CHAPTER 291: MUCH NEEDED REST

There was no other way to describe it than being stabbed from the inside out. Irene’s lower stomach, lower back, and hips ached. No matter which way she tried to lie, there was no relief.

However, she couldn’t decide if she would rather be experiencing it all alone or amongst a bunch of men who could never understand what she went through each month and went to great lengths to hide.

There were times after Leif died when she felt low and wondered if he could tell she was a girl, far before he let on, because it was obvious when she was feeling grumpy or lacking energy. He was the one closest to her and probably understood her mood cycles better than anyone else.

At least during those times, she had someone there, while now she only had a horse who didn’t care whether or not she was in pain, only that she kept feeding him and whether or not they were going somewhere.

For an entire day, Irene’s only responsibilities became feeding herself and Sammy, as well as tending to the fire so she remained warm. Her mother always told her the most important thing she could do was to stay warm during these times.

When she dragged herself to the front door and opened it up, she was surprised to see heavy snow falling. The thick, wet snowflakes were making the top layer of snow heavy. She was sure that it would be icy when it cleared up again.

After that, she felt less guilty for deciding to stay inside for a couple of days as she recharged.

However, it also meant she was going to need to hunt and restock supplies as soon as she was able to get back out in the township and find a store, because she was eating away emergency supplies. The reality was that she might be hunting from that point forward for all of her meals, but there was a tiny hope that there would be preserved or dried fruits or vegetables. Grain and flour could be helpful as well.

On top of that, fodder was absolutely necessary because Sammy had to eat no matter what.

After lying around for all of the morning, Irene was starting to feel restless, despite her achiness, enough that she wanted to explore the house further to get a better glimpse of whoever stayed there before her. Perhaps there would even be useful supplies she could take, despite the guilt she felt over taking from someone who couldn’t give her permission.

She first went to the chests along the opposite wall from where her bed was. There was quite a lot of storage in this house, and she had to imagine quite a few people lived there when it was at its peak.

The girl felt that the cold itself was livable, but for all of the warriors to leave this place, there must have been something severe to force all of them away. Her grandmother’s prophetic dream at least saved her village, but there had to be a reason for all of these people to leave without so much as a trace or sign as to why.

The first chest contained men’s clothing. To her surprise, it was perfectly untouched, as if the owner of the clothing could return at any moment. However, she knew based on the dust and the way that the door had been practically sealed shut by weather that no one had been in there for a very long time.

The next contained towels of all sizes, stacked and organized. Again, they were perfectly kept. Whoever had made the chests was extremely skilled.

The third had cooking supplies, but the fourth piqued her interest.

Inside were a few books that seemed equally as preserved as everything else in there.

However, the further down she got inside the chest, the more she realized they were a bit damaged by water or something that was once wet that had long since dried. When she opened one of the books, she found the pages stuck together and the ink worn away, so she couldn’t even attempt to read what they were about.

The girl gasped when she got to the bottom and realized the damage was because of an ink well that had spilled.

"I knew the craftsman of these chests wouldn’t disappoint me," she muttered sarcastically.

Admittedly, it was a little bit sad that the items that could tell her about the people who once lived there were what was damaged.

Irene tried to put everything back exactly as it was before, even though there was a doubt that anyone else would ever come across those things again until she brought someone from her life in that direction.

Nearing the top of the chest, a gasp escaped her lips when one of the books fell open, and she realized it was a notebook because it was full of blank pages. She had been hoping to at least find paper to add to her own journal of sorts, but this was going to work out even better.

Considering it was towards the top of the pile, it was amongst the least damaged.

"What a beautiful book," she uttered, considering how beautifully it had been bound. The leather on the front cover was fine, and whatever had been painted on it before was long gone.

She then turned back towards the rest of the cabin, and her eyes scanned the place. There wasn’t much else to look through. She was hoping that there would be weapons to look at, but it was certain that the warrior race would have taken those sorts of things with them if they were going someplace out of danger.

"I promise to take care of this," she uttered to the room as if the ghosts of the past could respond to her. "I’ll bring this back to two people who came from this place. Perhaps you know of Arthur and Kara Litharion."

For the time being, she decided to warm up some more water and cook the last of her meat.

Once Irene and Sammy both had their fill of supper, Irene simply sat on the bed for a long time. Her eyes didn’t stray from the fire for long as she considered the coming days. Once she found some more supplies, she could set off for her father’s birthplace, which was a bit further north. The trip ahead would be a bit more intimidating, and the village would be much harder to spot than this large township.

As her thoughts wandered and her eyes occasionally took in the room, she finally noticed a wash bin hanging on the wall above the chests she had been exploring earlier. It had occurred to her that something was on the wall, but only far away did she realize what it was.

Considering how nicely built the chests were, she wondered if the wash bin still held water.

The only way to figure it out was to try it for herself. One thing she always wanted was to be submerged in hot water whenever she was in pain like that. It would suit her mood perfectly.

When she motivated herself enough to take it off the wall and make sure there wasn’t anything waiting for her inside, she saw the ring of dust left behind and was relieved to see that it was unlikely anything had made it inside.

As much as she hated to waste water, she already had a few pots of hot water that had once been snow. It wouldn’t take long to heat up more water if she used one of the bigger pots in the chest.

With a bit of effort, Irene had herself an entire bath ready to soak in under an hour.

As she disrobed and sat down in the water that went up to her waist, she was pleased with the hard work. It would make it easier to sleep and help ease her pains at least a little bit. It was her first bath in nearly a month. Even in the war, she didn’t go that long without at least dumping water over herself.

Feeling homesick, the girl had dropped a few drops of the lilac oil into the water that she used to tame her hair and braid it so that it wouldn’t get in her way. However, at that moment, she was going to wash herself from head to toe and go to bed only after her hair was dried so that she wouldn’t get cold in the night if the fire decided to go out for whatever reason.

After a bath where she thoroughly washed herself, then dumped the water outside, sure to avoid the places she would have to walk so she wouldn’t fall on ice, she was relaxed and nice and warm. All she could do was go to sleep after feeding and watering Sammy one more time.

How tired she already was made it easy to roll over and fall asleep after a quick entry about how she had to take a rest that day. The entry was short and sweet. It was all she had the motivation for at that moment.

When the girl woke up the following day, still aching just slightly and not nearly as bad as the day before, she was ready to take on the town for one more day.

She was determined to find some useful supplies even if she had to shatter windows or cut down doors with her axe.