Dystopia Pt. 06

Minus his precious truck of course.

A brief conversation with Weaver as well as fifteen gold up front with promise of fifteen more upon delivery, three rabbits as pets for his children, promise for a prime side of lamb, and a handshake; and Emil was suddenly the proud owner of a large covered wagon and two mules. He would have preferred to select the purchases himself, but Weaver was a decent sort and apparently had a good eye for an honest deal.

With business concluded, Emil paid Lacy for a room and went to go collapse as soon as the greenleaf treat kicked in.

'Thank the Heavens for the herbalist,' was his last thought before dreamless sleep took him.

Chapter 23

Isla was in a full blown panic.

Emil had left saying he was only going to be gone for the afternoon, and that was five days ago. The first day she focused on cleaning the bedrooms and filling the lamps like he had ordered. She had gathered all of the lamps she could find and brought them all to the dining room, which was seeming more and more like the heart of this little home. Eight lamps in all, but only three of them needed tending.

She started by trimming and evening the burnt wick tips, and while this wasn't strictly necessary for oil lamps, it was a nice aesthetic and she wanted to make it perfect. She then had to make the unfortunate trip to the barn to fetch more oil. Since there was no one around to judge her, she went ahead and put on every single spare sweater in the house and three pairs of pants just to be extra safe. After pulling on her new boots, opened the door to the mudroom of cuteness.

Bunnies were everywhere. They were adorable with their long black ears and their cute white little bodies. Most of them were huddled in a large mass on top of the furs in the corner, but there were several hopping about and even a couple chewing on the walls. Some of them were fucking at turbo velocity and she couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

She used her foot to scoot several of the rabbits away from the door and then braced herself and pulled it open. Light blinded her. She flinched and squinted, covering her eyes with her hand. She gasped at the sight. The snow had finally stopped and the sun was peeking through a gap in the clouds. Everything was still covered in white snow, but it wasn't as deep as she was afraid it would be. The howling wind was likely responsible for pushing most of it off and away. The temperature was much more tolerable now that nature's fury had abated.

'It's not exactly warm, but this is closer to what I would call livable. I still don't know why Emil doesn't just relocate this whole operation to somewhere more hospitable.'

Careful to make sure none of the furried prisoners made their great escape, she closed the door behind her firmly and made the quick trek over to the barn. There was a side door on the wall facing the house that brought her into the back side of the building and away from the large double front entrance with its heavy doors. She looked around for a few minutes taking note of the various tools and trinkets that lined the walls or were piled on shelves. Thankfully the lamp oil was prominently labeled and she was able to use a smaller tin to gather the oil instead of having to bring out the lamps to the larger cask.

After obtaining the oil and re-securing the cask to the wall with a short bit of chain, she made her way back into the house and shucked her various layers. It took only a few minutes to top off all the lamps and put them back in their original homes. Having completed the task, she set about scrubbing the kitchen to a pristine state and then starting on the laundry, dunking and hanging the blankets next to the fire to dry.

'Ugh. The blankets still smell moldy but another wash or two and they should do better. I will probably need to boil them if I'm gonna get them truly clean though. Wish I had some lye.'

With the blankets and sheets taken care of, she turned her attention to the hides. Master had two 'blankets' that were just several tanned goat hides, with fur still on, sewn together into a larger piece. They were misshapen, following the contours of their original owner rather than the clean lines of cut cloth. There were bald spots where the fur had rubbed off, knots in the fur, and several stains that...crunched under her prodding.

'Ewwwww.'

These she moved to the bathroom and dumped into the tub. She then filled it with water as hot as she could get it, as much soap as she thought she could get away with, and attacked them with a brush to scrub them down. Dirt, fur, and bits of... grime, all seeped into the water until it was a dark gray sludge. She repeated the process twice for each until they were as clean as she could make them with her limited facilities and tools.

She longed for a proper wash basin. One of those huge tubs with a fire below and reeking of lye and soda. She could almost feel the smooth wood of the long stirring stick in her hand. Isla shook her head rapidly to clear the memory, before she got too distracted. She quickly hung the furs and checked the blankets to see how they were coming.

