short stories online Amily

Amily

Amily was cross. She was more than cross, she was furious. She had been chosen to mind her little brother, again. Normally she quite liked him, as he stumbled after her on his short legs, babbling in a way that made her laugh, but today there was something much more exciting happening. The men were preparing to go on a hunt. There hadn't been a hunt for months. First there was too much rain and then there was too much work with the harvest. But now the wheat was in and the grain was all stored in pits. The Druid was here, bringing blessings from the gods and medicines for the villagers. So the chief had decided that it was time. Outside the men were gathering and the Druid was chanting. Amily longed to be there.

    

 But Amily was not allowed to go. She wasn't even allowed to watch. Her brother was unwell. He had an evil spirit in his chest which was making him cough and cough. He had to stay warm, and to do that, he had to be in the hut. Therefore, while her mother was fetching water, Amily had to stay in the hut too.

     It was dark in the hut. A warm, rich, thick darkness, lit only by the glow from the fire which burnt in the middle of the room. Later, the fire would be built up so that flames would lick the round black cauldron and heat the stew for the evening meal, but for now turf had been laid on the logs. The fire would stay hot and alive, but would not need to be fed. Amily knew that fires were as ravenous as the wolves she heard howling in the woods at night.

     

Amily could smell the fire and the smell was as familiar to her as the smell of her mother. She could sniff and tell in a moment whether the family were burning ash branches or hazel, hawthorn or coppiced elm. To Amily, it was the smell of home.

    

The glow from the fire lit the face of the boy who lay next to it asleep on the blanket. Amily swept the floor around him savagely. Any crumbs or discarded meat would make food for the rats, and her mother hated rats. Amily decided that today she hated her mother. She knew her mother was anxious about the cough because her sister had coughed in the same way before she had died. That didn't stop Amily from muttering a curse against the unkindness that kept her inside the hut. As she said it, she wished she could swallow the words back, but it was too late. She looked around worriedly. Maybe nobody had heard. She chanted a good will incantation, and crossed her fingers. 

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