Hidden Fire (The FIRE series Book 1)
Page 20
“Ladies, how good of you to come, especially when we have such difficult days ahead.”
“Is war definite then, Your Highness?”
“I'm afraid so Mistress Burgess.”
“It's Miss actually.”
“I do apologise; it's very wrong of me to assume.”
“Most people do.”
“But Lizzy isn't most people,”
“My dear Caro,” Lizzy held out her hands to her oldest friend, “how wonderful to see you again. I'm sorry I haven't been before; it's been hectic at the palace.” The two women hugged and then took their seats at the tea table.
“Now ladies, I asked you here because I think what you're all doing is important, and I'd like to support you.”
“All of us?”
“Of course, why not?”
“Most of your kind don't take kindly to working women muscling in on this stuff.”
“I can't imagine why; I'd have thought working class women would be the experts on their own lives?”
“That's what we said.” Lou piped up. Her voice belied the lines on her face; she looked thirty but couldn't be more than eighteen.
“Who has said otherwise?”
“That'n there.” Angie pointed to Breda, glaring angrily, “She said in one of their pamphlets that they thought only women of the same class as the men who can vote should be given the vote.”
“I did not. I said that unless all men were given the vote, only middle class women should have the vote, to ensure parity. You clearly can't read.”
“And you're a snob.”
“Your Highness, I did not come here to be insulted by this ignorant baggage, I must leave.”
“Ladies, ladies, please. This infighting is doing none of us any good.” Margie placated the two women.
“You're quite right, may I make a suggestion?”
“Ma'am?”
“Universal suffrage.”
“I don't understand.”
“I do; you think we should campaign for everyone to get the vote?”
“Yes. It hardly makes sense to give the vote to one set of adults and not another based purely on social class.”
“But, everyone? Really? I can't imagine what will happen to the Moot if anyone can vote?” Breda seemed confused; Lizzy, a lady, wasn't supposed to side with the poor people, was only supposed to provide polite charity.
“It'll be more representative?”
“I think so.”
“We'd never get the MM's to agree to that.”
“Why not?”
“Because everyone knows they quite enjoy their boy's club.”
“Hang on a minute, my husband's an MM; it's not a club at all.”
“Margie, we both know that only Guildsmen and Burgesses get to vote and they always vote for their own.”
“I'm not denying that Ma'am, but that's how it's always been done.”
Lizzy couldn't deny the truth of that, the Guildhall had been the template for the Moot; she took another sip of tea and thought about her next comment while the other women discussed their differences of opinion, Caro acting as referee when necessary.
Suddenly, she coughed. The women looked at her.
“I think we need to make an agreement, a treaty of sorts, for the time being.”
“I understand you.”
“You do?”
“Of course; you wouldn't have got us all together if you didn't want something.”
“Well, I thought it made more sense to talk to you directly. The war is going to happen, unfortunately, and whatever happens I want us,” she pointed at the women representing the various factions, “to be in a strong position at the end of it. If the queen returns the Curates will have her backing to reverse all our gains. If they can find a gap to exploit they will. So we won't let them.”
“You want us to amalgamate?”
“No, I want you to agree to disagree and work together. All of us want to improve the situation of women in this city and the country as a whole, is that not so?”
The women nodded tentatively, waiting to see where she would go with this, though Angie was smiling slightly.
“Well, then, we have taken the liberty of drawing up a declaration of shared goals for all of the associations. I'd like us all to agree to a set of common goals to work towards. Caro, you have the declaration?”
“Here.” Caro pulled out a sheet of paper with an initial announcement for them to read through.
“Whatever we decide, I'll have to put it to my members first.” Angie tapped her lips.
“Of course. All of you should.”
“Have you spoken to your party about this?”
“Yes, I've been able to speak to most of them since I returned from Belenos, we're in agreement.”
“The Radicals are going to lead us all, are they?” Angie sneered, Lizzy's Radical Party were mostly upper class and upper middle class, they didn't have to worry about losing their jobs if they were discovered, in the main because they didn't need to work.
“My husband won't approve of me associating with the Radicals.” Mistress Tailor tutted.
“He's a Moderate, isn't he?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so, I think I met him once; did you go to the Guild of Tailors Annual Dinner three years ago?” Caro wrinkled her brow, wriggling out the memory; she'd the ought Breda's face was familiar.
“Why yes, we did. It was the last time, we're not in tailoring anymore.”
“No, you sell cloth instead, I get some of my best cottons from your warehouse.” Caro smiled at the woman, hoping the compliment would mollify her.
“Have you seen our Belenosian lace? It's new in and we probably won't be able to get much more if the war closes the trade routes.”
“Let's hope it doesn't but you never know who the Sumoasti will attack.”
“They wouldn't attack a Belenosian ship surely?”
