The culottes were so wide that even the strictest eye would find no fault. Only the tips of Mirrie’s little shoes peeked out from under the hem. The girls had gone a step further, attaching two long strips of fabric in the front and the back to hide the fact that the skirt was actually a pair of pants. They looked like decorative aprons and neatly hid the fact that the child was wearing pants, even when she took large steps. All in all, the effect was of a very fancy skirt.
Lily smiled. “Good work. Now I’ll show you something new. Mirrie can watch, too.” The blacksmith had brought Lily her crochet hooks, and she had found some silk thread that belonged to the old Lilian. It was pink, of course, but she would use it anyway. (When she went looking for crochet thread, she found an entire room full of thread and fine yarns that the old Lilian had apparently used for embroidery.)
Now, heads bent in a circle, the girls watched Lily hook the thread into loops. They were shocked by even a simple shell pattern. The process was simple, but the result was lace! Marcia grabbed a hook first, followed by the other dressmakers.
“My lady, how do I…”
“It isn’t hard. Watch how I do it.” Lily moved her hands slowly. Half an hour later (it was actually more like an hour), all three had mastered the art of crocheting shells.
Their happy crafting circle was broken up by the appearance of an indignant Maria Reichart.
“My lady, it’s time for Lady Miranda’s lessons!”
Mirrie closed her eyes and whispered one of the words that an earl’s daughter shouldn’t know. Maria’s eyes got wider.
Lily sighed. “Let’s go, Mirrie.”
“Are you coming, too?”
“I suppose I have to. I’ve been using those bad words, so I need to learn good manners.”
“I didn’t know grownups had lessons.”
“Smart people are always learning something new. Stupid people just stay stupid. Remember that.”
“You are absolutely correct, my lady,” said Maria with a slight bow. “And I don’t suppose Lady Miranda wishes to be stupid.”
“Of course not,” Lily answered for them both. “Where is Mark?”
“He is already in the classroom. My lady, he is a very serious young man. I have seen him preparing his lessons from early morning until late in the evening.”
“Mirrie, how can you be behind in your studies while Mark works so hard?”
The little girl could tell from Lily’s tone of voice that her poor grades were a tragedy. She shook her head. “But it’s so boring, Lily!”
“Let’s do all your lessons together for today. Perhaps it will be more interesting that way.”
It really was interesting, learning together. Lily was only sorry she hadn’t started sooner. She listened carefully (and Miranda listened occasionally) as Maria explained how to greet people of various ranks.
When presented with a commoner – a person with no title – it was sufficient to nod politely. If a noble decided to speak to a commoner, he could use whatever form of address he preferred: good Tom, my man Tom.
So, I can call people whatever I like, and they’ll thank me for it because I’m a countess.
A nobleman with a non-hereditary title was addressed as “Aldar.” A woman in the same position was called “Aldari,” but there had only been three or four such women in the entire history of the world, Lily learned.
A nobleman without an estate was addressed as “Leir.” If the noble was a woman, she was called “Leira.” Barons and baronesses were addressed as “Honorable.” Earls must be addressed as “My lord.” Dukes were addressed as “My lordship.” If an earl had children, they were called viscounts. A duke’s children were marquises. These were signs of respect, not titles in their own right.
Lily listened. She watched Maria demonstrate the proper ways to nod and bow. She decided that the woman might be dull as dirt, but she had valuable knowledge.
When Maria was done explaining the intricacies of rank, she had Mark and Mirrie practice greeting her as she pretended to be different people they might meet. The children enjoyed the exercise, competing with each other to see who could score more points. Lily praised first one and then the other as she sorted through the papers she had brought with her.
Sitting in on the lesson gave Lily an important insight. Maria wasn’t a bad teacher. She knew her subject well and was obviously an intelligent woman. Her only trouble was that her voice had the effect of putting listeners to sleep. Lily decided to help her out. She kept the children from misbehaving. She made funny faces when it was called for, and when necessary, she asked Maria to repeat herself. The lesson slowly progressed.
