The Mash

 

“Shhhh,” Alithea whispered to Erthen as she ground the berries into a paste. Earlier that morning, he had been humming. Now he was singing babble lullabies, notes without distinct words. It wouldn’t be long before he was talking. She began speaking, knowing that the vibration of her throat would distract him.

“The stain. What will I do about the stain?” She kept one ear perked for the return of Sisseku to the hut. Alithea had lied about not being able to see in the shadows of a beehive oven. She had needed privacy to mash the berries. She looked at her hands stained with the red juices of the berries. “Oh, Erthen, your mummy forgot about the stain.” He rocked in the papoose, his palms on her neck, humming to the sound of her voice.

She put the berry mash in the small stomach pouch she had found, then inspected it for any tears. Hearing sounds outside the hut, she stuffed it in the front of her papoose. The stain! She picked up the blade, gauged a spot on her hand that would be the least inconvenient and cut. The blood oozed out from the back of her palm and she smeared it over the stain on her palms and fur, then lay the knife down as Sisseku entered the hut.

“We are finishing up the last of the preparations…” Sisseku stopped when she saw Alithea’s hand.

“I cut myself,” Alithea held out her hand, a few drops oozing from the cut. “I’m so glad I didn’t get any in the medicine.”

Sisseku understood little of what she said, but rushed to a shelf, pulled a cloth, then wrapped it around Alithea’s hand. She smiled her appreciation.

“What a clumsy doctor,” Alithea said and Erthen mimicked the syllables “dotter.” Sisseku pointed to her mouth, then to Erthen, and Alithea nodded. She gestured to the pale green mash of the hazel fury leaves, then made a cupping with her palms, and Sisseku brought her a smooth clay pestle and helped Alithea scoop the paste in the pestle. Sisseku tightened the cloth around Alithea’s hand then led her outside.

Fallon and two villagers had loaded the cooked calf on a travois. At the far end of a village, a Fae warrior came riding an elephant with a traveler’s hut mounted on top. Fallon turned to Alithea and spoke formally as though they were strangers, ”We shall accompany the feast.” Alithea nodded, giving Fallon a brief questioning look. “You will ride.” He pointed to the hut. “We will accompany the feast.” He turned to Sisseku who handed the pestle to Alithea.

Fallon and Sisseku hitched the travois to the elephant, then led Alithea to a berm beside the elephant. Sisseku stayed close by and took the papoose from Alithea. Fallon stayed in character, not showing any familiarity. He held the pestle while she climbed the ladder, then handed her the papoose. Recognizing his dad, Erthen babbled a sing song about “daddy, daddy, daddy.”

Alarmed, Alithea reached for Erthen and sang along, “Dotter, dotter, daffy dotter, daffy, daffy, daffy. Cut her finger with a knife and laughy, laughy, daffy.” Sisseku clapped her hands in delight, repeating the rhyme. At Fallon’s puzzled look, Alithea gave him a look of relief, then disappeared inside the traveler’s hut. As she held Erthen close to her chest, she felt the quick beat of her heart.