Of Ash & Linen

Nerves coursed through Ava unpleasantly all the next day. She had to focus to not let her anxiety show when Nyra came for her morning visit. Ava checked her pocket over and over again throughout her trip to the stream to make sure that her little stone hadn’t fallen out.

Her heart gave a jolt of fear when she saw Kallan on her way back to the tent. He passed briskly on his way, his eyes catching on her for only a moment. He seemed to look at her with indifference, which only served to stoke the anger she felt towards him.

Nyra left her alone in the tent as always, but Kallan stuck in her mind long after he had gone. Ava revisited every encounter she’d had with him, analyzed every word he’d spoken. Still, she could not figure out what it was about him that made her react so strongly. She could only have concluded that she hated him for his arrogance and rough treatment of her. Though truly, many before him had treated her with considerably more cruelty.

Sighing, Ava let her thoughts drift away as she turned to lie on her stomach so she could peer out of the hole she had made in the tent wall. She glimpsed the boots of several men and women passing throughout the day and even saw a child skip by.

None of them stopped to pay any attention to the tent. Either they didn’t know Ava was being held inside, or they didn’t care. Ava wondered what they would do if she called out to them. She had a brief fantasy of a kind stranger helping her escape but brushed it away quickly. Everything she had learned about people since she’d left home had proven that everyone either wanted to kill her, steal from her, or tie her up and sell her for their own benefit.

The sound of hushed voices caught her attention and pulled her from her thoughts. She picked out Nyra’s voice and then Kallan’s. They were standing near the front of the tent speaking angrily. The voices abruptly fell silent. Ava sat up quickly and hid the hole in the wall with a sack before scooting away a little. When Nyra burst through the tent flaps a moment later Ava jumped. Nyra stopped and eyed her.

“Still so nervous.”

“Hello,” Ava said in response. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from developing a mildly gentle opinion of the woman since she’d been here. Honestly, Nyra was the only person she had regularly interacted with over the last three days.

Even so, Ava was alarmed at the old woman’s appearance. It was still late afternoon, and Nyra had only ever come for her at dawn and sunset. She was at least an hour early.

“Come,” Nyra said briskly, holding the tent flap open.

Ava hesitated. She wanted to ask, “Why?” so badly that she had to force her lips closed. She was too afraid of the answer she’d receive.

“Well, I haven’t got all day, do I?” Nyra was visibly irritated.

Ava shoved her caution aside and got to her feet. Nyra held the tent open for her and then grabbed her elbow to lead her in a direction she had never taken Ava before.

Putting one step in front of the other was all Ava could manage. Her mind was spinning wildly, trying to decipher their destination. Nyra led her past several tents, and she was able to see parts of the camp she had never seen before. In a clearing between tents, several women sat laughing, doing what appeared to be weaving baskets. One of them eyed her suspiciously, maintaining the glare until her line of sight was interrupted by more dwelling walls. A pair of small children burst from the line of tents, almost plowing right into her. They stopped in their tracks and gaped up at her, eyes wide in wonder or fear, Ava didn’t know.

“Scurry on!” Nyra barked and waved her hand. The children were off without a word, though they looked back several times. Ava craned her head to watch them go as Nyra led her onward.

The pair arrived at a cluster of trees. Ava was scolded once more for dawdling when she stopped at the tree line. Finding herself as rooted to the ground as the trees, she did not move. Nyra turned, and Ava saw the reprimand wither on the old woman’s face when she caught sight of Ava’s expression. Fear shown on her face, naked and startling, her eyes unrelenting with an unspoken question. A question she knew the old woman understood, because Nyra came to her and touched her shoulders with more gentleness than Ava had been offered in days.

“What is your name?” Nyra asked

“What?” The abruptness of the question startled Ava into stupidity.

“Your name, child. Something with an ‘A,’ I believe. I couldn’t read the rest. Your signature is so---“Nyra waved her hands at a loss for words. “Minoran.” She finally said, her tone suggesting that the word was insufficient for the meaning she was trying to portray.

She was talking about her signature on the letter that Kallan, and any number of his men, had stolen and read. The one she had written to Coralli. Ava tried not to let the anger resurface in her tone. She needed this woman to be kind to her now. What was it Padovana always said; a spoonful of honey is worth a jug of vinegar?

