Chapter 37 - The Good Moments

Wherein Rose experiences abundance. 

The ducal coach came to a halt in front of the Redemption Era house on Stygian Way. Rose and Valentina exited with grace. Bosra extracted herself with a little more difficulty. The door opening provided a challenge when coming from a sitting position.

A neighbour approached as the team of four were set into motion with the clicking of a tongue.

"Miss Tina? A package was delivered while you were away."

Valentina followed the woman home to a house across the street. They were only halfway there when rapidly falling droplets of chilling rain announced an incoming seasonal downpour. She glanced back to see Bosra helping Rose get her newly acquired instruments inside. The Highlander woman took over both cases as the smaller woman opened the door.

Valentina followed her neighbour inside through the scullery, to the kitchen.

An oblong box of waxed redwood sat on the table, looking out of place. It was tied shut with a leather harness of sorts, much like a valise would be.

"An older gentleman brought it by. He um… looked rather unkempt," the woman said. "But he rode one of those thaumic trikes, that are all the rage among youngsters, and his companion did too."

Valentina touched the box, wondering what was inside.

"He didn't give a name. He just asked if I would take it for you. I think he said something about music, but I can't be sure. It was rather a flash visit." The woman frowned at her faulty recollection of events.

"Thank you for taking this." Valentina took up the case. It was lighter than it looked. "How did my pie recipe work out for you?"

"It worked great. You were right about the amount of sugar needed. Wait, I’ll get you the new periodical I’ve got. There’s a cake recipe I’m sure you’ll love." The woman hurried to a cabinet and came back with an already well-read booklet. "I would like it back."

"Of course. Thank you again for taking this package." Valentina accepted the periodical and rolled it, so she could tuck it into the pocket inside her cloak. One look out the window confirmed she would need to hurry to avoid the worst of the downpour. "I will let you know how the cake turned out."

Valentina rushed home. As she reached the garden gate, with the letterbox on its post, the rush of water on roofs announced the incoming torrent of water. By the time she opened the front door, she was soaked to her core.

A gust of wind threatened to topple her when the door opened. She was hauled inside by steady hands.

Rose struggled to close the door again as Bosra plucked the wooden case from under Tina’s arm.

Rose helped Valentina peel off her cloak.

"Booklet, inside pocket," the soaked princess shivered. Rose extracted the periodical with a sorrowful look. The ink had run through, and the cheap paper was dissolving already.  

"You’ll have to buy a new one," Rose said as she disposed of the thing.

Valentina nodded ruefully, shivering in her soaked attire. 

"Go change, Tina," Bosra insisted.

"We'll have something to warm you up again ready when you come down," Rose added.

Valentina crawled up the stairs. Who knew how terrible it could feel to be wet. Fabric was sticking to every inch of skin. Her hair had been washed from its mooring pins and now clung to her scalp in thick clumps.

She stripped by the door of her dressing room, leaving her garments in a puddle.

It was a struggle to put on a clean shift and dry woollen leggings. Picking a sweater and a skirt that didn't match, but were comfy and warm, she hoped Nightsoul would forgive her for the affront to beauty. She topped her outfit off with her trusty housecoat.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and swallowed hard. Never before in her life had she dared to show herself to anyone in less than stellar accoutrement.

Rose was in the salon, eyeing the box Bosra had put on the table. She had dried the waxed redwood with kitchen towels to prevent serious damage. Until Valentina returned, she would have to wonder what was inside. Who had sent her friend a gift without a note?

Valentina reappeared, wearing the ugliest combination of clothes ever, and Rose smiled delightedly. "That looks very comfy." 

Valentina ducked her head, wrapping her housecoat tighter around herself. She curled up on the sofa and nodded to Rose. "Open it."

Bosra, returning from the kitchen with drinks, distributed tall clay cups. They could all use a pick-me-up after the morning’s events. 

"You want me to open it for you?" Rose asked, accepting a cup.

Valentina shook her head. "It’s yours. At least, I think it is." She took a sip of warmed spiced mead. "The neighbour gave a description fitting your old boys club."

"Really?"

Tina nodded. 

With a delighted smile, Rose set her cup down. She had an inkling of what would be inside. Unbuckling the leather straps, she shoved them away. There were indents of where the leather harness had been, worn in over time. She caressed the marks, as if soothing a horse with a girth strap sore. 

Gently, she lifted the lid. 

Inside was a dusty string instrument with a score of pegs sticking out the side. An oddly shaped bow lay beside it. A little card was stuck between the instrument and case lining.

"To Rosie, from days of yore, and Thomas’s trash attic, here's a key-fiddle. Time ya learn to play something new," Rose read out loud. She turned the little white card over. "Nyckelharpa... Hmm."

She put the card aside and studied what lay before her. Carefully, she touched the old thing. It was older than the case it had been stored in. 