Once everything was clean and dry, she remade both bedrooms. A quick peek out the window showed she still had several hours of daylight yet, and Isla figured that she would plan for dinner at sunset, since that was most likely when Master and Mr. Markem would be home. She decided to move all of Emil's clothes from his old room, to his new room but the space was almost entirely consumed by the clothes of his... parents.

She fingered the worn sleeve of what used to be a gorgeous green blouse that must have set the family back quite a few silver, and she could feel the weight of memory woven into the garment every bit as much as she could see the pale blue embroidery. She imagined Emil as a child, sitting on the floor of the room, listening in rapture as a mother told him of epic stories and tales of the unknown.

She looked to the other side of the closet and saw the father's clothes as well. Heavy, worn, and rugged. Clothes designed to protect and last. Not clothes of a merchant or noble, but that of a weather beaten rancher. There was almost no embellishment or frippery on any of these clothes, with one notable exception; a pristine silk shirt in pale blue with emerald embroidery along the cuffs and collar. A cord necktie with a pretty stone set into the metal was slung over the hanger completing the outfit.

Her eyes darted to the mothers blouse and confirmed... they were a matched pairing. Probably their finest clothes, if not their wedding clothes. She turned back to the rest of the fathers garments and it was all too easy to picture an older Emil leading his son around the farm on his shoulder, pointing and teaching about the goats, sheep, and plants of the ranch.

She didn't realize she was crying until her breath caught in her throat. She still wasn't sure of the details, but she knew that both his parents had died recently and based on the house and Emil's behavior they were a loving family. It reminded her of the good times she had with her sister and mother, laughing and playing in the washrooms. Sneaking bites of their mom's latest sweets and blaming it on the birds. Of her dad holding her in his arms and telling her that she was his whole world.

She remembered Rosa. Sweet Rosa who was the happiest person she had ever met, so full of life and optimism. Even when they were alone, starving on the street, Rosa never gave up. Sure that they would figure something out. 'As long as we still have each other, everything is ok' she used to say, arms wrapped around each other as they waited for the sun to rise.

Then she remembered the night at the Lord's manor where everything changed. It wasn't on purpose, it was a blind corner that was to blame for the spilled wine. The Lady however was incensed. She remembered the shouting, and then the guard pulling their truncheons and beating her sister. She tried to protect her as a good big sister should, but the club didn't care which girl it hit. It only took a few blows before she was rendered unconscious.

She remembered waking up in a cage dizzy and nauseous.

She remembered... oh god. She remembered the bloody rags in the cage next to her that she initially mistook for a pile of garbage. Rosa. She was beaten so badly that she was nearly unrecognizable. Only a piece of twine around her wrist as a bracelet gave Isla the clue she needed.

She remembered begging, screaming, and slamming herself against the bars of the cage trying to reach her sister.

Isla had sobbed and screamed herself senseless when they carted the sisters away. She'd never found out where they took her. Her memories blurred after that, and were harder to recall. Not that she especially wanted to. It was pretty much the same after. Put up for auction, nobody bidding, moving to the next location. Interspersed with starvation, hard labor, and terror.

The pattern continued day in and day out, until at long last Emil bought her. Since then she hadn't been touched ('though I certainly did some touching,' she snickered to herself), and had been fed, clothed, and kept safe.

Safe? Isla reached up and touched the heavy collar around her neck with the flattened divot on the front with something scratched into it. She felt the weight of the collar, the unyieldingness of the metal. The face of the man who placed it on her.

Safe. She was as far away from Nobility as it was possible to be. She was cared for, and was allowed to eat her fill. There was an abundance of livestock and a friendly town nearby where Emil seemed to be on good terms with several of the locals. Or at least that mountain of a blacksmith. Probably don't need many more friends than that.

'Heh. Nobody is going to spit in your face with that guy standing next to you, that's for certain. '

Here she was, alone in a house. Safe. Warm. Fed. Away from any dangers. For the first time in years, her shoulders began to unclench. She found herself on the floor, tired from her introspection and the weight of memory. Her face was tight and her throat was sore, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She couldn't of course, but maybe just a few more seconds while she composed herself.

