Notes: It's all going to come together, darlins...
Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards Ch. 16 Pt. 1
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Chapter Sixteen, Part One
Threading
Hiram was starting to get concerned by the time Letty’s knock finally sounded against the front door. He’d assumed she’d be here as bright and early as she normally was, ready to hound him through the second half of his first cup of tea and whatever he’d scraped together for breakfast, then out the door like it was a Market Day. The fact that he had time for not one but two full cups of tea, a piece of toasted bread with soft, melting sheep’s cheese slathered on top, and a full groom of Knight left him wondering if he needed to go and get her.
But then came the knock, and Hiram exhaled his anxiety and went to open it. He found himself staring at the entire gaggle of children from Letty’s household—everyone but Jem was there, from ten-year-old Millie, quiet and dark-haired, to the frowning face of seven-year-old Clyde, to Rickie, all the way down to Baby Davey, who was just coming up on one, if Hiram remembered correctly. He blinked in confusion and looked at Letty, who was holding the baby with a determined smile on her face.
More of a manic grin, honestly. She was smiling so stiffly and fiercely that it had to hurt her cheeks a bit.
“Good morning, Master Emblic!” she said, too bright and too loud. Oh, something was wrong, something was decidedly wrong, but he couldn’t ask her about it in front of all her siblings. Not when she was trying so hard to make them think everything was all right. “Pa gave us all the day off to go with you to see the Thread. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Utterly lovely,” he said. He meant it, too. Anything that got all those kids out of that miserable house was a good thing, and he’d always been fond of children. He glanced down at Rickie and smiled, and was relieved when the little boy stepped inside like he didn’t have a concern in the world. It was like a spell broke, and the rest of them relaxed enough to come inside when he stepped back as well. “I was just finishing breakfast, but there’s some extra if anyone is hungry.”
Clyde sniffed the air. “Issat Fremont cheese?”
“Fresh from the last market,” Hiram said.
“I want some—ow!” Clyde rubbed his shoulder where Letty whapped him. “He asked!”
“It doesn’t matter if he asked, you mind your manners,” she scolded him. “And we should really get going if we want to make it to the town square before all the fun is over.”
She had a point, but Hiram wasn’t about to let this little flock of children go hungry. “The bread will be stale after this morning,” he said, pointing to the large loaf on his countertop. “You’re doing me a favor helping me eat it, honestly.”
Letty rolled her eyes but accepted it. “I’ll cook it up, though,” she said challengingly. “Otherwise this one will hound you for more and more cheese until there’s none left for anyone else.” She went to hand the baby to Millie, who Hiram noticed was staring longingly at Knight in his bed in the corner.
“Allow me,” Hiram said, reaching out for the little tyke. “I promise not to drop him,” he added when Letty hesitated, which made her scoff and her siblings giggle. “And you’re welcome to go play with Knight,” he added to Millie. “I’m sure he’s missed you.”
She just nodded, a blush flooding her cheeks, then hurried over to the corner. Letty started cooking, Clyde stayed with her to help cut bread and “inspect the cheese,” and Hiram sat down in his chair with Baby Davey on one hip and looked around with a helpless smile. It was nice, having so many people in his home. He’d never been one to isolate himself, always part of a crowd back when he was Xerome, but Lollop had been different. Maybe once all the fuss over the damn Tower was over he could change that more permanently, reach out to Avery more often, perhaps even bring him home and—
Rickie tugged the edge of his tunic with one little hand. “Esme?” he whispered.
“Outside,” Hiram whispered back. “Hunting, I think.” She’d mentioned something about being peckish last night, not in the mood for her usual prey, and Hiram hadn’t seen her since. He assumed she was off stalking a wild boar, perhaps even a wolf—just not another Imperial messenger, for the sake of all that’s Holy.
“Oh.” Rickie looked a bit sad. Hiram cast around for an idea that would liven him up, and—
“What do you think about bringing Knight to Lollop with us?” he asked.
Four pairs of eyes immediately turned his way, while Baby Davey happily gummed his own fist. “What do you mean?” Letty asked a bit warily.
“Just as an outing for him,” Hiram soothed. “Something he might find a bit more interesting than another day inside with me or limited to the garden. Plus, that way he’d get to spend some more time with you all. I know he’s missed you.” He meant it, too. Knight didn’t pine, precisely; not in the way a horse or dog might. But there were times when he lay down heavily on Hiram’s feet and refused to get up, or when he’d shove his face into Hiram’s hip and sigh, his ears low and droopy. Hiram knew the signs of a longing heart well enough to recognize it in others.
“He needs a harness of some kind,” Letty said after a moment.
“I can make one!” Millie stood up eagerly, finally meeting Hiram’s eyes. “If you’ve some scrap cloth or extra ribbon, Master Emblic, I can make a harness and a lead for him.”
