Poludnica

“Gods never sleep... Spirits don’t rest...” Dragomir’s mind raced.

“Welp, but even if you do know the condition…” Veles patted the cow on the back. “There is nothing you can do to stop that.”

“You’re wrong. As long as I am alive, I have infinite chances to try.”

The god hopped off the cow, picked up a pitchfork, and tossed some hay into its trough. “Your girl is very level-headed despite appearances.”

Dragomir immediately sprang up, snatched up another pitchfork and stopped its prongs inches from Veles’ throat. The bohatier’s pupils shrank to tiny black dots. “What did you do?”

Veles tilted his head back and smiled. “Oh, I wonder…” he said in that unbearable tone of his.

“You know what? Maybe I should take Perun up for his offer.” He pressed one of the prongs against Veles’ neck, but it was still too blunt to break the skin.

“Calm down, Drago.” He pushed the tool away, his white glove still without a single speck of dirt. “She’s apparently smarter than you. But I’ll get it one day.”

Dragomir put down the pitchfork and pointed a warning finger at him. “If you go near her again, I’ll have no mercy.”

“Shhh!” Veles put a finger on his lips. “Someone’s coming!” And then he disintegrated.

“Hey, Debilmir?” Zduhach approached him. “Why are you talking so aggressively to a cow?”

Dragomir breathed in and out slowly. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. My mother always said I had to eat a lot and sleep a lot to get stronger. But I’ve had to eat twice as much because I never get to sleep.”

“Wait, what?”

“You asked whether I am able to sleep, didn’t you?”

So that pretty much confirms it. Sleep is the cause. And Zduhach is not human.

“Tell me… What are you?”

“Huh? I am me. What should I be?”

“What does it mean that your mother was a weaver?”

“Well, her job was to make clothes and other cool stuff. She made this quiver for me.” He pointed at his back with a thumb.

“I know what a weaver is, but… Never mind. Who is your father?”

“I never knew my father.”

So even if I asked him, he wouldn’t know… And it doesn’t really matter anyway.

“It’s okay, sorry for asking such personal questions.” Dragomir lay back down on the heap of straw. “Why did you come here?”

“Oh, I… uh… Milena’s been pretty nervous. And it feels weird to be in that room with her alone while she tries to sleep, so… Maybe we could switch places?”

“No way. You saw her reaction.”

“In that case, I’ll just go train with my arrows…”

“But what about M-“

“Don’t worry! Once I am done I will keep watch at her door.”

Dragomir looked at Zduhach and smiled. “Thanks.”

***

Dragomir drifted slowly toward consciousness. First came the sound of his own snoring. Then the strange realization that his foot was wet. Then he felt it again. Something warm, rough, and fleshy dragged across his sole.

He opened his eyes and found a cow licking him.

“Hey… thanks for the morning bath.” The sun was already high outside. “Damn, just how long did I sleep…”

He put on his boots and strode towards Milena’s room. Zduhach was sitting in front of it, his back against the door.

“Is she okay?”

“Milena?” Zduhach knocked on the door above his head.

“Please don’t come in,” she answered.

“Can you come out then?”

“I want to be left alone for now.”

“See?” Zduhach shrugged. “I explained everything you told me about, but now she’s even more confused.”

Dragomir sighed. “It’s probably safe to leave her here. Let’s investigate.”

“The table?”

“It’s not going to be so easy. Something’s off.”

***

When the two of them walked down the stairs, the tavern was already full of hungry people.

“So where are we going to find the table?” Zduhach whispered as they moved among the occupied chairs that almost touched each other.

“The table’s behind that door.” Dragomir gestured with his head at the room from which the bartender brought the food.

“What? Then let’s take it!”

“We can’t. I’ll have to confirm something first.”

***

The two of them reached the fields and stopped at the ‘Keep Out’ sign.

“What do you know about working in the fields, Zduhach?”

