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By Necessity
Verve and Usko parted ways, and by midday she was back in Lotis, pacing outside of Ivet’s home while she waited for the village leader to return. Ivet spent most mornings either at the Willow, teaching the children, or darting from one home to another, dealing with whatever issues cropped up in the village.
“Ah, there you are,” Ivet said, striding up, a stack of schoolbooks tucked beneath her only arm. “Berel said you wanted to speak to me.”
Without a word, Verve took the books from Ivet’s grip and the older Sufani woman flashed her a warm smile before ushering into the modest cottage.
“Set them down anywhere,” Ivet said. “I’ll make us some tea. We’ll sit outside; it’s nice today. Not too hot — yet.”
Verve plunked down the books on Ivet’s sleeping pallet, beside another scarf of Sufani make, one she hadn’t seen Ivet wear before. The embroidered butterflies were so delicate, yet realistic, Verve expected them take flight from the silk.
“You like that?” Ivet came to stand beside Verve, an iron fire poker in hand.
Verve drew her hand back; she’d been about to stroke the fabric. “It’s lovely.”
Ivet smiled fondly at the scarf. “It’s not my best work, but not a bad showing. My da could do better, but then, few of my clan could match his skill with a needle and thread.”
“You made this?” Verve asked.
Ivet waved her remaining hand and returned to the hearth, where she began tending the coals. “Aye, before I lost the arm. Do you know how to embroider?”
A memory returned. Pale linen stretched over a wooden hoop. Solid warmth at her back as she sat in her mother’s lap. Daylight. Birds sang, and her mother sang along as she guided Verve’s tiny hands in placing the needle and thread.
Verve had some skill; hell, she’d sewn hundreds of hematite beads to her jacket. But hematite was a necessary part of her job. Embroidering leaves and flowers just for their beauty was a frivolity Danya had never allowed.
“A little,” Verve replied after a beat. “But I haven’t tried in…a long time.”
“Well, if you’d like to relearn, I’d be glad to help you. It’d be good to put this knowledge to use again. But I doubt you came here to ask about my sewing.”
Verve touched her own scarf, which she’d recently cleaned, although her hair desperately needed new braids. Something felt wrong, but she didn’t know what. Probably just her overactive imagination hard at work. That or her supper last night didn’t agree with her. “Ivet, don’t bother with the tea. Just… sit down. Please. We need to talk.”
“By the One,” Ivet groaned, “no good conversation ever begins this way. Very well.” She nudged a few cushions to the center of the cottage, and they both took a seat. Ivet gave Verve a warm but curious look. “Now, vidahem, what’s got you all twisted up in knots?”
“I have to go,” Verve blurted out. “Just for a few days. A week, at most.” She hoped, anyway. “And I can’t tell you why.”
“Can you tell me where?”
Verve hesitated. Common sense told her that the less Ivet knew about her real life, the better. “I’d rather not.”
“So if you don’t return, we’ll just have to wonder?” Ivet’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Verve ducked her head. “I’m sorry. It’s for the best.”
“Does this have anything to do with the intense discussion you and Serla Sohvi had the other day?”
“You saw that, huh?”
Ivet patted her knee with casual ease. “I see everything, vidahem. I also recall hearing the name ‘Freehold.’ Which I’m sure has no bearing on your current, anxious state of mind.”
She winked at Verve, who sighed over yet another lost battle. But Ivet’s teasing eased the unsettled feeling in her gut, like a knot loosened, and she could almost smile. “‘Course not.”
“Of course,” Ivet agreed. “Well, if someone from Lotis were to be visiting a bustling town like Freehold, I’d ask them for a favor.”
This was unexpected. Verve kept her curiosity banked and said only, “Oh?”
“You’ve seen for yourself how we live here,” Ivet said. “Usually, we can take care of ourselves, with little help from the world beyond. But we need to trade, or sell goods we make or find locally. Klaret and Berel usually go to Mara’s Hope for that, but if you’re going to Freehold…”
A vision of herself slogging piles of Dannel’s weavings as came to Verve’s mind, and she fought the urge to groan. “I’m sorry, but I must travel quickly. I don’t have time to bring along guests and whatever wares you’ve got to sell.”
