#ziua 11

ziua 11: pribeag prin Moldova (wonderer through Moldavia) || zapada/frig (snow/cold)

The cold chipped his lips and hardened his cheeks. The wind ruffled his tunic and the cold entered his bones. Vlad tugged at its cuffs in an attempt to bring himself some warmth. In vain. Forced to leave his home with just the clothes on him, the Basarab prince cursed the harsh weather under his breath.

Vlad wondered lost the mountain villages. His hair tangled like the dry twigs in birds' nests, his body covered in a crust of dust and dirt. The pride enabled in his mind by the noble state of his birth weeped for days. For, with not a money on him and his face broadely known, he had no means to earn a pay. Other than roaming from place to place and living off scrapes good people handed him.

The nights found him hugged in the ripped cloak – such a fine work when it was still carefully cared for by servants. Now a relict of former glory. Like its owner, Vlad thought bitterly.

Sometimes, he laid under the moonlight, surrounded by trees and lulled to sleep by the sound of running rivers. Other times, he had to stop on the road. When the legs gave in and his stomach growled. He'd sit outside an inn and wait for stranger's mercy. And he'd die a little inside every time.

Walking and walking on days with no end, Vlad passed the borders of his land. He noticed the change in patterns on villagers blouses. The lightly nasal speaking with its lazy vowles and pronounced consonants. And, of course, the rich monasteries, looming over the life of moldavian people.

A thought lingered but a moment: to search his cousin, seek his help. It was gone as it came. For how could he show to Ștefan's doorsteps looking like a begger? Vlad shook his head to himself and kept going as of before. Througu woods and forests, villages and boroughs, surviving harder and harder each passing winter day.

When the northern winds brought the first snow, Vlad still refused to ask his cousing for help. He stubbornly camped in a lower clearing, head resting on thick roots sprawling and twirling above ground, stealing as much heat from the fire he build. When he noticed the strange numbness in his limbs, he rushed to the nearest house – a shephard's home – and was lended a woolen coat.

However, it was not enough. And soon, the tips of his fingers blackened of cold and his eyelids fluttered shut more often than not. It was as such that Ștefan voievode came to find him.

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Vlad opened his eyes to familiar paintings spreaded over a stone ceiling. A wave of panic awoke his mind and the man jumped from the bed in search of a threat and a weapon.

To his left, a mild snicker. "Peace, cousin. You are safe."

Vlad groaned. His shoulders slumped forward and he turned to face the oh so pios voievode. "Ștefan," he greeted. "I thought guests surprise their host with a visit, not the other way around."

"Ah, good to see the cold had not stripped you of your delightful spirit, Vlade. Welcome to my modest home. Do not shy from asking after anything you need." Ștefan took in Vlad's appearance, noticing not for the first time his ragged clothes and bruised skin. "Anything at all," he pointidely completed his statement.

When Ștefan found Vlad, the poor lord was covered in snow. His lips were blue or purple when deprived of light, his face red as the dying flames near him were supposed to be. One of the billagers saw him and reported to the living saint, who set off willimg to bring the ill-fated man to his home. Great was his astonishment upon discovering his near frozen to death cousin. Now, Vlad look much better. Though winter left its mark on him, at least he didn't loom half dead anymore.

"Serioulsy," Ștefan grew annoyed by the silence. "Just ask, cousin, and you shall recieve."

Grinding his teeth, seethed embarrased without measure, Vlad mumbled something about needing a shift of clothes.

Ștefan smirked pleased, but didn't move from his seat. Amused, he mused: "I'm sorry, Vlad, my dear, I must've miss it. What did you say?"

"You had me brought here to laugh at my expanse, then. Cousin?"

Ștefan rolled his eyes. "You need to relax more. Keep on like that and you'll have grey hair and wrinkles before me." He paused, walked to the door and opened it widely. "I brought you here because you were in my country, killing yourself slowly with yout pride and stubborness. And I could not have had it with good faith."

Vlad let one eyebrow slide upward as his features fell in an incredulous expression and enhanced his voice mockingly. "Of course, how dare I forgot, your holliness, oh, the kind one. Who wouldn't let a soul unsheltered, unconsoled, who seek salvation for all."

Ștefan would have answered if not right then a short woman tailed by two younger maidens rushed in. The woman carried on her arms a pair of pants, a tunic and a wool cape. One of the maiden behind brought a pair of boots and woolen socks, the other, soap and buckets of steeming water.

They folded the clothes on the bed, prepared the bath and left. An hour and a half later, Vlad felt like a new man. Clean, dressed and warm, now all he wanted more could only be a cup of tea and food.

"You're farring better, I see," Ștefan said from the same spot Vlad left him when he went to bath.

"And you're a better sain than voievode if you waited for me here instead of tending to your country."

"My country is well, dear cousin. And it can excuse one day of mine as I take care of my family. How do the clothes fit you?"

"Fine."

"Really?" Ștefan sat up and walked towards Vlad. "I would have said they look rather tight on you. But worry not, it shall be quickly fixed and you'll be ready to attend the feast in your honor."

And before Vlad could even think of protesting, the same three women as before rushed inside. This time, the younger ones carried a basket of clews, each with a needle stuck inside. The older woman drew a thread and shoved it in Vlad's* mouth before spitting on her fingers, rolling the end of clew between them and passing it through the needle.

The woman then proceeded to peel and sew, as Vlad was silenced by the thread between his lips, much to Ștefan's amusement. When the ordeal was finally over, the two men left for dinner, poking fun at each other to hide the joy of seeing each other again.

@vladbruarie