Chapter 246 — An Afternoon for the Women

Ren was already dressed when Nia came into the main chamber that morning, sitting beside Shen with his hair loosely tied while Shen finished cutting preserved fruit for breakfast. He looked considerably better than he had when he arrived home the previous afternoon, although he was still sitting with his left shoulder turned slightly away from the edge of the table.

“You could have stayed in bed longer,” Nia told him, coming up behind his chair and resting her hands on his shoulders.

Ren tilted his head back to look at her. “I did stay in bed. You were there for most of it.”

“That isn't what I meant, and you know it.”

“I know.” He caught one of her hands and kissed her fingers. “I woke up hungry. Shen was already here, and I thought I'd keep him company until breakfast was ready.”

Shen moved the fruit into a small bowl. “He also wanted to know whether anything sweet remained from yesterday.”

“That was part of keeping you company.”

“Of course it was.”

Nia bent to kiss Ren before taking her seat. Kael joined them shortly afterward, bringing the smell of cool morning air with him. He had already spoken with a patrol male near the upper passage, and Ren wanted to know whether the eastern road restrictions had changed during his absence.

Their conversation continued over breakfast, with Shen occasionally contributing a detail when the subject touched on supplies or the condition of a storage area. Nia listened while eating her grain cakes, then interrupted to ask whether Ren intended to spend the entire morning discussing trade when he had only just returned.

“I'm sitting at home with my wife,” Ren replied. “I can think of worse ways to conduct business.”

“You could also conduct less of it.”

Kael reached for another piece of meat. “Soren has the receiving work. Ren can leave the rest until tomorrow.”

Ren gave him a long look. “You sound remarkably pleased to have someone else telling me to stop.”

“I've had practice.”

Shen reminded Nia about the afternoon gathering while clearing the breakfast things. She assured him that she remembered, although Ayari had already reminded her enough times that forgetting would have required some effort. By the time the midday meal was finished, she had changed into lighter clothing and tied her hair comfortably out of the way.

Ren kissed her goodbye near the entrance, his hand resting at her waist.

“Enjoy yourself. I expect to hear something interesting when you return.”

“It's an afternoon with Ayari. I doubt I'll have a choice.”

“Then I'll look forward to it.”

Nia left him smiling and made her way down through Hearthfang.

The lower paths had grown pleasant with the advancing spring. Sunlight reached farther into the passages now, warming exposed stretches of stone, while greenery filled cracks that had looked bare throughout winter. People were moving between the communal areas and residential paths without the heavy wraps and cautious footing the cold season had required.

She heard the women before she saw them.

“I told him I wanted the smaller basket,” someone was saying. “He came home carrying the largest one the seller had.”

“That sounds useful,” Ayari answered.

“Useful for whom? I can barely lift it when it's empty.”

Nia rounded the last bend to find five women gathered near the lower pond. Sera had chosen a sheltered stretch of bank where the ground rose above the water, and several sitting mats and low stools occupied the shade beneath the rocky slope. A covered water vessel stood on a broad stone within easy reach, while two baskets rested near the women.

Ayari noticed Nia immediately and waved her over.

“You've arrived at the right time. Pella is explaining why her household apparently needs a basket large enough to carry a grown male.”

Pella looked mildly exasperated, although she was smiling. “He thought I would appreciate having more space. I told him the smaller basket was for carrying things myself, but he was so pleased with what he'd found that I didn't have the heart to complain immediately.”

“Then make him carry it,” Luma suggested. “He bought it. He should be the one lifting it.”

“That was my conclusion too. He looked rather surprised when I told him.”

“Perhaps he thought you would admire it from a distance,” Nia said as she settled beside Ayari.

“Then he should have brought me something prettier.”

Tessa laughed at that. She was sitting a little farther along the bank with a blue-green patterned cloth draped around her shoulders. Nia recognized the description Ayari had given of the woven lengths Tessa's relatives had brought along the southern route, although the colors were more striking in person.

Sera reached over and touched Nia's sleeve. “You ate before coming?”

“Yes. All three husbands were there to make certain of it.”

“Good. I brought water, but I wasn't intending to prepare another meal.”

“That's fortunate,” Luma said, opening the basket at her side. “I brought enough sweets to make everyone regret eating too much beforehand.”

Pella reached for her own basket and lifted out a shallow dish covered with cloth. More of her sweet-root slices were wrapped separately underneath, ready to be divided later if anyone wanted to take some home.

“I brought mine too. I wasn't certain yours would be ready today.”

