The Uninvited
It was raining. It was a nice heavy soaking rain that dampened the soil and Sophie could almost hear the plants drinking. She stood on the front porch of her modest home watching the rain fall in straight wet curtains, the leaves bounce as the drops struck them, the puddles form in the middle of her yard. She had always loved the rain, the sound of it, the feel of it. It was as if the world were washed clean and everything began anew again when it rained.
A rumble of thunder pulled her out of her thoughts and she turned to her washing hanging on the line. So much for that being dry this afternoon, she thought with a grimace, but shrugged it off. Not much to do about that. As she stared at the gently swaying laundry, she glimpsed movement at the edge of the clearing marking the end of her property. Her eyes narrowed and she zeroed in on the spot, trying to determine who or what it was. Everything was moving, what with the rain, but there was something there. She reached inside her door and pulled out her rifle. Visitors announced themselves, they didn’t hide in the foliage, and bears and lions were not unknown to roam close to a home in search of food. Best be prepared.
She heard a groan from inside and was reminded that she had a patient to protect as well. She raised the rifle to her shoulder, set the hock, and called out, "Who’s there?"
Nothing but the falling rain answered her. She didn’t move. "Come out! I know you’re there!" For a long moment, nothing happened. The rain fell, the leaves rustled, water dripped, and her heart pounded. Finally, a figure stepped out of the brush. He was tall and armored. She tightened her grip on the gun, although her arm was starting to tire under it’s weight. "Hold! Who are you? Step any closer and that armor won’t protect you."
He raised his arms. "Mistress, please, I am unarmed. Can I trouble you for food?"
"Identify yourself!" she repeated, not to be distracted and certainly not believing he was unarmed.
"Just a little food, please. Bread or an apple. I’ve been traveling hard for days."
Her suspicions increased. Who the devil was this man? Why wasn’t he telling her who he was? From here she could see he was relatively clean. He had not been walking. Where was his animal? He had a horse somewhere with supplies, she’d bet her farm. Her heart rate increased. Damn it, this was not a good situation. Something bad was about to happen.
He took a step forward. "Freeze!" she cried. "Not one more damn step until you tell me who you are and what you really want! There’s nothing here of worth, so if it’s robbery you’re thinking of, your time is wasted." She really didn’t want him to test her on this; the gun only had one shot and if she missed....
He froze but didn’t seem alarmed or cowed. She tried to look around but was reluctant to take her eyes off of him for more than a second. He kept his hands up. And took another step forward.
Her finger moved of it’s own accord, and the gun kicked into her shoulder as it released the bullet. Even as her ears rang from the noise, the rifle was yanked out of her hand. She stumbled back, reaching for the door to slam and bolt, but was grabbed by her arm to hold her still.
"Damn it, she got me." She looked to the armored stranger hoping that meant he was too injured to move, but she saw that he was only bleeding a little from his upper arm. Frustration filled her and she yanked on her arm, trying to pull free.
"Well, you should have stayed still. She did warn you." The new man holding her arm was young, maybe her age, and he was obviously finding this whole situation amusing, which didn’t help her mood at all.
"Let me go and get the hell off my property!" She gave him her best glare, but considering she was almost a full 18 inches shorter than him, it had very little effect. He was so tall she had to crane her next to meet his eyes and she didn’t like that one bit.
"Mistress, we have some service needed of you. Let’s go inside and we’ll get that taken care of."
Panic. Pure panic. These men were going to hurt her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Her chest tightened and she found it hard to get air. How could she have missed that shot? Then at least it would have only been the one.
"Whoa, breathe little one. In. Out." The giant holding her took several deep breaths, demonstrating. Her glare came back.
"Don’t. Call. Me. Little. One." she spat at him. The anger helped stabilize her breathing and she pulled on her arm again. "Get yourselves gone. After this greeting there is no service I will do for you, I can promise you that. You trespass onto my land and with no introduction assault my person, and then you expect me to help you? Fuck off."
The injured man huffed a laugh while the giant gave a full guffaw. "Well, we would, I assure you, but it’s rather important."
