Ancient of Dunáya Chapter 6: Value

The value of a soul has little to do with how famous he is capable of becoming, but rather by how much he is capable of loving.---Wesley of Dunáya

Sirah shuffled into the inn's dining area with a wobbling cup in her hand. Her hair was in a long, matted braid, and her features appeared more bulbous and irregular than those of the other humans crowding the common room. She wore a faded blue dress and a dirty apron. The arm not carrying the cup twisted sharply at her chest and appeared red, frail, and useless. Her lower lip glistened with spittle, and protruded, revealing large incisors. She glanced at the innkeeper. Then holding out the cup, smiled at Kareth. "Tea fo' you."

"Thank you, Sirah." Kareth took the cup.

Standing, Elnore Manallister glared down Sirah. "I told you to never serve the guests! You fool girl, get out of here! Go find Master Manallister!"

"My fend!" insisted Sirah. She pointed at Kareth with her good arm.

The innkeeper shoved her against the wall. "Get out! Clean up whatever mess you've made! Master Manallister will wup you if you don't." Shuddering, Sirah shuffled to a door. When it opened, Kareth saw a large, dirty man in a dirty apron; the man scowled at Sirah. The door closed. The innkeeper sighed and sat down.

"Why do you yell at her and hurt her?" said Kareth. "I don't think she likes it."

"Oh, that's the only way she understands me," said Elnor with a wave of her hand. "She's a fool, you know. She don't understand nothin' she don't feel."

"That's silly because she understands me fine, and I never did anything to hurt her." Kareth tasted the dark liquid in the cup; it was bitter, yet satisfied some tension in her and she felt less weak. "What can you tell me about her?"

"That fool? Why you want to know?"

"She's my friend," said Kareth, taking another sip. "She helped me. She's the nicest human I've ever met."

Elnore shook her head. "Crazy," she muttered, then said, "Her mama came here some twenty year ago. Stayed at my inn. Asked if I'd watch her baby while she took a drink in that forest a yers, and she never come back. I didn't have the heart to do away with the child. Grew up to be a fool. Maybe her mama knew, and didn't want her no more. Understandable. She works hard, though. Not a talker."

Sirah stumbled out of the door as though she had been pushed. She clutched a broom under her good arm and glanced at Kareth before shuffling to an empty table. She swept remarkably well for how the broom wobbled in her one-handed grasp. Her work resulted in a small pile of lint and crumbs; she moved to another table.

"Sirah said it was her fault that her mama died," said Kareth. "Is that true?"

Elnore shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe she's not dead. Or maybe some wild animal ate her up."

"But why would Sirah say something like that?"

Elnore's eyes tensed in uneasiness. "She don't like strangers. I'm surprised she talked at all. Or that you'd listen."

"Why wouldn't I listen?"

"Few what understands her," said Elnore. "I do, mostly. She don't understand much, unless I use my fist, or my man, Master Manallister."

"You shouldn't hit her," said Kareth. "She doesn't like it."

Elnore's face reddened and her voice sounded rougher when she said, "She don't know nothin'. You don't know nothin' 'bout it."

Kareth slapped the table with both hands. "But she does! She understands more than I do."

A boy at table with some bigger boys held a stick in Sirah's path; she tripped and her face scudded on the stone floor. Sirah shrieked; the boy and several others in the room laughed. She struggled to stand, and another boy pushed her down. "Freak!" he laughed, pointing. "She's so dumb she can't even get up!" A third boy pushed her, and she crumpled into a shaking ball.

Kareth crossed the room. The boys stopped laughing at her approach, and she helped the limp Sirah to her feet. "Why are you hurting her?" said Kareth. "Are all humans violent? Why don't you push each other, instead of pushing someone who doesn't push back?"

The boys dashed out the door without saying a word.

Kareth smiled and took Sirah's broom. "Can I study you?" she said. "Would you like to live with me in the forest?"

"I don' wamemba dat fas'," said Sirah. I don't remember that fast. What Sirah meant was she didn't know how to answer the question.

"What happened to your other arm?" said Kareth. "That broom wasn't built for you, I think."