“They were ready yesterday,” Luma told her. “I had to stop my husband from eating the ones I'd put aside.”

Ayari leaned forward with unmistakable interest. “Then we should try them before either of you decides to take them home again.”

Nia had barely settled comfortably before the food began making its way around the gathering. Luma had prepared small folded pieces of grain mixture with preserved berries pressed into their centers. The edges had browned lightly during cooking, while the fruit remained soft enough to release a little juice when bitten.

Pella's offering was quite different. She had sliced sweet root thinly and coated the pieces with honey-bark syrup before drying them until their outsides became slightly sticky. A few had curled around the edges, giving them an appearance that Nia found particularly appealing.

She tasted Luma's first and enjoyed the contrast between the tender grain and sharp fruit.

“My youngest husband wanted to mix the fruit through everything,” Luma said while watching her. “I told him I liked finding it in the middle. He's convinced I only disagreed because he suggested it.”

“He could make his own version,” Nia suggested.

“He did. We ate both. Mine disappeared first, although he insists that's because I made fewer.”

“That sounds like something my household would argue about,” Tessa remarked. “I've had to remind them that eating something isn't the same as proving which version is better.”

Pella passed her dish to Nia. “Try one of these while you're still deciding what to say about Luma's.”

Nia accepted a slice and bit through the lightly resistant coating. The sweetness was stronger than Luma's fruit-filled pieces, but the root retained enough of its own flavor to keep the syrup from overwhelming it.

“Oh, I like these.”

“Be careful,” Ayari warned. “I've already eaten three, and I'm still thinking about another.”

Pella looked pleased. “Take another, then. I made plenty.”

Luma reached for one herself. “They're good. I thought the root would stay softer, but I like it this way.”

“It took longer to dry than I expected,” Pella admitted. “My husband kept checking the tray because he thought I'd forgotten it. I finally told him that if he was so worried about the food, he could sit beside it and watch.”

Tessa examined the piece in her hand. “Mine would have eaten one before it finished. Then he would complain that it was too sticky, even though he'd been told to leave it alone.”

“My husband did eat one early,” Pella confessed. “He told me it tasted good. I asked whether he thought that meant it was finished, and he couldn't decide what to say.”

Ayari reached for another slice. “I think I'd have eaten one too.”

“You would,” Sera said. “And then you'd have asked whether there was something else to eat while you waited.”

Ayari accepted the observation with a cheerful smile.

Pella tucked the cloth away from the dish, and as the women continued eating, she complained about someone in her household moving her drying trays whenever he needed more space for his own work.

“It's always somewhere different when I return. He thinks the most convenient place is wherever he happens to be working.”

“My household does that with sitting stools,” Luma said. “They move them around all day, then everyone complains when one is missing at supper. I finally told them that if I had to go looking for my own stool again, I was going to start taking theirs.”

Tessa stretched her legs. “I keep one beside my sleeping area. Nobody borrows it anymore because I told them to ask me first.”

“I should try that,” Ayari said.

“You'll forget your own rule before they do,” Sera told her.

Ayari considered the accusation and accepted it with a cheerful shrug.

Luma shook her head, still thinking about the stools. “It's worse now that the weather is warming. They're moving everything. One of my husbands wants to sleep nearer the outer wall because he likes the cooler air, another complains about the light reaching that space in the morning, and the third has moved his coverings twice because he's tired of hearing the other two argue.”

“Surely they can decide where they want to sleep without troubling you,” Tessa said.

“They can, but none of them wants to move far from me. So they keep changing their places while leaving mine exactly where it is. I told them to argue after I'd fallen asleep, and they were quiet for one evening. The next morning they started again.”

Sera listened with the faint amusement of someone who had lived through more than enough household disagreements to recognize an ordinary one. “They'll settle eventually. Or they'll become tired of moving everything and leave it where it is.”

“I've decided not to help. They can lift their own coverings.”

Nia smiled over the rim of her cup. She could imagine Kael deciding where something belonged and considering the matter finished, while Shen would probably want to know whether the arrangement was actually comfortable before accepting it. Ren, on the other hand, might simply move somewhere more convenient and make everyone else wonder when he'd done it.

Ayari noticed her expression.

“Your husbands would argue differently, wouldn't they?”

“They'd probably handle the same disagreement three different ways. I don't think they'd spend very long moving the same things back and forth, though.”

“Then you should be grateful,” Luma said. “I'm waiting to see whether mine eventually decide to sleep exactly where they started.”