The captain of the Golden Lily, Selim Ramar din Akhmed, was just as dark-haired, heavyset and hospitable as Ali remembered.
“Ali, my friend! May your horse always be fleet, your herds plentiful, your fields fruitful and your wives young and beautiful.”
Ali replied in the same style. Selim invited his old friend to share a meal, and Ali brought out several bottles of the strong wine that Helke had presented to him when they parted, calling it by the strange name “Applejack.” Their conversation flowed easily. Ali recounted the story of his leg and showed off how he could walk just like everyone else.
Selim was delighted. “I’d never guess it had been broken. You aren’t limping at all! And you say that soon those pieces of wood will come off?”
“Ten more days and I’ll take them off. I’m still cautious with the leg.”
“I see. Where are you headed?”
“To Earton. I wanted to ask you if you have anything that would make an interesting gift for the countess?”
“I’m carrying serious cargo, my friend. An Avarian.”
“An Avarian? Is it a stallion?”
“It is. Fiery red.”
Ali thought for a second, then nodded. “I’ll take him.”
Selim stroked his beard. “You want…”
“Yes.”
“It’s a royal gift.”
Avarian horses were so expensive that only few people could afford to buy them. It was a rare breed, with fiery coats and black manes and tails. They had been bred over centuries and could no longer be crossed with other horses. If a man bred an Avarian to a horse of another breed, the Avarian blood was lost in the first generation. Khangans loved the horses and rarely sold them to outsiders.
“My life is worth more than a horse at any price. Or did you already have a client in mind?”
“Perhaps. I was taking him to Ativerna. They say that Edward is looking to marry his son. I thought he might want to make a gift of the stallion.”
“I promise you won’t lose money selling him to me.”
“Ali, my friend, you know I will give you a fair price.”
The men looked at each other and laughed. This was the prelude to bargaining. Ten minutes later, each of them would be moaning that the other was a miser and a skinflint, calling down the wrath of the Great Mare and trying to rip out the other’s beard. But sooner or later, they would agree on a price.
The process took just two hours. When they were done, the men shared another glass of applejack and shook hands on the deal.
Then Selim said, as if he had just recalled it, “I have someone on board who would be interested in seeing your leg.”
“Who would that be?”
“Tahir Djiaman din Dashar.”
“What?” Ali was shocked. Tahir was a well-known healer whose advice was often sought by the Khangan. He wrote poetry and studied the properties of herbs.
“Why is he here?”
“Because there are some sicknesses that even he cannot heal. And if his patient is the Great Khangan’s own son…”
“You have risked a great deal.”
“True.”
The men sat in silence. There was nothing to say. Both of them knew that Selim was risking his life by helping the healer escape. Now Ali understood why Selim was out on the ocean at this time of year.
He s
hrugged. “He can see my leg if he wants.”
The great healer turned out to be a tall, thin old man with a long beard and a kind smile. He felt Ali’s leg, examined it thoroughly and shook his head.
“I would like to know the person who did this. It is truly the work of a healer who is favored by the Great Mare.”
“Countess Lilian Earton did it.”
Once again, Ali told his story. The result was predictable: Tahir expressed a great desire to go to Earton with Ali. Several hours later, the ships parted. Ali’s ship was heavier by one horse, one healer and the healer’s two tame mongooses.
Lily had spent her entire morning with Miranda, so she devoted her afternoon to the Virmans’ prisoners. She sat at the desk in her study and had them brought in, one at a time, so that she could question them: who they were, where they had lived before, how they had ended up on the slave ship.
