The Girl in the River

Chapter 7

Sage sat with her mother on their bench by the fire the way they always did in the evenings. Days had passed since the festival and life had resumed its normal rhythm far too quickly. As she stayed inwardly in turmoil, she resented her life for being so peaceful again so quickly. But what could she do? Nothing at all but work as hard as ever. There was never anything to do but work hard.

    She was spinning, and her mother was tearing up lettuce to add to their stew. They sat in companionable silence - visibly companionable at least. Sage was a little miffed that for whatever reason her parents had chosen not to tease her about what happened at the festival. It should have been a relief, but since she had decided not to give them a piece of her mind until they started in on her she'd been denied even that release.

    That's how she felt; pent up and restless and upset; but again, what was there to do but keep spinning?

    Her father came home as usual. He found his wife first this time so she got the forehead kiss before he sat down with a sigh. He seemed unusually tired today.

    "How was business?" her mother asked.

    "Slower than I hoped. People don't seem to be buying preserving jars the way they usually do about now. I still have most of my stock on the shelf."

    Sage knit her brow. Her new anklet felt heavy during conversations like this.

    "I did get a visit from someone who'd never been by before this afternoon though" her father went on casually.

    "Hm? Her mother answered "Who in the village hasn't needed to buy a pot before?"

    "Well, young men typically don't, unless it's to buy a gift. I suppose Brooks has always had other things to give his mother, I hear he's a talented hunter."

    Sage froze.

    "Brooks? The Chief's son?" her mother pressed.

    "Mhmm, he came to visit me. He didn't buy anything though."

    Sage started spinning again with a vengeance. Her parents had finally decided to start teasing her and she found she was not having it. She was not at all interested in hearing of the comings and goings of a boy who had merely decided to pay her a little attention once. For no reason at all, it would seem. He'd probably just thought she was weird and wanted the novelty - or she had messed up somehow.

    "Thank you for that thrilling business update, Pel. Are you ready for your dinner now?" her mother rolled her eyes at him across the fire.

    "Don't you want to know why he came to see me?"

    "He had a reason? Why don't you just tell us clearly, without all this building for effect? Your daughter is hungry, you know."

    "My daughter is why he came; he wants to marry her."

    Sage dropped her spindle. It hit the floor just shy of stabbing into her foot and skidded away, thread unravelling as it went. She and her mother both fixed wide eyes on his face and waited for the punchline, but he only smiled.

    "What! Marry Sage? He asked if he could marry Sage?"

    "He did."

    Silence reigned. Sage couldn't breathe.

    "Did you tell him about the dowry?"

    Oh, the room was spinning. Of course, he would have to be told that she wouldn't have a dowry. That would probably make him change his mind. Sage had known for years that very few boys would even be able to marry her without some money from her parents to set up a home, money they simply didn't have. Brooks likely had money but still, who would take on the expense of a girl like her when he could have had the daughter of a wealthy merchant? Brooks could still have a girl like that, his father could afford to send him off to find one in another village. But first he'd had to learn her family's shameful reality.

    "No, I didn't."

    "Pel! He needs to know! And Sage didn't need to, before everything has been discussed. What if it falls through?"

    "I didn't need to tell him, because he offered a bride price for her." Her father was grinning, she could hear it in his voice.

    Neither of them could reply.

    "He told me he'd give us one of his own cows for the marriage, a female, and he expects her to be pregnant by this time next year so we'd get the calf as well."

    "Oh my goodness." Her mother whispered.

    "I told him I would go see his father tomorrow to talk it over, and if Sage agrees I'll bring her seal and get everything settled then."

    They both looked at her then, and Sage stood up. Barely paying attention, she walked to the door and took the water bucket on her way out. She was at the irrigation trough at the back of their garden before she knew it. Dropping the bucket too, she pressed hot fingers against her face.

    A bride price was an old fashioned tradition, a gift to the girl's family from the groom or his parents. It was reserved almost solely for situations where a young man was asking for a girl from an important or wealthy family. It was as if he thought she was out of reach from him, or so sought after he needed an edge in the competition. And - this would save her parents.

    Without her, they'd have one less mouth to feed; but also without her they'd be lacking a pair of hands. All the work Sage did, gathering roots, the spinning and sewing, all the help in the garden and at the workshop would be gone. They would be fine on their own now, but what about in a few years? Sage had lost many hours of sleep over the fact that they would one day be old. She'd promised herself that she'd never leave them, and she'd never tell them why. She had to stay where she could hold back the ever looming hunger.

    A cow would have milk, milk to drink or sell, and the calf would have another host of potential all its own. Her mind raced with the possibilities. Selling the calf for its meat when it was full grown, bartering for its first calf if it was a female, more milk, a growing herd. A pregnant cow would change absolutely everything. Everything! Her father could work shorter hours, her mother could plant less vegetables. They could buy warm clothes, eat meat, build up the fire on cold nights. And Sage could get married.

    She dug her hands into her hair, tipped her head back, turned in a circle. She couldn't cry now, not when she had to go back in there and tell them that yes, she didn't mind, she agreed. She must not have red eyes for that.

*

Get urself a man who'd give ur Dad a cow for u <3
-Laura