Chapter 23 #3
“It’s strange,” Veru said. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to go to so much trouble.”
“I’ll tell ya why. If ya can manage ta weave the wool—and mind, it’s near as an impossible a task as gettin’ the beasties ta grow it in the first place—the fabric is the finest, strongest, and most beautiful you’ve ever seen.”
“Better than the silks of the Orient?” she asked.
“Better than dragon silk. Better even than phoenix leather.”
Danik raised his eyebrows and gave Veru a look. “How, um . . . how is it different?” he asked.
“Not only is it more beautiful, but once it’s sewn into clothing, it withstands flame like phoenix leather and also has the magical properties of dragon silk; then it also lends the wearer something else.”
“What is that?”
“It depends on the virgin and the flower. They combine to create something unique. It could be a scent so overwhelming that anyone seeing the person wearing the gown would fall at their feet, or it could be astonishing beauty, or the gift of great discernment. Like I said, it depends on the blend.”
“I see. And, umm, a final question. If I may.”
“Of course, lass,” the farmer replied.
“How do the sheep, er . . . tell?”
“How do they tell what? They don’t talk, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, good sir,” Danik said, interrupting. “I think she’s asking, how do the sheep know a virgin from a nonvirgin?”
“Ah!” The farmer touched his finger to his nose.
“Excellent question. They leaves them as nonvirgins alone, to be certain. It’s believed they can sniff them out, a bit like a hound dog.
I don’t know how it works. Not really. It must be within a certain age as well.
Turns off after a woman is past birthing age.
And they don’t bother children either. But there’s no camouflagin’ it.
Olfactory is what it is. Show them hair from the same person cut as a child and ya get nothing, but once they reach marryin’ age, the poor girl is downright discerpible. ”
“I see. Thank you so much for your help,” Veru said.
They left the farmer’s home and headed up the road. “No wonder Yuga wants the wool so badly. Where are we going to get that much hair?” Danik asked.
“Let’s not worry about that just yet,” Veru said. “Let’s find the knight first and let him know what we discovered. Maybe we’ll think of something.”
Danik nodded and Veru pulled the small mirror from her bag and checked her braid first, tugging on it to see how long it was and wondered how much of it she could cut off to feed to a sheep and if it would be enough to produce even one bag of wool.
Then she placed the mirror on the ground and said, “Take us to the hidden forest guarded by the Polden Knight.”
The mirror shimmered and boiled and grew, spreading out and lengthening until it became a bubbling river.
Trees erupted all around it, and the countryside surrounding them changed, turning and twisting.
The little farm disappeared, and in its place was a hidden pasture with a river surrounded by trees.
On a distant hill, the red knight sat upon his horse as he watched over hundreds of naked pink sheep, all of them crying baa as they jostled for position, trying to stay as close to the warm knight as possible.
Calling out, Danik waved, and the knight kicked the sides of his horse, galloping over to them. Veru bent, picking up the small mirror that had shrunk to normal size once again. She tucked it into her bag and offered the knight a smile.
“Hello!” he said. “That was fast.”
“I’m afraid what we learned isn’t going to help much,” Danik said.
“Tell me,” the knight replied, getting down from his horse. The sheep made their way over to the knight, basking in the warmth that naturally exuded from the man. They drank deeply from the stream and grazed while the people talked.
“The answer is hair,” Veru said. “Virgin hair and flowers. In great quantities, apparently.”
“Really? How fascinating.” He removed his helmet and ran his hand through his own lustrous red locks as he thought. “So they are to ingest it?”
“Apparently,” Danik said. “And then they’ll grow wool right away. We’ll need to shear it before the full moon; otherwise, it will all fall out.”
“That gives us”—the knight closed his eyes—“approximately one week.” He blew out his breath. “I suppose we’d better get busy, then.”
“Get busy?” Danik frowned. “I doubt we could shear all these animals in a week, let alone find that much hair and convince the virgins to give it up. Also, there’s a catch.
Once she has the wool and turns it into fabric, she’ll use it to make clothing, powerful clothing that I’m certain she’ll use to trap others. ”
“Yes. That is a conundrum. But first let’s see if this will work, then we’ll cross that bridge if we must.”
