Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"

Rander approached Linvin, who was searching through shelves of medical supplies. “Where’s Miri?” the leader asked as he read the names on the jars.

“She is coming Linvin. At the moment she is…well…brushing her hair.”

Linvin stopped moving and turned to face his cousin. “She is what?” he said in an ill-favored voice.

“You heard me right,” Rander confirmed. “She is currently brushing her hair with a horse brush. She will be along momentarily.”

Linvin shook his head and mumbled under his breath. Then he returned to his task. “Go over to your brother and pick out your outfits. They will be large on you as they are proportioned for a human but I saw a couple on the smaller side. Then find something to cover your feet and locate a pair of boots that fits. The weather has been forgiving to this point but that will not last long. Dress warmly and find yourself some gloves as well.” Rander joined his brother and began to search for the smallest outfits.

Linvin filled his arms with several earthen jars and a pile of bandages. He turned to set them on a nearby table when the door swung open. All motion in the room stopped, as they feared the worst.

Standing in the doorway with the morning sun surrounding her silhouette was Miri. The light behind her made her glow with the radiance of an angel. Particularly mesmerizing to Linvin was her hair. It flowed effortlessly past her shoulders. Though not perfect, even the loose hairs that would not be tamed created an aura around her in the sun.

“What’s wrong?” Miri asked.

At first, no one could speak. Then Linvin answered, “Nothing is wrong. We have just never seen someone do so much with a horse brush.”

Miri walked confidently over to him and asked, “Does my appearance please you?”

Linvin looked at his cousins whose gaze was fixed on him and answered, “It is fine. Yes. Fine. Um…here. I have two ointments you may find helpful. The first is here.” He opened a large jar, which concealed a brush in its lid. The smell was horrific.

Miri plugged her nose and asked, “What is that terrible stench?”

“It is a suave made from the mearock root. Once I apply it to your back, it will cause puss to excrete from the wounds. I will bandage it. After about a day, all the moisture leaves the medicine and the hardened root flakes away. Your back will heal much better and faster. I have seldom had a chance to use it. The root only grows in the northern climates and is nearly impossible for my company to obtain in trade. It is worth more than gold.”

Miri retained her hand on her nose. “Is there perhaps one that is only worth as much as silver that might smell better?” she asked.

Linvin sighed. “Just lift up the back of your shirt and let me put this on you. If it helps, you can take solace in the fact that your hair is beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Miri asked as she fished for compliments and lifted the back of her shirt. Linvin wiped her wounds with a thick coat of the ointment and answered, “Well, as beautiful as you can get with a horse brush.” He sliced a cotton shirt in half and pressed it against the mixture. It adhered perfectly and required no wraps. Miri lowered her shirt.

“I feel like a slice of bread covered in marmalade,” she said as she turned around. Perhaps tomorrow I will thank you but for the moment sentiments lean toward repulsion.”