“Avocetta.”

“Well if that isn’t the most excessive name I’ve ever heard.”

Ava laughed, just a short, tiny sound. She couldn’t help it.

“I agree,” she said. “I hate it.”

“Well, I don’t blame you,” Nyra released Ava’s shoulders so she could put her hands on her hips. “What shall we call you then?”

“Ava,” she sweetened the word with a small smile.

It was Nyra’s turn to give a small laugh. While Ava tried to decipher the old woman’s humor, Nyra began pulling her forward again. Ava let her.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen to you, Ava, but as long as you are under my care, no harm or,” Nyra paused to look at her meaningfully, “impropriety will come to you. Though I can’t promise you more than that.”

Embarrassment flooded Ava’s cheeks momentarily before succumbing to a rush of relief. Nyra had correctly assumed her fears, dashing them away in the same sentence.

The two women came to a stop about forty paces later. They were standing at the edge of a stream. Ava realized it must be the same stream Nyra had brought her to every day. The water here ran gentler and deeper. It was far enough back from the camp and so surrounded by trees that it was secluded. White linens hung from the nearest trees, drying in the air. Ava reached out and touched one gently. It was thick and heavy and not made of linen at all but cotton. They were towels. Ava realized that this must be where the Vorosi bathed.

“Now you’ll not have much time. I’ve got to get you back to your tent before anyone comes along to clean up before the balefire.”

Ava turned back to Nyra to see that she was holding out a cake of soap. Desire gripped her instantly and it was all she could do not to snatch the soap from the woman’s hands. With great control, Ava gently lifted the exquisite thing from Nyra’s hands and into her own. The soap was nothing like what she was used to. This was tinted in a light orange color and filled with specs of dark brown. The texture was alluringly smooth and creamy.

The anticipation she felt shuttered to a halt when Nyra asked for her dress.

“My dress?”

“Yes, child.” Nyra gave one of her signature looks of exasperation. “I won’t be able to clean it properly in the short amount of time we have, but I can at least give some of the blood stains a scrubbing and beat out some of the dirt.”

Ava suddenly found it impossible to ignore the weight of the stone in her pocket. The stone would expose her. Nyra would know that she was not as innocent as she appeared, as content to submit as she had worked so hard to make herself seem.

“Can you turn away please?” Ava asked, attempting to layer the right amount of shy modesty onto her expression.

Nyra gave that look again.

“Surely you’ve had plenty of women see you bare. A royal lady like yourself likely has a flock of twenty women to dress and undress you as you please.”

While she spoke, Nyra did something astonishing. She pulled Ava’s wrist up and untied the knot that secured the linen around her wrists. Ava stared as Nyra unwrapped the several layers of fabric until her arms feel away, free.

The brush of air on her wrists felt odd and amazing all at the same time. Ava thought about dropping the soap so she could rub her wrist but found that she could not bring herself to relinquish the lovely orange cake.

Meanwhile, Nyra had spun her around and was unlacing the back of her dress. Ava had to think quickly.

Acting on the fragment of an idea, Ava slid the soap into her pocket and deposited it on top of the stone.

“Here, let me,” she said, reaching back to replace Nyra’s hand with her own. She had worn very simple dresses since leaving Minore, styles that she could lace up or fasten on her own. This one was a deep tan and featured a boned bodice, so it did not require a corset. It was very plain, though even this dress looked extravagant in comparison to the Vorosi’s attire.

Making quick work of the laces, Ava slipped the dress down and bent to step out if it. Then she bundled the whole thing up and turned to hand it to Nyra. In the transfer, Ava reached into her pocket to grab the soap. When she pulled the bar out, she pulled the stone out with it. The rock was nestled in the hallow of her palm, hidden behind the thick, round cake of soap. She could fill her fingers begin to slip immediately. Her hand was too small for the items it held.

Though all of Ava’s focus was on her dilemma with the stone, Nyra was paying her no special attention. She was intent instead on shaking out Ava’s dress. Ava took the opportunity to turn and set the soap and stone on the ground before she dropped them. Releasing a breath, she hadn’t realized shed been holding, she straightened and turned back to see Nyra examining some of the worst stains in her battered dress.

