24 SPRING 264
"Clean these," Rasparis threw down his long shirts at the Ethaefal's feet and carried on like it'd been commonplace and expected. The bastard son of the ankal's sister, the man seemed to have a negative mood about him nearly every moment of the day, a sour cloud that hung about his head and occasionally flashed lightning at his pavilion's indentured servant. Like a slave, it was the Ethaefal's position to accept. She'd come to this family with nothing to provide them that they didn't already have for themselves, so she couldn't fault them for putting her to work in exchange for her boarding with them. She couldn't fault them, and she couldn't quite accept that some of them treated her, a well-intentioned sliver of Syna's golden light, with this level of distrust and disrespect. The other Drykas, outside of this pavilion, had seemed welcoming of her. She supposed it could have been because she hadn't come calling on their hospitality.
The Ethaefal murmured some acceptance, placing the shirts aside with the other clothing she was washing at the banks of the Bluevein. It'd settled into a low murmur after the recent thaw, so she wasn't afraid of being swept up and away with the torrent, and she'd chosen the bank to scrub out stains from her companion's cloths. Others had spread out nearby, children splashing downstream as horses drank up, nearer the herd that grazed on the long stalks of grass, other women washing their own laundry as they chatted to their sisters and wives and cousins. Most of the women here, of five in total, were young, and it seemed to stick out as notable to the Ethaefal, since last year, there'd been more in their thirtieth year, which was as 'old age' as she'd learned the Drykas got.
She was ready to sit back and ponder the meaning behind fresh-faced women she didn't recognize when the familiar smell of sweetgrass and oil heralded the return of Duma from his latest hunt. His visits were infrequent and nice; she'd come to rely on him and his brother, Casi, for their accepting company and patience. He dropped down with a heavy grunt and refrained from touching freshly cleaned, moist linens. Their silence was companionable, punctuated by her vigorous, arm-numbing scrubbing between the prolonged pauses where she relaxed her sore muscles.They'd developed some sort of friendship, although Astarael remained in servitude and he enjoyed a position as one of the Ankal's competent nephews. Rasparis had gone, and nobody really paid much mind to the Ethaefal and her friend.
"Welcome back," she said to the young man, lifting her hands to slide her wet, soapy hands through her hair and rake it out of her face. The other women had theirs braided, and it seemed to her like a good idea. She'd have to pursue it in the future. A sidelong glance was given to the hunter, and her lips quirked in a smile. He had draped himself in a bed of grass like he was the greatest thing Zulrav could ever spit out of the sky, the cockiness of youth worn proudly. He smiled, too, and as she took him in, she could see that he was definitely fresh from the hunt. "Don't touch these," she said. "Freshly cleaned, not for dirty hands."
"Fair enough," Duma said easily, extending an arm to look at the 'dirty hand' in question at the end of it. With no warning, he leaned forward to begin washing the pair in the river, using the soap she'd let sit aside as she worked the fabric against itself, and dropped it back down once he'd rubbed it all over his hands and cleaned the grit. She was actually almost annoyed. Her good soap was a personal matter of pride. But he was nice enough to dry his hands off on his pants. "We caught pronghorn," he said. "Casi's up there cleaning the carcasses. We were wondering if you'd like to join us?"
The Ethaefal finished her scrubbing and began to rinse the clothing out, cleaning the soapy texture and wringing the loose shirt fabric. It was lain out to bake dry in the spring sunlight like the others, and would probably be close to done by the time she finished the next article. She used the act of rinsing, wringing, and laying out to consider and build suspense, before nodding. Eating with Casi, Duma, and their friend group would be a great way to glean more information about this lifestyle from them. She was learning, but still new to it, and had few chances so far to actually spend time with others.
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