Nobody's Goddess (18 page)

The wheels on the cart squealed. Darwyn had no interest in waiting for me to change my mind. Just as well. I wasn’t going to.

Arrow bolted up the pathway from where he’d been playing nearby to lick me goodbye. I pulled the chisel out of his reach so he wouldn’t hurt himself and kept marching forward. Arrow followed me for a bit, jumping and yipping and straining against all hope that the wood I carried would prove edible. Perhaps to him it was.

“Arrow! Here boy!”

As I came over the hill, Arrow’s mistress echoed his name, and he went running. How like the master of the golden dog who’d birthed him.

Goodbye to you, too, Elfriede.
I felt like a nuisance in my own home. Jurij had taken Mother’s place. Mine was practically taken by a dog.

It took me longer than it should have to cross the small distance to the Tailor’s. Weariness invaded my feet as the shop finally came into focus. My palm crushed against the uneven surface of the chisel handle, which showcased an elegant carving of a string of roses through which a series of butterflies fluttered their fair wings. It was one of my father’s better works, from back when he loved woodworking so much he even carved his tool handles. I could probably carve handles. But I wouldn’t forget the thorns on the vines and might include a few butterflies whose wings had ripped as they passed by them.

I stopped and took a closer look at the Tailors’ sign, which Father had carved some years ago. I would have put the image of the thread and needle looping through the letters in the word “Tailor.” I wondered if Alvilda would have a large piece of wood I could use to design my own sign for practice. If not, I could chop some down.

A shiver ran down my spine as the thought of the ax brought up faded memories of Avery from my dream. I’d left her before the dream had finished.

Anyway, signs take time. And you’re out of time, Noll.

The door to the shop opened abruptly, revealing the tired face of Mistress Tailor. Bow scampered out past her feet and jumped up to greet me. I placed the chisel and wood on the ground so I could take her head in my hands and rub her ears.

“You’re late,” said Mistress Tailor, not even bothering to greet me. “Why didn’t—” She glanced around and the corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly. “Oh. Noll. I thought Jurij might have been coming home. For once.”

“He’s at my place,” I said, although that was probably obvious. “If you’d like, I can tell him—”

She eyed the things I’d left on the ground and waved a hand. “No. Don’t bother. If you’re heading to Alvilda’s, send my husband over. There’s enough work around here for ten.” She turned to Bow. “Come on, do your business. Clothes aren’t going to sew themselves.”

I tucked my tool and wood block into my sash and started down the village path, but as I passed her, Mistress Tailor had one more thing to say. “I wish you the best tomorrow. Whatever ‘the best’ may be.”

I was taken aback. Mistress Tailor, the stout and surly woman of few words, had said what no one else would. And she seemed to honestly mean it.

“Thank you.”

Mistress Tailor practically growled. “All right. No use crying over the broken thread. I’m sure Alvilda will have some nice words for you.” With that, she and Bow went back into the Tailor Shop, and I was left to face the onslaught of people between one end of the village and the other alone.

If I thought I attracted attention before I became the lord’s goddess, for being a rambunctious child or for having no man to call my own, I had no idea of the type of interest I would have to deal with as the day of my supposed Returning approached.

“Blessed be your birthday tomorrow!” An unmasked man next to a stand of produce tilted his hat at me, the grin on his lips a sign he had no idea how his words cut me to the quick.

I mumbled my thanks, spinning to get out of the way of the tanner and his cart of hides, itching to get away from the busy path that led to the center of the village.

“Watch where you’re going, you foolish girl!”

The woman startled me and I nearly fell, flinging my hands out to steady myself. My fingers smacked against a wicker basket, my nails catching in a dark gauze laid over it. The gauze began to shift and I realized with horror what I’d done.

Not a basket. A bassinet.

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am!” I hurried to readjust the gauze, grabbing my finger with the other hand and carefully untangling the jagged nail from the thin material, all while not daring to look down. “Is he all right?”

