Counterweave

2. THE MINER'S CABIN

That afternoon Salettin arrived at the property to inspect it in person. The sun, already low on the horizon, glared at him. He entered the unlocked door and frowned at the gaps in the wood that did nothing to keep the cold out after he closed it.

The inside was so dim, he never saw the door immediately in front of him until he ran into it. Two front doors? He wondered about that as he opened it. Weak light from the setting sun allowed him to explore some of the cupboards. In one, he found a couple of oil lamps and some lighting sticks. Unfamiliar with using any kind of lamps, he tried to figure out how to light one while the room darkened even more, conspiring against him.

He held the lamp in front of him and glanced around at the tiny interior space. Not one single room in his apartment was this small. When he rounded the fireplace in the center of the hovel, he found the bedroom, just as the pictures described, a large bed with a chest of drawers to one side, and a lamp on top of the chest. Under the bed, as the Lady indicated, nestled extra blankets, with more blankets on a shelf above the closet.

The closet held the ugliest clothing he had ever seen, plaid flannel shirts and thickweave trousers. In the chest of drawers he found strange thickweave clothing—he didn't know what to call them—one-pieced items with long arms and legs. They buttoned up the front, low to the groin, with a flap in the back, which he assumed was to open for ease in using the facility.

This caused him to inspect the facility. The narrow door opened to a tiny room with a shower and a toilet, a hook for a towel, he supposed, and a miniscule sink. Across from the toilet were two metal boxes. When he investigated them, he found what must be some kind of laundry system, although how to work it defied him. To one side stood a huge canister that was warm to the touch. He turned a spigot at the bottom of the canister and found warm water coming out. Warmth, in this incredibly cold northland. This must be the source for the shower, he decided. Yet everything is so primitive.

When he considered the impression he wanted to make on Chala, his heart sank. He closed the facility door and rounded the table to sit on the couch, defeated. He could never bring his bride here. He wanted her to remember their honeymoon with fondness, not disgust.

Yet, hadn't the Commissioner and her husband claimed that this was where they spent their honeymoon, and that it was their favorite place to vacation?

When he sat, he found the couch surprisingly comfortable. He got up and went to the table, sitting in one of the chairs. Sturdy, he discovered, as was the table. He rose from the chair and returned to the bedroom, testing the bed. Another comfortable piece of furniture, he realized.

But the cabin remained far too cold to enjoy.

Well, there was the fireplace, and the facility at least had a shower. The lamp produced some heat. He wondered how the stove worked.

As he inspected the stove, he shook his head in dismay. The General and his Lady vacationed here. They spent their honeymoon here. How could they manage this place without servants, he wondered, with no idea how to keep the place running without at least a slave or two, as if the small cabin allowed for another person coming along with them.

It looked like he was going to need to ask General A'nden for more information. A honeymoon at his beachside estate in Sector One sounded much more appropriate, and much more relaxing.

Unfortunate that all the servants bowed to his father, not to him. Not until he held his first child in his arms would he gain the authority to populate his estates with his own people.