Chapter 24

Isla woke with a sore shoulder and a numb arm. She was briefly confused and then realized that she must have fallen asleep. She lurched to her feet and checked the nearest window. It was already dark. She scrambled to the kitchen and saw that the stove was still cold and the lamps were unlit. Emil wasn't home yet.

She frowned. 'Well thank the spirits for that.' She was relieved that Emil hadn't seen her passed out in a pool of her own misery instead of working, but was also irritated that he wasn't home yet.

She shrugged. 'Guess something came up and he had to stay overnight.'

She quickly made herself a small bowl of grits in a pot and had a quiet dinner before retiring to her room and picking a different book to sample. She thought the book about large machines that could till the soil and harvest grain was neat, but not exactly something she could really invest in. She picked up another one on botany and horticulture to try instead. If nothing else, she thought that the flowers might be soothing. An hour later she found herself nodding off, so she replaced the book and began the process of cocooning herself into the cot. She eyed the bed for a second, but a slave sleeping in the Master's bed without permission was a sure way to earn a beating, in her experience. She didn't actually think Emil would mind, he wasn't the type, but her fears won anyway. She would make due with the cot. Even if it was too small and honestly pretty drafty.

Morning came and still no sign of Emil. Isla stretched languidly as she awoke early, judging by the sun just barely tinting the horizon a light blue. She looked up at the exposed beams of the short ceiling above her and the roof planks above them. Blinking her eyes slowly to moisturize them, she contemplated her day and wondered when Emil would get back.

'Even if they left at first light, it would take them three hours to get here. You've got time girl,' she justified. 'Besides, it's not like you have anything to do. Unless you wanna go feed the goats for him.'

Isla sat bolt upright, completely ignoring the chill morning air.

'Shit. The animals. There's no way that I'm not expected to check on them. It was literally the first thing he showed me on the ranch. Well, I guess the first thing was his bed.' She chuckled to herself. 'Not how I expected to end up in it, but it's not such a bad arrangement.' Besides, he did this adorable little breathe-moan thing right when he tipped over the edge, maybe two seconds before the fireworks went off, and it was so cute the way he stared at her in awe afterwards.

'Heh, I bet that kid has only been to the brothel on his birthday. Practically a virgin. So precious.'

She wrested her mind out of the gutter and back on her day. She frowned as she tried to recall all the steps he had shown her. She took her time and went over the morning several times to make sure that she remembered everything, but soon enough she could stall no longer.

Isla climbed out of the cot and onto the cold floor. Her thick socks absorbed a lot of the chill, but it still wasn't pleasant. She pulled her 'house sweater' over herself and quickly skipped over to the bathroom, and then the kitchen.

A few bits of stinky fluff and some small logs got the stove fired and it would hopefully heat the room pretty soon. She foraged in the coldroom for the jars of dried grains, and pulled together a pot and some water to make grits. A few minutes and a slab of goat butter and she had herself a nice quiet breakfast. After cleaning the dishes and tidying the kitchen, she donned the clothes that she had deemed 'outdoor' and quickly departed out the mudroom.

She went to the sheep pen first, even though she really didn't want to. She squared her shoulders though and sucked it up like a big girl and went to do the chores. First she loaded the trough with the dried grain that was stored in the shed. Last time Emil had only put half a barrel's worth in the but Isla didn't understand the math. There were over two-hundred heads of sheep here, there was no way that was enough feed for all of them.

It dawned on her, that was before the storm. Sure there was ice on the ground, but it wasn't everywhere before the storm. She remembered the ground being mostly clear and looking at the scrubby grass on the drive up.

'He must have only used the grain as supplemental, and the grass as the primary food source.'

She knew herd animals ate a lot, like an unreasonable amount, but she wasn't sure how much Emil wanted to spend on a short storm like this one. She figured that the sheep could probably survive about a kilo of feed per. Assuming fifty kilos in a barrel, and what she assumed was about two-hundred and twenty five sheep, she would need four and a half barrels to feed these monsters. There were only five barrels in the shed, but a quick trip over to the barn showed a much larger stockpile of feed in a huge silo like construct.

