Seth led the way into the house. Irene stood as short as any adult woman Gareth had ever seen. A well-used stool was in front of the wood stove, and she stood on it, already cracking eggs into a hot pan. “Heard you talking. How ‘bout some thick slices of pork to go with your eggs? Tom and Gareth, is it?”
The farmhouse, like most, was small, a kitchen, sitting room, and an open door that revealed a bed. A glance revealed it to be as clean as any he’d ever seen. It appeared old, but of sturdy construction. The smoke-blackened interior smelled of winter fires in the stone chimney and well-cooked meals. A low ceiling gave the feeling of intimacy while the log construction for the outer walls gave the impression of permanence. Most furniture had been hand-crafted with obvious pride, telling the tale of the two people who lived there.
Tom and Gareth sat in the proffered chairs, the only two at the small table, and the only two in the cabin. Seth sat on an upturned stump beside the stone fireplace and cradled a mug of steaming mead. Irene placed two mugs on the table, a jug of mead and a pot of hot water. She pointed to a covered bowl on the table. “Help yourselves.”
“You’re too kind.” Tom pour a small amount of the mead into the two mugs and then added hot water. Mead was a luxury to farmers and good manners dictated he uses it sparingly.
Seth looked on with obvious approval. “We’d like to hear your story. Is your trouble coming this way?”
Tom sipped and nodded. “Maybe.” Then after a short pause, “Probably. There are men chasing after us. Bounty hunters. They’re after the boy, here.”
“Bounty hunters!” Irene exclaimed, and then turned quickly back to her stove so the men could talk as was custom.
Gareth said, “I didn’t do anything, but those teachers are after me. We don’t know why.”
“Teachers?” Seth asked in a soft voice that carried more than the question.
Tom said, “I call ‘em men of the Brotherhood. Dressed in green robes and sneakin’ around the countryside looking at everything. We saw two of them out on your road this morning, not far from here. They might come here and ask questions about us, later. You don’t have to lie, just delay telling the truth, if you don’t mind, but don’t get yourself involved or caught trying to cover for us.”
Gareth noticed the pained look Irene passed to Seth. He nodded to her in return and she went back to her cooking as if giving permission for him to talk.
Seth said, “Those greenies, that’s what we call them around here, came for our boy, Paul. About a dozen years ago, now. He was only five. Two of them came here one day and left with him. They tried to leave money, and we refused. They brought two other men with them, fighters. Knocked me around and finally tied both of us up for a couple of days. They left us a handful of silver and broken hearts. Haven’t seen or heard from Paul since.”
One of the dogs settled near Gareth’s feet, and he scratched its ears. “The men chasing us have two dogs with them. Hounds, I think. Trained to track men, is my guess. Following our scent, so you don’t want to get caught in any lies because they’ll know we were here.”
Seth sipped his mead and said, “No love lost over them greenies, and us. As I said, they took our only son, and we don’t forgive. So if they’re after you, what can we do to help?”
Tom pulled a large silver coin and placed in on the table. “Two blankets, some food to take with us, and directions.”
“Keep your silver. I guess that if they’re looking for you, they have descriptions. You need to change your appearance and look like someone else. Irene, I’ll dig into that chest in the closet and pull out some clothes that’ll fit them. I have plenty of old things they can wear.” He looked at them, his mind obviously racing. “You both have long hair. Irene can cut it and shave Tom. Scrape that beard off and he’ll look a new man, ten years younger. Wish we could add the beard to the youngster and change him as much.”
Irene said, “When I’m done with you two, those bounty hunters will walk right up to you and pass the time of day and not know who you are.” She stepped down from the stool and placed two plates heaped with scrambled eggs and several thick slices of smoked pork before them. She said, “If those damn greenies are chasing after you, then we’re bound to help you just to spite them. Seth, when we’re done here, you take them down to the river and give them our old boat.”
The dragon egg chose that time to move again against Gareth’s stomach. It slowly swelled at one end and then he felt a quick jerk. Gareth had been smiling but felt it fade. Another movement shifted the weight of the egg slightly the other way, and Gareth tried to rearrange the bag to his side as if it was a natural thing to do before eating. He didn’t want others seeing the movement from the bag and asking about it.
He noticed Tom’s eyes locked on him, but Gareth avoided eye contact.
Tom said as if intentionally drawing attention away from Gareth, “I didn’t even know there was a river near here.”
Seth pulled a pair of scissors from a sewing box and placed them on the table. “Out behind the barn and behind that stand of trees. Our fork of the river joins the John about a day’s travel south. The John River flows on down to Drakesport, about two days from here. You should be able to lose yourselves in a city that big.”
Irene reached out and ran her fingers through Gareth’s hair and picked up the scissors as he finished eating. “In the city, men often have shorter hair.” She snipped a handful, and then another. In minutes, she had a pile on the floor and moved to Tom’s side.
Seth stood, walked to another room and returned with an armload of clothing. He motioned for Gareth choose some and change. Irene looked away as if by accident, and Gareth hustled out of the fine new pants and shirt from Priest’s Point and into farmer’s homespun that had seen better days and fit slightly tight.
As he adjusted the new pants and shirt, Seth spread a blanket on the floor and placed cheese, hardtack, and dried meat in the center, then rolled it tight and tied a short piece of rope around each end, leaving a loop to go over Tom’s shoulder. The contents were safe from spilling and the blanket ready for travel.
Irene trimmed Tom’s hair and cut his beard shorter at the same time. Then she pulled a straight razor from a shelf and smeared soap on his face, all without speaking. Standing, she only matched the height of Tom while sitting. But her actions were fast and sure, working her way quickly and efficiently around his face, cheek to cheek.
In a short time, both were dressed in different clothing and looked like strangers to each other. The fire in the hearth burned their hair trimmings and old clothes, although it pained Gareth to watch the only new shirt he’d ever owned in flames.
Gareth imagined he looked somewhat different, but Tom had been transformed. The short hair did change him somewhat, but the removal of the beard made him look far younger than Gareth had come to think of him. He didn’t look much older than Faring’s da. The lines remained in his face, but the overall change was striking.
Irene said to Tom, “Those pink cheeks of yours will tan quickly, but if you don’t shave for a couple of days the new growth will cover the fresh look, and nobody will notice anything. Sorry about the nicks, but I was in a hurry.” She wetted her finger with her tongue then dabbed at one cut that continued to bleed.
“If the greenies are after you, you better get a move on,” Seth said, examining their new appearance and nodding in approval. “I see them now and then on the road out front, but they won’t speak to me. They know they took my only son, and I won’t forgive them. When we get to the river, I’ll hide my other skiff so nobody will use it to chase after you. The next closest boat is a half day’s walk up river.”