The Woven Crown (Completed)

Chapter 29

The road to town was as deserted as the surrounding farm land had been, but the further they got from the Tapestry, the more normal the landscape became. Dead forests and barren fields gave way to small crops and the occasional rustle of a small animal in the underbrush. Ryla and Killian walked alongside the woman who introduced herself fully as Odella.

They entered town in the late afternoon. Folireach was small compared to Wheatford and the other towns Ryla had been to. It was a trading town positioned at a crossroads where a lot of travelers came and went. Still, Ryla and Killian pulled up their hoods as the first buildings came into view.

Odella took them to a baker first where Killian gave her a few coins to haggle over the price of a few meat pies and a loaf of bread which were quickly stashed into Ryla's pack. They refilled their water at a fountain and bought half a wheel of cheese at a street vendor's stall. These chores done, Odella pulled them both around a corner to the edge of a dark alleyway.

"Hayes is a childhood friend of mine," she whispered, looking over their heads to make sure no one stood close enough to hear their conversation. "I haven't spoken to him in some years, but I think it's important for you to talk with him."

"Why?" asked Killian.

"I can't tell you anymore than that while we're standing here. Follow me." She led them off the main road and down a series of meandering streets until the houses no longer stood one on top of the other.

"I hope he still lives here," Odella muttered to herself once they stood before a tiny house with a small garden outside. A scrawny chicken pecked its way around the dust and weeds. The tomato plants were stunted and yellowed. Ryla had to hold herself back from reaching for their threads, if only to help them stand a little taller.

"Hayes?" Odella called while knocking gently on the door. No answer.

"Hayes, it's Odella. From the farm?" she stood on the step, leaning to try and peek through the dirty window. Finally, a man cracked open the door. He looked out at her with suspicious eyes sunken into his face and framed by wrinkles that looked like they belonged to someone much older. He opened the door a bit wider. "Odella? It's truly you?"

"If you can believe it," she answered. "May we come in?"

The man peered around Odella at her two companions. Ryla tried a faint smile.

"Who are they?" he asked.

"Friends of mine," said Odella. "Good people. I need to talk with you, Hayes."

"Very well," he said. "Won't you come in?" His voice was mocking in a way Ryla didn't quite understand. They walked into a dimly lit room. It took Ryla's eyes a while to adjust. All the curtains were drawn and only a single oil lamp sat on a table amongst a pile of dirty dishes. Hayes half-heartedly took a plate to a sink that was already full. Clotheslines full of threadbare clothing crisscrossed the room, making it that much harder to see.

"Welcome to my humble dwelling. I'd offer you a place to sit, but there doesn't seem to be any," he said sweeping his arm around the room. Indeed, the only chairs in the room were stacked with more dishes or piles of soiled laundry. Ryla wondered why on earth Odella had brought them here. Hayes didn't seem particularly happy to have company.

"Anais, we have visitors" he called out. Something like a grunt answered him from the back corner. He held up a line of clothes so Ryla, Killian and Odella could walk beneath it. There, in a wobbly old chair sat a woman. It was immediately obvious that something was not right. She sat crouched over needle and thread, sewing vigorously. She rocked back and forth on the chair, making it groan and creak. Her hair fell in strands from a bun that was inexpertly made up at the nape of her neck. She neither looked up nor acknowledged that new people had entered her presence.