A farmer’s wife, wearing a full-length apron over her bodice and ankle-length skirt, paused while weeding the garden beside a house long enough to watch them walk by with curious eyes. She offered no welcoming call or wave. Prin glanced back and saw the woman had turned to look to the mountains where they had come from. Prin realized she might spread the word of two strange girls crossing the mountains to any who would pay her a copper coin.
Prin realized being so close to the farms and standing out as travelers was a mistake, one that could cost her life. If she was to survive, she needed to do as Sara suggested, and right away. She needed to become someone else and stop drawing attention to herself.
Prin pointed to the crossroad they had just passed and said, “We should take that one instead of staying in the forest where any who see us will remember because who travels there when a perfectly good road is at hand? I’ll tell you. Thieves, brigands, highwaymen, and girls trying to hide. It’s not enough to throw off followers, but a start. Only that one woman in the garden has spotted us, so far.”
“Are you getting paranoid?”
“I saw her react to us sneaking past her farm. She knows where we came from and will have no reason not to sell that information to those who will follow,” Prin said.
Sara said, “You’re right. But if it’s only one woman, the chances are they won’t ask her. Besides, even if they do, she might not tell. People living in the country are like that.”
Prin said, “I’m sorry, you know. I should have told you before.”
“Sorry about what?”
“All of this. You were living in your home village and merely accepted a job to teach me to read. It was never intended for you to escape to a foreign land with a hundred murderers chasing after us.”
“A hundred?” Sara sputtered, forming a twitch of a smile.
“Well, I didn’t want to scare you with the whole truth and the full number.”
Both laughed, but Sara’s sounded forced, and Prin knew hers was. But she’d learned long ago as a fire starter in the morning kitchen to take things one step at a time. The lack of kindling prevented a fire even if the cooks were due to arrive soon and punish her. She had to lay the tinder in the ovens first, add kindling, and place the firewood on top where it could breathe air as it burned.
Her mind attempted to sort problems in the same manner. First-step, second-step, and so on, just like building a morning fire. She needed to change her appearance, get rid of the horses, and become someone else. Those three steps were done, or at least started. She carried enough gold in her purse to last for years if she lived frugally. The next step was to find a place to live, buy clothing, and hide in plain sight, as Sara said. But those were only the beginning of her problems.
“Tomorrow,” Sara muttered.
“What’s tomorrow?”
“The beginning of our new lives.”
Prin smiled. “I thought that was today.”
“Nope. Our entire lives will change when we first set foot in that strange and beautiful city, but we can’t get there today.”
“You’re right. We’re about to lose the daylight,” Prin said, pointing ahead. “Is that an inn?”
At another crossroads ahead, they saw a building that was obviously an inn, a sign over the front door swinging in the breeze. Before reaching it, Prin saw a young farmer leaning on a pitchfork and watching them while wearing a lazy smile and a twinkle in his eyes. There was no way to hide to hide from him. Besides, she liked his smile. It was as if he’d been waiting for them all day.
Prin touched Sara’s elbow and whispered, “Follow me.”
The farmhouse behind the young man leaned to one side as if sad and tired. The fields were overgrown with weeds. Even the grass in front of the barn doors grew tall, indicating there were no animals inside to eat or tramp it down. A neatly tended vegetable garden only large enough for one person grew beside the house.
His smile widened when they approached, and he said, “Come to buy some of my hay?”
Prin tried to match his smile. “Perhaps there might be a deal for us to make.”
His smile faltered at her word and his realization he might make a sale of some kind, then he recovered and said, “What sort of deal?”
“Well, where we come from, a drink of cold water is usually shared with thirsty travelers,” she said. She had spotted the well sitting to the side of the house, located where other people passing by on the road wouldn’t see them.
He took the lead down the dirt driveway that hadn’t had a hoof or wheel on it in ages. She saw an old swaybacked mule in a fenced corral next to the barn, and behind that three fields of tall, lush grass the young man would never be able to cut and set out to dry alone. It was a job for two. Or three. When all that was taken together, along with the appearance of the rest of the farm, she believed he worked it alone.
“Call me Tom,” he said as Sara dipped the bucket into the well and drew fresh water.
Sara handed the ladle to Prin, before taking a drink herself, watching them carefully. Prin faced Tom and said bluntly, “Your farm isn’t doing very well.”
He shrugged and turned his attention to the older Sara, who was near his age. “The previous owners had more than their share of problems. The father had an accident and died--along with his two sons. The widow moved to her sister’s farm down near Darlington, and I used all the money I had to buy this place.”
Prin ignored him talking directly to Sara, as she said, “It looks like good farmland.”
“I grow grass and try to sell it for hay. It brings in a little.”
“But you need more money to buy seed, tools, labor, and everything else.”
He laughed without humor, and his gaze again fell on Prin. “That’s about it. I should have tried buying a smaller farm so I’d have some money left over for seed and stock. I guess I was too ambitious for my own good.”
“This is my sister, Sara, and I’m Prin. We have our own set of problems, and maybe we can help each other. We’re in a bit of a hurry, so let me know if this doesn’t interest you, and we’ll be on our way. Men, evil men, may come over the mountains looking for a friend of mine. A girl about my age with yellow hair.”
“Why are they looking for you?” he asked, not buying her lie in the least as his eyes flicked to observe her bald head.
“Not me! Besides, it does not matter,” Prin snapped. “What does matter, is that we don’t want to be seen or stay at the inn where they will ask about us. Ask about her. A night in a nice, dry barn would help.”
“It’s yours. I can haul in some fresh hay for you to sleep on.”
Prin smiled. “And how much will you charge?”
“Sleeping in my barn is free.”
“I thought you’d say that,” Prin said. “But, I have another idea. You feed us dinner, let us sleep in your barn, and we go into the farming business together.”
“I said, the barn is free. I can’t offer but mush for dinner, and you’re welcome to it. I’m tired of eating it every day, but the farm is mine.”
Prin took a step in his direction, drawing his full attention. “I need a man to trust and a place I can hide again, if I need to. A place where I know I can go because you owe me.” Prin waited, then revealed a silver coin she had palmed. “This will buy bags of seed to plant, a good plow, tools, a mule that can work instead of that one eating your grass beside the barn. Maybe even a local boy to help when you need to harvest all that hay.”
“That coin will buy more than that,” his eyes were wide with possibilities.
“Maybe it will buy a used wagon to carry your carrots, turnips and such to market. I also want you to buy chicks and feed for them. Next time I come here, I want a full chicken dinner.”