*** A little of what's happening in both places now, at sea and on land.
Something to note here; The creatures back at the keep are not human and they have a rather involved societal structure.
I'm aware that there are readers who might not especially like the way that these things all have a varying degree of capability to go in both directions which depends on the individual - and it's even built into their society, though not overtly.
Just be aware that it's there and know that I didn't write this to make the reader who doesn't like that sort of thing grumble. I've purposely glossed over things a bit for that reason. It's just the story and how it goes, that's all.
So read the tags and decide. I'm not out to shock the gentle-hearted. That's why there isn't much fine detail. If readers wanted that, I know they'd just go to that genre on Lit, and be happier.
No matter how they play, I'd prefer that you fall at least a little in love with a few of the characters.
0_o
------------------------
Margit looked up from her inspection of the hoof that she held between her knees. This particular mare had been a handful for a long time to the Kurtadam riders, never showing much of anything other than her will to them, and her will and what it caused her to do, was never what was wanted. She was fairly docile and even bordered on being good-natured a lot of the time, but once a rider was on her, ...
She'd been brought to Margit's attention as a bit of a problem child.
She'd listened as the problem had been explained to her and then she'd asked to have the animal led around one of the pens. There hadn't even been one circumnavigation made before Margit was calling the walker to bring her in. It had been subtle, and the animal sought to hide it, but Margit went straight to that one hoof and began to work on the problem of removing the tiny stone which had lodged itself and been missed during the regular once-overs done by the horse handlers.
That little thing had since become embedded deeply and almost grown over.
She noticed the presence of another and smiled when she recognized Tirga, who offered a hot drink of hot mulled wine, so she ambled over to wash her hands.
"You are ever a wonder to us, my friend," the Kurtadam smiled, "Many have looked in just that one place and they saw nothing."
"Well that 'nothing' just happened to be in the perfect place to remain lodged and also cause her enough pain to favor it, but only slightly.
Horses can often be beyond stupid, but there are some who are quite bright and that girl there knows enough to do what she can to hide her trouble most times. With a rider on her back, it gets too much for her to work though."
"I have another matter to speak with you about today," Tirga said and then she smiled, remembering something.
"You and Gunnar do much for us all. It came to me that, though you both can work many wonders to our eyes, there is one thing which you cannot do -- not that any of us can either," she chuckled.
"You do not have enough hands for all of the things which you attend to in your day. You might see it as nothing more than being busy.
I have many things such as that as well. But I have help if I only raise my hand.
As well, I have some things which need answers which I cannot give. But I have an idea and seek to ask your help as well as Gunnar's, if you can provide it. I think that if this can work, you both would have help which you need, I might have a little less on my list, and both of us mothers might smile from it."
Margit was intrigued now, not really having any idea of what Tirga had in mind. She nodded anyway, wishing to help her friend in any way that she could.
Tirga sipped her drink and sought for the best way to begin.
"As with any other people, I would guess," she said, "we are not all the same. Some are more fortunate than others, some are wiser, some are stronger, and so on. It is the same with us as it is with you.
I try when I can, with Petra's aid to look after the poorer ones among us.
During the time of the confinement, I could do little other than watch and try to help where I could. There was a young female who had been orphaned. We were at the time, completely dependent on our human captors for food, and I can also admit to my mild shame that there are those among us who can be greedy.
This female was smaller, of a type which never seems to grow beyond a point. It placed her at a disadvantage and she could never get enough food to eat and was always hungry. She was also very timid. But starvation is a powerful force which can drive anyone to do things which they would not do, normally.
I was kept in a different cage and could do nothing more than shout, and so I had to watch as the poor one came at last to the desperate point of offering her body to another for a little bit to eat.
She became pregnant from it of course. Hunger always returns, though the effect of what we do can last beyond us. She gave birth and then she had more troubles."
Tirga looked over a little sadly, "She perished a few years later not long before we won our freedom, but I have never forgotten what I had to watch. That cage was the last which we forced open, more than a year after the first, for the locks and the bars were strong and the worthless monks gave us no keys.
