74 Mother I (2/2)
”Are you certain your husband will be fine with this? I thought we would be sleeping in a stable or shed.”
”Nonsense.” The woman laughed. ”He is out on a hunt right now, but if he were here, he would have welcomed the two of you with open arms. Come in and make yourselves comfortable. I will prepare you something to recover from the long ride.”
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Jeanne had a restless sleep, waking up often in the cottage room. A big window let moonlight flow in, which she was thankful for, because she hated the dark. But more than that, mother had gone to talk with the cottage woman and hadn't come back to sleep by her side, and Jeanne couldn't sleep properly without her.
The cottage woman had made Jeanne and mother a drink out of herbs, and though Jeanne hated herbs and thought it would taste foul, it was surprisingly sweet, like the honeymilk that mother sometimes bought for Jeanne, though recently there hadn't been enough coin to spare for that.
The herbal drink gave Jeanne a burst of energy, and this coupled with her mother's absence, made it impossible to sleep properly.
But Jeanne didn't mind much. Mother had always told her to be brave and stand up to the struggles the world threw at her, and she figured she was doing a good job by never complaining that she wanted honeymilk every now and then.
An hour later, though, and Jeanne, wrapped up like a miniature monk in warm animal skins, shuddered not because she was cold, but because mother had been gone for so long. She scooted to the wall, pressing her ear to it, and she could hear murmurs as mother and the woman continued to talk.
Jeanne quietly put the skins down and creeped to the door. Mother talked a lot with people, people they never saw again as they travelled, but even so, mother never let her hear what they ever talked about.
A lot of the time, mother would talk to people in hoods, and those scared Jeanne enough that she usually didn't want to stick around to hear anyway. She always admired mother for being brave enough to stand up to the hoods.
Jeanne knew mother wouldn't like it if she sneaked out of the room while she was talking, but Jeanne couldn't wait any longer. On her tiptoes, she gently opened the door, hoping it wouldn't creak. It didn't, and she made her way out, hiding behind a bookcase.
Though all she could see was dark wooden walls in front of her and the faint light of the fireplace in her periphery vison, she could hear mother and the woman's voices clearer now.
”And where will you go?” said the woman.
”North.” Mother's voice. It sounded tired. Quiet. Wavering. Jeanne was surprised. Mother's voice usually never sounded like that. ”Past Montagne. The Elves still have temples dedicated to the old light, so I am certain they will take me in.”
A pause.
”Nonsense,” said the woman firmly. ”You will never make it that far. Even if you did manage to get to Montagne, crossing the mountains will require far, far more than healing spells, and with the ongoing purge, nobody will lift a finger to help you. And the elves are a gamble. They may worship the old light, but they will have no pity for a southerner such as yourself.”
”And how would you know?” Mother sounded almost angry.
”Then look upon me, and you will know I do not speak of matters I know nothing of.” There was a rustling sound, and then an audible gasp.
”You, you're…,” said mother. Mother was usually never surprised. Jeanne wanted to leave her hiding spot, her hands starting to sweat, but she resisted the temptation.
”Yes, I admit it,” said mother after a moment. She sighed. ”It is folly, but I must still leave. I must continue north, somewhere far, far from here. They may find me, but if I can just go far enough north, then they will not find her, because if they do find her-”
Mother's voice caught in her throat.
”I know,” said the woman, her comforting, sing-song voice back again. ”I know.”
”I am a terrible mother. For what I am to do, no amount of prayer will ever forgive me.”
”For what you have to do.” The woman's voice became firm again. ”I know not the doctrines of your god, but I would never hold this decision against you. It is the right one, no matter how painful it may be, and you have my word that she will be taken care of.”
”I hear that an oath made by your kind is never broken. Please, tell me that is true.”
”It is.”
Another pause. Jeanne thought about going back to the room, but then she heard mother starting to sob.
”I can't do this,” said mother. ”I cannot.”
Jeanne could not bear it any longer and burst out of her cover. It hurt her so much to hear mother crying because mother never cried, no matter how penniless or tired or hurt they got, and so something really, really big must have happened to get her like this.
”Mama, what's wrong?” said Jeanne as she came up to mother sitting next to the woman around a small table. Jeanne tried her best to comfort mother by running up and hugging her waist, but mother, cried even harder, her belly heaving up and down as she took in quick breaths in between sobs.
Jeanne started crying too. She did not know why, but she couldn't help herself seeing mother like this. When mother reached down and felt Jeanne's tears with her soft and warm fingers, mother stopped crying immediately, almost like a switch had been flipped.
”I'm sorry, my little sun, mother was just a little tired.” Mother ran a hand through Jeanne's hair, tousling it. She hunched over and picked scooped Jeanne up in her arms. ”You must have been so very lonely. Come, let us go to sleep.”