Chapter V - In which I learn new tricks

I lined the body with the axe. The man was looking up at me - the fear and despair clear upon his face. I lifted my hands and brought the axe down.

It buried itself into the chopping block, splitting the log open. I picked up the pieces and placed them into the pile.

“You don’t have to lift your arms that high.” Jacob called out. “Splitting wood is about using the axe, not your strength.”

I lifted the axe free and placed another piece on the block. A taunting, defiant face appeared in front of me. I brought it down.

“Too much strength.”

I threw the pieces into the pile. Another log, another face. The axe cut it all open.

“Still too much.”

A log, a face, and a swing.

“Again, too much.”

A log, a face, and another swing.

“Too much.”

A log, face, and swing. A log, face, and swing. A log, face, and swing. Log, face and swing. Log, face and swing. Log, face and swing. Log, face, swing. Log, face, swing. Log, face, swing. Log, face and -

The axe buried itself partway. I shifted it free and swung again. “Why… does it matter?” I asked him. “The blocks... are being cut, aren’t they?”

“You’ll tire out faster.” He said. “You’re already out of breath.”

I placed the axe and swept the sweat from my forehead. “I am… unused to this, that’s all.”

Jacob held out his arm. “Give that to me for a while, will you?”

I handed it to him, and stood aside. He placed the log, and looked at me. “Watch.”

The axe went barely above his chest - a slow curve that gradually went faster and gradually disappeared into the wood. He brought it up again in one swift motion. Clean and simple, which I suppose was the point of it.

“Did you see it?” He asked.

“You must have a lot of practice.” I said.

“I did. But I also learned the right way of doing it.” His face was strangely expressionless. “Why don’t we stop for a while?” He placed the axe aside and walked away.

“”Jacob, what’s wrong?”

“It’ nothing…” He sighed. “I was just feeling tired, that’s all.” He looked at me for a long while, but said nothing.

“What is it?” I asked.

He sat down by the porch, and beckoned me over. “Before all this, I could easily live alone, Robin.” We had agreed to use the alias, in order to get used to the idea. “But now… without the money from your aunt, and feeding two people...”

“I am here, aren’t I?” I asked. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it. So what’s the problem?”

“The thing is… ” He took a deep breath, looked at me, and then paused. “Hmmm...” He nodded to himself. “No, you’re right…. It’s not a problem.” He smiled at me and dusted off his pants. “All we need to do is work hard.”

“That’s the spirit!” I rose beside him. “So, what do we do now?”

***

The answer to the question, if I am being entirely honest, was not to my liking. It involved farming tools I had never seen before (a shovel?), some kind of special dirt (manure?) and me getting really, really… well, dirty.

“I kind of feel sick, Jacob.”

“It’s just the soil, Robin. And I think you missed a spot over there.”

It was misery personified. Standing in the middle of a field, with the blistering sun upon your back, and simply digging away - there was no task more pointless. My body felt heavy; I could barely hold on to the shovel. “Jacob, I need a break!”

“You just had one.” He handed me the water. “Come on, here.” I tried to drink, but most of it missed the mouth and went down. Not that it helped. Everything was still blurry. “Time to get on with it, then.” I handed the water pail and got back to work.

Everything ached when I woke up. It felt being roasted over a slow fire - a painful burn that flared up whenever I moved. “Jacob, I don’t think I can till the fields today.”

Jacob was looking down at me, concerned. “You just fainted, Robin.”

“Oh.” I had an idea of what awaited me now, and how woefully naive I had been. “I don’t suppose you’d let me sleep until tomorrow?”

***

Jacob didn’t let me rest that day, or any of the days thereafter. I would labour all day, eat, fall down on the bed and rise to do more of the same. I don’t think I ever slept - I remember closing my eyes and it would be dawn the next second. I didn’t want to wake up, but I had to. I lost my temper several times - but Jacob would give me a sort of disappointed, judgemental look, say that he was sorry, I would feel guilty and apologize, he would apologize, and we would return back to routine.

The pain was constant, although it took many forms. Some days my body would ache all over. Sometimes it would be a sudden shocking jolt that would leave me wailing on the ground. Maybe it would be a deep, unrelenting tiredness. But of course, I had to get up and get to work. There was always something to be done, and obviously, I had to be the one to do it.

In the morning, I had to go to the spring to fetch the water to fill the big tank. That would take me about fifteen trips - carrying the small bucket back and forth until it was done. The water would be boiled, breakfast would be prepared, and I would eat and dread the drudgery that awaited me.

After breakfast, I had to check after the animals. Smoker needed water and food. Dreun needed hay and water, and sometimes you need to caress his mane if he was particularly fidgety. It was usually because the stable was dirty - which I had to clean up, of course. After him it was Nessun, the cow’s turn - who had to patted, fed, and milked, all without taking care not to spook her - if that happened, I had to calm her down by whispering in her ears. Then I had to take her outside and tie to a tree so she could graze. After which point I would have to check if the stall was dirty - and clean it if it was.

Last of all came the dreadful chickens. Monsters, each and every one of them. They had no names, but I learned to identify them soon enough. There was a stupid one - who would squawk like hell every time I approached to get the eggs. There was a gluttonous one - who would push all the others away to gorge on the feed by himself. There was a evil one - who would pretend to run away after I set it free, stop at a distance, and run away again when I chased it. And finally, there was the rooster - the one who would sit upon the perch and judge my every action. Every time I made a mistake, he would knock his head back and contemptuously crow at me. I hated that chicken, and I’ll be honest - I savoured every bite when I finally got to eat him.

After the creatures were taken care of, it was time for archery practice. First, it was hitting the targets at a distance. Ten arrows, hundred and fifty yards. Then I had to remove the arrows from the target, go back, and do it again for fifty yards. Then I had to remove the arrows from the target, go back, and do it again for hundred and sixty yards. The distance would keep on increasing until I missed all ten - after which I had to go search where the arrows had landed for next day’s practice.

Next was preparing wood for the winter. In the early days, all I had to do was split the smaller logs into kindling sizes. I became quite proficient at the task; Jacob upon noticing this, decided that it meant I was eager to do more. Now I had to pare down the whole trunk and prune the branches. When I succeeded at that as well, he added cutting down trees and bringing them back to the list of tasks.

I cut so much that we ended up fixing the house, made two new buckets, created two wheelbarrows, and even built a new shed (for storing the wood). We might have done more, but we ran out of nails. And I wasted quite a few of those learning carpentry.

Then it would be midday, and we’d have lunch, take a break… and then get back to work. Afternoon was the most strenuous activity in the beginning - I nearly fainted once or twice. But it became a quite a lot easier when the seeds were planted; all I had to do was water the fields evenly. That should have been the end of my work, but there would always be a chore or the other that I had take care of that dragged my time out.

By evening, I would have bathed, and returned to home, and collapsed by the chair. We’d talk a little - perhaps read a book, but most of the days I would just try to stay awake till dinner ( Jacob spared me from that, thankfully). Then I would sleep, and do it all over again.

That was the life I lead the first two months I came to the cottage. A busy one, with no time to think. I realized much later that it had to be completely intentional on his part. I was impatient and angry, eager for violence and vengeance. But without the time to brood over such thoughts, it gradually sunk to the depths of my mind and settled down there.

***