Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (the rosie project .txt) 📕

joy and injury what had taken place the night before. “Krell hates me now, positively loathes me! I’m certain of it.”

“Do you feel the same?”

“Yes! No! Aw, Mother’s mercy, Firman. I don’t know top from bottom right now. I have never wanted and abhorred someone so badly in all my life.” Firman pulled her into a hug. No phase was needed to know his intentions. There was genuine concern, friendship, and sincerity behind this giant man and his comical grin.

“You two have it bad for each other, don’t you?”

“Just because we did what we did doesn’t mean we love each other.”

“Two Kimshees making physical love? I know enough about Taelach customs to know what goes on, and that just doesn’t happen.” He kissed her forehead then held her at arm’s length. “Jolly and Trishvor will like you.”

“And they are?”

“Krell’s and my brothers of course.” The Autlach released his hold and strode to his worktable. “Be patient with Krell. Things will work out.”

“I doubt it. We can barely be in the same room together.”

“That’ll pass.” Firman winked at her. “Wait and see.” He waved her toward the door. “Time you got into character and made your way around front, but take your time about it. Give me a chance to get up front before you appear. A woman in the Hiring Hall line’s going to cause a stir.” Firman let the door smack LaRenna’s rear the third time.

Alone again and becoming oddly used to it, LaRenna circled the hall, stopping where the alley and narrow stone street came together. The line leading into the hall was immense, stretching from the entrance to cross several adjacent storefronts. The owners of those shops complained about the blockage, but it did little good in a time when so many were searching for employment. LaRenna took a spot at the end of the line and tried to be patient. Heads turned her way—eager, dark-faced leers followed by the low rumble of voices. One impudent older man in well-worn coveralls and heavy boots stepped out of line to approach her.

“Need work?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Can’t your man take care of you?”

“I don’t have a man.” The last word rolled off her tongue with particular distaste. Autlach society treated its women as helpless creatures, incapable of independence or thought. Sadly, the majority of Autlach females believed it to be true, a fact that disheartened the equality-minded Taelach.

“No man?” The older man laughed uproariously. “The likes of you? No man?” His whistle gained the attention of the dwindling few unaware of LaRenna’s presence. “Lookee here! She’s searching for work. Says she doesn’t have a man to keep her!”

“What is she,” yelled someone near the head of the line, “one of them snow-headed witches?”

“She’s no Taelach. This one’s Autlach through and through.” He whistled again, this time directing it toward LaRenna. “And what a woman she is.”

All movement had ceased in that section of the Commons. LaRenna, thrown off guard, closed her eyes for a brief moment, wishing she were somewhere, anywhere else but there. Firman had warned she would make a scene, but she hadn’t imagined this. Several more whistles and select lewd comments were thrown her direction, adding to her anxiety.

“Over here!”

“I’ll put you to work!”

LaRenna opened her Autlach eyes and forced an amused expression on her face. If she couldn’t pull this off, fooling two of her own kind would be impossible. “Why, gentlemen,” she purred, tailoring her accent to the regional dialect. “What would I want with a man who doesn’t have work? I’d be no better off than I am now.”

The cocky Autlach slapped his knee in a resounding laugh. “She’s got us there. This one’s witty, she is.” Every male in the crowd roared their agreement. Several women shopping in the area left disgusted, visioning what kind of work a woman could hope to find at the Hiring Hall and what she would have to do to gain it. The man choked off his laugh and took a step closer, something approaching greed shimmering in his eyes. “Seriously girl, why you here?”

“Work.”

“Mean it, don’t you?” His sun-creased face wavered from humored to suggestive while maintaining its smile. “I know an easy way for someone of your looks to make a bundle.” Several men winked at each other while still others began fumbling in their belt pouches.

“I know what you’re getting at,” replied LaRenna. “And I am far out of the price range of the unemployed.”

“Miss a few meals,” squeaked an elderly male voice, “and you’ll do it for almost nothing!” The crowd burst with laughter again and began to throw an increasingly vulgar display her direction.

“What’s going on?” Firman Middle filled the main door of the Hiring Hall. LaRenna hadn’t realized that while a good two heads shy of Krell’s height, he was far broader in the shoulder. “I’m running a business, not a gambling hut.” He looked directly at LaRenna. “Or a brothel. If you men want to work, get in line and shut up. Woman, go sell yourself elsewhere. You’re disrupting my day.”

LaRenna pushed out of her place in line. “I came for work, just like the others.” Their dialogue had been carefully scripted to gain her entrance.

“You’ve got a live one here, Hallmaster Middle!” shouted one of the waiting men.

“I see that,” replied Firman, his thumbs looping his wide belt as he sauntered to where LaRenna stood. “Want work, do you?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t come easy these days.” His expansive fingers twisted into her hair, the touch reminding him how much finer Taelach hair tended to be compared to Autlach. “Everyone here needs work. What makes you so special, besides the obvious?”

“I’m good at what I do.”

“That so?” Firman pulled her head back until it was directly under his then gave her the slightest wink of assurance. “And what work do you do, woman?”

“Whatever pays the most.”

“Really?” Firman gave those closest his most enlightened smile. “And just what would you do to get work? The hall doesn’t generally provide employment leads to women.