The young man nodded slowly. Makellos gave him a friendly smile. “Is it just you alone here?”
The young man hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “Who else lives here?” Makellos asked politely.
After a moment, the young man held up a hand, splaying five stubby fingers, then his other hand with two. Makellos blinked. “Seven of you?” The young man nodded. “Goodness, it must be quite crowded,” Makellos said with a slight frown, gazing around at the singular living space. “I suppose it might be an imposition then for me to ask to stay the night?”
The young man looked thoughtful, then shrugged and gestured to the empty room. “You need to discuss it with the others who live here?” Makellos guessed, and the pink-cheeked man nodded. “That is entirely fair,” Makellos said, giving him a polite smile. “Would you prefer if I leave until they return?”
The redhead shook his head quickly and gave Makellos a hint of a smile, shy and sweet. He held up the pheasant and hare, then motioned to the large cauldron that Makellos had been scrubbing. “Those are for your dinner?” Makellos asked, and thelittle man nodded again. “I may not look like it, but I am actually quite good in the kitchen,” Makellos said. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to prepare them for you.”
The man’s smile brightened, and he finally stepped inside the little house. He pointed to himself and the animals over his shoulder, making a chopping motion with his hands. “You can dress the meat?” The young man nodded. Makellos felt relief flood over him, glad he would not have to butcher the animals himself. He had done it a few times in the castle kitchens in his years of experimenting and learning, but it had always made him quite sad. He was happy that he was not expected to take on the gruesome task now. “I will go pick some vegetables while you do that,” he offered, and the man’s blue eyes shone with delight. He gestured at a nearby basket, which Makellos happily took and headed out the door and around to the garden.
The garden patch was actually larger than he had first realized, but he supposed it would have to be if there were seven people living in this little house. The red-haired young man had not said a word to him yet; perhaps he was mute. Makellos wondered if that would be the case with everyone who lived in the house. Was it a family who lived here? Would he be able to communicate with them? Would they know how to read or write? He knew some peasants had that education, but certainly not all.
Makellos wondered all of this to himself as he walked through the garden, pulling fresh carrots and potatoes from the ground and dusting them carefully off. They were not as large as the ones he saw in the palace, but the fact that this home had its own garden at all here in the woods was extremely beneficial. There were a few sprigs of herbs growing here and there as well, so he added a few to his basket. The garden could do with some weeding and pruning, but it could be quite lovely and bountiful with some tender loving care.
He headed back inside the coolness of the cottage. The red-haired young man was in the corner, meat laid out on a slab of wood. Makellos could see the feathers from the pheasant in another basket nearby, and the rabbit pelt off to the side. It seemed like nothing would go to waste. Makellos set firewood inside of the hearth and attempted to light it, but he had never lit a fire before, and he felt the little man’s eyes on him as he did. He looked up sheepishly as the redhead approached him. “I am not used to doing this.”
The young man smiled, letting out a soft breath that sounded like a chuckle. He picked up the tinder box, showing Makellos the steel and flint within, and then struck it several times to produce a spark. It caught the bundle of dry grass the young man held, and then he set it into the hearth and blew on it. The sparks flared, and a small fire began to glow deep within. Makellos clapped his hands with delight. “Thank you! I shall have to practice doing that myself sometime.”
The red-haired man let out another airy-sounding laugh before he got up and went back to his work. Makellos finished scrubbing the large cauldron. Once it was done, the young man returned to his side and helped him set it upright and hang it on the hook over the fire that was crackling pleasantly now. Makellos filled the kettle with water from the pump multiple times to make the base of the soup. He took the prepared meat and put it into the pot, since that would take longer to cook. He was aware that the little redhead kept an eye on him as he worked. The man grabbed a washboard and a basket of clothes. He held them up for Makellos to see and inclined his head to the door. “You’re going outside to wash clothes?” Makellos asked, and the young man nodded with a bright smile. “That sounds good, I will prep the rest of dinner and get the dishes ready.” He moved over to wash and cut the vegetables as the young man walked out into the fading sunshine.
He wondered about the other occupants of the house as he laid out place settings for eight on the large wooden table. He knew it was presumptuous of him to assume he could at least stay for dinner, but hopefully they would not turn him out without at least a bite to eat. Fruits and nuts could only sustain him for so long, and with the weather getting colder, they would become more difficult for him to find. He couldn’t rely on the generosity of the forest animals forever either.