“Well, they attacked Calmani ships going to Umar to buy furs.”
“Weren't they pirates though?”
“Under the orders of Lord Tarjan.” Lizzy reminded them.
“Horrible man, trying to start a war just to get his niece back here where she's not wanted.”
“Is that the general feeling, that the Queen is unwelcome in Albon?”
“Among my customers and the Campaign members? Yes. She's a Fundamentalist believer.”
“That's true, and her politics are in line with the Fundamentalist Curates League. She has a new curate, or had, a while ago.”
“Really? I thought we weren't allowing people to visit?”
“He got through by claiming to be going to Calman on a Mission, and then got a ship to Tarjan after six months.”
“How?”
“Our ambassador in Calman thought the Curate was going on another Mission after trying Calman.” Lizzy shrugged, “It happens.”
“How careless, but that's neither here nor there. I will put this declaration to the WSL members at our next meeting.”
“I'll talk to the girls, see what they think.”
“Is there anything you disagree with, on first reading?”
Angie and Lou glanced at the declaration, muttering quietly to each other. Before turning back to Lizzy and passing the paper over to Margie who read through it herself.
“Well, we were wandering, what about the whores?”
“I beg your pardon?” Breda coloured up, “That's hardly appropriate.”
“No, no it's fine, please, explain?”
“Well, we represent all working women, and whores do work for their living. This declaration is for 'respectable' women.”
“As it should be, those with low morals don't deserve to be involved. They'll taint us all.”
Angie rose from her seat, wagging an angry finger at the burgher’s wife, calling her ignorant and callous, while Breda returned the insults in kind.
“Hang on a moment both of you, and do sit down, you'll spill your tea.”
Feathers ruffled but slightly calmer the two women sat down.
“I see what you mean Angie,” Margie muttered through a bit lip, “We should be working for all women, not just the ones whose jobs we approve of. I'm sure there must be hundreds of reasons women become prostitutes.”
“It's mostly poverty; don't have much choice at times.”
“Really, there must be some sort of choice.”
“Freedom to starve is no freedom at all. You're right, it's a sort of choice.”
“That's why the WWA wants a social pension for them as fall on hard times and a legal lower wage limit.” Lou turned to Caro, “How much do you pay you shop girls?”
“Ten crowns a day.”
“How many hours a day do they work?”
“Well, it depends, up to fourteen though.”
“Not that fair a wage, is it?”
“It's better than most shop girls earn!”
“That doesn't make it right though, does it? A shop man earns twice that.”
“So do most men, it's normal.”
“That should change too.”
“Quite right Lou.” Angie looked round at the others, “We should add equal pay to the declaration.”
“I agree; it's hardly fair for a man to be paid twice as much as a woman for the same work.”
“And equal access to training and education, and the professions.”
“That's already on the declaration.”
“Not the professions, it isn't.”
“Angie's right, if we're going for full equality and equity, we need to fight for equal access to all professions.” Margie dug a pencil out of her purse and started adding notes to the declaration she was holding. “Anything else while were thinking about it?”
Lizzy stood, stretched and walked about the room as the women talked about amendments to the declaration and tried to work around their differences. She lost track of the conversation at some point, walking over to the window and leaning her head on the glass. Something wasn't right, something was missing.
“It feels like we're just tweaking things.” Lizzy mumbled, looking out of the window at the now dark square. In the centre the raised dais held two men in the stocks for the night and the sounds of revellers rose from the taverns on the other side of the square.
“What was that Lizzy?”
“Oh, I'm just remembering something Sarah said.” Lizzy turned her back on the scene and smiled at her friend.
“What's that?”
“If we get what we want, it'll only be surface change. The change needs to go deep down into the roots.”
“I think what we're proposing is a great change, what more do we need to do?”
“I don't know, but it doesn't feel like enough.”
“That's the problem with you radicals, never happy.” Margie laughed, teasing gently.
“You want to turn the world inside out.” Breda accused.
“No, I just want to make things right, for everyone.”
“You’re a strange princess, that's for certain. Does the king know you're here tonight?” Angie asked quietly.
“No, and he doesn't need to. He's trying to organise a war.”
“War ain't organised, is it? My father was in the last one we had with Calman, fifty years ago, he said it was a bloody mess, no one knew what anyone else was doing.”
“That war ended in a truce and a trade agreement though.”
“It did. How will this one end?”
“Chuffed if I know, well for us and badly for Tarjan I hope.”
“So do we all; now, unless there's anything else I need to get home to my husband and children, and I'm sure the rest of you must have work in the morning?”
The meeting broke up after Lizzy assured the four women that copies of the amended declaration would be available for them to collect from Caro before the end of the week.
