-13-
The day after, they left for the town before noon. Clouds hid the sun as they walked on the stone tiles.
Miriel wore a dark blue coat and a matching skirt, her white shirt underneath covering her neck. A brimmed hat rested on her head while leather shoes covered her feet.
"Isn't that kind of, well, hot?" Mark said.
"No. It is never warm enough." Miriel replied. She turned and looked at Mark.
He strolled beside her, decked in the same clothes as the day before. His head darted all over as he stared at the trees around them.
"What is it you are looking for, even?" She asked.
"Hmm? What'd you say?" He turned to her, eyebrows raised.
"What do you mean to see, darting your head like a squirrel?" Miriel said, squinting at him.
"Well, trees and birds mostly. And now squirrels." Mark grinned.
"Oh, how gallant." She sighed.
They continued walking and entered the town.
It was bereft of people, save the few women drying and washing clothes; some wore blouses and skirts and some wore dresses, either had an apron covering their skirt tied to their waist.
And the children running around town playing merrily in their faded hand-me-downs.
"Hey! It's Lady Miriel." One shouted.
"Lady Miriel?" They perked their heads and quickly crowded Miriel.
"Having fun, little ones? Don't get so dirty lest your mothers scold you, okay?" Miriel beamed as she addressed the children.
They cheered and laughed as they went from one part of the town to another.
"Still can't believe children like you. Maybe they speak to you better because you're closer to them." Mark said.
Miriel turned to Mark, standing behind her with a hand on his hip.
"They are smart enough to tell people and donkeys apart. But also young enough to dismiss old donkeys." She replied.
"You think any of them remember me?" He asked, eyes staring at the ground.
"The children or the adults?"
"Both, but, the children probably."
"Perhaps the older ones would, but they are at the fields. The adults certainly do."
"Let's hurry then. Last thing I want is to run into them when they return." He walked past her and continued toward the house.
Miriel lightly shook her head and followed after him.
-
They stood near the edge of town, on a street leading to the farmland. In front of them was a house built of wood and stone with its roof covered in wooden shingles. The wooden doors were wide and round with a metal doorknob on each door.
"Your stuff should be in a room somewhere. Try the bedrooms first." Miriel said.
Mark nodded his head as he stood beside her.
"Should I search with you?"
"No." He shook his head. "I'll be quick. And the dust will stick to your clothes."
"Just being near you already does that." She shook her head.
He stared at the house as he stood rooted to tiles leading to the doors.
"Well? Are you going?" Miriel said.
"I will. I will. After a moment." Mark replied.
A moment passed, and another, and he did not move.
Miriel slapped his back.
"Ow. That hurt." He glared at Miriel as he rubbed his back.
"Just head in, would you?" She replied.
He turned to the house and took a step forward, and another step, and another, until he reached the doors.
He opened the doors and turned his head back.
Miriel shrugged.
Mark nodded then headed in.
-
Bids flew overhead and few landed on the tiles. Perched in the sky, the sun was past its zenith.
Miriel's eyes darted around. They followed the birds at times, leaves blown by the winds at others, and returned to the house again.
Weeds littered the ground about the house, save the path paved with stones. Some places among the weeds were vacant - often with groups of small finger sized notches - which made her smile.
She tapped her feet on the ground, turned her head when she heard the children's cheers nearby, and played with her hat as she waited.
Miriel heard a thump from the house. She saw Mark walking out carrying a stick in his hands.
Her eyes widened.
Sunlight fell on the stick, revealing a sword with its blade covered in brown patches. Mark hoisted it forward.
"Cool, isn't it? Found this after going through dad's stuff when he died."
The blade narrowed from the centre to the edges, which extended parallel from the guard until narrowing to a point.
He swung it around with both hands, then rested it beside him with the tip on the ground and the pommel at shoulder height.
"So, what'd ya think?" Mark beamed as he looked at her.
"Why did your father have a sword?" Miriel replied.
"You can at least pretend." He sighed. "He never even mentioned it. Not once. I was rummaging around old stuff and then I pulled it out."
"So, isn't it cool?" He repeated. staring intently at Miriel.
"Cool? It is rusted, Mark. Not separate from a stick."
Mark's shoulders slumped.
"It will be, after we fix it. We can, right?" He asked.
"Perhaps. Ask Louis. He will handle it."
A smile returned to his face as he ogled the blade. He had one hand on the pommel and the other hand perched on his hip.
"You mentioned three things to collect. Where are the other two?" Miriel asked.
"Brought them out as well."
"You did?" Miriel squinted her eyes.
Mark's hands were empty, save the hand on the sword. Neither had he a pouch on his waist nor a sack on his back.
"Yeah." He nodded
"Fair enough," She shrugged, "Let us return for lunch before you grumble."
Mark nodded and patted his stomach as he walked to Miriel.
They turned and walked towards the mansion. Mark slung the blade on his shoulder with the pommel in his palm.
"Be careful, would you? It might be rusted but it is still a blade."
"Don't worry. It's light." He hoisted the blade in front of him.
"We used heavier things at the…" He stopped.
Mark jolted.
Miriel watched as Mark ran, holding the sword in front with his hand. Her mouth slightly ajar.
She lightly shook her head and turned behind her.
A man approached wearing a linen smock that covered his knees and a belt tied to his waist. His trousers sank into the leather boots which covered his feet.
"Mister Mir, are you skipping work?" Miriel said. She took her hat off.
"Wouldn't dare, Jurrie'll have my head. I'm grabbin' pickles 'cause she wants 'em." He grumbled as he shook his head.
A straw hat covered his wavy white hair which fell to his shoulders. The shade covered his brown eyes and wrinkles spread across his face as he grinned. His low voice grew louder as he stopped in front of her.
"You doin' well girl? Ain't seen you since the funeral." He said.
"Well enough to get by." Miriel replied.
"If it ever get' too hard, stop by fo' some suppa'. Jurrie'll whip up a feast with the rest 'o the women. That'll get you out the dumps fo' sure."
"That would be lovely," She giggled,"But you are all busy enough. And you would slack off, Mister Mir."
He laughed.
"Nothin' wrong with some fun 'n a while. When you're this old, nothin' interestin' happens much."
"Are you not worried what those interesting things might do at your age?" Miriel said..
"Who knows, 'A might jus' kick the bucket." He raised his head and laughed aloud with his hands on his belly.
Mir stared at the town.
"That was Terloff's kid ain't it, who ran off?" He asked.
"It was." She nodded.
"'Seems the kid's still avoidin' us. Didn't even think he'd return if he lived."
"Even a lost child will wander home." Miriel said.
Her eyes darted to where Mark ran off.
"He will not run away forever." She continued.
"Take care of 'im will ya? Terloff 'in't talk much but worked damn hard. We owe him a lot."
Miriel turned to Mir and nodded.
"An' is the word 'bout two of you gettin' married true?" Mir asked.
"As our plans go." She replied.
"Send 'im to the farm before ya' do. We'll straighten 'im up in a month."
Miriel held her chin as she tilted her head down.
"That would be helpful." She said, turning to Mir.
"You do 'n we'll take care of everythin'' else. Might return 'im a bit late though."
"So long as you return him for dinner."
The sun was halfway through the gradual fall from its peak.
"I shall return now, Mister Mir." Miriel said.
"Take care girlie. If ya' need help, jus' send the word." Mir replied.
She held a palm to her chest and bowed.
Miriel put her hat on then left for the mansion.