Heading back to the pen, she began the arduous task of digging out scoop after scoop of feed into the troughs for the sheep. They quickly herded and munched happily away at the offering, allowing her to glance over them from the safety of the fence and scan for any that were limping or slow. It took almost four hours for her to scoop all the food and she was sure that there were some of the smaller beasts that didn't get any food, but how to address it was beyond her.

Finished with her task she did the same at the goat pen, but there were far fewer goats to contend with thankfully. She didn't even bother with the shovel or the inspection of these creatures, since she had absolutely no interest in being stomped on.

Finishing that task, she went to the barn and began gathering armfulls of hay and dumping it in the mudroom for the rabbits. She wrinkled her nose at the horrid smell, not even the cold could cover up the stench from two days of poop. Sighing miserably, she forced herself back to the barn for a shovel, bucket and gloves.

She shoveled the vast majority of the room into the bucket and emptied it several dozen paces from the house, then put away the tools and retreated to the warmth of the kitchen. The sky was much lighter than before, but with the cloud cover she wasn't sure if it was high sun yet or not. She was sure that Emil would be back any minute though, since it had taken her hours to check on the animals.

She put away her outdoor gear and began the process of heating up some soup for Emil's return. There was still a lot left over from the pot she had made the other day and some meat that had been previously roasted and stored. She began the process of slowly warming it up, and had a small snack of some rabbit before glancing around and seeing what else she could work on.

'Cleaning the bathroom? Hmm, I already scrubbed the tub when I did the laundry. All the blankets except mine were scrubbed.'

She lit the boiler in the bathroom and then gathered her blankets and all the underclothes she could find. All the socks and drawstring underwear went into the tub right along the blankets. She used the stove in the bedroom to dry off the various pieces and then returned them all to their homes, and moved on to the closets, pulling shirts and pants next.

Every load she looked out the main window in the kitchen and checked to see if Emil was home yet or not. She figured she would be able to at least see his headlights from a decent distance, but hour after hour the lights did not appear.

By the time the sun set she had finished all the undergarments and most of the shirts and pants in the house.

'It's already smelling better in here.'

She lit one of the lamps from the bedroom and sat at the counter reading the book on horticulture, and she saw several gorgeous varieties of flower that she wondered if they would make good dyes or not. There was this cup shaped flower called a tulip. They came in seemingly all colors, but 'oh! the red ones!' She wondered if they could be used to dye things...

After maybe an hour of reading, she accepted the fact that Emil wasn't coming home tonight either.

'I wonder what happened.' She chewed on her lip. 'Whatever it is, it's not good news.' She wondered if there was some incident in town and Emil had gotten caught up in it. Maybe a fire?

"I hope he's ok," she muttered to herself. "Pffft, what am I talking about. It's probably nothing. Maybe they stayed the first night for business and the second day they got drunk or something and lost track of the time. Emil's probably in the brothel right now getting reamed." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. 'Stop worrying. Just go to bed, sleep in for once. He'll be back tomorrow for sure and you'll feel silly for being all wound up.'

She took a nice long bath, letting herself steep in the water till she was as warm as she could get, then retreated to the cot eyeing the bed wistfully. She thought about sleeping in the bed again, but shook herself free of the notion. She could probably get away from it, but the last thing she needed was Emil coming home in an hour or two and finding her there even if it was unlikely. So she crawled into the cot and took some of the furs to help insulate the bottom of the cot from the cold, and built up the fire and then went to bed.

****

She did not feel silly.

She was now beginning to worry for real. She repeated her steps from yesterday and expected Emil home at noon. Then at dinner. Then just after nightfall. She paced the bedroom trying to get ready for bed as the last of the coats dried over the stove. She chewed on her hair as she thought about what could possibly have eaten up three days of Emil's time. She imagined everything from a surprise wedding to an earthquake that had leveled the town and ranked them in order of likelihood.