Day 2 - Scene 4 - Part 2

Thick cut ham along with carrots, mash and cabbage lay piled high on the plate, all of it covered in a rich, thick gravy. Enar's belly rumbled.

“There you are, knives and forks and I'm sorry about the wait. Enjoy your meal.” The other waitress, Adne her name was, placed a small pile of utensils and napkins on the table and hurried on to the next.

“Always like that isn't,” said Rolf and with a chuckle he started handing out knives and forks to everyone.

“Indeed brother,” replied Steve. “I don't think we've had the tools before the food a single week this summer.”

“Don't be harsh on the girls, men,” Gitta spoke up. “Adne just started out and she's still learning the ropes. If she'd been at it as long as Jolene and still forgot you'd hear me complain too.”

Before she could get any further, and she looked like she would, Steve interrupted her. “Don't worry my dear, we mean nothing by it. It's just funny how it's happening every time. It's almost traditional, like.”

“Enar, my friend,” Rolf began, “Adne, the younger wench, is Gitta's niece through her brother Forrom and she's fiercly protective of her. She won't hear a bad word said against the girl.”

“Well, neither would you Rolf if it was your niece out there working hard on Restday while everyone else was respecting the day as they should,” Gitta said, head held high. “I don't know why they have to have the girls working on Restday. It ain't right I tell you. They should just let us queue up and collect the plates at the counter like when I was a girl.

“Or they could have some monks come over and help out. They never do anything and they always claim to be oh so holy.”

“I think she's doing great,” Enar hurried to say as soon as he could get a word in. “I know what a tough job it can be, waiting – especially with this many tables. I did it on the side when I was studying. It's not easy and still she manages to look good doing it.” He tried his most charming smile and hoped that it would help the flattery appease the woman.

Adne wasn't bad. He'd seen her running back and forth with trays passing out ciders among the tables. She seemed to work hard and with her long brown braids and freckles she was pretty in a homely, countryside-girl, kind of way. Still, she had nothing on Jolene, who was, quite frankly, one of the most beautiful women Enar had ever seen.

“Well, yes, she does,” Gitta agreed and pointed her fork at him, “but you keep your city fylk hands away from her. She's a decent girl and you're much too old for her.”

“I, what, I never,” Enar blushed and spluttered, “I didn't mean it like that, I just.”

“Told you she's protective my friend,” Rolf said and smiled, “but enough of that. Food is served and it's time we enjoy it.”

“Yes, it does look delicious and I am really quite hungry,” Enar replied. He hesitated for a moment, “are we saying grace or something? I'm new here you know.”

They all looked at him.

“Sitting in the sun with a cold drink not enough for you, my friend?” Rolf raised and eyebrow, “I didn't take you for a pious one.”

“Oh, no, not at all. I'm cool. I just didn't want to offend anyone,” and with a smile he added, “more than I already have.”

His little joke drew smiles and laughs from around the table as they all dug in and started eating.

The mash was made from real potatoes. It even had little lumps in it here and there, the way it didn't back in the city, except for in the finer restaurants where they made their own.

Enar reflected on this as he chewed. The food on his plate was probably better than in most of the places he usually ate at; definitely superior to that at the little diner round the corner from the office, not to mention the cafeteria at work itself. They even had real cloth napkins out here, you didn't see that in anything but the fanciest of places back home.

He'd expected the fare out here to be rustic, but hadn't really thought much about it. It stood to reason they'd produce most of their food themselves and of course it would be better that way, all natural ingredients and everything – very ecological. Then again, it probably wouldn't be very varied. He doubted they'd serve up sushi or tapas. The thought of Jolene and Adne running around taking orders for something like that from everyone made him smile.

“Horse.” Beired broke the silence. She raised her head and looked in the direction of the road that went down to the cider-house.

Enar and the others looked up as well, but the road was empty. No horse in sight.

“Someone coming,” Rolf asked.

Frowning, Beired nodded but didn't say anything. At the other tables people were still eating and chatting happily among themselves.

A horse pulling a cart came around the bend in the road and conversations slowly ceased around them. Silence fell over the tables as people craned their necks to see who the newcomer was.

At first Enar thought maybe it was Hasse coming by to join them for the meal. The horse looked just like Rosalove and the cart was of the same type, but it wasn't him. The driver was a woman dressed in green and with a broad-brimmed hat that hid her face in its shadow.

On the back of the cart were two passengers, both of them with heads shaved so close they gleamed in the sun. As the cart drove closer they jumped off, hurried over to the inn and went inside. Enar didn't get a good look at them, but noticed they both wore the same grey robes, loose and flowing.

“There are you monks Gitta,” Steve said, “now maybe Adne can get some rest from her chores.”

Gitta ignored him, staring at the woman on the cart, deep furrows on her brow, “that's the Storvak girl. What's she doing here?”

“Oh, is it?” Steve replied, “I didn't recognize her. Haven't seen her for years.”

“She better not stay here for lunch. I won't stand for it.”

“There, there dear,” Steve put a hand gently on her arm, “she's probably just helping the monks get here and then she'll leave again.”

