Sixth Son: Villager in Another World 6

Six.

My family crowded around the straw bed that I lay in.

“Do you know who I am?” Dad asked.

I nodded.

“Ma?”

Another nod. As Ma pointed to each of my brothers, I showed an appropriate number of fingers for each of them, then six for myself. They seemed relieved that I could recognized them all.

However, I did not recognized my surroundings. The house was a wood with daub walls, and a sloped, thatched roof similar to our own. Unlike ours, the smoke air carried the scent of the grass and herbs that hung from pegs on the walls and the rafters. I also caught a whiff of my sweaty body and made a face.

I struggled to rise, but Ma pushed stopped me with a hand.

“Primus, get a basin of water,” Ma said.

My eldest brother left. He excused himself from someone as my brothers and Dad parted. My matronly mother yielded her position to a lovely woman with an olive complexion and curly strands that escaped from her head scarf. She was the village herbalist and our neighbor Agnes. I had probably been carried her.

“How are you feeling?” Agnes asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but no sound would not come out. I licked my dried lips. My mother gave me a cup of water. I drank, but the words were stuck.

“Are you feeling feverish?” she asked as she felt my brow with a calloused hand.

I shook my head to fever, nausea, and each of the symptoms that she named.

“Can you do something besides shake your head?”

I nodded.

“He can count,” Ma interjected.

“That’s a good idea. Let us test his wits with math. What is two and two?”

I answered with my fingers. A few questions in, a voice that was high for a girl, but deep for a boy interjected.

“What is five times five?”

“Helen!” Agnes scolded.

“You made me learn that by that age, Mother,” her sullen answered.

The girl was thin with smudged, knobby knees and pointed elbows. Leaves, grass, and even a sizeable twig stuck from her disheveled hair. Her shirt and pants were dirtied to match. Agnes turned and blocked Helen’s path.

“Don’t come a step closer,” Agnes challenge.

“I just want to see how the pint is doing,” Helen answered innocently.

“I forbid it, I won’t have his head shaved, because you gave him nits.”

“Nits? I don’t have nits,” after scratching her head, she amended her statement. “Well, not many.”

“Step outside and stay outside for the time being,” Agnes hissed.

My brothers noisily shuffled against the walls as Helen noisily stomped out of the house. Meantime, I had pulled out straw from my bed and arranged them into a pair of X’s and a V. Agnes saw the straw and patted my head with a smile. Primus returned with a basin of water and a piece of cloth.

My father stroked my head before heading for the fields. Except for Quintus, my other brothers clasped me on the shoulder before leaving me to my bath time.

Sixth Son: Villager in Another World 5

Five.

I awoke tired, ate, and tried to do my chores. Ma checked on my partway through the morning, felt my forehead, and sent me back to bed.

The wound became a turgid, red spot. I tried to keep my hand away from it, but it itched and heated up. The heat spread until it lay heavily over my entire body. It became difficult to even breath.

I slipped into a sticky, restless drowsing, and soon opened my eyes halfway to waking before slipping under again. Day and night became a blur. Regardless of the time, the only constant was the oppressive heat. Pungent poultices appeared on my chest and brow. Someone propped me up to sip some water that I could barely swallow.

Between being half-waking and half-sleeping, I saw things that could only be dreams. Massive cities full of strangely smooth towers of white stone and unnaturally smooth ice. There was a cacophony of people who I didn't recognize and a crowd of alien noise against a riot of color. There were even faint scents and flavors that I could almost grasp as if they were faded memories. I let the impressions wash over me; they distracted me from the fever and pain.

I probably spoke, but I could not recall the words the moment I spoke them. My family and the neighbors appeared before me as did a white robed priestess.

Days must have passed, when I awoke one cool morning. The oppressive heat had finally passed. I sat up in daze. Tertius was the first to see me. He ran out of the room excitedly calling for Ma and Dad.

Ma clung to me tearfully, while Dad asked me how I was. When I opened my mouth to answer, I could not find any words. My head felt stuffed so full, that I could not reach the words. I tried to speak several times, then closed my mouth and shook my head. Dad turned pale as he grasped my head to look me in the eyes.

Sixth Son: Villager in Another World 4

Four.

The pain didn’t hit until the object had been pulled free. I bit down on my lip as Tertius pulled me close. Dad and Ma came in and demanded from Primus to know what the commotion was.

He led them over to us. It grew too crowded with everyone near us, so Dad tried to send everyone else away, but Tertius refused to leave my side. It took some convincing, but he got Tertius to pass me over to Ma.

Dad took over putting pressure on the wound. Ma left the room and came back with linen and a some leaves that she used to dress the wound. I bit my lip and a whimper down as she worked on the wound.

Tertius stood close to my side of the room with his arms crossed. His usually gentle features were furrowed in a stony glare that was bathed in garish red light as the fire was banked. Quintus shrank in the opposite corner near the fireplace.

