Work Text:
They were riding down through the mountains along the northern border of Mucha when Raki saw a plume of smoke rising in the distance, lonely against the clear blue of the sky and almost unbelievable after days with no glimpse of human life. It wasn't long before the smoke's origin came in sight – a small, brightly-painted cabin hidden in a narrow valley – and Isley called a halt on the ledge above.
“Watch the campsite and keep an eye on the horses,” he said. “They could do with a rest, and I'll be gone for some time.”
Raki nodded, not one for arguing, though he was weary of wilderness and in need of a rest himself. “You're going to talk to them?”
“We're low on supplies, and they may be willing to trade,” Isley said, looking down toward the cabin. “Will you be coming with me?”
That last, he spoke to Priscilla alone. She gave a quick shake of her head, and stepped closer to Raki instead, reaching up to close her small, warm hand around his wrist. They waited together on the rise, watching Isley descend to knock on the door of the small homestead and tarry inside for a time, as afternoon shadows lengthened. When he returned, it was with a canvas bag slung over one shoulder.
“Who lives there?” Raki asked.
“A young woman,” Isley said, casting a glance back towards the valley. “On her own now, and I suspect she'll have a hard year ahead, but she has the strength to survive it.”
Isley admired strength, Raki recalled, as he handed over the reins and took the bag Isley was holding in trade. Bread and dried fruit, he saw, and oats for the horses. All things they had needed, but not direly.
Isley smiled and added, “The gold I paid for that won't hurt.”
“Charity?” Raki said. I didn't think you had it in you, he almost said, but Isley's face was cold and stern in a way he seldom saw these days, and he felt the words die in his throat.
“Fair trade, or as close as I could offer,” Isley said, then started south again without another word, leaving Raki and Priscilla to follow on their own time or not at all.
Raki looked back towards the little valley as they left, and the cheerful house with smoke rising from the chimney, warm and inviting and looking so much like home. He felt uneasy. Something nagged at him, like an itch between his shoulderblades, but they were well on their way before it occurred to him what it was.
He had seen no young woman in the doorway. It had been a grey-haired elder who invited Isley inside.