Weight

Jasmin B. Frelih

translated from the Slovene by Gregor Timothy Čeh

‘She is dead?’

Farmer Trost, neighbour and workshop assistant, came riding out after the Lord of the Manor to give him the sad news. Feeling uncomfortable, looking down at his lord from his horse, he nodded.

‘Dead.’

‘And the child?’ asked the lord.

‘Alive. A boy.’

The lord thought for a while.

‘Was there any correspondence?’

Farmer Trost shrugged.

‘Alright,’ said the lord. ‘Thank you.’

The morning mists frayed along the crowns of the spruce trees, and the sun was already cautiously pushing through the clouds along the hilly horizon. In the blue-tinted shade of the trees, Farmer Trost stared at his lord, who had been walking on foot next to his steed but was now rummaging through the leather bag hanging from the horse’s back. He pulled out a large stone and showed it to the farmer.

‘This is limestone.’

Farmer Trost nodded.

‘All this around us used to be sea,’ the Lord of the Manor went on. ‘We are now basically walking along the sea bed.’

‘Your Lordship…’

‘Well, I am walking, you are riding.’

‘Your Lordship…’

The lord stopped and gazed towards the forest.

‘If this hadn’t been sea, there would be more amber around. Have you ever seen amber, Trost?’

‘Your Lordship, soon after you left, she began crying out. There was nobody else around, so the maid rode to Litija to fetch the doctor.’

‘And brought Šturm? No wonder she’s dead,’ said the lord.

‘She was in agony. Doctor Šturm eased her pain.’

The Lord of the Manor grunted under his breath, took the horse’s reins and walked on.

‘Your Lordship… what should I tell them?’

‘Tell them I am on my way. Put her down in the cellar, it’s cooler there.’

Farmer Trost nodded, turning his horse.

‘My sincerest condolences, Baron,’ he said and spurred on the animal.

‘And rub her body with salt!’ the lord called out after him, and then continued on his way, pondering how deep the caverns beneath him must be to have sucked in an entire sea of water. There was something that didn’t quite fit into the ideas he had about the occurrence, but he was not sure what.

The sun rose, sucking up the dew from the blades of grass and leaves. Birds were singing. Their song seemed muffled, as if coming from the hollow tree trunks. Who would now check over his Latin? And just as he had nearly finished this research. He kicked a stone from the path and listened to it echoing as it bounced. The Englishman Newton described in his work the force with which a great mass attracts