I could make enough for our use and enough to sell when I leave.And!”She reached the bottom and watched him lumber down the stairs.“I thought I would dry some meat for you.And bake some of the garden offerings for future eating.We have the winter to think about if the magic dries up.”
“Thou art plannyng on keepyng us stocked yf we can no longer use the Magyc.”
“Yes and...”She twisted her hands.“I am only here for a year and a day.I know you can return to foraging and hunting, but at least there will be food if you need.”She pointed to the network of scars over his abdomen.“Those took time to heal and it could not have been easy trying to hunt with such wounds.”
“Y grew gaunt and bonie from dyet of rodent.Y should much lyke to avoyd repetytionne.”
“I am offering a solution.”She turned her back on him, went through to the storage area, and exclaimed.
“Art there enough?”He followed her.
A mountain of glassware now resided in the cellar.
“I hope so!”She began filling her skirt with jars.“I don’t know what you had to do to conjure them, but thank you.I cannot promise that I will not need to make another request, but I will try not to.”
“Yf thou needest, ask.Y may not be able, but Y will do what Y can.”
She returned to gathering jars to fill her skirt.She smiled watching Baró gathering them too.He had more grace than one might expect of his size, but the small and precarious jars rested awkwardly in his arms.
“Not too many.I will run out of room for them upstairs,”she said as she indicated her return to the kitchen.
“Yf thou art yntent on mete preservationne, hast thou seen the vegetable garden or orchard?”
“I saw peas the other day.I can investigate that on my own, but I would be interested in a tour of the orchard.”
“Y can shew thee, but trees and grass art all that exyst, nothing to meryt a tour.”
When back in the kitchen, she emptied the contents of her skirt, smiling wearily at the literal interpretation of her words.He warned her about speaking imprecisely and though she understood it, it tried her patience.
“Would you take me there then and keep company with me?”
“‘Twolde be mooste agreeable, but art thou not yet tyred of me?”
“Did you not witness me those days before we met?”She headed for the door.”Do you not recall that I talk to everything, all the time?By right, you should be tired of me.Come.Show me.”She let him take the lead once outside.“Some days I will be engaged in tasks that require all my attention, and some days you will wish for your freedom from me and take long jaunts in the forest lest I find other occupations for you.If I am tired of your company, Baró, I will not be shy in telling you that I need space.”
The slow pace and hissilence offered her opportunity to think of a hundred intrusive questions.She opted to pick flowers on the way as a distraction.Well, maybe just one intrusive question...She hoped that being content with his company would make him more receptive rather than think of her as a long-nosed busybody.
“Baró,”she began, already quite comfortable with the name she had given him,“you said that you do not know if you are the Fir’Darl.”She trotted up beside him.The pace may have been slow, but his strides were long.“What are you then?”
He stopped without warning and turned to look at her.He moved just enough that she stopped her progress before she crashed into him.She worried her lip, realizing that such a question might be too sensitive, too delicate, too sore.Would he snap if she probed too much?Would his animal exterior finally align with his actions?
He laughed.
