The next morning was rainy, and the lowering thunderclouds did little to improve that, drowning the countryside in sequential torrents of heavy summer rains. The dark mood of it sank into Harlen's heart. When it was like this, he could not work, and his work was him. Or, at least it had been. He sat in his little workroom at midmorning when Hyandai entered, dressed in one of his mother's old work dresses. She was carrying a large bowl of fruit, all pre-skinned and cut into little chunks. She asked about the various stages of tanning and preparation of skins as he worked, and popped pieces of different fruit into his mouth as he talked. She was slightly disturbed at some of the more gruesome details of tannery, such as where one obtains ammonia for sterilizing the skins and killing all the meat still attached.
"I never knew where the tanner's got their base materials." She said, eyeing the vat in the corner of his tannery dubiously.
Harlen chuckled and said, "Perhaps elven tanners get theirs from another source." He picked up another half-done skin and dropped it into the large vat before closing the airtight lid. "Though I wager they get it the same way but don't tell anyone."
She curled her nose at that thought, then fed him a chunk of 'bananana.' She enjoyed saying it so much she figured she could get away with an extra 'na' in there. Trevir was in and out grabbing this implement or that, then retreating to the back courtyard, he was taking advantage in a break in the rain to work on something. Harlen was curious what he was doing, and Hyandai was as well, but he had asked them to not peek, so they did not.
Harlen offered to let her try her hand at scraping, but she balked at the sharpness of the blade, and said, "I would cut through it or ruin it, and those pelts are worth much to your people." She added, "I will try my hand at small things, when you get rabbit skins or something, where I can make up to you any mistakes I may make in a single night."
He smiled and nodded at that, wishing fervently that she would ruin a very good skin if she were planning on 'making up for mistakes' in the way he was thinking. He watched her deft fingers, though and figured she would not make such mistakes at all, her manual agility was amazing. He often watched her idly performing tricks with those tiny fingers that he could barely manage with precise tools crafted for the purpose.
The thing he most enjoyed was when she found his records. She had seen the dismal state of his financial and transaction records and had flown into a near rage. Apparently, scribes were wroth to let people keep poor records. She had immediately taken his entire chest of small documents and a few hand-penned ledgers and sat down at his second work bench. She wielded quill and ink like a master swordsman, ripping through his shabby accounting like a troll through a goblin camp. Three hours later, she presented him with a single ledger. When he opened it, he gasped in dismay, the records were all now in elven, and used elven arithmetic, as well.
"What in blazes am I to do with these?" He asked, trying to stifle a laugh. "And when the Duke's assessor comes by he will surely throw a fit when he must retain a translator to decipher my records."
She smiled. "Elven math is easier to do, actually, and the assessor probably already knows that." She showed him the finely-drawn characters. "Your people have yet to fully accept the concept of zero, which is amazingly useful. I will one day teach it to you." Harlen nodded with suspicious eyes, but folded the book closed. "And what is the verdict, my love, am I wealthy enough for your tastes?"
She grinned, her secret having been found out. "I did not wish to inquire as to your wealth or lack thereof, but if put to it, I would say more than." She opened his ledger back up. "According to your records, you have over a thousand marks in the ducal vault, as well as the near thousand you keep here."
He nodded. "The duke does this for his people, to ensure against robbery or accident." He smiled. "He is not a bad man, despite what you think from my welted back."
She touched his wide back. "I know. I have spoken to Trevir about him, and the lad says he's something of a hero."
Harlen chuckled, "I wouldn't say hero, but a decent enough man. Unlike some nobles, he does not get overly involved in the day-to-day events of the Duchy. He mostly leaves us alone and we prosper...and send him taxes."
She smiled. "That is a very elven way of governing." She said. "I suppose the proximity of Windir to this land has had some influence, even with our sealing the borders."
---
At noon, the two broke from the workroom and went back into the common. Trevir was just scampering through, with another load of tools in his hands. "I am almost finished, Miss Hyandai!" He said excitedly as he ran through.
"Do you know what he's doing?" Harlen asked her.
She shook her head slowly, but smiled at Trevir's exuberance.
Harlen watched as he went through the bathing room door, dropping a small file as he did so, then recovering it with a hand shot back through the crack in the door. "He is a good lad." He said. "I am glad I could help him, at the least."
Hyandai hugged him. "He will be a good man, too." She agreed and kissed his cheek. "Like his mentor."
He looked down at her, so small beside him, but she controlled him as surely as a puppet master at the fair. If she chose to pull a string of his heart, he would dance to the tune she set. She was looking up at him, as well, thinking similar thoughts. He wondered what he had done to earn the love of a woman, especially an elven maiden. That, he knew from legend, was no small task, for they were not wont to give their love to a human, short-lived and clumsy things that they were. But he had managed it, and was not sure how, for if he knew, he could grow truly wealthy in advising other hopeful men.
He squeezed her narrow waist, and she pressed to him. "On the day following tomorrow, the Sorceress said." She whispered to him. "I will be sound again." Then she looked up at him a second time. "Then you can make me hurt a few days, no?"
Harlen chuckled at her boldness. She went through bouts of that, he was noticing. One moment she was a shy child, then the next a bold and wanton woman. He supposed it had to do with the 'fey,' as she called it. It was part of her, and he had to accept it. It was what helped her make statements like that, but it was also what guided her to terrify and offend Trevir the other morning, as well. He kissed her brow and sighed.
Trevir came back in, carrying a large armload of Harlen's tools and said, "It's done!" And went into the workroom to put them away. The couple looked at one another and awaited his return. A moment later he did so, quivering in excitement. "Come see!" He said and went through the bathing room door.
The couple followed, watching him scamper ahead and passed through the large bathing room, with its huge wooden tub. Hyanda had become enamored of the tub, with its scalding water and its luxurious depth. She bathed nightly, if time permitted, after Trevir had gone to bed.
They entered the back yard behind him, and he pointed to the corner of the court, under a particularly large oak that was wedged between a willow and a elm. The three trees formed a sort of cul-de-sac between them, and he had built his little project there. Its construction was crude and rudimentary, but Hyandai recognized it right off. It was a prayer shrine, an elven prayer shrine. She gasped at it, and held her hand over her mouth. Then she had to fight back the tears she wanted to weep for joy. The lad had built this for her and, obviously, no one else.
She walked up to it and looked it over. It was crudely built, indeed, but it was sturdy, and was in no way disrespectful of the elven religion. Careful attention had been paid to its dimensions, and its orientation, as well. Due east, toward the rising sun and moon. She smiled as she touched the top. "Thank you Trevir." She said, and looked at him and Harlen standing nearby. "How did you know how to build this?"
