The Six Maidens

Chapter 1: The Dullness

Six girls gathered at Della Shane's home after Mass for a meal. They are with her parents, and her brother, Jacob. All six were friends of Della's. Della was the daughter of a shepherd, in the town of Derlain. She had brown eyes, and dark brown hair that she kept in a braid. She was good at making friends and making peace between friends. She saw evidence of this in the fact that she had been able to gather here to her table a group of girls who were all so different from one another.

Emma Poole sat around the corner to Della's da's left. She had deep gold hair in a neat braid, and looked ladylike and serene, like her mother. The Poole family were money-lenders. She was the richest girl in town. But in a town like Derlain, this meant very little. Everyone was poor here, especially compared to the wealth of the capital city.

On Emma's left sat Jane Weaver, reading a book in Latin. She was always reading, even as she ate. Della would never read while eating. She would not risk something as precious as a book to her not always lady-like eating habits. Jane didn't have that problem. Her bites were precise. Perhaps Jane liked to keep her tawny hair short to better keep it out of her food, and from falling forward into her face as she read. Her, father Frederick Weaver, was a scholar of the Bible. He was a hero to the town, for bringing copies of the Bible in the vernacular from far away. Jane was interesting to Della because she found a way to make nearly everything into some grand philosophical issue. Other girls found that annoying, but Della didn't mind. Sometimes she welcomed it, even. It made life feel less dull, more like a story, the way Jane gave monumental significance to ordinary acts.

At Jane's left sat Cathlyn Tara. Her wavy hair was light colored, bouncy, and loose. Her jewel-like green eyes, pretty face, and wide hips made her the talk of the town - the town's boys and men. She had a carefree attitude that Della admired. She loved to wander far from town and collect wildflowers in distant fields. Della never did that. She used to roam with the sheep as a little girl, tagging along like her father's sheep dog. But lately, her ma had been giving her chores that kept her at home. Cooking, cleaning, milking, feeding, carding, spinning, dying, and weaving. Her ma said that was proper for her. She had recently begun to bleed every month, the sign of womanhood. It meant she would soon have to choose a husband, or her da would choose a local man for her whose father he knew. He would probably be a shepherd, so Della was instructed in the tasks expected of a shepherd's wife. Della envied Cathlyn. She was the same age as Della, but retained the innocence, the carefree attitude, of childhood. Perhaps it was because she was an orphan. She had no place in the world, other than that which she chose. She lived with Sister Margaret and was taken care of as a ward of the church. The nuns said she would likely be too boisterous to join their ranks when she was an adult. And what they said behind her back, was that her flesh was too tempting for the celibate life. The boys in the town would likely riot if she chose the convent. The nuns instead hoped the right husband would settle and gentle her. But they never got active in setting up matches. They were busy with more important things, and now that Cathlyn could dress and feed herself, she was mostly left alone.

Across from Cathlyn sat Missy Fields. Missy was hard, with angular features. Some called her masculine. Della preferred to think of her as simply strong. Her glacial blue eyes could sometimes look intimidating. She had straight brown hair, neatly tied back. She was a hunter's daughter. She hunted too, but more commonly was the one skinning, gutting, cleaning, and butchering animals her father killed. She sold meat in the town square. Boys did not tease her like they did Cathlyn or Della. Other than Della, few even approached her, other than to buy meat. But Della, by befriending Missy, had come to learn she was more than her hard, unapproachable looks. Della hoped to get more people to see her softer side.