Sirah gestured at the floor. "Meh." The feeling Kareth got came in an image more than in words. The mess all the people leave when they eat is my responsibility. "Mih ih way ie," she said. Mistress waiting.

She swept around another empty table. Kareth watched her ungraceful movements, how the bristles missed half of the crumbs on the floor. Sirah swept the same one-pace area five times before she moved on to the next. Kareth concentrated on the life-sparks of the lint and crumbs, to move them to the dustpan, to help Sirah finish. Nothing. She couldn't even tell they were there unless she looked at them, and that was difficult enough in the shadow under the table. She felt a hole inside, a loss of part of herself.

Sirah had never known anything about Ancients, life sparks, or doing things without using her one good hand, and still she swept the floor, probably several times a day. She didn't give up, and neither would Kareth.

Kareth sat with the innkeeper again. "Can I take her with me, when I go back to the forest? You wouldn't have to worry about her any more. I want her to teach me. I like her."

"You want her? You must be a fool, Kareth. You goin' ta take her into yer secret soci'ty and make her an Ancient, too? Teach her to read and write? Ha. Her brain don't work that way. She don't even know her own head."

"I don't think it's possible to make her an Ancient, because she's a human. But I want to take her with me, because I can give her a more pleasant place to live. What's that smell in her room?"

Elnore laughed. "That smell is her stinking, filthy clutter. She pisses herself sometimes, and then there's the dead kittens. Ancestors only know what's in there. I try to make her clean it, but she don't listen. It's clean one day, and filthy the next. I make her bathe, so she's presentable. Good I keep her up in the storage room, so the smell don't affect my guests. What'll you give me for her?"

"Give you? Why would I give you anything?"

The innkeeper laughed again, shaking her head. "You are a strange one, Kareth. She works for me. Who'll clean my latrines when she's gone?"

"I would think that would be your responsibility, Elnore Manallister. What are latrines?"

"Where do you crap in Dunya, girl?"

"Crap? What are you talking about?"

"Express waste. Visit the hut." Elnore raised one eyebrow, and twisted one side of her lips.

"I don't waste anything."

"You are out of your mind." Elnore shook her head. "If you want Sirah, you'll have to give me something for her."

"I don't have anything. Not here, anyway. I wonder if I could still make something if I was close to the pool? Maybe that horrible man left some gold. What would you like?"

"Something I can use. Gold sounds good. Bring it to me and I'll give you Sirah."

"Why can't she just come with me? Other people in the inn seem to come and go as they please."

"Yes, well, but most of 'em doesn't work for me."

Cup now empty, Kareth stood, and her legs wobbled so she sat again. She remembered that Mona gave her food when Kareth had felt weak. "Can I have something to eat before I go?"

"You don't got nothin' to pay with." Elnore stood. "But, you did hafta wake up in Sirah's filth, so I owe ya at least a meal. Bread and more tea should do ya fine, I think."

When the woman walked away, Kareth noticed Sirah watching her. "I'm sorry she hurt you, Sirah. Would you like to come and live with me? You can teach me about things."

Sirah approached her. "Inn," she said.

"I know this is your home, but I would love to have you live with me. You can show me what it's like to be a human. I'm sure there are lots of things you can teach me. Mona said I should learn from humans, and I'd rather study a pleasant one, than one that's violent."

Sirah's eyes twitched and widened. "I ne'er been fores'."

"I'm sure you'll like it there. If I never hurt you, will you keep yourself clean? I don't want to have to smell your room again."

Sirah smiled. "I kean."

"I'm sure you'll keep very clean. How do humans bathe?"

"Wa'er. Soap."

Elnore brought two slices of bread on a cracked plate, and placed them before Kareth. The woman glared at Sirah, and Sirah ran to the stairs. Kareth ate and felt strong enough to go home. "I'll come back tomorrow for Sirah," she told the innkeeper. "As soon as I can get here."

The innkeeper grunted. "S'long as it ain't too early. My man an' I sleeps in."

Elnore led her to the door leading outside. "Tomorrow not early, then?" said Kareth.

