A Matter of Turnips and Potatoes

Liam sighed. It wasn't fair. Kariem was able to go to the market, and he had to continue farming. The turnips weren't doing well this year, and because father was now 79, he and Kariem had to do most of the work. Not today of course, because Kariem, lucky dog, was at the market.
Liam's green eyes were a bit blurry, as they stared seemingly into the distant future. Really, the fact that he had been born was a miracle. His parents had been in their early 60's when he and had been born. He yanked his thoughts back from his parents and back to the turnips. Turnips were the main food source in Lothan, his home village. Well, that and potatos that is. He concidered the posibilities that lay in store for his midday dinner. Well, there were turnovers of potatoes, turnips and if he was lucky, a little fish. Beef and chicken were scarce that year. His Majesty King Damien had ordered that the few cows, other than those for milking, were to be part of the taxes for Lothan. Moram, the neighboring village, was taxed with chickens, all but 2 birds per family for eggs. His mind continued to wander. His brother; his mother; Manela, his dog; and the fact that he was going to have to go into the army soon. His mother said that he was only 16, but he suspected otherwise. Laran, his mother, had always been very protective. And for that matter, so was Clorem, his father. For now he just had to continue watering turnips. Arrrrrgh, but his back was killing him. He continued to try and focus his thoughts, but it was useless. Well, he figured, you didn't need much concentration in this job. "Liaaaaaam! Liaaaaaaaaam! Are you theeeere?" Just as his thought began to settle, his mother called him.
"Yeeeees!" he called.
"Well come on in! Your turnovers are getting cold!"
"Cooooooming!" he shouted. Finally! Dinner!
As he stepped into the small cottage that he called home, he noticed that his mother's eyes were red. This was odd, as Laran didn't ever get sick, or have allergies.
"Mother! Whats wrong? Your eyes are red." exclaimed Liam.
"It's nothing." she said brusquely, rubbing her hands over her face roughly.
"Alright...." Liam said reluctantly, letting the subject drop. It wasn't his buisiness. If his mother wanted to tell him, she would in her own time. Clorem came through the doorway, stooping slightly. As soon as he was inside the cottage, he looked normal, but while he was in the doorway he was distorted. The cottages in this village had been built when people were much smaller, and as a result, people gifted with height, such as Clorem, were forced to endure small discomforts such as this.
"Laddie! Yur lookin fine! Is yur mather feedin ye well? Ye've been worrkin outsade forr weel overr 4 hourrs! Did ye nay notice the time?" Clorem asked in his thick brough.
"Yes father, mother is at that! Turnovers! And yes, i suppose i did!" Liam mimed someone rubbing his stomach in ecstasy over a delicious delicacy.
"Ay laddie. Yur sense of huemorr is goin to get ye in trrouble one of theese days! The king won't stand no monkey busness, ye ken!"
"I KNOW father. I'm just joking. You react so well that its a shame NOT to bait you a little." Clorem sighed and shook his head, visibly giving up on his son. Just then Kariem walked in. His sandy hair was tousled by the wind, and his faicle features registered shock and numbness. "Karriem! Laddie! Wheets wrrong?" exclaimed Clorem.
"The Siltinians are attacking!" he gasped out, before becoming aware of his mother's presence. She fell in shock onto a chair.

(This was written by Guineagal, not me. She will now be posting, via email through me, segments of the story. I shall also continue Nat's story. How do you like the title I gave it Guineagal?)