Chapter One - Bruised Iris
Chapter One
"Come, stay near the fire, honey."
Reluctantly, the littlest of the Trubor children tossed the pinecone back toward the woods and heaved a great sigh as he stomped back to the circle. They were nearly home, only an hour or two further, but darkness had fallen early this eve and Iris had decided it was too far to stumble with no light but the moon to guide them. Her tone had broked no arguement, but some resented the decision anyway.
In various stages of readiness, the Trubor siblings were settling in around a small fire. Before he had fallen asleep, Jasper - who was the eldest and who had tuckered himself out carrying the smaller ones most of the day - said that once they built a fire, it was sure that Pa would see the smoke and bring the wagon out for them. Iris, the next eldest, had agreed with him, but wondered now - as the children started to fall asleep - if they were further away than she thought.
Iris pulled her knees to her chest and looped her arms around them, bright eyes - so blue they were almost indigo - watching as her siblings sprawled about. It crossed her mind, as she resigned herself to yet another mostly sleepless night, spent in worry over the little ones, that being a mother was far more challenging than just cooking and cleaning and washing dirty underthings. No wonder her own mother's hair had gone from a lovely, shiny gold to white in just a few years; no wonder she her heart had given out while Clay was still at the breast. A young woman of fourteen, Iris knew it would not be more than a year or two before she too was wed with an infant of her own and for the first time in her life - she found herself dreading the possibility.
She had helped her Pa rear the little ones, as well as keep Jasper in-line, and even so, she had always looked forward to motherhood. To birthing and nursing a babe of her own. But after a fortnight spent traveling from their Aunt's ranch near Pollydance, every moment filled with anxiety about the dangers of the road, constantly on guard, on edge, vigilant - she felt her very life being sucked away. There was a whole wide world out there and she had never been further from the farm than Pollydance - a village about ten days away on foot.
Jasper snored loudly, breaking her momentary reverie, and rolled to his left. The indignant squeak of little blond Lily, just six years old, brought a smile to Iris' face. The youngest of the girls worshipped her biggest brother like he was some ancient Hero-God like Thaddius Thunderkiss instead of a tow-headed farmboy of sixteen. At home, it was commonplace to find Lily curled up like a faithful old hound at the foot of Jasper's bed, so naturally, here on the road she lay close as possible. Iris supposed that his presence made her feel safe and protected in the same way Pa's nearness had done for her as a little girl.
Its funny, she thought to herself, fidgeting with her own auburn braids, she is so very much as I was, yet I cannot imagine my flighty little Daisy being able to herd a bunch of children half-way across the province as I have. Like all of her siblings - save Iris herself - Daisy had their mother's blond locks, however she too had gotten Pa's thick curls. Iris counted her mother's death as the catalyst that changed her from a giggly child into a woman at the age of ten. She also believed the guilt little Clay felt over their mother's death had tempered his personality. And he, still so young to carry such a burden.
That Clay was her favorite siblin was really no secret. Jasper had been a boisterous playmate turned into a girl-crazy farmhand who scarcely gave a thought to his family in pursuit of a different girl with every turn of the moon. Flint, her twelve-year-old brother, was the spitting image of Jasper at that age - always in trouble and eternally shirking his duties. Daisy was every bit the little girl that Iris once had been, but showed no sign of maturing into a young woman yet. Lily, on the other hand, was a hard-worker who embraced all the hardest tasks on the farm - if only to be closer to her idol. Clay, however, was the youngest of her natural siblings and the only one to share her brilliant blue eyes and the burdens that Ma's death had left behind. He was quiet, like she had become, and thoughtful. He would often curl up in her lap, sucking his little thumb, and ask nothing of her but closeness.
That was more than she could say for any one else in the family, even her pretty young step-mother Janis.
Iris sighed heavily, looking first up the western road toward the farm, then back to the south-east from whence they had come. Not even a breath of wind stirred the underbrush. Although Daisy had long ago replaced Iris at Pa's feet, her ten-year-old dignity not yet impuned by dependence on her big, strong father, when a wolf howled off in the distance Iris wished Pa was with them.
Here she sat, surrounded by her siblings, and Iris had never felt so young.
Or so afraid.
Or so alone.
Dawn broke, a bloody purple bruise upon the horizon.
Iris awoke, wincing, with its first wan rays. She had apparently fallen asleep eventually, with a sharp rock at her hip and a lumpy root jutting into her spine. And, she noticed with a little smile as she brushed a hand over his sleepy head, with a four-year-old twined around her feet. Clay roused at her movement and gave her a lazy smile, rubbing his eyes with one fist, the other at his mouth with a thumb firmly ensconched between his lips.
Jasper had already risen, it appeared. From the relieved groan and audible sound of water tinkling against a tree, she realized he hadn't been up long. Pulling Clay into her arms, Iris stood, taking a count of her remaining siblings.
Daisy and Lily were still asleep on the other side fire, a pair of white-blond heads peeking out from beneath a nubby woolen blanket. Flint was poking at the embers sullenly and did not even look up when Iris greeted him quietly. Still, she was relieved to see that everyone was still here an appeared unharmed.
She spent an hour heating a kettle of water to make oaten porridge, washing little faces and hands, and helping her sisters brush and rebraid their hair. Jasper muttered as he paced the camp, unable to eat and worried now about Pa and Janis and the new baby whose early birth had forced Pa to depart Aunt Tedda's early in such a rush.
After enduring a good hour of Jasper's anxious pacing and nervous murmuring, Iris had finally had enough. She dragged him across the road, out of earshot of the little ones.
"That's enough, Jasper!" She admonished him. "You're scarin' the children and damn it - me as well."
"It ain't right, Rissy. You know it ain't. Pa'd've seen our fire and come out for us, you know it well as I." He was in a right state now, shaking his head and staring westward. "Somethin' is wrong. Maybe the baby died, or Janis, or-"
"Stop it, just stop it right there."
"But Rissy-"
Iris gave him a rough tug on the left ear. "No. Just listen to me now. If by some chance something has gone wrong with the birthin', there ain't anything we can do out here. Best we collect the children and get home as quick as we can. Maybe Pa's horse foundered on the rush back home and he can't pull the wagon with just the one. Or maybe its nothing at all. Maybe he didn't even see our smoke."
"Rissy, how many nights has Pa ridden out to check out smoke on the horizon? And how many nights did he not notice it?"
Iris frowned. It was true - she couldn't recall a single time that they had spied a fire and Pa had failed to investigate it.
"Well. We're not more'n two or three hours from the homestead, Jas. Let's round up the children and get moving. Now you've got me worried!"
Posted by Pheenie @ 8/12/2008 07:29:00 PM