A Veil of Betrayal

Chapter One.

Sunlight was already streaming in through the cracked window of Layle Farley's bedroom when she awoke. Blinking slowly, she stares at the wonky wooden wardrobe in the corner of her room, enjoying the faint sound of bird song and the feeling of her wool blanket rubbing against her body. She sits up and yawns, her thoughts still quiet, before she notices that Eve's bed is empty. Her brow creases as she squints out of the window and sees Bârân is awake, and bustling. She turns to the bedroom door and finds it ajar, with her oldest brother Flylfn standing beside it, his face worn and aged from hard work. "It's nearly nine." He says, his voice seeming loud in the silence. Layle starts and jumps out of bed, cursing softly. "Robart and I have done most of your load already," Flyfn continues, his arms crossed as Layle scrambles around her room for clothes. "But you and Eve need to bring some hides and pelts to the market and have them sold before noon." Layle pauses for breath, and runs her hand through her gray hair. "And who's going to buy them, Flyfn? Ever since more tanners have arrived in The North we've barely sold anything. We haven't sold to anyone in the last week!" Flyfn sucked on his teeth and scuffs the wooden floorboards with his shoes. "A fleet of ships from The South are landing today. There will be merchants in the market. And we can always count on wandering travellers to buy a cloak, or a belt or two." Layle shoves on some stockings and boots before glaring up at her brother. "We both know that belts won't support us, Flyfn. We can barely buy bread right now." He sighs and turns to leave. "I know, Layle. Believe me, I know."

The morning air was much cooler than Layle had anticipated, and as she walks to the market, she wishes she had brought a cloak with her. Her sister Eve walks a bit quicker to keep up with her. If Layle was wearing a wig, they could pass as twins, with their dark skin, steel blue eyes and delicate features. Layle can't remember a time when her hair wasn't silver. Her dad, Declon, jokes that the day her mother died her hair turned platinum white overnight. Though, now it is more grey, or silver with dirt. She wonders if it would turn back to white if she bathed more often. Lost in thought, she nearly trips over a rock, and Eve stifles a laugh. The Farley's live a few miles away from the rest of Bârân, as they are tanners, and nobody wants to live beside a tannery.  Layle enjoys the seclusion, though, as in the city the birds are much quieter. But even from here, through the pine trees, the two sisters can make out a large fleet sailing closer to the port, and they walk a bit quicker. As they stroll down the larger dirt path into the city, a young man comes into view walking up towards them. Eve looks away, trying to brush out her hair inconspicuously with her fingers. However, when he notices them, he sniffs, curls up his lip and moves to the opposite side of the road. Eve visibly sags, but Layle stands up a bit taller. A price to pay for being tanners- they smell. No matter how many washes that Eve can take per day, the smell of chicken droppings and dog faeces, what they use to neutralise the lime that burns off the animal hair and flesh of the pelts, follows them everywhere. "His loss, Eve," Layle says as she wraps her arm around Eve's skinny frame. "Any man would be a fool to not love a girl as beautiful as you."

The market place was alive and noisy by the time they got there. Quickly, the girls unpack their leather and then it was just a waiting game. Within the hour, they sold a pair of boots and two belts, but soon people stopped arriving. In the quietness, Eve's stomach rumbles loudly. "Did you not eat anything this morning?" Eve shook her head, folding and unfolding the same pair of gloves. "The cheese is moulding, and I left the heel of the bread for you." She replied. Layle turns and looks at her sister. Eve's face recently has gotten more chiselled, her eyes more sunken in, and it hurt to see her slowly waste away. Layle looked down at the coins stacked on top of each other, the most coins she has seen in a while. They won't amount to much, but she could get some gruel and milk for Eve, and still have a bit left for some bread and ale for the rest of her family, if she barters some leather to a tailor. Sath and Robart can hunt for rabbits and maybe, for the first time in a few months, the gnawing ache in her stomach might subside. Taking a handful of the coins, and a few of the pelts, Layle smooths down her skirt, and kisses Eve's curly dark hair. "I'll be back in a few minutes, I'm getting you some food. Don't leave the stall."

Layle weaves through the throngs of people shouting and trading. Different smells waft from every direction as she pushes her way through, holding onto her leather firmly. She's aware of her coins that now jangle softly in her pocket, and has heard the stories about pick pockets, so she stays alert about her surroundings and the people she passes by. Finally, she gets to Alaric Tailor's stall, one of her most frequent visits. After a lot of back and forth on the price of the hides that she has to offer, he gives her twelve pfenning and Layle leaves, content. After a bit of wandering around to different stalls, comparing prices, Layle stops at one with some red apples. She picks one up to examine it, and notices that there is blight in one of the sides. The boy at the stall sees her expression and shrugs. "They're all like that, lady. All the apples in Lockbroalm, they have been for the last few weeks. I can sell them to you for half the price, you can just eat around the bad bit." Layle looks at him and splits the apple open, revealing a labyrinth of black disease in the core, spreading outwards. She drops it back onto the stall. "Is it just the apples that are affected?" The boy shakes his head. "I've heard rumours it's happening to the fish too, miss."