“Oh. It’s you.” The woman struggled to balance a baby in the crook of her left arm with the handled bassinet slid across her right. The baby sucked its fist and leaned into her shoulder. She had powerfully dark brown eyes slightly covered by a mess of dark brown curls. “I apologize for yelling at you.” The mother bent awkwardly to tighten the gauze over the baby in the bassinet.

“You needn’t apologize,” I said. “I should have looked where I was going. I put your baby in danger.” I stared at the girl, the only type of baby I’d ever seen. “Twins?”

“Yes. The first goddess blessed me with both a girl and a boy, with a daughter to take care of me and my husband in our later years and a son to do the same for his goddess’s family, to learn the value of love.” She bounced her baby girl higher and shifted the bassinet onto her elbow once again. “It’s fine. It was an accident.” She smiled, falteringly. “We’re so looking forward to tomorrow. My husband is one of the men playing the music. We’ve already gotten the copper for it.” The baby on her left arm cried out suddenly, her face twisting in fury. “Shh, shh,” said the woman, rocking her back and forth.

I didn’t want to tell her there was nothing special “tomorrow.” Besides,
I
hadn’t gotten an invitation to my Returning. He must have assumed I’d go, but I had no plans to be there.

“Noll, praise the goddess!” A hand touched my shoulder. Elweard. He had a barrel under one arm and a grin that took up half his face. “Vena and I were just talking about you. We received so many coppers for the Returning—we’re so looking forward to finally meeting him, and thanking him for all his orders—and the invitation asked us to provide enough for the whole village to drink.” Elweard laughed, but he wasn’t one to wait for responses, which was just as well. “But he paid us far more than that! The village couldn’t possibly drink that much, even if there were enough wheat and grapes to make enough ale and wine, and we wondered if it would be wrong if we kept the copper and sent the two of you and his servants free drinks for life, or if the lord would need it back—”

Elweard droned on, and the woman curtseyed at me best she could with one screaming baby in her arms and the child’s twin joining in the cacophony from beneath his veil. Stepping aside and putting the bassinet on a bench in front of a nearby shop, she tugged at the gauze gently, shifting it so slightly I could hardly believe it moved at all.

“Noll?” Elweard’s voice drew me out of my reverie. “
Do
you need Vena to stand up for you and the lord? I know you probably have another in mind. Alvilda, maybe, since you’ve been helping her with carving, or your sister’s man’s mother—”

“No!” I gritted my teeth and fought hard to keep the anger buried within. The woman stood up, tightening the gauze over the bassinet, a deep breath visibly escaping her lips. I clutched my skirt with both hands as the woman disappeared into the crowd, that black gauze on the bassinet threatening to drown me in memories of the veiled lord, in images of me and him where Elfriede and Jurij had once stood, in him removing the veil, in what I would find beneath it … “No. Thank you, Elweard, but no.”

Elweard scratched his head. “All right. Vena thought we ought to offer, that’s all. But about the copper … ”

“I have to go.” I spun around, almost smacking into another woman. At least this one carried bread in her basket instead of babies.

“Oh my! Noll!” Mistress Baker placed a hand on her chest. “Just the woman I was about to go visit. I thought maybe I should ask which of these breads you want served at the ceremony and which we should just send home with everyone.” She shifted the loaves aside in her basket, producing one roll after another. “The lord sent us enough copper to feed the village three times over, so we’ve been working hard and making everything, but we simply can’t carry it all to the Great Hall tomorrow. My husband hasn’t slept a wink in days, I swear—”

I swirled around as if in a dance and darted through the crowd, leaving poor Mistress Baker to her breads and probable confusion once she looked up to find me gone.

Relief flooded my body when I finally made it across town to Alvilda’s. I almost tore the door open, but then I remembered her visitor and knocked before I entered. Alvilda told me to wait a moment, and then to let myself in.

“Good day, Noll!” called a cheerful voice as I entered. Master Tailor’s worn down owl mask greeted me from Alvilda’s ever-dusty eating table. “How goes the woodcarver’s daughter?”