At the end of the afternoon, she had counted sixteen men she might want to keep. Two of them were carpenters, seven were peasants, six were sailors and one was a teacher. Their stories were all similar. The sailors had been kidnapped from a port city when they were dead drunk, waking to find themselves in the slave ship’s hold. The carpenters were sold into slavery by their masters. While there was no official slavery in Ativerna, apprentices were occasionally sold to slave traders if they misbehaved. These particular apprentices had done something truly awful by local standards: they had peeked at the recipe for their master’s wood varnish. Lily listened intently as they explained. Their master had come up with a fantastic varnish that, once cured, protected the wood underneath from all water damage. It was expensive, but it worked.
How interesting. I’ll have them run some experiments this winter.
The peasants had been sold by their elders, some of them because they had debts they couldn’t repay, others because they weren’t steady workers. Lily wondered for a bit what to do with them, but eventually she decided that she wouldn’t let them go until they had worked off what they owed her.
If they hadn’t landed here, they would have ended up slaves in Virma or somewhere worse. They ought to be happy enough to work for me.
When she announced her decision, her new “slaves” were pleased. Winter was coming. They had no money, no work and no warm clothes. Understandable, they also had no desire to hit the road (or the trails that passed for roads in Earton). Lily explained the harsh reality of their position. She had no intention of paying them. They would work for food and clothing. Once travel was possible in the spring, she would pay them according to how hard they had worked and they could go or stay, as they liked.
She assigned the sailors to work for the Virmans repairing boats and catching fish. The peasants and carpenters were assigned to build another sauna. All of them would work hard. There was no free bread in Earton.
Now what do I do with the teacher?
Lons Avels had slept well, eaten his fill and had a chance to think about his situation. As a result, he didn’t lose his nerve when they brought him to see the countess. He had faced Gardwig many a time, so he wasn’t afraid of anyone.
The Countess of Earton turned out to be a pleasant young woman. She was on the heavy side, for sure, but her green eyes shone with intelligence. Lons was a connoisseur of the female body, and he was disappointed at the modest cut of her neckline.
He swallowed hard and looked her in the face. “My lady.”
“What is your name?”
“Lons Avels. Chevalier Lons Avels.”
Lily sent up a small prayer of gratitude that she had sat in on Maria’s lesson. Otherwise, she would have had no idea how to greet him. She bowed her head ever so slightly.
“Leir Avels, how did you end up a slave?”
“Some rascals sold me to the slave traders. Rope holds a chevalier just like it holds a commoner.”
Lily thought quickly. He was an aristocrat – of sorts, but still – and she couldn’t treat him like one of the sailors. “Tell me, Leir Avels, how can I help you?”
Lons was the last to have an interview with the countess, so he had already prepared his answer. “My lady, in other circumstances I would ask you to send me to Altver. However, I have no money and do not want to beg from a lady.”
Lily nodded again.
“Could you use my services as a tutor?”
She looked at him sharply. “What subjects do you teach?”
“Mathematics, calligraphy, history, and geography.” This was no lie. Lons had taught many things to the young princesses in Wellster.
Lily leaned forward. “I may be able to use you, but first, a test.” A scroll landed on the table in front of Lons. “Read it.”
He picked up the scroll and read fluently about the sufferings of Earta Kaliana. Lily nodded. “Fine. Now another test. Picture a house with seven rooms. Each room has seven corners. In each corner, there are seven apples. How many apples are there in the house?”
Lons stopped to think. He had never heard a math problem like that before, and he didn’t want to risk doing it mentally.
“May I use the tablet, my lady?”
She pushed her wax tablet across the table and watched him scratch away.
He’s no mathematician, but I’ll keep him. I can’t risk teaching Mirrie math on my own, but I can use him for cover.
“Three hundred forty-three apples, my lady.”
He got the right answer, but it took him too long. Not bad for second grade math. Mirrie’s no better, though, and she doesn’t need to know integrals right now, anyway.
“I’ll hire you to teach your subjects to Lady Miranda Catherine Earton, my stepdaughter. Go speak to her other tutors and plan your lessons. I will sit in on the lessons once you begin.”
“Do you not trust me, my lady?”
