Rain Glade by John H. Carroll

usually women or older children tending scattered
fields. After passing the fifth farm, Rain realized how sad it was
that there were so few men to do anything but fight for their lords
and king.
    She thought about Jacob again. It occurred to
Rain that she might someday be in one of those fields, waiting for
him to come home, or be faced with the prospect of him never coming home.
    As if summoned by the thought, a cloud
covered the sun. A breeze joined it a short while later, chilling
her. She rubbed her arms and set a faster pace.
    More clouds joined, darkening Rain’s mood
even more. By the time she reached the first houses that made up
the town of Seyten late that afternoon, drops of moisture had begun
to fall from the sky.
    “Better get home, lass,” an old woman told
Rain from where she was rocking on her porch. “It’s going to be a
downpour if I judge those clouds right.”
    Rain judged them the same way and began
jogging toward the main part of the city. There was always the
possibility of spending the night at one of the inns, either the
one at the edge of town or one of the others that was likely to be
within the city walls. She still had those three coppers Ulga had
given her, but was loathe to spend them.
    Traffic was light, an occasional woman or
older man about their business. Children played in the streets with
little threat of violence. Gangs didn’t exist in Paruth because any
man of a fighting age had to enlist in one military or another.
Only the old and infirm didn’t go to battle.
    The city wall was timeworn. She stopped to
look at it and the clear area surrounding it for defense. It looked
ominous, but empty. An old guard in Lord Greffen’s colors sat in a
chair at the gate watching as group of children entered. He was
missing his left arm, but still wore a sword at his side. Half of
the city was outside of the wall, including the street where the
markets were. Rain walked there before going inside to get
information. She hoped the clouds would hold off before letting
loose with more than a few drops.
    Seven shops lined the street. Five had people
outside, all of whom looked bored. Only one customer was in sight,
a woman talking to an old man selling leather goods. He was resting
his cheek on a hand, ready to fall asleep in spite of the woman’s
droning voice.
    The vendors looked Rain over before losing
interest. She was clearly a peasant in a ragged dress, not a
potential customer. That was fine by her. Verna had told her to try
to sell the chimes to one of the stores for three to five coppers
each, but to ask a silver piece first and let the vendor talk her
down.
    She decided to stay away from the grocery,
which doubled as a feed store. The carpenter looked promising, but
when Rain came to the steps, the woman out front gestured for her
to move on her way.
    Rain did so, not bothering to argue. It was
clear the woman wouldn’t listen to her. She got the same treatment
at the jeweler’s, the leatherworker’s and the rest. The last shop
was the tailor, who also doubled as a dressmaker. There was no one
outside and Rain didn’t think that a tailor would want her wind
chimes, but it was worth a try.
    Inside was a young woman sewing at a table.
She was so involved in her work that she didn’t see Rain. Dresses
and men’s clothing hung from racks while materials for more
garments were stuffed onto ceiling-high shelving. There was little
room to move.
    Rain’s footsteps were silent as usual. She
made no noise as she stared longingly at the pretty dresses.
Looking down, she saw hers had another rip that would need mending.
Tears threatened to fill her eyes, but she took a long breath and
banished silly thoughts of wearing anything pretty in her life.
    “Hello?” The woman at the table stood when
she caught sight of Rain. “I didn’t see you there.” Her voice was
surprisingly strong and commanding.
    Rain opened her mouth to speak, but was
suddenly afraid of the woman kicking her out. The