“Everyone is welcome at the Restday meal,” Beired had put down her knife and fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin, her eyes still focused on the cart and the woman driving it, “remember that. All anfylk should rest on the Restday.”

“But she,” Gitta began.

“Everyone,” Beired snapped, interrupting the other woman, “even she.”

Rolf sawed at piece of ham that was already small enough to put in his mouth. Steve looked back and forth between his wife and his brother's, occasionally stealing glances at the cart and its driver.

Enar, very carefully, said nothing at all. All around him at the other tables similar scenes were playing out. People talked intently to each other in hushed tones and all eyes were on the newcommer.

For a while it seemed as if she planned on staying. She drove the cart up to the little open area in front of the wagon shed and turned it around as if to park there. Stopping for a moment she looked out over the tables and the fylkin assembled there. Enar got the feeling she smiled at them, but with the wide hat and the bright, mid-day sun it was hard to see her face at all.

The woman nodded her head and with a shake of the reins got the horse and cart moving again. It wasn't until after she was out of sight behind the bend in the road that conversations started picking up again.

“I'm sorry, you're right of course,” Gitta eventually said and turned back to her meal. “Everyone's welcome at the Restday meal. It's just, I'm,” she hesitated and stared at her food. She began to say something else but stopped with a sigh. Stabbing a piece of ham with her fork she started to eat again.

Rolf and Steve exchanged glances. Steve put a hand on his wife's arm and squeezed gently. Her shoulders slumped a little, but she continued eating and still didn't look up. Beired sat back in her chair with her eyes closed. If he didn't know she'd been awake and talking just a minute ago Enar would have thought she was sleeping.

He poked at his food, but didn't really feel like eating. He'd pulled off a joke earlier, maybe he could lighten the mood a bit. After a moment's hesitation he decided he probably couldn't make things any worse, took a deep breath and said. “So, monks? I didn't realized there were any here. Do you have a temple as well or are they wandering?”

“Yes, sort of, but Steve knows–”

“Not exactly, Rolf can tell–“

The two brothers stopped talking, looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Haha, that hasn't happened since,” Rolf took a deep breath and continued, “since that time you know, way back when,” he sighed and stared off into the distance. “You tell it Steve, you know the place better than I do anyway - and despite, I've got my eating to catch up on.”

“Well, I don't know about that,” replied Steve, “but who am I to keep my brother starving?”

The two men chuckled and Enar smiled attentively. Perhaps he'd gotten them on to a different track and everyone would be happy and cheerful again soon.

“So,” Steve began, “it's really a shrine and not a temple, but it might as well be. The shrine-tenders keep rooms open all year for wandermonks and there's always someone staying there. So it might as well be a temple.

“If someone round the hills needs a monk for something it's there they go. You'll always find a monk in Storvak they say and that's the day's truth. I've never been there when there's not been one around.”

“That sounds like an interesting place. I haven't heard of it before.” Enar thought about it for a moment. He couldn't remember anything about a shrine in the brochure. “Is it a secret?”

“Yes! You can't tell anyone! They'll steal the monks!” Rolf held up a finger and hushed, loud enough that the people on the table next over turned their heads to see what was going on.

Enar laughed. That one was on him. “I mean, I didn't read anything about it before I came here. Do they want to avoid tourists? Keep it local? That kind of thing?”

Rolf's expression turned serious. “You know what, my friend? I haven't actually thought about that.” He turned to face his brother, “Steve, do you know?”

“Everyone's welcome at the shrine.” Gitta spoke up out of nowhere. She put down her knife and fork and waited until she was sure she had everyone's attention. “Everyone's welcome at the shrine, but it's more convenient for everyone if the place isn't full of city fylk gawking at the gardens and trampling the flowerbeds.”

“Oh, err, well, I guess I...” Enar hesitated, “I'm sure there is plenty enough to do around here.” he didn't want to look up, he didn't want to meet her gaze, or that of anyone else. He hadn't known. It wasn't his fault. He was just curious. He wouldn't be in the way. “Maybe I should–”

“That's enough.” Beired's voice cut in. “Gitta. I will not have you insult our guest. You will apologize or you will leave and take your ill will with you.”

Silence.

Enar stared at the food on his plate. It had looked so good, but now the sight of it made him feel ill. Sunlight reflected on the side of the knife and nearly made his eyes tear.

It wasn't fair.

“Steve, we're leaving.”

Two chairs scraped across the ground and two pairs of feet walked away from the table.

In the silence that followed Enar could hear the footsteps further and further away until drowned out by hushed conversations at the tables around them. He swallowed, took a deep breath and looked up. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I didn't know...”

“Enar, my friend, there's no need to apologize. You've done nothing wrong.” Rolf forced a smile, “now let's finish up the meal so we can go lie down in the grass under the trees. It'll do us good.” He sighed and continued, almost whispering, “if anyone asks, don't say anything. It's a bit complicated. I'll tell you later.” Enar started poking at his food again. He was still hungry, but it just didn't taste anything anymore.

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Continued in Day 2 - Scene 5

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