Chapter 39
War was declared during the annual Fall of Leaf Festival, when, the harvest mostly gathered the farmers of Albon shut up shop for a week to eat, drink and relax after the hard work of the year. The Sumoasti ambassador, from his retreat in Calman sent a message warning the Albonese that unless they retracted their claims against the Sumoasti then Lord Holmgard had no choice but to declare war. King John sent an immediate message to Lord Holmgard in the Sumoasti capital, Tarjan, that given the evidence he would not and could not do so.
The first attacks came a day later.
An Albonese trading ship heading to Camar was taken by surprise by half a dozen Sumoasti war ships. All hands were lost. Jonsey immediately ordered every ship out into Alboni waters, guarding the trade routes and major ports.
“Will they attack?” Michael asked Alex as they watched the fleet sail away from the Hythe.
“Us? Probably not, this war will be fought at sea, I think.”
“Why?”
“We get our wealth from trade, so do the Sumoasti, and all the islands. It's about controlling that trade, it always was. We have to starve each other into submission.”
Michael nodded, taking in the information and connecting it up to other bits and pieces he'd heard over the years.
“Did mother marry father for trade?”
“Yes. Sorry kid, I know you don't want to hear it, but that's what royal marriages are. Even Dad and Catherine were introduced for political reasons. It just so happens they fancied the pants off each other.”
“And that's not the case with my parents?” He didn't have any illusions on that score but having it confirmed by someone who was there was important.
“No.” Alex looked down before turning to his young cousin, a fraternal urge to protect him taking over, “You're going to have to make the same choice one day, I just hope you get to choose.”
“Won't I?”
Alex shrugged, “Maybe, if uncle has learnt anything from his own marriage.”
Michael nodded and thought some more.
“Did Dad love Lizzy's mother?”
“I don't know; he's fond of her, but she married Sir Philip a few months after Lizzy arrived, so I think it was more a passing infatuation rather than love. He does love Lizzy something strong though.”
“I think she resents us.”
“Who, Lady Mary?”
“No, Lizzy.”
“Nonsense. She loves you beyond reason.”
“Does she?”
“Of course.”
“But if Mother hadn't married Father, she'd have been able to stay in the city.”
“True, but eventually Lady Mary and Sir Philip would have wanted to go back to East Marsh and play at farmers, and Lizzy would have had to go with them.”
“But ten years?”
“That was your mother. It's her Lizzy resents, keeping her away from the king, you, us, for so long.”
“And the city.”
“Yes, and the city.”
Michael turned away from watching the ships, now over the horizon, and they started back up the Hythe to the gate to collect their horses.
“She was out late again last night; has she got another lover?”
“Not that I know of. I think it's Party stuff; she's got something going on she's keeping from the rest of us. I think she needs a distraction from the war.”
“The war just started.”
“But she's been fighting it for two years already; everyone on the Council has.”
“And you?”
“And me. It's exhausting.”
“What should I do? I should help.”
“Watch and learn. That's all you can do. Uncle won't let you go to sea. Come to the Council meetings with us?”
“That could be interesting, but it's to going to help the war effort.”
“Help with the home front campaigns? Lizzy is organising some of them.”
“Yes, I heard she's the new Minister for Information.”
“Well, we had to make use of that wicked tongue somehow. Afternoon, Jossep, get our horses will you?”
“There you are; did they get off alright? I think we know where Lizzy's been disappearing to every other night.”
“Give it here then.” Alex grabbed for the paper, which Lawrence let fall.
Michael sighed at his cousins' behaviour and grabbed the paper before it hit the cobblestone path. He flipped it open and scanned the front page.
“Oh dear. Father isn't going to be happy.”
“Lizzy's already had a bollocking for it.”
“Het timing isn't exactly great.”
“No, it's not.”
“Actually,” Michael looked at them, “it's kind of perfect.”
“How?”
“Distraction. People need something to gossip about other than rationing and casualty rates don't they?”
“And what could possibly be more scandalous than a princess joining the Suffragists?”
“It's hardly news to us though.”
“But how many people, outside our circle, know about her politics?”
The three young men looked at each other and shrugged. Clearly none of them had thought about that.
“She's pushing it though. Disestablishing the Curacy? Dad'll never let that one through.”
“It depends on how much popular support the Movement gets.”
“People won't like it; they may not like the Traditionalists and Fundamentalists, but most people don't have an objection to Moderate theology.”
“Except where it hurts people.”
“Well, the Moderates generally try not to. They're a bit wet.”
“Michael! You're going to be secular head of the Curacy one day, the One's appointed representative in this world.”
“How dull. I'm with Lizzy; let’s leave them to their own devices, I'll have enough work to do.” Michael laughed.
“Not for years yet, and you might change your mind by then.”
“What else does it say?”
“I don't know about the paper, but I say let’s get going before those clouds empty their load on us.” Alex pointed up at the purple bruised grey clouds rolling in.