“I sit in on all of Lady Miranda’s lessons. You can ask her tutors.”
Lons left Lily’s study with a promise of food, clothing, a place to live, and one silver coin a month. He had been instructed to find the housekeeper. A stern woman named Emma Mattie showed him to his room and promised to send a servant with hot water. It was the countess’ rule that everyone living at the castle wash daily, even if it was just a sponge bath.
As he waited for the hot water, Lons lay down on the floor to avoid soiling the bed. He had some time to think. If he could have chosen, he would have raced away to find Anna that very day, but he realized that was impossible. It was almost winter. Lons didn’t like the idea of traveling to Wellster by land in the snow, and he certainly didn’t want to risk another sea voyage. He had had enough of storms, slave traders and pirates. It would take him several months to accomplish his voyage no matter how he went, and he had no clear idea of what he would do when he got there. After reflecting, he decided it would be wise to first find out what was happening in Wellster. He would plan and prepare before he did anything. Then an idea occurred to him: the countess had to have some expensive jewelry, didn’t she?
I don’t have to steal anything. Here she is, all by herself, living in the middle of nowhere.
Lons had a friend who earned his keep by consoling lonely noblewomen. It wasn’t exactly an honorable profession, but beggars can’t be choosers. He would do anything to find his way back to Anna. One thing gave him consolation: Lilian Earton was handsome. He had seen more beautiful women, for sure, but there was something very attractive about her. In his mind, he allowed his eyes traveled from her face to her breasts to her full hips.
Lons loved Anna, but he wanted to survive more than anything.
Taris Brok cantered along on his horse, thinking about Lilian Earton. Any way he looked at it, her husband was a fool. How could he leave such a smart, beautiful woman all by herself in such an out-of-the-way corner of the kingdom? She needed a man. There had been an attempt on her life. He would most certainly inform her father of everything he knew once he got to Altver. It would be worth the price of a three-pigeon letter.
Her interviews completed, Lily was walking down the
hall when someone called to her.
“My lady! I am glad to see that you are much improved!”
It was Damis Reis, staring at her breasts again.
What is wrong with this idiot?
She nodded politely. “Yes.”
Damis had worked with less before. He started in on a ten-minute paean to Lily’s many fine qualities. She learned that she was like the sun: without her, the castle was plunged into darkness. He even managed to compliment her on her lovely hair and her smile.
I wish I could hit him!
He reminded her of a knucklehead she had gone to college with. The boy had thought he was irresistible to women until Aliya told him off in an expletive-laced tirade in front of the whole class. Even that didn’t keep him down long: the very next day he tried to press her into a corner so he could get his hands on her.
Lily didn’t like to remember that episode. For some reason, Damis reminded her of the knucklehead. He had the same ridiculous confidence in his own sex appeal. However, one of the advantages of her new life as a countess was that she didn’t have to put up with anyone she outranked. So, after listening politely for a minute more, she raised one hand.
“My good man, did you have something of importance to say to me? If not, you are free to go.”
His eyes widened.
“Have I not made myself clear?”
“My lady, I beg you for mercy.”
“What kind of mercy?”
“You are the only one who can assist with my dilemma. Your kindness, like your beauty, is…”
Lily wanted to tell him to put a sock in it, but she doubted he owned any socks and she didn’t want to waste her humor on him. So she raised a hand to stop him. “Get to the point, my good man. How can I assist you with your dilemma?” Her green eyes shone dangerously. Damis sensed it.
“My lady, I beg you on my knees” (he was still standing) “to remove that plebe from my lessons!”
Lily’s eyebrows went up. Was one of her servants interested in gaining knowledge? If only! She soon learned that Damis was objecting to the pastor’s son, Mark. The boy was a commoner, he had a bad influence on Lady Miranda, and Damis’ sense of personal honor was injured by having to teach one of them. It would be detrimental to his reputation if it were to get out.
The Clearing (Medieval Tale Book 2) Page 19