Railiana Monroe's Arc

Chapter 5 of 10

The crushed seed left Railiana with one road out. She could not plant mud. She could not grow food from empty sacks. So at first light she walked to the village, coins knotted in her apron. Levi came partway, then stopped at the tree line. "Crowds and I don't mix," he said, and pointed her toward the smoke rising over the thatched roofs. "Try the tavern. People trade there." She nodded and went on alone. The hamlet sat close and crooked, timber homes leaning against each other under yellow thatch. Railiana knocked on doors. A miller shook his head. A woman watering flowers said her seed was already in the ground. By midmorning her hope thinned. Then a boy pointed her to the tavern with the glowing windows and the painted shield above the door. Inside smelled of bread and woodsmoke. A red-haired woman moved behind the bar, sleeves shoved up, scrubbing a tankard hard enough to dent it. She looked Railiana over in one glance. "You've got farm dirt under your nails and no drink money in your eyes," the woman said. "So what do you actually want, girl?" "Seeds," Railiana said. "Any kind that will still grow this season. Boars ruined my last store." Her voice caught. "I've nothing left to plant." The woman set the tankard down. Her sharp face softened at the edges. "Synthia Duvall. I own this place, and I raised two children on worse luck than yours." She wiped her hands on her apron. "Boars, is it? Half this valley's cursed them this year." She studied Railiana a moment longer, then jerked her head toward a back room. "Come on. I keep a sack for my kitchen garden. Turnip, bean, a little squash." She dragged out a burlap sack and loosened the cord. Inside lay seed, dry and whole and good. Railiana's chest ached at the sight of it. "How much?" she asked, reaching for her coins. Synthia named a price. It was fair, maybe kind. Railiana counted the knot of coins into her palm. It was most of what she had, but it was enough. She poured them into Synthia's hand. "Thank you," she said. "You don't know what this saves." "I've a fair idea." Synthia tied the sack shut and pushed it across the table. "Now get it in the ground before the frost decides for you. And keep that horned neighbor of yours close. Boars fear a blade more than a scarecrow." Railiana carried the sack home against her chest the whole way, arms tired, heart lighter. She had seed again. The season was not lost. But at the fence she stopped and looked at the sky. The air had a bite it hadn't held that morning. Frost was coming, and coming soon. She had the seed. Now she had almost no time to plant it.