With the holiday season in full swing, I had an idea for a holiday in Four Stars over Ardatz. This takes place three months before Uprooted (available where fine books are sold). Welcome to the world. May you enjoy, Festival of Stars.

A Full Inn

Hest inhaled deeply as he entered the dining hall, allowing the aromas of roast beef, baked potatoes… and was that corn? to refresh him after the long moonstep of work. Conversations bounced off the stone walls, along with a guffaw. The place was packed already—a good thing for Malene.

He maneuvered around the tables and greeted several locals until he found an empty spot that Malene wouldn’t mind him using.

“Hey, Hest,” Torrin called, balancing a tray of empty plates and reaching to wipe down the tabletop. “Mother has me helping clean up! Can you believe it? Haven’t been this busy since…” The boy scrubbed at a particularly sticky spot. “I guess since the last Festival of Stars.”

“That could very well explain the extra crowd.” Hest would have to dig out his few coins and see what he could get as a gift for the boy and his family.

With a wave of the dishcloth, Torrin hurried back to the kitchen, almost running into his sister who carried two bowls and picked up three mugs at the bar. Hest watched as she served the table, took an order, and slipped away from a stranger with overly friendly hands. Hest wanted to slap the man who was twice Maya’s seventeen rotations. Malene would have been furious if she’d seen it, but Maya had avoided offending the customer and continued back to the kitchen.

Hest settled back to wait his turn. As resident stable hand, he would be served after the paying customers. Torrin had returned three times and Maya five when the front door opened letting in a slight man with a long, slender leather case, along with his companion who carried a tube-like basket slung over one shoulder.

“Valter!” Someone called out.

“And Luu! Now we can get some dancing in,” his friend said.

“You mean stomping. I wouldn’t call what you do dancing.” The first laughed.

Several at a table near the open-hearth fireplace scooted their chairs around to the other side of the table so there was room for the musicians to set up. Those who’d been standing conversing in the open area stepped toward the walls to make room for a dance floor.

Among the commotion, Hest hadn’t seen Maya return. She smiled down at him. “What would you like?”

“I’ll take the roast and vegetables.” He glanced around. “Are they treating you well this step?”

She shrugged. “Most are in a giving mood, but there’s always someone who wants more than they’re willing to pay.”

“Your mother should be out here then, and not helping Wilma in—”

“Wilma’s sick, so mother had to fill in for her. That’s why Torrin’s doing half of my job.” Maya flipped a strand of blond hair over her shoulder, distracting Hest. “Well, I’ll go let Mother know your order. Anything to drink?”

“Would she let me have an ale?” He was thirsty, and Malene had some of the best ale in the area.

“I’ll see.” Maya grimaced. “You know Mother, though.”

“Well, if she won’t, I’ll take milk, I guess.”

What man drank milk with a meal? Then again, Malene probably still saw him as the little boy he’d been when she’d first taken him in when his parents had died of the fever. He pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the music, but the music was centered around the upcoming festival.

The Festival of the Stars had been his mother’s favorite celebration. At the beginning of every turn—twelve lunar cycles—when the moons were in their darkest phase, the village of Stad gave thanks for Handi and Tsiki’s guidance through the previous turn. Without the moons, there would be only minimal light by which to see, and the sparce foliage that allowed animals to graze would shrivel up and die. As a way of showing their gratitude, the villagers also exchanged gifts to those nearest and dearest to them.

Valter pressed down the keys of his cordophone and drew the bow along the strings, creating a high breathy note that fit the Ballad of Saarna, the First Star. It was during the Festival of Stars that Hest missed his parents the most. It’d been seven turns since he’d been orphaned, but the pain was as fresh this moonstep as it was when he stood by as they were laid into the ground. He placed his head in his hands, willing himself not to cry, but the tears stung as they pushed their way past his eyelids.

“Another round for us, Maya.” Oscar’s booming voice drew Hest’s attention.

“And maybe something more than just a stout.” Lucas draped an arm across her shoulders, his hand trailing through her hair. “What do you say, Maya?”

Hest rose to his feet, but Maya was faster. “Now, Lucas, why don’t you come back when you’ve not had anything to drink. Talk with my mother then.” She disentangled his fingers from her hair and smiled. “I’ll bring what you need, Oscar, and nothing more than that.”

With a nod, Oscar turned to Lucas. “Are you trying to get us kicked out? What were you thinking?”

“She’s a pretty girl, and Malene keeps her locked up here.” Lucas’s gaze hadn’t left Maya’s retreating form.

Hest wanted to pound a fist into the man’s nose. Maybe that’d wake him up. This was Maya! No one messed with her.

“And Malene’s the one you’ll have to talk to if you want to court her daughter.” Oscar lowered his voice.

After a few moments, Hest’s blood cooled, and he took his seat again. Did Lucas really think he could court Maya? As the girl returned with another try, Hest wondered about it. When he’d first moved into the stable, he and Maya had been no more than friends, maybe even siblings, but then somewhere about five turns ago, something had changed. She no longer had the same girlish form, and Hest had taken notice. But it was more than that. Her temperament had always been one of kindness—not just to her customers, but she’d never looked down on Hest as less than because he was an orphan.

He wasn’t quite sure when it’d happened, but he’d started dreaming of one moonstep asking her out for a drink and maybe eventually asking her to be his wife. The thought of someone else wanting the same thing had never crossed his mind.

Maya reappeared with a tray and wove around the tables and their occupants until she reached Oscar’s table. She deposited an ale and stout in front of Oscar and Mikael, but set a steaming mug in front of Lucas.

“On the house,” she said with a smile, then came to Hest’s table. “Here’s your meal.”

“Maya, you really shouldn’t have to put up with Lucas’s advances.” The thought of the other’s hands on Maya still made his blood boil.

“It was my fault for giving him the last stout. I should have known better. He’s never been one to be able to hold much drink.”

“Nevertheless, it’s not right.” Hest clenched a fist. “You deserve better, Maya.”

She stared at him for a few heartbeats, then glanced away. Heat rushed to Hest’s cheeks. Had he just said that?

“Thanks, Hest,” Maya said without looking up.

What had overcome him? Where had he gained the boldness to say something to Maya? And had she understood what he’d meant? She must have because she couldn’t look at him again. He pushed the circling thoughts aside and took a bite of the roast allowing the succulent flavors to distract his attention from the blond serving girl.

Luu tapped out a steady rhythm on his drum which those at the tables accented, while Valter called out, “Join in, you all know this song.”

The crowd obliged, and soon were singing a rowdy but sincere rendition of Handi’s First Light. Hest ate while his food was hot instead of singing along to the traditional Festival of the Stars song.

When the room had returned to conversation and Valter filled the silent spaces with other quieter festival songs, Maya returned with a foaming ale and placed it in front of Hest.

“Thank you,” she said, barely above a whisper, and then she was gone in a swish of skirts.

Hest gaped at the mug, then turned to catch a flash of blond hair disappear into the kitchen. He grinned as he took a sip. Maybe there was hope for him and Maya. After all, it was the Festival of Stars.

---