Tessa adjusted the cloth around her shoulders. “And when they do, don't let them pretend they've discovered a better arrangement.”

The afternoon settled around them as comfortably as the warmth coming off the stone. A light breeze crossed the pond, stirring the pale flowers along its banks, and now and then someone passing along the lower path called a greeting. Sera knew most of them, although Ayari seemed incapable of letting anyone pass without asking after a relative, a household matter, or something she'd heard at the market.

At one point, two women walked past carrying empty gathering baskets. They were arguing about whether a patch of young greens had recovered enough from the last cold spell to be gathered again. Neither looked toward the pond until Sera greeted them, and even then they only paused long enough to return the greeting before resuming their disagreement.

Tessa watched them disappear. “They've been talking about those greens since the spring market. They went to look at them yesterday, and apparently that didn't settle anything.”

“Perhaps they'll agree once they actually gather some,” Luma said.

“Or they'll argue about whether they should have waited another day.”

Ayari wanted to know which woman had been right the first time, but Tessa didn't know. She was more interested in the fact that the disagreement had continued long enough for several people to hear about it.

Pella had begun telling Sera about her children when a boy appeared on the path beyond the pond, carrying a smaller child across a muddy patch. The smaller one was protesting loudly despite having both arms wrapped around his brother's neck.

“I said I could walk!”

“You sat down!”

“Because you were going too fast!”

“Then stop following me!”

The older boy carried him across the mud and set him down on dry ground. His brother immediately hurried ahead, apparently having forgotten that his legs had been too tired to continue a moment earlier.

Pella watched them with recognition. “My youngest would do exactly that. His brothers are forever telling him to stop following them, but then they end up carrying him home. Last week he climbed onto a storage ledge because he wanted to prove he could reach it. Once he was up there, he decided he didn't like the way the ground looked.”

“Did he come down himself?” Ayari asked.

“Eventually. He spent more time arguing with his brothers about it than he spent climbing. Yesterday he threatened to do it again because they keep teasing him.”

Sera shook her head. “At least he waited rather than jumping.”

“That's what I told myself after I stopped being angry. I think he'd have stayed there until supper if we hadn't gone to see what all the shouting was about.”

The women continued talking about the children for a little while, although Tessa soon had something else to complain about. Two members of her household had spent the previous evening debating whether a particular trader had cheated them. They had returned home satisfied with their purchase, only to begin questioning the bargain after supper.

“I finally told them that if they wanted to argue about the price, they should have done it before handing over the goods,” she said. “One of them looked offended. The other admitted I was right, which only made the first one more annoyed. They'd already brought everything home, so I don't know what they expected me to do about it.”

Ayari rested her elbows on her knees. “I enjoy a good bargain, but I wouldn't want to spend my whole evening discussing one.”

“That's because you leave most of the serious bargaining to your husbands,” Tessa replied.

“Of course I do. They're better at it, and I enjoy watching them.”

Luma smiled. “I think Ayari enjoys watching people do almost anything as long as they're interesting.”

“I certainly prefer that to watching people do something boring. I've watched Bram sort grain often enough to know I don't enjoy the work, although I do enjoy sitting with him while he does it.”

Sera chuckled. “That's a distinction worth remembering.”

Ayari didn't seem troubled by the observation. She began describing how she'd once fallen asleep while keeping Bram company, only to discover afterward that he'd remained in the same uncomfortable position because he hadn't wanted to disturb her.

“I told him he should have moved. His leg was stiff for the rest of the evening.”

“He must have been uncomfortable,” Pella said.

“He was, but he told me I looked comfortable and invited me to sit with him again the next day. I suppose he decided it was worth having a stiff leg.”

“I'd have been annoyed,” Tessa said. “I wouldn't want my husband hurting himself when he could simply wake me.”

Pella thought Bram sounded sweet, and Luma could understand both reactions.

“You can't always stop them,” Luma said. “Sometimes they decide something is worth doing, and explaining otherwise becomes more trouble than letting them finish.”

Nia thought of the way Kael would sometimes remain in an awkward position rather than disturb her when she'd fallen asleep against him. She understood the affection behind it, even if she would rather he moved when he needed to.

Sera rose after a while to stretch her legs. Nia shifted closer to the water with Ayari, taking advantage of a broad stone that had warmed beneath the afternoon sunlight. The pond was quiet enough for them to see pale shapes moving below the surface, and several small insects skimmed across the water near the reeds.

Tessa came over a little later, spreading her patterned cloth more comfortably around her shoulders as she sat.

