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“Here, we have a spare,” Quincy said, taking another wool tunic out,
complete with a thick leather belt and black wooden shoes that were only
slightly too big for Gwen.
“Ah, I see you’ve got a knife! It’s very important to have weapons
around here. You never know when you may need to defend yourself!”
Quincy exclaimed, noticing Gwen’s knife. Gwen changed into her new
boy’s tunic in a different room. She liked the freedom of her new clothes,
but the tunic was hot and itchy. Gwen strapped the belt around her waist,
buckling her knife on also. When she emerged from the room in the
tunic, Quincy clapped.
“Ah, bravo, bravo!” he said, laughing so much tears ran down his
cheeks.
Ivy looked her up and down with approval.
“You’ll do,” she said. Quincy invited Gwen to stay for a day before
returning back to Lien, and Gwen readily accepted. After having lunch,
playing and talking with Quincy and Ivy, she had dinner and flopped onto
the large, soft bed.
The next morning, Gwen arose, washed her hair and her face in the
basin of water Ivy brought her. Quincy took Gwen’s hand and led her to
the breakfast nook.
“We’ve scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon,” Quincy said, “I hope you
find it suitable.”
The eggs were very well-cooked with not one bit of runny yolk and
the bacon was crisp and crunchy.
“This is delicious!” Gwen exclaimed between mouthfuls of eggs.
“Thank you,” Quincy said, beaming, “Ivy cooks just so, so excellent,
doesn’t she?”
“Mmmhmm,” Gwen nodded.
THE JOY OF WRITING
36
“I’ve told you, Quincy, my mother taught me a few cooking things,”
Ivy said, rolling her eyes with mock annoyance.
“Not a few, quite a lot!” Quincy cried, chuckling.
“I smell somethin’ good, if it ain’t by the moon Ivy’s good ole bacon!”
A tall man walked in.
“You shan’t get one piece, Rollan Yord!” Ivy cried, laughing.
“I reckon that there’s gonna be some payment I’ll have to scrape up?”
the man called Rollan asked, raising his eyebrows with mock surprise.
“Aye that’s it, if you’ll be wanting your meal!” Ivy cried.
“How’s grooming the horses?” Rollan asked. Ivy wrinkled her nose.
“Those tender babes, why, they were cowing in their stalls for eight
suns after ye did your torture on ’em!”
Rollan chuckled. “Not to worry, me girl, I’ll just milk your mooncursed
cow,” he said.
“Moon cursed indeed! As if you doubt the noble Sun laid his blessing
on our Rana! Oh well, here’s the milking bowl!” Ivy tossed a small
wooden bowl to Rollan, who promptly caught it.
“I’ll be back sooner than you expect!” Rollan promised.
After Rollan had gone, Gwen asked, “Who’s Rollan?”
“Oh, he just does odd chores ’round here, I can always trust him to
milk the cow,” Ivy said, scraping the last of the eggs onto a plate, along
with a fresh piece of toast and some bacon.
“He’s a good’un, we took him in when he was but a lad, and a clumsy
orphan too, and now he’s repaying the favor,” Quincy explained.
“He’s rather like a giant,” Gwen said doubtfully. Quincy shrugged.
“He’s got big bones, ye know, it comes in the noblest breeds,” Quincy
said.
“He’s a great one for milking,” Ivy said as Rollan returned.
“Here’s your bowl o’ milk,” Rollan said, “now where’s me breakfast?”
“Right here,” Ivy said, pushing the plate over.
“Thanky,” Rollan said, wolfing the food down.
“Er, I should be going now,” Gwen said, biting her fingernails.
“You know, Ivy’s a fortune teller. Perhaps you’d want to get your
fortune before you leave?” Quincy whispered into Gwen’s ear.
“Sure,” Gwen said.
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