I sighed and slipped into the seat next to him, placing the chisel and the wood on the table, where they seemed right at home. Alvilda was by her workbench, lost in the task of whittling a chair leg. I could see the as-yet-unfinished headboard propped up against the wall in the corner. She said nothing.

“The same,” I offered. I didn’t bother to ask whether he was inquiring about the daughter in front of him or the one who made his son’s life worth living.

Master Tailor answered for me. “I bet she’s excited about her wedding in the spring!” Even though everyone in the village was excited for the Returning, the most important things remained the same. Their own men, their own goddesses. Their children and the goddesses and men belonging to their children. I was just an excuse to have a celebration. Copper in their pocket, a day off from work.

Alvilda dropped the chair leg she was carving and shook her head in disbelief. She threw her gouge on the workbench, marched across the room, and whacked Master Tailor on the back of his head. Sawdust went flying with each movement.

“Ow!” Master Tailor rubbed the back of his dark curls.

“Go home!” barked Alvilda.

“What?” asked Master Tailor quizzically. “I’m excited about Noll’s Returning, too, of course. Nissa has been so helpful in making the lord’s new garments. Not that they’re much different than the usual garments he orders, but Nissa does such a good job, they look better than—”

Alvilda crossed her arms. “Out.”

Master Tailor shook his owl head and stood up from the table. “Sometimes I wonder if you think you’re my goddess instead of Siofra.”

Alvilda tapped her foot. “That’s a disturbing thought. At least you can choose whether or not to obey my orders. Although I do suggest you choose wisely.”

Master Tailor waved his hand lazily in her direction. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“Mistress Tailor asked me to tell you to come home,” I interjected.

Master Tailor tensed and moved so quickly out the door that I could hardly believe he’d had time to cross the room.

Alvilda shook her head and filled the seat that Master Tailor had just emptied. “You have to watch how you word your orders from a goddess to her man. They’re almost as effective as direct orders from the woman herself, so long as they have a basis in truth.”

That was true. I felt a little guilty messing around with that kind of power, even if I hadn’t intended to. “Sorry.”

She shrugged and began playing with her fingers, concerned with picking out some of the sawdust stuck under her nails. “So,” said Alvilda, finally giving up her futile quest to clean her nails and slapping her palms against the table. She picked up my half-block, half-rock piece of wood and examined it. “How goes the carving?”

I thought back to the ruined sculptures and other blobs of wood that looked no better than the piece Alvilda turned over in her hands. “Spectacularly,” I lied.

Alvilda put the wood back on the table. “And how goes the carver?”

I waved a hand. “He’s the same as always.”

Alvilda shook her head and grabbed my hand that rested on the table. I flinched. “I meant the
other
carver in the family,” she said.

I started bawling.

Alvilda got up from her seat and swooped in to embrace me, but that only made me cry harder. She let me cry a few moments more before she took my face in her hands and put on her most stunning smile. I wondered if this was how Jaron saw her when he first knew she was his goddess, and my heart ached for the pain he must be feeling even at that moment, to know that he would never hold her in his arms as I did.

“So, what would you like to do today?” asked Alvilda. I hadn’t actually told her I was going to come over.

I glanced toward the work area of her home and the fallen chair leg. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Alvilda shook her head and began shoving a few buns, some cheese, and a bottle into a picnic basket. “Nothing that can’t wait another few days,” she said. I noticed with some pleasure that her picnic basket’s handle featured what I thought might be swords and daggers.

“A picnic sounds wonderful,” I said.

Alvilda’s choice spot for a picnic wasn’t my own, but I imagined she didn’t want me to head back home before I had to. We enjoyed the meager meal in silence under a tree just a ways from the commune. My eyes guiltily wandered over the moaning, wretched men sprawled out on the ground or walking about, lifting one foot after the other slowly, aimlessly. It was an odd choice for my last day of freedom, but I had no place else I’d be welcomed. After a little while, Alvilda went inside her home to grab my chisel. She gave me a new block of wood, and I’d started carving a flower. A lily.