Nia had admired it since arriving. Up close, the woven pattern was even more beautiful, with green and blue threads crossing in irregular shapes that reminded her of moving water.

“Your relatives brought that from the southern route, didn't they?”

“They did. I kept this length for myself. The others are still at home, although I haven't decided what I want to do with them.”

“I can see why you wanted to keep this one.”

Tessa smoothed the edge across her lap. “It's comfortable too. Everyone keeps suggesting what I ought to make, but I'm perfectly happy wearing it like this for now. If I cut it, I might regret losing the length.”

Ayari leaned closer to examine the pattern. “I like the way the darker threads disappear until the light catches them.”

“That's what caught my attention first. One of my relatives thought I'd prefer a brighter piece, but this was the one I wanted.”

Luma glanced over from her mat. “I still like the green length.”

“You've told me three times.”

“And I'll probably tell you again if you ask.”

Tessa smiled and let the cloth settle around her shoulders. Nia liked that she seemed perfectly content to own something beautiful without needing to turn it into anything more useful.

Pella moved closer to the group, bringing the shallow dish with the remaining sweet-root slices. She offered them around again before settling beside Luma, who had stretched her legs into the sunlight.

“I could sit here until evening,” Luma said. “It's warmer by the water than I expected.”

“You say that now,” Sera answered from farther along the bank. “Once the sun moves behind the slope, you'll be looking for your wrap.”

“Then I'll go home when I get cold.”

Tessa glanced at her. “And miss the pleasure of watching your husbands decide which sleeping cover belongs where?”

“I'd almost forgotten about that. Perhaps I should stay until they've finished arguing.”

Ayari stretched her own legs. “I understand the temptation. There's something pleasant about being somewhere nobody needs you to decide anything.”

Pella nodded while licking a little syrup from her finger. “I love my children, but I don't mind having an afternoon when nobody is hanging from my clothing. I almost stayed home because the youngest was complaining when I left.”

“He wanted to come with you?” Luma asked.

“He wanted to know where I was going. When I told him I was visiting other women, he asked whether there would be children there. I said I didn't know, and he decided he wasn't interested. He was perfectly happy once he heard his brothers were staying home.”

“Then you should have told him there would be adults discussing sleeping covers,” Tessa said. “That would have settled it immediately.”

Pella smiled. “I might try that next time.”

A small bird landed near the far bank, hopping along a narrow strip of exposed stone before lowering its head toward the water. Luma watched it for a moment, then leaned back against her hands.

“There's a place near my household where I like to sit in the evenings. The sunlight reaches the stone long after the passage itself becomes shaded. Sometimes I take a cup and stay there until the light disappears.”

“That sounds lovely,” Nia said.

“It is. One of my husbands joins me occasionally, but he knows I don't always want company. Sometimes I'd rather sit and watch the birds.”

Pella settled more comfortably against her cushion. “I understand that. I like having my hair washed when there's enough time for someone to do it properly. My husband used to ask me questions the whole time because he thought I would be bored. I finally told him I wanted to sit there and enjoy it without having to think about anything.”

Ayari looked delighted. “I might try that. Although I enjoy talking too much to stay quiet for very long.”

“Nobody would believe you were ill unless you stopped talking,” Tessa said.

“Then my husbands would become worried, and I'd have to explain myself. That sounds exhausting.”

Nia smiled, listening to them. She enjoyed the company, but she also understood Luma's pleasure in sitting alone and Pella's desire to have someone else take care of a small task without turning it into a discussion.

Music had always been another pleasure of hers. She missed the easy way she could fill her old apartment with a song while cooking or cleaning, letting the rhythm carry her into an entirely different mood. The memory was private, but the pleasure itself didn't have to remain so.

When Ayari began talking about the music at the last communal gathering, Nia found herself remembering how much she enjoyed dancing.

“I've been meaning to go to one of the evenings when people gather just to enjoy themselves,” she said. “I like dancing, and I haven't done much of it lately.”

Ayari turned toward her with renewed interest. “You should. I don't think I've ever seen you dance properly.”

“You've seen me move around my kitchen.”

“That doesn't count. You're always doing something else at the same time.”

“Then perhaps I should come when there's music and nothing waiting for me to finish.”

Tessa nodded. “That would be a better reason than going somewhere and spending the entire evening preparing food.”

“She's right,” Luma added. “People enjoy your cooking, but you don't have to feed everyone every time you visit.”

Nia accepted the observation without arguing. She liked cooking and sharing what she made, but the idea of spending an evening dancing rather than standing over a hearth sounded increasingly appealing.

