Day 5 - Scene 12 - Part 6

Sofie trotted on, water glistening on her coat and her mane plastered to the sides of her neck. With every step she kicked up wet dirt. The surface still held, but little runnels of water already ran down the road from further up the hill. Here and there, puddles had formed and water splashed as they ran through them.

Enar shivered where he sat. The rain had long since soaked into the thin hairs on his legs and he'd given up on shaking it off. He glanced over at Amanda. She must be even worse off. Most of the skirt of her dress hung heavy with water, clinging to her legs all the way up to her hips. He squeezed her shoulder and pulled her closer, trying to share some warmth.

At least they didn't have much further to go. The crest of the ridge loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the grey sky. After that it would be downhill for a bit and then they'd be at the cider-house. He could walk from there and Amanda could turn back home.

He'd get even more soaked, but he could change into dry clothes when he got back. He could crawl into bed and listen to the rain on the windowsill, or maybe he could light a fire in the old oven. It couldn't be that hard.

Maybe she'd drive him all the way back to the burrow. Surely not many villagers would gather at the inn on a day like this. He could ask her to come up with him and they could have a cup of tea and dry off and wait out the rain together. That would be great. There ought to be tea in the kitchen somewhere. A faint smile pulled at his lips. Maybe she could show him how to light the fire. She'd probably like that.

Enar looked at Sofie, glistening wet in the twilight. It probably wouldn't happen.

They reached the top of the hill and Amanda brought the carriage to a halt, letting Sofie rest for a bit again. “Usually you can see the oaks from here. Over there somewhere,” she said and pointed ahead into the rain. “We'll just rest here a moment. It's not much further now.”

All around them the rain kept falling. In the distance the trees of the forest faded into a uniform grey that swallowed the world and erased the line between hill and sky. Enar twisted around to look behind them. Same thing there. This morning he'd seen the sun rise over the hills from here. Now, there were no hills to see.

Somewhere ahead of them a wind picked up. Starting as a dull moaning it grew into a roar that shook the trees around them and tore at their tarp. Driving sheets of rain before it the wind lashed them with water, soaking what little clothing still remained dry.

“Crap,” grumbled Amanda and shook the reins.

Enar held on to the tarp for dear life, fingers aching. It still gave a little protection, and it was a matter of principle. He would not let go.

Sofie neighed and started forward. In the face of the wind and the rain she got the cart moving again, slowly but surely.

Amanda shivered beside him and he pulled her close again.

“Not much further now,” he mumbled, trying to keep his teeth from clattering. Drops of cold water ran down his chest.

Bowing her head against the rain Amanda clenched her jaws together. “Nearly there.”

The rain showed no sign of letting up. If anything, it rained even harder. Sofie plodded on, her hoof prints filling up with water as soon as she stepped out of them.

It would soon be dark.

How would he find his way home?

He knew the way, but there were no street lights and with the rain and clouds the night would be pitch black. What if he got lost? Maybe he could stop at the inn and wait the rain out there. If there were people there, surely someone could help him get back to Rolf's place.

Something cold gripped his heart. They must be worried. They couldn't know where he was or when he'd be back. You shouldn't make people worry. He should call them.

Stupid, ignorant, city fylk. Call them? Enar groaned and hung his head. When would he learn?

“What?” growled Amanda. “It's cold for me too. Stop complaining.”

Enar cast down his eyes. That was so unfair. He'd been holding up the stupid tarp all this way and not said a word about it. “I wasn't...” His fingers ached and his clothes were soaked and his arms ached and he was cold all over and everything was just bad. Bad. “Look! I wasn't complaining. I just thought of something. Okay?”

“Right...” Amanda snorted and stared ahead into the rain. She clenched her jaws together and after a moment she sighed. “Okay, what?”

Enar adjusted his grip on the tarp and tried to compose himself. They couldn't be having an argument here – not now. He cleared his throat and spit some rain out, off the side of the cart. “Rolf and Beired don't know where I am or what I'm doing. They don't know when I'll back, right? I'm a guest at their burrow so they're probably worried.”

“Okay, and?” She still didn't look at him. She still stared straight ahead.

He ground his teeth, shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. “And being the idiot city kid that I am, I had a brain fart and decided that the best thing to do would be to call them.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” she snapped and glared at him. “You're out of batteries, remember?”

Enar's mouth dropped open and he stared at her. Technically, she was right. He'd forgotten about that, but she was right. Technically. He tried to stifle a grin. “Yes, and there's no coverage out here and they don't actually have a phone for me to call.”

Amanda froze. She sat completely still and then she hung her head and groaned. She gathered up the reins in one hand and patted him on the knee, still with her head ducked.

After a moment she looked up and even in the darkening evening her cheeks flared bright red. “Well Enar... It looks like this idiot city girl owes you an apology.” She bobbed her head and smiled a little smile. “I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

His cheeks pulled his mouth so wide he had to strain to get the words out right. “Don't worry. It's okay.” He cleared his throat and got his face under control. “This kind of weather could wear on anyone's patience. I snapped too.”

“Mmm...” Amanda nodded. “Not much further now.”

Enar sighed and looked down at the road. Sofie's hoofs sunk pretty deep now. She no longer kept her head high as she plodded through the rain. "Will you make it back home?”

“Through this? No way.”

“Oh...” Enar's heart sank. “What will you do? Walk back?” She had much further to go. It was his fault.

“Not tonight. There's a hayloft above the stables at the cider-house. I'll sleep there.”

A hayloft. At the cider-house.

Enar's cheeks burned and he turned his face to the side so she wouldn't notice. He swallowed. “Nice. That doesn't sound too bad.”

“Nah, it'll be okay – and it'll get Sofie out of the rain too.” Amanda clicked her tongue and gave the reins a shake. “You hear that Sofie. We'll get out of the rain,” she yelled at the horse.

Sofie made no move to show she'd noticed, but Enar hope she'd heard and understood. He wanted the poor creature to know she'd be dry and comfortable soon.

Amanda sighed. “I just hope there's enough hay so I don't have to sleep directly on the planks.”

That sounded a lot less exciting. It had been a very long time since he'd slept directly on a floor – sober. Enar shuddered. Waking up on the kitchen floor of the guest burrow the other morning had not exactly been one of his finer moments.

“Yes, I hope so too,” he said eventually.

“Enar, would you mind checking the basket? See if grandma packed a blanket or a towel or something?”

“Sure. You okay to hold on here?” He wiggled his right hand – the one that held the tarp on to her shoulder.

Amanda fiddled with the reins for a moment and then grabbed on to the tarp. Sofie would just have to keep moving on her own for a bit. It's not like they were moving very fast anyway.

Enar twisted around and grabbed the handle of the basket, just behind him. In the dim light he saw a bundle of cloth, which must be Amanda's sweater, the urn with the cider and a square package wrapped in some thin cloth, but nothing that looked like a towel.

“No, there's just your sweater there. It looks dry still. Do you want it?”

“Nah, won't do any good now.” She smiled at him and drops of water ran down her face. “Later. Later will be good.”

He smiled back and took the tarp from her hand. Later would indeed be good – back at the burrow: out of the rain, dried up and in bed. He'd sleep so well. Maybe Rolf would have some of that apple whisky waiting for him – just a little: enough to put the fire back in his chest. He'd sleep so well.

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Continued in Day 5 - Scene 13.

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