My eyes simply refused to wander away from the knife in that woman's hands. I kept staring at it, at how she held it - against her chest with both hands, in a firm white-knuckled grip - like a prized possession she didn't want me to have... and I thought maybe she didn't mean to use it, maybe she only wanted to keep it away from me.
I managed to raise my eyes and look at her. I could swear she was on the verge of tears. I relaxed, stood up straight and tried the most harmless smile I could produce.
"My name is Gayan. I apologise for scaring you."
She looked frightened but the fear frozen on her face slowly gave way to confusion.
"What are you doing with my dress?" She was slowly gaining back control over her breath.
Her dress? I looked at the robe in my hand and realised what she was talking about.
"Oh, I'm sorry about that. I was looking for something to hide my own clothes, you see..."
It was awkward. I could not defend myself. I could not explain anything happening without looking like a vagrant. I looked very suspicious already and I began thinking what if somebody else sees this standoff.
"Look, let's go inside-"
"Please, go away!" she said, her voice shaking, "Please."
She wasn't crying but she would soon unless I did something.
I could run but then people would be hunting me. I already had the robe so I could disguise myself but if it's women's clothes, it might look even more odd.
With no other choice, I decided to try the power Manusha gave me. But how?
Is there a secret button, somewhere? A phrase I have to say, like an incantation? Can I only do it under certain conditions?
Seeing my hesitation, the woman began backing away towards the back door leading into the house.
"No, hold on," I said and I looked into her eyes. For an instant, she was all I could see. Everything else but blurs of vague shapes and colours.
She was an adorable woman, frightened but holding firm.
"Put the knife down," my voice reverberating into my own ears, "and listen to me."
We remained there for what seemed like minutes and when the reverberances of my words died down, the woman shook her head, as if she was waking up from a trance.
She hesitantly put the knife down back on the table, faced me, slowly crossed her arms in front of her and remained not closer than two arm-span from me.
"Fine, I'm listening," she said.
Wait. It worked?
"My name is Gayan... and... and..." I kept thinking of something to say but resigned to tell her the truth, "I think I'm lost."
"OK," she said, her gaze dropping to the robe in my hand.
I needed to show that I truly didn't mean any harm.
I turned my back to her and put the robe - her dress - back on the clothesline. It was risky but I trusted my judgement of her. I lingered and thought she would at least run back to her house but after a few minutes, I turned around and she was still there.
I looked at her and pleaded, "I need help, lady."
Finally she dropped her arms to her sides. "Fine," she muttered under her breath.
"Wait here," she said before going inside. She left her door open so I figured she intended on coming back. After half a minute, I walked into her house.
I entered the kitchen. The table was too big for the room. The walls had been mortared but barely. The ground was old wood that had started to rot. So did a part of the ceiling that looked like it leaked during heavy downpours. Dirty dishes sat in a bucket of water on a wooden counter, the clean ones were drying in a washing basin. On the other side of the table, strings of beads hung down from a doorway. They parted as the woman was coming back, stuffing bread and rags into a cloth bag. She stopped when she saw me and shoved the bag my way.
"Take this and go away, please," she said, as if in a hurry.
I gratefully accepted and walked back the way I came in.
I hid in the high bushes between the house and the stream and looked at what the lady gave me. There was bread and a long and puffy coat. I removed my suit coat and wore the one in the bag and I immediately looked less conspicuous. It was getting darker but the sun still lingered in the sky. I figured this meant we were in summer.
I began laying out an action plan.
First thing, I will need a place to stay. I could return to the house with the cute lady but I doubt there would be enough space. Maybe there's a inn somewhere. Or maybe I could convince someone to house me using the power I used on the cute lady.
Next I would need money to maintain myself, more clothes for change, a means of transportation or at least knowledge of the roads.
My phone still had battery but with no coverage, it was useless.
I walked around a bit and found out that there was no inn at the hamlet. No nothing. Just houses and more poultry than people.
The Sun shone less brightly in the sky and we were entering the later part of the afternoon. Before it gets too dark to walk, I decided to try my luck at the next hamlet. Maybe there'll be an inn. Or anything.
As I took the road and walked away from the hamlet, I saw a group of men surrounded by the children of the hamlet coming the other way. Big burly men, most of whom were bigger than me. Some carried big and heavy fur packs on their shoulders and some were carrying the kids on their backs or seated on top of their head. They were all laughing and talking loudly. Behind them, a donkey drew a cart filled with chests and what looked like weapons. Spears and shields.
Was this a war party coming back home? Would they stop me?
I was already on the road and going back to the hamlet would have looked suspicious. I kept on walking and looked at the ground as we approached each other.
As they approached, they actually left some space for me to walk through. I grew more confident and my steps steadier. I was almost past the group when a voice called from behind me.
"Hey, you!" it said.
I paid no heed and kept walking but without changing anything in my pace. I was pretending it wasn't talking to me.
Then a very firm hand came and gripped my right arm, yanking me back and the next words were delivered with anger.
"I'm talking to you," it said.
I looked at who it was - this man was one of the largest in the group. He had blonde hair that covered his ears held back with band. His blonde beard framed his face with a thin golden border. He still had creases on his cheeks from laughing but his eyes burned with bitter anger.
"Who are you?" he said, his grip still firmly on my arm.
I was a little confused as to why he cared so I answered honestly.
"My name is Gayan. I am lost. I am looking for a place to sleep," I said, disgusted at how pathetic I sounded.
His grip tightened and as he began dragging me to the cart, he looked at me - his gaze was overflowing with rage and the words that came after explained in all.
"This coat belonged to my father. You stole that from my home."
My knees grew weak as I panicked at the accusation.
Everybody had stopped and was looking at us. The man dragging me turned to his companions and they all looked back expectantly.
"Chain him," he said and they all moved as if they had rehearsed this.
Calmly, I looked at him and I tried the same trick I did with the cute lady of earlier.
"Let me go, I did you no harm," the reverberance died half-way through my sentence and my words sounded empty even to myself.
He looked at me and his grip seemed to loosen but then his eyes regained the same rage that animated them before, only reinforced and he manhandled me even harder.
"I will make you my thrall," he said as his companions chained my wrists to the cart.