Pella smiled a little uncertainly. “I enjoy watching people dance. I'm not particularly good at it myself, but I like the music.”

“Then you should dance anyway,” Nia told her. “I promise nobody needs to be good at it to enjoy themselves.”

Ayari agreed immediately. “I've danced badly often enough. My husbands have survived every time.”

“Perhaps that's because they know better than to complain,” Sera remarked.

Ayari tilted her head, pretending to consider the possibility. “That could explain why they keep dancing with me.”

Luma preferred the slower songs that allowed people to move without crowding one another, while Ayari liked lively gatherings where everyone eventually joined in. Tessa enjoyed watching talented dancers but had little patience for people who tried to make an entire evening about themselves.

“That happened at the last gathering near the lower hearths,” she said. “I went because I heard there would be music, but one male kept insisting that everyone make room for him.”

Ayari remembered the gathering differently. “He was showing off a little, but the others enjoyed it. I thought the music was wonderful that evening.”

“The music was fine. I would have enjoyed more of it if he hadn't kept shouting for the same song.”

Luma looked between them. “I remember a noisy evening, but I'm not certain we're talking about the same one.”

Sera corrected the season in which the gathering had taken place, which started another disagreement because Ayari was certain she remembered the weather.

Pella listened for a while, then lifted the shallow dish.

“Does anyone want the last piece before I put this away?”

Ayari claimed it, and the women continued their disagreement without reaching any particular conclusion.

As the afternoon progressed, the shade moved farther across the bank. Sera refilled several cups, and Luma gathered the remaining grain sweets into her basket to keep them covered. Nobody seemed inclined to leave immediately, although the light had begun to soften and the breeze carried a little more coolness from the water.

Pella was the first to mention going home.

“I told my husband I'd return before the evening meal. He's perfectly capable of managing without me, but I promised to look at something the boys were making.”

“What are they making?” Ayari asked.

“I'm not supposed to know yet.” Pella looked amused. “They've been whispering about it for two days, and whenever I enter the room, someone suddenly decides he needs to stand in front of the worktable.”

“Then pretend you haven't noticed,” Luma advised. “They'll be so pleased when they finally show you.”

“I intend to. Although I hope they haven't used all the good binding cord.”

Tessa smiled at that. “Let them surprise you before worrying about the cord.”

Nia helped gather the sitting mats as the women gradually rose. Pella lifted the shallow serving dish from its place beside her, then opened the separate bundle of sweet-root slices she'd kept covered in her basket. She divided those remaining pieces into small portions for anyone who wanted to carry some home.

Nia accepted a wrapping for Shen, certain that he'd enjoy them, while Ayari took a few for her husbands. Luma packed the rest of her own sweets, and Tessa accepted a little of both after admitting that she wanted something sweet for the walk back.

Sera checked that the bank had been left tidy and told the women to leave the large water vessel where it stood. Someone would collect it when the gathering area was cleared, and there was no need to carry it up the slope unnecessarily.

They lingered even after everything was gathered. Luma remembered something she'd meant to tell Tessa about a household acquaintance, and Pella joined them while Ayari finished talking with Sera. Nia stood near the edge of the shade, enjoying the lingering warmth on her arms.

Eventually the women began making their way toward the main passage, separating naturally as the paths to their homes branched away from the pond.

Pella promised to tell Ayari what her children had made once they finished their surprise. Tessa and Luma continued discussing an evening gathering they both remembered differently, and Sera called a final reminder about the cooler wind before taking her own path.

Nia remained beside Ayari as they climbed.

They had almost reached the next turn when the distant sound of music floated up from one of the lower gathering spaces. Someone was keeping a steady rhythm on a drum, and a second, lighter beat joined it after a few moments.

Nia recognized the rhythm well enough to fall into step with it, her shoulders moving slightly as she walked.

Ayari noticed.

“There! That's what I meant. You hear music, and you start dancing before anyone asks.”

Nia smiled and let her steps follow the beat for another few paces. “I can't help it. Music makes walking more interesting.”

“Then we really must go dancing together sometime.”

Ayari tried following her movement and immediately stepped too far to one side. Nia caught her arm before she bumped against the passage wall, laughing as Ayari straightened herself.

“I think I'll need more practice,” Ayari admitted.

“You'll be fine. Just listen to the rhythm.”

The drum carried faintly up the mountain as they continued along the path, and Ayari tried again, this time finding the beat well enough to make Nia grin.