Nyra grumbled disapprovingly at the dress and clicked her tongue.

Ava stood in her shift and watched Nyra move a little upstream and settle onto a rock nearest to the water to begin working on her dress.

She watched for a moment, and then she remembered the soap.

Crisis averted, Ava discarded her shift and made her way into the stream to begin her bath. She relished every moment. Though it was not in a ceramic tub in a room laden with flowers and scented oils, it was the most luxurious bath she had ever experienced. The water was cool and welcoming on the warm day. The milky smooth feeling of the soap against her skin was wonderful. She scrubbed days of dirt, sweat, and dried blood from her body. She even lathered soap into her hair and scalp. After she washed it out, she lathered it up again and washed it a second time.

If Nyra hadn’t called her from the water, Ava would have spent hours there. She met the old woman at the edge of the stream and accepted the cotton towel she offered her. Nyra stepped away to let her dry off and dress in her shift. It was almost painful to pull the grimy thing over her freshly cleaned body.

“I have some of the women, no matter how unwilling, looking through their things for clothing that might fit you,” Nyra said as she lifted the hem of the old dress over Ava’s head.

When it settled around her, Ava was surprised to see how much better it looked. The dirt had been mostly removed and damp patches of slightly darkened material were all that was left of the bloodstains.

“Nothing could be done for the rips,” Nyra said as she tightened the laces at Ava’s back.

“It’s wonderful, Nyra.” And it was. It was indescribably wonderful to feel like a lady again. Having finished with the laces, Nyra came around to face Ava. She gave a nod. Ava wouldn’t say that her expression was approving, but it was definitely no longer disapproving. Ava chanced a smile and she thought she saw Nyra’s lips turn up slightly in the corners. She tersely produced a wooden comb and offered it to Ava.

“You’ll have to brush your hair out on the walk back. We’ve run out of time.”

Ava didn’t mind. She thought she would cry at the sight of the thing. She ran it through her waist length hair over and over again as she followed Nyra back to the storehouse. She just managed to work out the last of the tangles before reluctantly surrendering the comb once they arrived at the tent.

Once inside, Ava waited.

She knew it was inevitable, and to refuse would only cause her more suffering. Still, anticipating the moment when the dreaded linen would touch her wrist filled her with opposition, which she had to work hard to suppress.

“I’ll be back in the morning. Dinner is there,” Nyra said as she motioned towards the basket she had set down when she’d arrived at the tent earlier.

She paused, taking a moment to assess Ava’s much-improved appearance.

“It’s a wonder what a little soap and a scrubbing can do,” she said with the touch of a smile. Which was, Ava suspected, as close to a compliment one could get from the resolute old woman.

Then Nyra turned to go.

“Wait!” Ava called before she could think better of it.

Nyra looked back at her, expectant.

“My-my hands,” at their mention, her hands rose of their own accord until she was holding them out, wrists together. It was now that Ava realized how stupid she was to bring attention to the lapse in bindings. Short on the heels of that revelation came the realization that she had left her hard won stone by the stream. She forced her hands down to her sides.

“You’re to be left unbound,” Nyra turned back until she was facing Ava again.

“But…,” Ava searched for a way to express her unease. “The kival. Won’t he find out and---“

Nyra crossed her arms and took a step forward.

“Kallan is my concern. Don’t you worry about him,” The authority in her voice was adamant. “Besides, who do you think said to lose the bindings? He can see as well as I that there’s no need for them. You can’t go anywhere even if you tried.” She scoffed. “Ridiculous men, always compelled make their dominance known.”

What started out as relief blooming in Ava’s chest twisted into confusion.

“Fret not, child,” Nyra gave Ava’s shoulder a singular pat before she turned to leave again. “Letting you have a real bath and ordering fresh clothes for you, it means he’s coming around. I’d wager he’ll let you out of this tent any day now.”

And then she was gone. Ava stared after her for a moment before looking down at her wrists. The redness has subsided and the abrasions from the Deimos ropes had mostly healed. She couldn’t suppress her smile. No matter that she had forgotten the stone. She no longer needed it.