Author's Note: This chapter won't have as much cuteness. In fact, there will be a bit of violence and tragedy.
*****
The following day had just as much work as the last previous one, which was to be expected. Fertilizer had to be spread. Plants had to be maintained. The chickens, and the cow, needed their food and water. The cow's name was Zula, and she had to be milked. There was also all the shit to clean out. Cows and chickens aren't polite. At least cats bury their feces, Hulda thought, as she noticed a somewhat feral black cat lurking around the house. She was told not to give it any food. The family let the cat remain in the yard so it could hunt mice and birds.
Most of the eggs and milk had to be sold. Butter had to be churned, and most of that was sold too. Spinning had to be done at the spinning wheels. Sewing had to be done, from the creation of clothing to the repairing and patching. Baby Dagny had to be supervised. Cooking was, of course, done. Not only that, there was always something that needed to be cleaned or fixed.
One moment, as Hulda was helping Johnan prepare a meal, Placidus approached her with a stern jaw. He turned his head slightly, as if he wanted her to pay attention to the scars on his face.
"I hope you won't mind if I say something boastful," he said as his long fingers weaved together before him. "I think Lili's the best woman in the village. Her stitches are dainty. Her fingers are quick. And she has the strongest spirit. I think if you want to learn how to be a good Breden woman, you need to spend more time with Lili." He stepped back a bit. Then he snorted out some air. "I'm not saying you're a bad girl, now. You're all around a good girl, a nice girl. We're lucky to have you around. I just want to make sure that Ehlov gets what a Breden man would want to have."
Hulda was starting to worry that she might be doing something wrong.
Ehlov spoke to her some time later that day. There was a little bit of free time, and he said he wanted to have a run with her. He ran around the neighborhood with her seated on his "second back," which was what the centaurs called their horse-like backs. Hulda was timid and fearful at first, but she quickly learned that she was secure. She even had a bit of fun, especially when another man, his younger sister on his back, challenged Ehlov to a friendly race from one end of a row of houses to the other. Ehlov ended up winning.
"I'm used to running with a great load behind me," her husband had said when the race was finished. "Even with a woman on my back, that race was nothing special."
It was on the way back home when Ehlov made a request she didn't fully understand.
"Wife, if it wouldn't bother you, would you mind doing something for me?"
"I don't see why not."
He nodded. "I want you to count anything and everything. I don't care what you count. Rocks, flower petals, blades of grass. Just count. Try to count with tens, twenties, hundreds, and thousands if you can. And I want you to add and take away numbers too."
Hulda's head tilted as she looked at the back of Ehlov's cap. It was a functional, dark brown thing. "Why do you want me to do that?" Yes, farmers needed to know how to count, but Ehlov seemed oddly concerned about her counting abilities, to the point where Hulda wondered what in the world he wanted her to count in the future.
"I don't want you to focus much on the 'why,' but I do want you to keep it a secret from the family. Ma might think you're wasting your time if she finds out about it."
"But, Husband, when can I count? I'm always so busy."
She heard his breath come out of his nose. "Count as you work, silently, in your head."
Hulda reached up to tuck a bit of escaping hair under her head wrap. "Well, that doesn't sound like a mean thing to ask, but I want you to do something for me."
"Hm?" He looked back at her for only an instant. Hulda noticed that his eyebrows were a bit higher than normal. "What do you want?"
"I want you to teach me more fancy words."
"Hmmmmmm ... I don't know all the fancy words, but I know some. I'll give you one now. Mathematics. It's a big way of saying, when someone studies counting, adding, taking away, and other number stuff."
Her tongue and teeth experimented with the word. "Math ... ah ... mah ... ticks?"
"Mathematics," Ehlov repeated.
Firmly nodding, Hulda said the word again. Then she told her husband, "I like fancy words. I really do."
Ehlov's response was another, "Hmmm."
***
In the evening, the males were groomed. The ones who complained of aching muscles received a careful massage, usually on their first backs or their first shoulders. Hulda couldn't see a reason why she shouldn't climb onto her husband's second back and reach forward to stroke and rub his first shoulders. Still, her eyelids twitched and her teeth clenched every time he moaned out his approval. He didn't sound tasteless or unseemly, but Hulda still felt pops of unease.
When the men were taken care of, it was the women's turn. Their hair was combed. Any noticeable bugs were taken out. Their feet were wiped. Their shoulders and backs were pressed and stretched.
And Hulda was still rather quiet, because she still felt awkward about it.
In the night, she found that she was able to sleep fairly easily. Maybe it was because she had to work all day, and that familiar physical labor comforted her body and mind. Maybe it was because she had a surprisingly plush bed. It wasn't a fine, rich person's bed, but it was better than what she had in her homeland.
Maybe ... and Hulda didn't want to admit this ... but maybe all the attention from the men put them in tranquil states.
Hulda didn't want to dwell on her feelings. She didn't have the time. Sleep was coming.
Sleep was here.
And then ...
And then a woman screamed.
And a baby screamed too.
Hulda's body shot up in the darkness.
A rough man's hand was pulling her by her dress' collar. Hulda shrieked and rocked against the movement. She tried clawing at the hand that had claimed her. She felt the flesh gather under her fingernails, and she heard a man's curse of pain.