“What happened?” Dad growled.

“I woke up to see Quintus holding my arm, and then he stabbed me with that,” I answered.

I pointed to the thin object with a darkened tip. It resembled a somewhat long nail and looked smaller on the ground.

“Is that true?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he answered.

My other brothers were surprised, but Quartus’s eyes popped in shock.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, I meant to just give him a poke, but then he struggled. Then I accidentally stuck him when he swung his arm at me, I didn’t mean to stick him so deeply. I swear to the Gods,” Quintus said in a soft voice.

Dad rose. He trembled in rage as Quintus flinched. Ma laid her hand on Dad’s arm.

“Why?” Ma asked quietly. “Why did you hurt your brother?”

“This morning, Markus said that Sextus didn’t look like the rest of us and might be a changeling.”

“I birthed him myself as I did you, you fool,” Ma said in disgust.

“I thought to prove that he wasn’t a changeling by poking Sextus with an iron nail.”

“Did Markus give you the nail?” Quartus asked.

Quintus nodded. Quartus slapped the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot, don’t you see that he was egging you on?” Quartus asked.

“I see it, now,” Quintus said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean to hurt you Sextus.”

“Father, you’re in ire,” Ma warned.

Dad screwed his eyes close in thought. When he was finished, he grunted with a late response to Ma, before pulling away from her gentle hand. He strode across the room to Quintus, then gestured for him to step forward. He did so reluctantly. We all knew that if we didn’t step forward, it would only make it worst.

With one swift motion, Dad cuffed him on his right ear, causing Quintus to stumble.

“That’s to start,” he said. “Stand, boy.”

Once Quintus regained his balance, he was immediately struck on his other ear.

“That one’s for blaspheming. You’ll get the remainder tomorrow. Never raise your hand against your brother ever again, do you understand?”

Quintus nodded. He continued to wilt underneath the glare until he answered with his voice.

“Yes, Father.”

“Pray to the gods that you keep your promise.”

Dad then crossed the room and knelt before me. He looked me in the eyes.

“Get some sleep. I’ll check on your arm in the morning,” he said quietly. “Come on, Mother, we need to get some sleep, too.”

Dad left the room. Ma reluctantly followed him.

Tertius perched himself on the edge of the bed near me and patted my head.

“How are you feeling?”

I just shook my head.

“You can kip with me. I’ll make sure that no other fool will do anything to you.”

I nodded. I took my blanket over to Tertius’s bed. Since he had inherited it from the broad shouldered Secondus, it was wide enough for both of us.

“I’ll make sure that nothing happens either,” Quartus said with a glare at Quintus.

“Don’t cause anymore trouble,” Primus warned.

Secondus grunted in ascent, and we all laid back down.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Tertius.

“Anytime,” he replied.

The night dragged long as the wound stung. It seemed like I had only just fallen asleep when Dad roused us early. Tertius had to borrow a shirt from Dad, because his was soaking to get out the blood from the night before. Once he was squared away, we were assembled to see Quintus get his back stripped, then striped.

Dad and Ma checked my arm, which seemed to be healing. We went through our day’s chores. Quintus did my share of chores. I picked out the blood stained straw from my bed. We were unusually quite, but things seemed to settle back down until the next morning, when I was stricken with a fever.

Sixth Son: Villager in Another World 3

Three.

The thin and narrow object protruded from his fist.

"Hold still," he hissed.

"Let go," I snapped as I struggled.

He jabbed down. I gave a yelp more from surprise than pain. I tried to twist out and pry off his hand, but still could not get free.

"I said hold still," he ordered.

"Who would?" I demanded.

I kicked at him with my heel. I was rewarded with a solid blow and an exclaim of surprise, but he held on. He let go of my arm during and caught my foot during the next kick. He grabbed a fist full of my night dress with his other hand and roughly tossed me on my face. He jumped on the small of my back, crushing the wind from me.

"Now hold still," he said through gritted teeth.

His hand reached for my left arm again. I thrashed to try to get him off. He must have stabbed down as I tried to twist to face him. Both Quintus and I froze as I looked at the piece of metal embedded in my arm. It looked like a large a nail. It took a moment for the pain to register. He looked as surprised as I was. He did not resist as I pushed him off.

"Ow, ow! What was that for?" I shouted.

"I only meant to stick you a little," Quintus protested.

"A little? iI's stuck in my arm!"

"What's going on?" Primus demanded sleepily.

Tertius was quickest to my side. He studied my arm with wide eyes for a moment.

"I'll be right back," he said.

True to his word, he was back by my side holding a cloth.

"Clench your teeth," he advised.

He gripped my arm in one hand and pulled out the weapon. He held a wadded cloth over the wound. It darkened with my blood. It was his shirt. He stroked my hair, while telling me that it would be all right.