"Now you have three," Bosra chuckled.  

"Seems like I do." Rose picked up her cup of spiced mead and leaned back, taking a sip. Her fingers itched to pick up the odd-looking crossover contraption. It had clear markings of being a fiddle - four strings, a bow, the classical f cuttings in the chest area - but it was flatter, stockier. There were pegs on the side that looked to be keys like those on a harpsichord. Yet in studying it, she thought it resembled a hurdy-gurdy more. She wondered how one could hold it and play the pegs at the same time. 

"Aren’t you going to try it out?" Valentina asked.

Rose bit her lip, eyes gleaming in the half-dark of the salon. "I might suck."

"Ain’t like we got anything better to do," Bosra said.

Rose set her cup aside after another fortifying sip and picked up the thing. Not thing... key-fiddle... Nyckelharpa.

Studying it from all sides, she found eyes where a strap could be attached, much like one would on a lute. She put the fiddle down, took the bow from the case and set it down too.  

Hidden beneath the lining was a leather strap, as well as a pamphlet brittle with age, ink faded, written in an archaic dialect of East Sea-Woldes farthest reaches. Very, very gently, she set the pamphlet aside. 

The strap needed a few coatings of grease to be rejuvenated, but for now, it would do. The brass clasps that attached to the eyes on the fiddle seemed none the worse for wear. 

She put the strap over her head, picked up the bow, and gently tried the snares. 

Everyone winced.

Rose read the pamphlet, deciphering what she could and set about tuning. Meanwhile Valentina lit the hearth and Bosra went to get snacks.

After far longer than Rose would have liked, she managed to play the first clear notes. Awkwardly, she fingered the keys, wincing as she went. 

Tina sat contentedly. She felt warm, inside and out. With the shutters closed to protect the window panes from rain, wind and debris, it was gloomy inside. Even in the middle of the day. The magic lighting did little to keep the dark at bay, but that was okay. Bosra would keep the storm at bay, and Rose would play away the ghosts.

Tears streaked down her face unbeknownst to her as unlabelled internal pain was healed. For the first time in her life, she felt safe. 

Bosra saw Tina cry and let her be.

Sometimes a woman just needed to cry. She was sure Tina would curb that need if she became aware she was doing so.

The fire could use another block. And there were chestnuts for roasting in the kitchen. She went to collect those.

While she was there, she added some more thick blocks to the stove, and turned down the air vents. That should keep the stove smouldering and ready to be stoked later. She checked the scullery door, making sure it was barred securely. Going back, she closed the kitchen door to keep the heat inside the main area of the house. 

Back in the salon, she put the chestnuts in a metal basket on a stick and held it suspended in the flames.

Bosra rarely pondered, and certainly no should-have-beens. That was a road to hell all on its own. But right now, with Rose and Tina sitting close, it was a good ponderance.

She was warm, she was fed, she had booze, there were friends. There was no pressure to perform the next great feat of heroics, no countdown timer to the evil necromancer raising armies of doom. This peace was what she had been looking for when she had left her adventuring days behind her. 

Life wasn't perfect. There was no replacement for Buddy, the bested Bud in the whole Wold. She was working at a livery stable in the far side of town, not training exotic pets for  hobnobs. 

And that was okay. 

She breathed in sharply and let go with a deep huff. 

The loss of Buddy, though vastly different in circumstance, had brought back the loss of her son. Both their bodies were cool and still, their eyes vacant. Stones and a twig marked their graves.

She touched the Soultree bark pendant. 

Once upon a time, she had found solace in performing ceremonies as farewell to her son.

He was timeless now. Immortal. Able to wait an eternity for their reunion. She had merely to look up at the night sky to know he was there amongst the stars, waiting for her. 

Dying would not honour him. 

She tossed the second batch of roasted chestnuts into the tray. She would  have to wait until they could be peeled and eaten. She tossed a handful in a bowl for Tina and shoved it her way, then did the same for Rose. 

Tossing and blowing her fingers, she peeled her own.

Living would honour her son. 

His death had sent her out into the world on her own. A pilgrimage to belonging. 

The death of Buddy had sent her here. To this moment. To the quiet in the storm. To family. 

She couldn't imagine her life without these girls in it. She didn't want to, really didn't want to. Yet she knew they were on different paths; Tina with her Elvish Lord, and the Pupper with her music. 

With another deep breath she let go of not knowing. Nightsoul would determine their fates. Silently she asked Sunfather to guide her friends, to keep them safe from harm.

She popped the peeled chestnut in her mouth and chewed. She vowed to Sunfather that she would have her friends’ backs, now and forever.

~~

Bear With Me is Part Two of my shifter romance short story series, and is the counterpart to Leap Year Curse. It releases September 30th on Kindle/ KU.
Contact me if you'd love to read, but don't want to touch Amazon/Kindle, even with an eleven foot pole.