Ravenwood by Nathan Lowell

hand in farewell and turned her steps back to the hut.
    She pondered the implications of the overdue wagon, even as she focused on the immediate issues facing the morning. She’d used the last of her willow bark for Sadie and needed to go through her pack to inventory what she had left. She’d planned to get heavier winter clothing in Kleesport but that schedule was already delayed. She could be in Kleesport in ten days and the next village in three but it would be nearly a month round trip to the larger city on foot and the better part of a week to the village, assuming she could get what she needed there to begin with. She sighed and unceremoniously emptied her pack onto the smoothed surface of the bed roll and began sorting supplies from clothing and tools.
    By the time the sun had fully cleared the treetops, she’d sorted out the meager pile and made a mental list of the things she’d need. Her boots would need re-oiling to keep them waterproof and supple, but the leather was still solid and the stitching sound enough for the coming season. She needed some warmer outer wear and a couple of sets of the longer pants to go under her normal walking around pairs. The pants themselves were baggy and styled after the many pocketed pants worn by tinkers to hold tools and bric-a-brac. A few evenings with some suitable fabric and she could line them against the wind and weather. Her lifestyle had kept her lean, almost bony, with hard muscles in narrow bands on her legs and belly. Adding another layer of fabric inside the pants would be no great difficulty. Age had still spread her hips–she grinned ruefully at that–and gravity had worked its inevitable course on her torso, but the bandeau she normally wrapped around her chest kept her cargo from shifting and helped disguise her while on the road by compressing her breasts against her rib cage. Considering the unpleasant chafing of the dangling alternatives, she found the binding to be more comfortable.
    She checked her belt knife and pocketed a few items–a roll of bandage, a bit of aloe stalk, and a steel and flint. Small and lightweight, they could make a difference if need arose.
    She took one last survey of her food stocks, she sucked air through her teeth, grabbed her staff and planted her hat on her head. The day was wasting and she needed to find some willow bark and fresh burdock, perhaps locate some stands of cattail and wild rose as well. The sun had burned the dew from the grass by the time she made her way across the compound toward Amber’s hut. She met young Riley along the way. He fell into step with her.
    “Ma sent me to see if’n you were alright, mum.” He grinned up at her. “Are ya?”
    “I am quite alright, Riley. Thank you for askin’. Do you know how Sadie is this mornin’? Is she ready to go gatherin’?”
    He wriggled in what might have been a shrug, might have been a shake, and might have been just his excitement at the thought of gathering. “She seemed alright to me, mum, but you can ask her your own self. She’s with ma.”
    Tanyth couldn’t help but be amused by him and they strode in silence across the still damp grass.
    At the hut, Riley opened the door and ushered her into the snug confines of Amber’s hearth where she found a much improved Sadie and a rather flushed looking Amber tidying up the hearth and table while Riley’s sister sat under the table apparently playing house with a bedraggled corn-husk doll.
    The women looked up as Tanyth entered and both smiled a warm greeting. Amber spoke first. “Good morning, mum.”
    “Good morning, Amber. Hello, Sadie. Are you feeling better today?”
    “Right as rain, mum. Thank you. Amber says you’re going to take us gathering this morning?”
    “If you’re up to it. Gatherin’ willow bark isn’t very difficult nor does it require much skill more than bein’ able to pick out the willows from the poplars and oaks.” She smiled, aware as soon as she said it that the two city