“Well, why are you keeping them in the hallway then?” the hostess frowned. “Forgive my husband’s ignorance. I suspect that he was raised by bears. Come in, dear guests.”
“Thank you, honorable...” Hadjar paused.
“Nela,” the hostess introduced herself. “My name is Nela.”
***
A topless Hadjar was chopping wood. It was simple, pleasant work, the likes of which he hadn’t done since he’d left the village in the Valley of Streams.
Behind him, on the porch, sat Elaine. She was making dolls for children from the neighboring houses. For girls, she made ‘princesses’ in beautiful dresses made from rags, grass, and all kinds of junk. For boys, she made equally silly ‘knights’. They’d gathered around her, looking like chaos incarnate. Some of the children were playing pretend and having ‘balls’, ha