That response only received a snort from her as she contemplated how hard she would have to stomp on his foot. Maybe if she kicked his knee hard enough, she could break the joint?
As if picking up on her intentions, he moved her to arms length, which in his case was a considerable distance and shook his head. "Please."
That gave her pause. A polite rapist? Her hesitation encouraged him and he nodded to someone behind her. For God’s sake, another one? She craned her neck around and saw that there was another person behind her, but this one was female. And a non-human.
She couldn’t immediately identify the species, but her willowy form, red eyes, and pointed ears marked her as one of the many non-human species in the world. She was holding something and even as Sophie got over the shock of having a non-human on her front porch, a bundle was set in her arms.
She looked down by reflex and instantly cradled it. It was a baby, a very young one, asleep. She looked up, confused.
The giant shrugged. "We cannot keep her, but she must not die." Her eyes widened as she realized that they would have left this baby in the forest as they ran, to die of exposure or to be eaten by animals, but for some reason it was too important to do so. She looked back down and saw that the infant had opened her eyes and was gazing back at her, calm as could be.
"You have got to be kidding me. THIS is your SMALL task?"
"It is, give her care. We will be back for her. On your life, nothing must happen to her." And with that they all just walked away.
She stared after them as they disappeared into the woods feeling full of chagrin. What was she to do with a baby? She had no milk, not even a goat, for which to feed it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.
Said baby moved and gave a squawk and she looked down. Those eyes were a steel grey and they absolutely shined in a face of light brown skin. What an odd combination, she thought, never having seen the like before, but finding it quite pretty. She turned and entered her house, eyeing the man on the low cot by the door. He had shot himself in the foot, idiot, while hunting and she had bound the wound as best she could. She wasn’t really a healer, but had some experience with it, so people came to her when they needed something and had no one to care for them at home. This man was widowed with children all moved away with families of their own.
"Didn’t know you were expecting, Sophie," he said as she entered and he saw the baby.
"Har," she said dryly. "How’s the foot?"
"Oh, it’s fine, just achy. What was all the commotion?"
"I tried to talk the stork out of leaving me this little person," she replied, busy unwrapping the infant. She had assumed girl, but she really had no idea and if she was to be in charge of it, it would need a name, which meant knowing a gender. Under the simple white blanket was a warm swaddle of a very fine wool edged in silk, woven with a deep green and chocolate brown yarn. It was a very expensive looking cloth and she eyed it nervously. All of her instincts told her to pass the baby on, to get out of whatever she had fallen into. Nothing she had seen so far made eased her fears.
"Did the stork leave a name?" Gerard grunted as he levered himself into a sitting position.
"No," she replied, not looking up from her inspection. "You better not move that foot; I’m not re-wrapping your foot if you knock that dressing off."
"No, ma’am." he assured her. He had never seen her so flustered and he cursed that he couldn’t make it to the door after the gunshot. Thank the Gods she was unhurt. He had barely gotten back into the cot fast enough to avoid a scolding as she came back in. "Lad or lass?"
She slipped open the clout, which was more than a little wet and needed to be changed, and said, "Lass. Who are you, little one?" she looked up at her, meeting those grey eyes. "Do you have a name?"
Gerard caught sight of those light brown legs kicking and gave a grunt of surprise. "She’s from the south?"
"South?" Sophie did turn at this and arched an eyebrow at Gerard.
"Aye," he replied, craning his neck to see better. "The people to the south are darker skinned. I visited there in my youth as a soldier."
"Hmm," Sophie turned back to the baby. "Do you know any southern names? I can’t just call her little one forever." Or until those strange people came back and got her, she thought, but shoved that thought back on the shelf.
Gerard pondered that for a moment. "Oh, that was a long time ago, let’s see. I only remember a little, a few words. Found, please, thank you, beer, home, woman..."
"Home, what was home?"
"Ikhaya," came the answer. She made him spell it for her and nodded. It was pretty and it would do.
"Ikhaya," she said to the baby. "You’re home."