“Hmmm… people take seeds… bury them in the soil. Then water them. And the stuff that we eat grows?”

“Would you be able to talk about it for sixty minutes?”

“I explained it in like six seconds, so I can do something else in those sixty minutes!”

“Do you know anything else about the fields of Yav?”

“Nope, can’t say I do!” Zduhach tilted his chin up as if he was proud of that.

“I would stay away from those fields, young men.”

An older villager stood a few paces behind them. A worn iron sickle hung from his belt, its wooden handle polished smooth from years of use. Gray had begun to creep into his short, tightly curled brown hair. His eyes remained fixed on the empty fields.

Dragomir’s breath caught. For just a moment, his gaze lingered on the old man. “You say that and yet you look like you are ready to work.”

“This village has forgotten how to grow its own food. And it’s all because of that accursed bohatier! If only I knew his face…!”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“I’m here to avenge my son.”

“What happened to your son, old man?” Zduhach held his breath.

“She took him.”

“Who is she?” Zduhach frowned.

The man grabbed his sickle. “Poludnica,” he growled.

So he thinks that Poludnica is responsible… Nothing else probably made sense to him.

“You shouldn’t fight what you don’t understand, old man.” Dragomir gently pushed down the hand holding the sickle. “Go home… and forget about old grudges.”

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” The villager pointed the sickle at them. “You should leave. She’ll be here any minute.”

“How can you tell?” Zduhach narrowed his eyes.

“I can’t. I hope. I’ve been lurking around the fields for three hours now.”

“But it’s still too early for Poludnica to appear. They usually roam the fields when the sun is highest.”

“This one is special. Because we Arkonans are… special.” The villager tightened his grip on the sickle. “She’s here.”

A female figure drifted slowly over the fields. Her hair was muddy, as if she had just emerged from the damp soil. Sunlight glinted off the golden sickle in her hand.

“Is that chick Poludnica?” Zduhach pointed at her.

“You never heard of the Field Spirit?” the villager asked. “Everybody knows, because everybody lives close to fields.”

“Nope, there were no such spirits in my hometown and we were surrounded by fields!”

Dragomir narrowed his eyes.

“Well, young men, enough blabbering. I have some work to do.”

The villager sprang towards the field, chasing after the spirit.

“Don’t go!” Dragomir reached after him but then stopped due to the commotion to his side. To his surprise, even more villagers, though only the elder ones, rushed toward the field with pitchforks, sickles and shovels.

“Look at them go!” Zduhach watched them run towards her. “What does this Poludnica chick do?”

“She’s a dangerous kind that usually punishes people who work in the fields at the forbidden hour. From noon until one. But… I never heard of one appearing this early.”

“Isn’t that bad? We should help them!” Zduhach grabbed his bow from his back.

“Wait.” Dragomir gestured with his hand.

And so the two of them watched the villagers desperately hunt the spirit. One man hurled a shovel at her, but she gracefully slipped aside, her long dress billowing behind her. Another man swung his sickle in front of him as she came face to face with him.

“I think I get it. They are not working in the field. So she has no reason to attack them.”

The struggle went on for almost an hour. Dust rose from the field and swirled around her. By the time it settled, Poludnica was gone.

Dragomir and Zduhach sat near the warning sign. All nine villagers returned and passed by them in silence, dirt on their faces and their tools hanging uselessly at their sides.

“Hey!” Dragomir called out. The man from earlier was the only one who stopped. “Tell me… how long have you been doing this?”

The man turned around. “For years…”

Dragomir stood up. “Wanna grab a bite and talk a little?”

The villager sighed. “I guess I have nothing important to do until she comes back...”

“Let’s go to the tavern and-“

“No! I’m not going to that place. You two can come over to my house.”

Dragomir hesitated for a bit. “Y-you know, we probably shouldn’t-“

“Got any good stew?” Zduhach’s eyes almost sparkled.

“Yes… I can arrange that.”

Chapter 9: END