The Treasured One - Page 11/118

Omago nodded. ‘Was there something you wanted me to tell him?’

‘Not right now, no. I just wanted to be sure that I’d recognize you in case something came up that I needed to let him know about.’

‘You could always go on up to his house and tell him yourself, you know.’

‘Maybe, but people tell me that he’d rather hear you tell him these things. How did you get to know him so well?’

‘He used to come here to this orchard when the trees were blooming. An orchard in bloom is prettier than any flower-garden. This was my father’s orchard back then, and I was only a little boy. Veltan and I used to talk for hours and hours, so I probably know him better than anybody else around here. That’s most likely why the local farmers decided to use me as their messenger boy. You don’t live around here, do you?’

She shook her head. ‘No. I live quite a ways away. I was very sorry to hear that your father died recently.’

Omago shrugged. ‘It didn’t really come as a surprise. His health hadn’t been too good for the past several years.’

‘You’re busy,’ she said, ‘and I’m just underfoot. It was nice meeting you.’ She turned to walk away.

‘What’s your name?’ he called after her.

‘Ara,’ she replied back over her shoulder.

For some reason, Omago couldn’t get the strange girl out of his mind. He realized that he didn’t know very much about her. She hadn’t even volunteered to tell him her name until he’d come right out and asked her.

She was obviously several years younger than he was, but her manner of speaking was hardly adolescent. She’d managed to get a great deal of information from him, but she hadn’t given him very much in return.

He tried to just shrug her off, but the memory of their brief conversation kept coming back, and it wasn’t only the conversation. She was far and away the prettiest girl he’d ever met. Her lush auburn hair reminded him of autumn, and the memory of her vibrant voice sang in his ears. He felt an almost desperate need to find out more about her.

It was spring, and there were all kinds of things he should be doing right now, but he just couldn’t keep his mind on his work.

‘I can’t seem to think about anything else, Veltan,’ he confessed a few days later.

Veltan smiled. ‘Is she still in the general vicinity?’ he asked.

‘That’s what people tell me,’ Omago replied. ‘I haven’t seen her myself, but several other farmers have. They all tell me that she’s been asking a lot of questions - most of them about me. You don’t suppose she’ll just turn around and go on back home again, do you? She didn’t even tell me the name of the village where she lives. How in the world am I ever going to find her again?’

‘I wouldn’t really worry too much about that, Omago. She isn’t going anywhere.’

‘How do you know that for sure?’

Veltan grinned broadly, but he didn’t answer.

‘I think its time for us to do something about this, Omago,’ that vibrant voice said quite firmly.

Omago dropped his hoe and spun around. ‘Where have you been, Ara?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’

‘Yes, I know. Neither one of us is going to get anything done until we settle this. My name is Ara, I’m sixteen years old, and I want you.’

Omago almost choked. ‘Is everybody in your village this blunt, Ara?’ he asked her.

‘Probably not,’ she replied, ‘but I hate to waste time. Are you interested?’

‘I can’t really think about anything else,’ he confessed.

‘Good. Is there anything we have to go through before I come to live with you?’

‘I’m not really sure. I’ve never been very curious about this sort of thing before.’

‘That’s nice,’ she said with a sly little smile. ‘Let’s go talk with Veltan. If there’s supposed to be a ceremony of some kind, let’s get it out of the way. I’ll need some time to prepare supper for you.’

And so it was that Omago and Ara were wed that spring, and Omago’s life wasn’t ever the same after that. He never actually found out very much about her, but as the seasons passed that became less and less relevant. The wonderful smells coming from her kitchen seemed to put his curiosity to sleep, but they definitely woke up his appetite.


2

It was on a blustery spring night about ten years after the joining of Omago and Ara when Veltan came to the door. It seemed to Omago that his friend was almost in a state of panic. ‘I need help,’ he said desperately.

‘What’s the problem?’ Omago asked.

‘This is,’ Veltan replied, holding out a fur-wrapped bundle. ‘My big brother came by and foisted this off on me, and I haven’t the faintest idea of what I’m supposed to do about it.’ He turned back a corner of the robe to reveal a very small infant. ‘I think he’s going to need food, and I don’t know the first thing about that.’

Ara firmly took the baby away from the distraught god and cuddled it to her. ‘I’ll take care of him, Veltan,’ she told him.

‘He doesn’t seem to have any teeth, Ara,’ Veltan said. ‘How can he eat without teeth?’

‘I’ll take care of him,’ she said again. ‘There are several women nearby who are nursing. I’m sure I can persuade them to feed your little boy.’

‘Nursing?’ Veltan asked curiously. ‘What’s nursing?’

‘Oh, dear,’ Ara said, rolling her eyes upward. ‘Just go back home, Veltan. I’ll see to everything.’

‘Are they always this small?’ Veltan asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen one at this stage before.’

‘Just go home, dear Veltan. Everything will be just fine.’

‘I feel like such an idiot,’ Veltan confessed. ‘My brother knocked on my door, told me that this little boy would be one of the Dreamers, and then he left without saying very much more. I’ve never really paid much attention to infants, so I don’t know the first thing about them. He will grow some teeth before very much longer, won’t he?’

‘He’ll be just fine, Veltan. Go home - now.’ Ara imperiously pointed at the door.

Omago didn’t get too much sleep for the next month or so. Babies tend to be very noisy, he discovered, and Veltan seemed to be underfoot every time Omago turned around. It occurred to him that it was probably time to add a room to his cottage - or maybe two or three. He began mixing clay and straw to make the sun-dried bricks that were customary here in Veltan’s Domain. He realized that he was going to have to extend the roof, but that wouldn’t be too much of a problem. He had fairly extensive wheat fields to the west and south of his orchard, so he’d have plenty of straw for thatching after harvest-time.