“Very well,” replied Veru. “Let’s go round up some virgins.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” the knight said, opening a hidden pocket in his cloak and pulling out a jeweled comb. Then he gestured at the two of them and winced. “I’m assuming, though, the two of you haven’t, umm . . . That is, you’re still . . . ?”
Veru frowned and folded her arms. “If you are asking if we . . . the answer there is no!”
The knight half smiled and nodded sheepishly.
“Then . . . perhaps . . .” The knight stepped forward, glancing at the two of them, then paused at seeing their confusion. He cleared his throat. “You see, it is often assumed that when the hair of a virgin is mentioned, it is meant that a woman’s hair would be required, but in actuality . . .”
Danik blinked and then caught Veru’s arm. “Then you should take mine. Hers is so beautiful. Please, leave it be.”
He approached the knight and turned around. Just as the knight lifted his arms, Veru spoke.
“Wait a minute! Danik, how do you know you’re a virgin? You can’t remember what happened before you arrived in this place.”
“Well, you didn’t volunteer, so I assumed—”
“You don’t get to assume anything. It’s none of your business”—Veru noticed the knight’s raised eyebrows and interested expression as he peeked over Danik’s shoulder—“or yours either,” she added angrily. “But, yes, I’m a virgin!”
“Good. Excellent,” the knight said. “Then this”—he held up his comb—“should work fine on both of you.”
“What will work?” Danik asked, glancing back.
“My comb. It’s how I keep my hair as nice as it is.”
“And how is your fancy-man hair supposed to help us?” Danik asked, tucking his own longish hair behind an ear, causing Veru to smirk.
“Just wait.” He turned back to Danik’s hair and began combing. Soon Danik’s blond hair began to grow. When it was at his waist, the knight lopped it off with a sword, dropping it on the ground. The sheep approached it, nibbled at it half-heartedly, and then soon it was gone.
“Umm, if I may, my dear?” He raised his hands, the one containing the comb, indicating he wanted to use it.
Though she was a bit uncomfortable with the idea of him touching her, she shrugged and turned around.
The knight loosened her braid and ran his fingers through her hair, stretching it out along her back so it fell in long waves, then he began to comb it, tugging gently through the knots until they untangled.
She bit her lip, then her thumbnail, wondering what was happening, and watched Danik’s expression change from one of irritated annoyance to one of awe.
“What?” she asked, demanding he explain what he was seeing. “What’s happening?”
“Your hair!” Danik exclaimed. “It’s growing. And quickly!”
“Of course it is,” the knight said. “My mistress gifted me the comb hoping it would aid me in cultivating the wool. Sadly, it doesn’t seem to work on the sheep.”
Within a few seconds, Veru’s hair was down to her knees, and the sheep were jostling one another, becoming extremely interested.
Some were even drooling. They bumped against her knees and baaed with open mouths.
Danik shoved several aside, but it was becoming more and more difficult to hold them back.
One of them managed to get a mouthful and yanked hard.
Veru screamed and fell and was trampled within the span of a few seconds.
Danik picked up animal after animal and tossed them aside, then grabbed Veru, and when he couldn’t free her from the biting, chewing beasts, he pulled out his trusty hunting knife.
With a quick slice, the long length of hair fell to the ground, where the entire herd trampled one another to get at it.
“How fascinating,” Danik said. “It’s a very different reaction than they had to my hair.”
Veru snickered. “Maybe you aren’t a virgin.”
“If he wasn’t, they wouldn’t have eaten it,” the knight said.
“Maybe they just like your soap,” he said, his warm breath a whisper that kissed the bare skin where her shorn hair tickled the back of her neck.
“I used the same soap you did. They probably just didn’t like the taste of a hunter,” Veru replied, but her comment didn’t have the bite it usually had.
In fact, she very much wanted a taste of the hunter who held her close in his arms. All she could think about in that moment was pressing her lips to the warm pulse beating in his neck and tracing a path from there to his jawline, feeling the scrape of his rough beard against her soft cheek until she made her way to his mouth.
Instead, she shivered, clinging to Danik, her arms wrapped around his neck.
She could still feel the demanding mouths gnawing at the back of her neck—the hunger, the tugging, the ripping.
She wanted to sink into him. To lose herself.
But Danik set her down a distance away and lightly touched her trembling shoulders, swiping away the fat tears on her cheeks.
Never had he seen the tsarevna look so vulnerable.
“Hold still,” he said. “Let me check the damage.”