Rose sets her bag aside and lifting her skirts over her ankles, climbs up on the edge of the fountain to sit down. After arranging her skirts neatly, she looks at Cuthberd. "They'll be fine, we have to have faith in that," she says, her voice holding a trace of uncertainty despite her encouraging words.
Cuthberd looks around the square, not meeting her eyes, his expression bleak. "If Ceolfred goes and gets m' son hurt an' I'll kill 'im myself," he mutters.
"Don't be speaking nonsense. The man's no more going to get that boy hurt than I would take my dress off and swim in this fountain. He cares for you and your boy a great deal."
"Th' boy's all I got left, ev'n if he's got his head in th' clouds." Cuthberd hrumphs quietly.
"You've got more left than him, if you'd care to see it. Your health," she lifts a hand before Cuthberd can protest, "You lost a leg, not your life. So, your health. Your son, his girl. You've made friends of the Lady Zandrianna and Merry. That child Althessia has taken a shine to you. You've got your wits about you and manners, when you're of a mind to trot them out, and ..." she catches herself and shakes her head. "Well you've got a full head of hair, which some men seem to see as a benefit. Why it matters so much, well I don't know and that's truth."
Cuthberd looks at her incredulous, and then snorts a laugh. "You'd tell a drownin' man t' buck up, sayin' at least he ain't thirsty, wouldn't ya?" He turns the hat on his head. "And he's got hair."
“And would you rather me say that or say things are horrible? Because truth is, anything is only what you make of it - life, work, friends, family …”
Cuthberd shakes his head a bit and opens his mouth to protest... but then thinks better of it and shrugs. "Mebbe," he says, in a tone of voice that clearly indicates he disagrees but doesn't feel like arguing. "Whatdya say we head back so you can get t' cookin'?"
"I could have locked myself from the world after Gillis died - almost did. And after my son's ... after he were gone, I felt like the fates merely hated me. But it weren't getting anything done, expect to make me miserable." Rose turns and watches the water ripple, then stands and reaches for her bag again. "We can do that," she says, and looks him over. "Imagine you're hungry about now."
Cuthberd looks as if he's about to respond to her confession, but then shakes his head.. "Jus' want t' get home an' get m' leg up."
"I believe I have a couple of slices of pie left from when Bonnie came by. Bilberry, if you'd like some after the supper?"
"I could do with a slice o' pie," he allows.
Cuthberd heaves himself to his feet - foot - and puts the crutch back under his arm. They walk together in silence before he speaks up again. "Ya never said much 'bout yer son. I know what its like, havin' a child disappoint. Look at Rastellion... can't settle down an' do honest farmin', now he's got himself in trouble with the law an', what's worse, run off after that girl."
Rose, seeing Cuthberd is having troubles walking, looks up at the sky for a moment then motions towards the nearby benches. "At least your son's trying to make a living for himself, and you. Mine ..." she shakes her head, her eyes filled with quiet pain.
"Seems like th' Watch don't think it's so honest," he replies with a shake of his head. "All this talk 'bout papers an' deeds. Jus' complicatin' things up as ought t' be simple. Lawyers tryin' to confuse folk, be like."
"I'm not one to be second guessing the Watch, but I suspect there's more than what they've been told of things. And certainly with the deed to that girl's farm." Rose sets the market bag down as she sits on the bench and smooths out her skirts. "I've only met your boy a couple of times, but he's an honest sort."
"Aye, I'll give him that. I didn't bring him up t' be no liar nor sneak."
"You did good by him, and that's truth. I thought I'd done the same, with my boy ..." she pauses, looking down at her hands. "Well, I've beat myself enough wondering where I did wrong and I've still no answers to that particular question."
Cuthberd nods sagely. "Was lettin' him run about wit' town lads, I warrant. Rapscallions wit' more time on their hands than sense in their heads."