Among the very first things which I did was to have the male killed, since he was beyond useless. There were others in there with them, who shared a little of what they'd been given, but not that one.
Since that time, I have cared for two young girls who are not mine. They are not royal and receive little aside from basic care as I can give it. It is not what I would have wanted, but I am so busy.
But they are now of an age where they need to be kept busy themselves, for I will be damned if I will allow what I had to see replicate itself and reproduce that way -- for it will, unless I do something.
Can you see a way that you might use them, you and your fine male? I would suggest setting them to work for you in any way that you see fit to help you and even to serve you as you need. Make them a part of your household and, if you can, try to show them that you care if you can do it. I will have more food brought to make good on what they eat.
They were so young when their mother died of malnutrition. She wasted away, giving them most of what little food she could get to give to them. For most of their lives, they have not had anyone like the mother who whelped them."
Margit couldn't see that she and Gunnar needed any help in the form of servants or assistants, but she did understand her friend's request very well. As the daughter of a Khan, she'd seen people who lived in abject poverty in her time.
"I can try," she smiled a little uncertainly, "I have a thought that what I miss as a mother are my children when they were old enough to need little care from me, but we spent much time together working our farm. What are they like?"
"They are the same age as my son," Tirga smiled in a bit of relief.
"They are well-mannered, but like their mother, they tend to be shy and it makes then very quiet. One of my regrets is that I have not had much of any time to give them what they need so much of so that they might gain their confidence more. They are smaller and they hide their age somehow just as their mother did.
They tend to be considered, ... a little backward because they say little, but if you take a little time and watch to see it, you will see that they are both very bright and thoughtful."
She looked at Margit for a moment, "Do you remember when we were young, and there were those times when girls, ... are curious about each other and, ..."
Margit grinned, though she had to look down to manage it, "I remember, Tirga. It was just the two of us being curious, as you say, though I looked forward to visiting with your people because of you for it. Just a naughty thing when a young one tries to learn a bit."
She laughed a little, "Such a pair of fumbling, curious girls we were, not that it was more than that at our ages, we were so young. I have not thought of it for long years, but it was nice. Why do you mention it, though I thank you for the memory?"
"Kurtadam whelps born in the same whelping are a kind of twins to the human way of thinking, though we do not consider it such," Tirga said.
"These two are actual ones and look so very nearly alike in everything. I mention our young and curious play in order to say that it has gone between them since they were that age in the way that our whelps care for each other, especially since they are all that they have together. Not wanting to see one or both of them follow in the steps of their poor mother, I have forbidden anything else for them until they have found their place properly among us. That time comes to an end now and I am a little sad that I could not bring them out of themselves more."
She looked over hopefully, "For that to happen, where they take their places as adults, I now pray that I have you to do what I could not for them."
She looked off and, seeing the ones that she'd brought waiting, and looking beyond uncomfortable, she smiled a little and waved them over.
The pair looked very reluctant and painfully shy, but after a moment, they took each other's hand for a little uncertain courage and began to approach. They were as Tirga had said, completely alike if one didn't know them, both a little mouse-colored in their body fur, but having much lighter, wheat-toned hair.
Margit stared for a moment and then she grinned, "So there are TWO of the one which I always saw watching me as I worked, but staying far enough away so that I would feel foolish to ask if there was a problem."
The pair almost stopped then and seemed to appear a little sad, thinking that they were about to be laughed at. Margit shook her head and beckoned to them herself.
"I laugh because I see now that there is more than one of the shy ghost who watched me so often, that is all. I am Margit, an old friend of Tirga's."
She held up her hand to her friend, already knowing that she was about to hear their names from her.
"Tell me your names by yourselves," she smiled down a little at them, "so that we can have proper introductions."
The two looked almost frightened then. They seemed to have slightly large eyes anyway, but at Margit's remark, their eyes grew even more. Margit tried to bear what Tirga had said of them in mind -- that they were a kind who never seemed to grow fully, and even still, it amazed her a little.
