Once upon a time...
...it was an unseasonably warm summer when they came, the travelers in their caravans, to the little happy village in the valley. It was now led by the man and his lovely wife. The viscount had passed peacefully in the night a month ago and left leadership to his new son-in-law, such were the ways at the time.
But the caravans came, and when they did, they did not simply pass through selling their wares like was custom. They stayed. The man welcomed this, because to him they were his family and his friends. He introduced his wife and things were well. Because of the influx, the village's resources were strained, but there was still plenty. Tensions rose between the villagers and the caravaneers. The outsiders were called rogues and sneak-thieves, they were treated harshly by the locals for their beliefs and their ways. The villagers were called called words of all manner of curse.
The man stood for his people and did his best to ease tensions. The woman did her part to ease her people. The coming winter had the villagers scared and superstitious about the new comers. Winter came and surprisingly things were fine. Everyone had food, fights didn't break out, and there was a party or two. It seemed that things would stay this way for a while.
However quite quickly in the following year, the man's family of travelers came to him one evening in his keep. Their meeting was private and did not even include the woman.
"Cousin," they said, "how come you have put down roots here in this village? It is not the way of our people."
"Cousins, our plan for this village worked perfectly. We are welcomed with open arms and they give to us without cause. Why should we want to leave?"
"It is not our way. We are meant to travel from place to place. There is safety with the family and safety with our numbers on the roads. The trick of appearing wise and defeating bandits will earn you honor here for only so long. The people will forget. What happens if they learn of the poison? They will question what really happened. In your story that you told didn't your friends or family die at the hands of the bandits? The people here are not complete fools. We have taken what we wanted from them. We should be moving on."
"We shall stay and drink the spoils of our great victory! Do not forget that I am Rom Baro!"
"We came here tonight to hope to convince you. I see now that that is not possible. The Chovihani will be convening a krisatora tomorrow night. We tried to warn you. Rodina je rodina." and with that, they left the man alone in his room to sulk for the evening.
The following night, the man's position among the travelers was revoked. He was still one of them, but no longer their leader. In the following weeks, the travelers and their caravans left the last to go almost a year to the day of their arrival. The man watched them disappear along the wooded trails leaving out of the valley from the parapets of what began to feel like a large empty prison.
The man and the woman left the keep the following year having made preparations and building a nice estate a little further down the valley. The keep was transformed into a place for storage and defense in case a time of troubles ever came to the little valley.
For the man, that time had arrived when his people left. That is not to say he wasn't happy. He had the beautiful woman in his life, and a nice new home for the two of them. He was still well respected in the village in the valley. Things were well, but a seed of doubt was planted within him by those he respected and cared for. And after planting said seed, they had left; perhaps to never return again.
However, that nagging hole was easily ignored and filled with a bright shining light when one morning while the man was looking to papers and books and such things, the woman came in and gave him news that filled him with such hope and joy. They were going to have a child. The man could barely contain himself and grabbed his wife lovingly and wept tears of joy.
Months later, a baby girl rushed screaming and crying strongly into the world. The man and the woman had a daughter named Agata. They cherished he greatly. Two years later, they had their first son Aleksander. The man remembered his family of travelers, but no longer viewed their passing as tearing out a part of him. Their leaving was what needed to happen to put him right here. Because right here with his two year old daughter and his new-born son was exactly where he was supposed to be. The people of the small town were his new family. They celebrated with the man and his beautiful wife (who had only become more beautiful and cherished by the people with time).
Again, there was much rejoicing. And yet again, stopping here would leave the story unfinished.
Until next time.
-L
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