ONA (III)
Ona wandered the Cagwynt town square market stalls, sniffing fruits and soaking up the atmosphere as weekend vendors plied their trade. It had been a long week at the schoolhouse – the pressures of the ongoing interferences of the Cognati had put her and Master Poones under considerable pressure. It felt refreshing to be outside among the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, watching people and examining the various produce on sale. Many of the traders sold fruits and vegetables, but a fair few sold animals. One section was dedicated to wooden carvings and tools.
Although not a native Trintanian, she had grown to love these people. They were humbler and had more heart than those she’d known growing up in Pentan. As daughter of famous natural scientist, Dofessor Lana Tames, she had lived in a big house on the outskirts of Luxatrev and was raised – mostly – by her Nanny, Maron. Her mother was often tied up in university matters and frequently attended Court as an advisor to the Rix. Ona competed for her mother’s attention with university deans and other dofessors, as well as travelling members of court and publishers who were keen for her name to appear on their texts. That said, she never felt lonely. Maron cared for her dearly and treated her like her own child; it was fair to say Ona was surrounded by an abundance of love. Similarly, she had the best education, the best clothes, the best of everything a girl could ever want. But as she grew, it became apparent that something was missing. And at the age of eleven, she started to realize what that something was. Maron had brought her into the city to meet with her mother for an appointment (even Ona had to make appointments to see her mother). A writer had been hired to tell the life story of the famous Dofessor Tames, and they wanted to include an oculoprint of her and her daughter in the book.
As she and Maron waited outside her mother’s building, Ona watched an elderly vagrant lady sitting on the ground near the path. Passers-by ignored the lady and gave her a wide berth when they walked past.
“Give me something to eat and I’ll share my powers!” yelled the lady. “One boiled egg to hear what’s ahead. Roasted duck for a bit of good luck. A loaf of bread to speak to the dead. Meat and veg pie to cast an evil eye.”
Young Ona looked up at Maron. “What is the lady doing?”
“She’s trying to use her skills to earn a meal,” Maron said with a gentle smile. “Her verse needs a little work though.”
Ona gazed at the vagrant lady. “She can do all that magic stuff she says?”
Maron shrugged. “She says she can. Some of those who believe in the old gods claim to have such abilities. People from the same place as I am from.”
Ona was fascinated. “Where are you from, Maron?”
“A place in the West called Trintan. Many from there come here looking for opportunities. I have been lucky, but others have to work a bit harder to earn a living.”
As they spoke, she noticed her mother striding up the path towards the building, followed by her attendants and other people unfamiliar to Ona.
“Mummy,” Ona called out and ran to her mother.
“Ona dear. How has your morning been?”
“The best,” Ona replied. “Maron took me to the market, and I ate an apple. Then we came here and watched the Trintan lady telling people about her magical powers.” She pointed in the direction of the vagrant lady who was now quiet.
Her mother frowned and leaned over to one of her attendants and gestured to the lady. “Do something about that, will you?”
Her attendant nodded and left them as the rest of the group entered the building. In her mother’s office, Ona watched through the window as City Guards approached the lady, hit her with their sticks and then thrust her into the back of their prison wagon. As horses pulled the carriage away, Ona tried protesting, saying the lady only wanted something to eat. Her mother gave her a cursory glance and a half smile and went back to telling the man about her life. Maron squeezed Ona’s shoulder and told her to get away from the window. But her face said it all – she was saddened, maybe even embarrassed, but she was resolved to the way of things. Ona, however, was not and that was the start of her obsession. She asked Maron more and more questions about Trintan, its people, and the injustices they faced. The answers awoke something in Ona. She came to realize what had been missing from her life – substance. She felt ashamed of all the privileges she had received throughout her existence. The human realm was not a fair place and never had been. In Trintan, people lived an unjust existence with considerably less than the people of Pentan. It made Ona sick, but she continued to ask questions and read more about the western region; she was captivated by everything about the place.