Hiram would rip one of his shirts into scraps right now if it meant keeping the children happy. Fortunately… “I’ve got ample scraps from restocking my jars,” he said, pointing to a basket on the bottom level of the cabinet. “See if anything in there suits. If not, we’ll figure it out.”
“Finally!” Clyde exclaimed. Hiram turned to watch him snatch a piece of bread out of his sister’s hand and begin to scarf it down, despite how the cheese on top still steamed. “Ow—um—s’goo, Le’y.”
“You’re such a little barbarian,” Letty said, pushing her brother away from the stove. “Eat slower so you don’t choke!”
It took another half an hour for all the food to be consumed, the harness and lead to be made, and the wagon to be tied up to Mule, who seemed delighted to be pulling a load of children around. He even let Millie give his nose a tentative kiss and put his bridle on, while Rickie stood a few feet away with Knight frolicking by his side.
“I think she might be a good candidate for the Thread,” Letty whispered to Hiram as they watched. “As a Druid or a Ranger. She’s the best with the rabbits by far; they always calm down when she’s around.”
“Hmm. She’s a bit young yet,” Hiram said.
“Younger is better than being too old, like me.”
Who told you that? Letty would be on the older side for an initiate, but she was far from aged out of the Thread’s considerations. Hiram saw the sheen of tears in her eyes and laid a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Letty, did something happen at home?”
Letty bit her lower lip and wiped her eyes. “No, nothing. Everything’s fine, it’s like it always is. Pa’s just…” She heaved a shuddering breath. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”
They went, trundling down the road together. The children were relaxed and merry, for the most part, but Hiram could feel the tension in them ratchet up as they went by their dark, silent house. What had happened in there? Where was their mother? What had their father done?
Hiram pushed aside his curiosity as they reached the edge of Lollop. Now was a time for good cheer and celebration; Threads were about more than finding appropriate candidates to serve the Gods with their sparks. They were mobile festivals, moments of connection and outreach, a “thread” to tie the outer reaches of the Vordurian Empire back to its heart in Galenish. They were times of music and celebration, fun and exciting spells, animal showmanship, and healing charity. They were delightful…or, they should be.
As they entered the town square, Hiram immediately determined that this had to be the dullest, most downhearted depiction of a Thread he had ever witnessed himself. There was no music from the Bard, no bright and shining spells from the Wizard…in fact, it took a moment for him to even tell which member of the Thread the wizard was, hunched in front of a ledger as she ticked her way through numbers and barely even looked at the children in front of her.
There was the Healer’s cart, as well as a few acolytes of Melemor talking to the already chosen initiates gathered in front of it, but no full Healer. The only one making any sort of effort was the Druid, introducing children to his enormous stag and letting them greet the animal one-by-one. Over by the rest of the caravan, ensuring the horses were fed and watered, was the Guide, her lips drawn into a thin, terse line.
It was more than dull, it was downright disheartening. But what could Hiram do about it? He couldn’t confront them about not doing their Imperial duty, not if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, and he couldn’t pick up the slack on their behalf.
He had underestimated the absolute outrage that the girl at his side was capable of. Letty had come expecting something amazing, something to delight her younger siblings with and take her mind off whatever heaviness was weighing her down, and she was brutally disappointed.
Letty wasn’t the sort of girl to let such a disappointment stand.
“What…how…this isn’t right!” she burst out, anger and indignation clear in her ringing voice. A full half the people in the square turned to stare at her as Letty got down from the cart, fire in her eyes. “Where’s the Mayor? Where’s our Chief Healer? Where are all the people? Why are you doing it this way?”
It was like the Gods themselves had suddenly cracked open the clouds in Hiram’s mind and laid out a way for the future to unfold as he’d hoped. “Why don’t you bring it up with that lady over there?” he said, pointing at the Guide. “She’s the one who leads the Thread.”
Letty set her jaw. “I will!” She marched off, and Hiram held in a smile as he felt the heat from Phlox flare for a moment. It was as good an opening as he could give her, and hopefully the Guide would feel the full effects of Letty’s ability to turn the tide in her favor.
The rest of the children scrambled out of the cart, and Millie handed Knight’s lead over to Clyde and took the reins from Hiram. “I’ll put him in Master Jonn’s stable,” she murmured. “There’s no room out here, and he won’t mind.”
“Thank you,” Hiram said.
“I wanna go see the deer,” Clyde said, and grabbed Rickie by the hand. A second later Hiram was alone except for Baby Davey, who was still gumming on a piece of apple from home.
“Well.” Hiram boosted the child a bit higher on his hip. “Let’s see if we can’t find some more people to help liven this place up.” Such as the missing Bard. Perhaps they’d gone into the Yew Brew for a quick pint.
It was as good a place to start as any.
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