Read Online Jeanne G'Fellers - Sister Lost, Sister Found by Jeanne G'Fellers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jeanne G'Fellers
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where to start.”
“Try the beginning.” Terry chuckled. “Pick up something and describe it to me.”
“Yes, Granny Terry.” Rankil untied the first cloth-wrapped bundle, revealing chalk sticks and a small slate, similar to the one Rankil had seen her father use for crop tallies. “A reusable scribe board, Granny.”
“What an unusual gift. What else is there?”
Rankil gasped when the wrapping fell away from the second sizable bundle. “New clothes. Skirts with attached leggings.” She passed both sets to Terry who smiled.
“I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only one upset by your raggedness.”
“Matching tunics, too.” Rankil placed these in her lap as well, drawing the old woman’s fingertips across the fronts. “Feel. They’ve piping at the collar and cuff.”
“So they do.” Terry nodded. “These new things mean we can use the green fabric for the finery it was meant for.” She placed the garments on the bench. “Now, I know there is more than that in three sacks. What other treasures have your people left for you?”
Rankil remained silent as she unwrapped the next bundle. Not all the gifts were intended exclusively for her. “Something for you, Granny.” She draped a fringed shawl over her grandmother’s sloping shoulders. “However do they tat such patterns?”
“I wish I knew.” Terry’s face shone thanks for the unexpected kindness. She held the fringe to her face. “How does it look on me?”
“Pretty.”
Terry blushed. “I always wanted a Taelach shawl.” She settled back into her seat, rocking as she drew it across her shoulders. “But only the finest ladies can afford them. And the fact this one came by honest means makes it all the more special.”
“You deserve it.” Rankil turned back to the sack. The bottom contained a sleeping roll. The inside liner was of the softest fur and the top blankets protected by a water repellant hide coverlet.
“Why would they give me this?” Rankil placed the end in Terry’s lap.
“They’d no idea what you did and didn’t have so they’ve made certain all your needs are met.” Terry stroked the liner’s inner corner. “Letcher bear fur. And it’s been cured free of stench. Just as well they gave this. I’d been wondering how we were going to handle the winter with the blankets we have.” The kettle began to whistle. “Tell me what else you find as I cook.” She shuffled to the fireside, pushed the kettle’s rod from the flame and began heating the previous day’s roast drippings for gravy.
“You need me to milk the nassie?” Rankil hoped the chore had already been done. There was so much here just for her, and she had just begun. She’d never dreamed of such luxury. Why, she was rich!
“The bucket’s on the porch. There’s enough in it for morn sup. You can finish up after we eat. I stopped when I heard the bell.” Rankil brought in the bucket then dove into the second sack. Another blanket roll lay at the top.
“They sent a roll for you, too, Granny.” Rankil left the bedding tied and reached back into the bag. “What the—” She pulled out a light wooden case with a beautifully carved top. The lid was hinged with brass and key locked, the bone key hanging from a string wedged into the top. The lid creaked as she folded it back. “Granny!”
The elderly woman spun on her heels to face Rankil. “Something wrong?”
“Arrows! A box full of arrows and a small bow!”
“A short bow unless I miss my guess.” The meat pan sizzled as Terry poured milk over her roux. “I’ve treated enough Hunt riders to know the bow is the choice for most Taelachs when they fight. You’ll have to practice at it to be as good as others your age, I’ll wager. Knives and bows, that’s what the Taelach use, even the wee ones. I suspect there’ll be a knife for you in the sacks as well.”
“A knife?” Rankil’s forehead creased in confusion. “But we’ve plenty of knives. Why would we need more?”
“Not
“Try the beginning.” Terry chuckled. “Pick up something and describe it to me.”
“Yes, Granny Terry.” Rankil untied the first cloth-wrapped bundle, revealing chalk sticks and a small slate, similar to the one Rankil had seen her father use for crop tallies. “A reusable scribe board, Granny.”
“What an unusual gift. What else is there?”
Rankil gasped when the wrapping fell away from the second sizable bundle. “New clothes. Skirts with attached leggings.” She passed both sets to Terry who smiled.
“I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only one upset by your raggedness.”
“Matching tunics, too.” Rankil placed these in her lap as well, drawing the old woman’s fingertips across the fronts. “Feel. They’ve piping at the collar and cuff.”
“So they do.” Terry nodded. “These new things mean we can use the green fabric for the finery it was meant for.” She placed the garments on the bench. “Now, I know there is more than that in three sacks. What other treasures have your people left for you?”
Rankil remained silent as she unwrapped the next bundle. Not all the gifts were intended exclusively for her. “Something for you, Granny.” She draped a fringed shawl over her grandmother’s sloping shoulders. “However do they tat such patterns?”
“I wish I knew.” Terry’s face shone thanks for the unexpected kindness. She held the fringe to her face. “How does it look on me?”
“Pretty.”
Terry blushed. “I always wanted a Taelach shawl.” She settled back into her seat, rocking as she drew it across her shoulders. “But only the finest ladies can afford them. And the fact this one came by honest means makes it all the more special.”
“You deserve it.” Rankil turned back to the sack. The bottom contained a sleeping roll. The inside liner was of the softest fur and the top blankets protected by a water repellant hide coverlet.
“Why would they give me this?” Rankil placed the end in Terry’s lap.
“They’d no idea what you did and didn’t have so they’ve made certain all your needs are met.” Terry stroked the liner’s inner corner. “Letcher bear fur. And it’s been cured free of stench. Just as well they gave this. I’d been wondering how we were going to handle the winter with the blankets we have.” The kettle began to whistle. “Tell me what else you find as I cook.” She shuffled to the fireside, pushed the kettle’s rod from the flame and began heating the previous day’s roast drippings for gravy.
“You need me to milk the nassie?” Rankil hoped the chore had already been done. There was so much here just for her, and she had just begun. She’d never dreamed of such luxury. Why, she was rich!
“The bucket’s on the porch. There’s enough in it for morn sup. You can finish up after we eat. I stopped when I heard the bell.” Rankil brought in the bucket then dove into the second sack. Another blanket roll lay at the top.
“They sent a roll for you, too, Granny.” Rankil left the bedding tied and reached back into the bag. “What the—” She pulled out a light wooden case with a beautifully carved top. The lid was hinged with brass and key locked, the bone key hanging from a string wedged into the top. The lid creaked as she folded it back. “Granny!”
The elderly woman spun on her heels to face Rankil. “Something wrong?”
“Arrows! A box full of arrows and a small bow!”
“A short bow unless I miss my guess.” The meat pan sizzled as Terry poured milk over her roux. “I’ve treated enough Hunt riders to know the bow is the choice for most Taelachs when they fight. You’ll have to practice at it to be as good as others your age, I’ll wager. Knives and bows, that’s what the Taelach use, even the wee ones. I suspect there’ll be a knife for you in the sacks as well.”
“A knife?” Rankil’s forehead creased in confusion. “But we’ve plenty of knives. Why would we need more?”
“Not
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