This newfound knowledge fed her heart and her mind. She easily secured a spot at her mother’s university (a feat she achieved because of her diligence and thoughtfulness – and not because of the famous dofessor’s influence) and had whatever career path she wanted ahead of her. However, surprising everyone, one year into her studies, she decided to focus on education with the aim of moving to Trintan to become a teacher. She came to believe that education was the resource that Trintanians needed the most – not bush farms or weapons or spiritual guidance – to enable them to stand shoulder to shoulder with their country neighbours. Her mother, of course, was not impressed. She had dismissed Ona’s new passion and ambitions as a passing fad. Yet, here she was, nine years later, at home among the people of Trintan, and very much in the midst of their struggles and challenges. And it all started with that elderly vagrant lady at the university. Where was she now, she wondered? She probably died in one of the city workhouses. That’s where the vagrants and peasants of Mandatrev and Luxatrev ended up; killing themselves while making things for wealthy owners. The world was still a desperately unfair place. She might not be able to do anything to prevent the closure of the schoolhouse. If it did happen, it would be a tragedy and leave her feeling like she’d wasted the last nine years. It would all have been for nothing.
As she stared into the distance, she saw a familiar face in the crowd. A boy of ten with a basket full of bread. Instantly, she strode over to him and as she approached, she heard his young voice calling out. “Fresh bread. Straight from the oven this morning.”
She approached him from behind. “Pimmy,” she said.
He turned around and smiled. “Alright, Mistress Tames?”
“I thought I might see you today,” she said.
“Best spot this time of the week,” he said.
Looking around him, she could see he was alone. “Where is the rest of your family? Why is it only you here today?”
“Mother stayed home to do the baking and take care of my sister – who can’t do much because of her ill health. Father’s taken a cartload of bread to the city to sell. My two brothers have gone with him.”
“So you’re left alone in the market?”
“Aye,” he says.
“How are the sales?” She asked.
“This is all I have left now,” he gestured to the basket, which contained a dozen or so pieces of Columato long-bread. “All the white loaves and crumpets went really quickly.”
“Not fans of the long-bread here, are they?” Ona said.
“Nah, they keep calling it foreign muck and say it’s too chewy.”
“Let me buy those remaining loaves from you,” Ona said.
“Miss, you don’t need to do that.”
“Oh, I want to, but on one condition. You come to the schoolhouse this week?”
“Can’t make any promises, Miss. Mother and Father got me out here most days now.”
“Can’t they spare you for one day?”
“It’s hard, Miss. Sister needs regular medicine, and it costs coin.”
“It’s very unfair on you to have to do this…”
“I know but not much we can do, Miss.” His smile became a snarl. “Ruddy Committee have made it damn near impossible for us to earn a living. Got their claws in everything these days. If I had my way, I’d blow the whole hocking Prime Domol into pieces.”
Ona grabbed his shoulder and looked around to make sure they hadn’t been overheard. “Pimmy… Careful with your words.”
“I know, Miss. It just makes me so angry.”
“I understand….” Ona sighed. “But you don’t know who’s listening. These are strange days.”
The boy’s eyes looked to the ground like he’d just been told off.
Ona thought it best to maybe change the subject. “How much do I owe you for the bread?”
He sighed. “Two shillings, and two pennies, please.”
They exchanged the coin, and she placed the bread in her basket.
“Thanks for that, Miss.”
“You’re welcome, Pimmy. Remember our agreement. Schoolhouse next week.”
“I’ll try… Maybe I can attend for one day.” He raised his hand and walked away.
Ona watched as Pimmy disappeared into the crowd with his empty basket. One day would be better than none, she supposed. But she couldn’t shake the bitter, sad feeling inside. Here was a boy whose future was fast disappearing, and there was little she could do to help him. Despite having left her home and life behind in Pentan to come to this place to make a difference, what had she really accomplished? Nothing. She grabbed a Columato long-bread and took a bite off the end of it. His other customers were right, it was too chewy.
THANKS FOR STOPPING BY. THAT’S ALL I CAN SHARE FOR NOW. DID YOU ENJOY READING THESE CHAPTERS? SIGN UP FOR UPDATES FROM THIS BLOG AND HEAR WHEN THE FULL NOVEL WILL BE RELEASED!