"Just be sure you bring gold," mumbled the innkeeper.

Darkness filled the square when Kareth left the inn. Silence also. No stars twinkled in the sky. Mists that swirled around the streets edged everything in ice. Droplets of water drizzled onto her face and body, and she shivered with the idea that she had no idea how to get home. She closed her eyes and relished the fresh chill of the water on her. Fingers and arms tingled: She felt the life sparks of the pool, off to the right, and followed.

Hearing a noise behind her as she entered the forest, she turned. A dark bundle wobbled to her. "Kayie!" Sirah's voice. Kareth recognized the dim outline of the woman's face, and the tears on her cheeks. Kareth touched her friend's shoulder. "Sirah, I was coming for you tomorrow. What are you doing here?"

Sirah grunted. You not come. Mistress not let me.

"Why wouldn't your mistress let you come with me?"

Sirah stood erect, shoulders back and back straight. "I no buy." I don't want to be bought is what Kareth understood, as though Kareth giving gold to the innkeeper would shame Sirah. With her one good hand, the woman grasped Kareth's dress. Sirah continued, She take gold, she hide me. She not let me go. You not get me! You take me now! The words she spoke were hardly more than random consonants and vowels spoken quickly.

Kareth embraced Sirah. "I did think it was silly giving Elnore Manallister gold for you, but I don't know anything. See, you've just taught me that I shouldn't buy people. And I really would have come for you."

Sirah laughed. "Tank you. Why you no shawl?"

"Shawl? Is that the thick thing you're wearing around your shoulders? I didn't think to make one earlier when I could, and no one has given me one. Does it help you stay warm?"

"Ye'."

"Well, I'll be all right. I may shiver, but I can't die." She straightened Sirah's shawl when the woman tried to shake it off her own shoulders. "No, I don't need yours, Sirah. But thank you." They proceeded into the forest. "I'm glad you've come because I really didn't like Elnore Manallister, and I don't want to study her any more. Are all humans violent and mean?"

"No..." Sirah said slowly. "I don' wamembo dat fas'. No, some nie."

"I'm glad to know that some humans are nice. I hope I can find some more. More humans like you."

"Li'e me!" Sirah clapped awkwardly, and her shawl fell to the wet ground. Kareth picked it up and wrapped it snuggly around her friend.

They stepped along the path to her home, though Kareth had no hope of finding shelter there. She wished she had known to ask Elnore for a shawl, or a blanket. Shoes would have protected her feet. She pictured the weave of the dress Mona had made, concentrated on the life sparks. Then, she concentrated on the life sparks she felt in the pool and asked them to come to her in the form of thick cloth. Nothing happened, as though the pool couldn't hear her. At least she felt the existence of the pool, if not its love, or she would be lost in the forest.

"Dirsty," said Sirah.

"I am a little, too, with all this walking."

Sirah rose her face to the wet sky and held out her tongue, where droplets of water drizzled into her mouth. Kareth did the same. The water tasted fresh, cool, earthy as it dripped from the leaves overhead, and they laughed. Something about the experience exhilarated Kareth, and the two women ran through the trees, arms outstretched. They continued through the forest, arm in arm, or running, laughing. Kareth remained silent, content. Sirah's eyes sparkled; she had said she had never been in the forest, and so likely shared Kareth's delight.

Pale gray light filtered overhead as they came to the pool's clearing. Dawn. They halted. A dark, crumpled figure lay next to the pool; the women approached. The light brightened, and Kareth saw that the man lay on his chest, a stinking mass of larvae and smell, arms outstretched, barefoot, with his shoulders not quite touching the water. Instead of a head, tendrils of rotting flesh swirled from his neck and disintegrated on the surface of the water. His head was gone.

Sirah cried out and clung to Kareth. The Ancient shuddered at the sight, covered her mouth, and wrapped an arm around Sirah. "Let's get away from here," Kareth said.

*Images courtesy of
A Nature Blog
pintrest

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This is chapter 6 of 8 that have been submitted to the ghostwriter project by the original author.
Here are the previous chapters in case you're just coming to this project now.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5