Role

Chapter 1

The cabin was dark when I entered with an armload of freshly split ash.
I dumped the firewood into the bin and let my eyes adjust to the gloom.
My stomach growled, and so I threw two pieces of wood under the black
iron pot where embers still gave off a cool salmon red glow. I dipped a
finger into the ever-stew, but it was cold. I licked the watery stew,
soup really, from my finger and wished for some meat to throw in it.

"Gammers? Are you sleeping?" In the corner her rocker was still. In
the summer she moved it closer to the window, but with the winter
closing in, Gammers kept her chair far from the drawn shutters.
I was ten, almost a grown woman, and though we must hide from soldiers
we can not let fear rule.

I moved closer, but I could hear nothing other than the sizzle and pop of
the ash as the fire began to take. As the shadows began to slide into
grey, I could make out her shawl and the threadbare quilt made from
multicolor scraps of cloth, and on it, her knobby hand. I reached for her.

"HagRa BrinLargha Bru!" I stumbled backward and let out a shriek. Gammers
started laughing uncontrollably before lapsing into a coughing fit.

I stood back up and rubbed my backside. "Not funny!" She continued to
cough and cackle fore a few minutes, then got back into her normal role.
"Check them chickens and see if there be an egg to throw in the stewpot."

There were two eggs, and I added a handful of wild barley I had found when
I was checking the snares. We would eat well tonight, if Grammers could
get that cough to quiet down.