landlost | ONC 2024

two.

"WELCOME, WELCOME," THE woman who waved at us said with a kind smile. She and another, taller woman wearing a red dress waited for me to step down from my side of the cart, before the tall woman enveloped me in a hug that made me stiffen with shock. Her dark russet-brown hair tickled my nose.

"I'm Adataneses," she introduced herself, pulling away and examining me at length. I flushed as I tried to rearrange my tichel, drawing it tighter along my cheeks to hide the red. I could feel hair sticking to my forehead, and my simlah felt ratty and grey in comparison to her bright red kethōneth that softly flowed with her hips and reached her ankles.

"And I'm Sedeqetlebab," the more reserved woman said. She took hold of my pack as Shem handed  it down to her, and her smile grew even broader. "Hello, my love," she said to Shem, who stepped down from the cart as well and enveloped Sedeqetlebab in a tight embrace that almost swallowed her whole.

Adataneses rolled her eyes. "Don't mind them," she said, beckoning me to follow her. I hesitated, mainly because I wasn't sure if I could just leave my clothes —— or more specifically, Naamah's parting gift to me —— in the hands of a stranger. But Adataneses wasn't waiting for me, and I took the opportunity to finally escape Shem's stoic presence.

"Shem goes to town for one day and then they act like he's returned from war," she continued, as I hurried to catch up. "Every. Single. Time."

We reached the firepit, and she slowed to a stop. Soft-looking fabrics, newly dyed, were tied to a leather cord spanning two of the four animal pelt tents. An array of delicious-smelling vegetables rested over the smouldering coals on a thick strip of bark.

A woman was waiting there for us, her arms crossed. Her hair was tied back in a bun, pinching her tanned face. She was older than Adataneses and Sedeqetlebab, by a considerable margin, and I dipped my head to her in uncertain greeting.

"Ezmara, Ezmara, look, isn't she pretty? Ham will be so pleased." My guide twisted to beam at me, and I felt an uncomfortable pull in my face to at least try and smile back at her, like not sharing in her excitement was a crime. "Ham and Japheth are still working, but they'll be back soon, and Noah, Noah ——"

Her brows furrowed and she shot a look at the older woman. "Where's Noah?"

"He will be back later this evening as well," she replied. She circled the firepit, taking her time until she reached me, her eyes not leaving my face as she scrutinised what seemed like every dimple and dip I had.

"What's your name, girl?" she asked.

Behind me, Adataneses offered comfort in the form of her soft breath rustling on my shoulder.

"Na'eltama'uk," I replied easily. My own mother offered a similar type of scrutiny, usually followed up by a scathing cut from her tongue, as painful as any time she hit me. At least it was something I was used to.

"Most people just call me Na'el."

"Good to meet you, Na'eltama'uk," the woman said in reply. I blinked. "My name is Ezmara. Ham is my son."

Shem and Sedeqetlebab joined us at the firepit. Shem's wife was still hanging onto my pack.

"And so are Shem and Japheth. Noah is my husband."

Noah. The lunatic. His name was infamous in town, synonymous with most jokes. Father truly had to have been desperate to marry me off to the son of the craziest man in the land.

"Have some food while we wait for the other men." Ezmara tilted her head to the firepit. "You must be hungry. And girls," she snapped her gaze to Adataneses, and then Sedeqetlebab, "don't crowd her. Let her get settled."