"Whatever it was, I lost a lot more than my son when he died. The debt he left me in, the mill in disrepair. I should have never let him have control, but he insisted he was ready. If it weren't for your son, I'd be begging coins off the street and that's truth." She looks over at Cuthberd. "You should be happy he turned out, he's a much better man than most of the self proclaimed heroes that drink down at the tavern nowadays."
"Eh,” Cuthberd snorts. “well, that's nice o' you t' say, but ain't much more a compliment, from what I've seen, than sayin' he's a better man than a bunch o' dogs squabblin' over a bone." He shakes his head. "Don' know what he sees in town life. What's it got better than honest work wit' a man's hands, in good soil, under th' sun an' rain. That's somethin' you can count on. An' got somethin' t' show fer your work."
"Well and I'll not disagree that setting down to farming isn't good work. Just like the milling or being a seamstress. But Rastellion, from what Zandrianna has told me, he's got a keen sense of coin and trading. Something that may not be as tangible to us, but no less honest or good. Give him a chance, and while you are there's plenty at the mill to keep a few men busy."
"Mill-work ain't bad. He seems interested. Mebbe can get him workin' there....that'snot be so bad. I did a bit o' that myself as a lad." Cuthberd says in frustration.
"Well and if Rastellion wants to try his hand at milling then he will I imagine. You've a bit of experience to help him out. And I know enough from my Gillis to help out where I can. The mill was once quite successful."
"Aye, an' that I can see as bein' proper work. Not this" - he waves at the buildings - "this tradin', where yer not makin' nor growin' nor buildin, just movin' things from place t' place. How can there be coin in that? How's it not a cheat?"
Rose smiles at this and turns to look around. "When you grew your crops, did you just set them in the field picked and expect they'd be sold? Or did you travel them to market and sell them?"
"Nah, that's different. I had somethin' real I was sellin'. Rastellion tried t' explain what he does t' me once - well, he was talkin' t' Ceol. Stuff bout how he's transferin' ownershp but not goods, or buyin' things as ain't bought yet an' sellin' them to folk before they're even harvested." He shakes his head. "All words an' make-believe an' nothin in yer hand."
"He was ... ahhh. Trading towards things in the future. Well and that's no different than hiring a seamstress to make a dress, or hiring a carpenter to come build shelves. You buy something, not yet made, and then get the something when it is finished being made."
"But tha's not it at all,” Cuthberd frowns stubbornly. “'Cause he never has somethin', never gets it. Just passes it back an' forth an somehow he's got money at th' end of it. ... Makes no sense t' me."
"I believe what you're saying,” she says, trying to puzzle it out herself, “is that he makes it possible for others to get their wares to the right buyers. His work isn't to buy and sell but make sure sellers and buyers find each other. I don't rightly know the whole ins and outs of the trading myself, all I know is it's better and more honest than stealing someone's purse or swinging a sword for coin."
"Aye mebbe,” Cuthberd chuckles dryly in reply, “but that's like the comparison to those 'heroes'. Damned by faint praise, as they say." He sighs. "I dunno. I can' make sense of it. One of these city things, though up where folk's've got more time than sense."
"Well, your boy has both." She looks off into the distance, a line of worry creasing her forehead. "I just hope he has enough, all of them, to come back in one piece. I didn't care for the bit that Zandrianna told me, and I know she was holding a lot back." She shakes her head to rid herself of the troubling thought and turns to Cuthberd. "When we get back to the mill, let see that old hat of yours, I'll see it properly cleaned and mended myself. Give me something to do after chores and while the roast is cooking tomorrow. That, and that baby of course."
Cuthberd lets a slight smile curve his dour expression. "You do keep yerself busy, Miss Rose. The young men about town could learn a thing or two from you about work."
Rose rolls her eyes, but returns the smile. "Well and someone should teach them how to do something more than drink ale and piss in the fountains. My father always said if something needs doing, just do it and be done with it. He was right, and it's good words to stand by."
Cuthberd nods. "Now that's sensible talk."
((Big thanks go to Rastellion, who also does the voice of Cuthberd (Rastellion's father), a character that I absolutely adore. As always, hugs, kisses, and lots of love to him.))