He dumped the vegetables into the simmering pot, adding several handfuls of fresh herbs and some salt from a jar to the mixture, and then put the lid onto the large cauldron. He washed the dishes he had used and put the excess peelings and roots of vegetables in the basket to take out to the garden later to scatter. He had never learned how to grow his own vegetables and herbs, but he did remember Auntie Anne telling him that he could do that when he had leftover bits. Especially with food being so scarce throughout the kingdom, it would not do to be wasteful.
Five
The sunlight had nearly disappeared behind the trees when the young man entered again, his tunic wet from doing the laundry. Makellos could barely see it hanging on a clothes line outside in the fading light. He lifted up the lid from the cauldron, hand wrapped in a rag, giving the soup a stir. The young man inhaled greedily, and Makellos could practically see his mouth water. He laughed. “When can we expect everyone to return?”
The young man blinked, then cocked his head to the side, as if listening. After a moment, he pointed out the open door, a large smile splitting his face. Makellos listened too. At first, he heard nothing. Then, slowly in the distance, he heard the tramp of feet through the forest, crunching leaves and evergreen needles underfoot, and the soft murmur of voices. He turned to the redheaded young man. “Is that them?”
The young man nodded, giving him a hopeful smile.
Makellos took a deep breath. If these new people didn’t want him to stay in their house, he would soon have to brave the forest again. The voices were getting louder and clearer now, and then a group of people broke through the tree line. Theywere all bunched together but formed a single-file line as they approached the house. The redhead made a motion for Makellos to stay where he was before stepping around him to stand in the cottage’s doorway. He waved his hands and made a few gestures toward the voices. “Someone’s here?” he heard a voice say, followed by an unclear babble of voices behind it. The redhead stepped aside.
Someone entered the hut, then stopped short, causing the others behind him to collide with him in a heap on the doorstep. There were several shouts and a few curses from the group, and a shove that sent the man in front inside several more steps.
The gathering at the door was unlike any Makellos had ever seen. There were six men, of various ages and shapes. He was sure he was staring at them as much as they were staring at him. He could almost hear the scolding from his mother and his tutors that it was rude to gape, but he could hardly help himself. The six men were of varying heights, but heights that he had only ever seen in children. The tallest one, the one who had stopped short in the doorway, was at least a foot shorter than Makellos, not even reaching his shoulder. He had a pair of round glass spectacles balanced a little precariously on his slightly wide nose, his bushy muttonchops quivering slightly. Behind the man with the glasses were two men about the same height as each other who looked like they were probably brothers. Each had slicked back chestnut-colored hair and thick eyebrows over identical hazel eyes, though one had a pointed goatee and the other only had a few days of stubble on his cheeks.
Makellos gave them a polite smile and a small bow. “Hello.”
“You’re the prince.” The warm voice came from a man just behind the spectacled one, with a thick beard but no moustache. When he stepped out, Makellos could see that his body was quite rotund, but his head seemed larger, and his arms and legs were much smaller in proportion to the rest of him.
Whispers and murmurs ran through the group, and Makellos gave a small nod. “Yes, I am,” he said softly.
“Prince Makellos?” asked another voice. It took a moment for him to find the speaker, for he was the smallest person Makellos had ever seen. The top of his head only reached as far as Makellos’ waist. He had a large forehead, brown eyes peering out from beneath it. Makellos might have mistaken him for a child if it wasn’t for the fact that he was balding and had a thick, fluffy moustache and beard, all of which were streaked with gray.
“What are you doing here?” demanded a different voice. The chestnut-haired brothers parted to let through another man whose arms seemed too long for his blocky torso. His voice was as sharp as the salt-and-pepper beard on his chin, his dark brown eyes boring into Makellos like an auger into a tree, despite the fact that he only came up to Makellos’ elbow.
Makellos gave them another small bow. “I’m so very sorry to intrude on your home.”
“We don’t know why he’s here,” said the sharp man, turning to the others around him as if Makellos had not spoken at all. “Find out what he’s doing in our house.”
“Oh, uh, yes, what are you and who are you doing?” asked the bespectacled man, turning back to Makellos as he tried to sound huffy and stern, chest puffed up like a rooster. The two chestnut-haired men behind him laughed heartily, and Makellos’ lips curved into a smile.
The one with the pointed beard rubbed his eyes with his hand, as if in pain, before shooting the spectacled man a pointed look. “Tell him he ain’t welcome here, Der.”
The man called Der looked at the sharp man with confusion. “Why would he not be welcome?”
