He was in the process of trying to blow one smoke ring through another when he heard her coming.
“My little Kipper, you are smoking in here with my plants,” Princess Dorlane proclaimed with amusement.
“It won’t harm their lungs one bit, Mahmay,” he answered, rising respectfully.
She opened the door leading to the garden and then seated herself opposite him.
“And now, what do you wish to know?” she asked.
Kaymar was used to his mother anticipating his wishes and didn’t pause to marvel at it.
“Fambré,” he said bluntly. “What is the true situation there?”
She hesitated, then looked away at the garden.
“Ugly,” she finally said. “The present king is as foolish as his brother, who was deposed during the Revolt when I was a girl. Callous about the poverty there. Never carried out the promised reforms.”
“What about organization? Are there rallies or protests?”
“Not as of yet, but it won’t be long.”
“Damn!” Kaymar, finished with his cigar, dropped the smoldering end on the tiles and extinguished it with his foot.
“You must watch Katrin at all times and take great care if you do travel to Fambré,” Dorlane continued. “There is terrible danger if she is recognized.”
“No-one there could know Katrin,” Kaymar replied, turning from where he had been prowling around the sunny room.
“There are those who knew her mother.”
Kaymar was so astonished that he sat back down on the divan.
“I see her mother frequently. I can’t say there is a close resemblance,” he rebutted her.
“Now. I’m talking about then. Their hair and eyes are not the same colors, but there is a marked resemblance in their features and their bearing and mannerisms. There are people who would make the connection almost immediately.”
“Royalty or commoners?” Kaymar pulled out a notebook and pencil and began to write.
“Royalty. If you travel incognito, you would be safer, but there is always going to be a chance she’ll be known. Her mother traveled widely in Fambré and knew most of the highly born families.”
“I need names,” Kaymar instructed briskly. Dorlane rattled off a list of names familiar to him as members of the Fambrian Royal Family and aristocracy – the few who had remained or had returned to that nation after the Revolt and Terror.
By the time she was finished, he was concerned. They had no plans to have Katrin anywhere near the Fambrian Court but it would be possible to run into any of these people if she went into the major towns or cities.
“Not much point in taking her abroad if we have to start striking places off the list,” he sighed.
“Take her for a tour of the country areas. There are plenty of picturesque sights, wineries. Take her to the Laval district, where they make the perfumes. She would love that.”
“Not a great deal left in the museums in Fambré after the Revolt,” Kaymar mused, scribbling away. “That could be a reason not to bother with the towns.”
“Lacemaking in the Velmar Mountains – Varnia would be most happy there.”
“Mahmay, you’re going to salvage what could be a disaster, aren’t you?”
“I cannot go there myself and never will be able to. But I know my country. Use a plain carriage, wear simple clothing. Keep the visit short – possibly go for short stays during the children’s school breaks.” Dorlane became very interested in a nearby plant and started to pinch off dead leaves, grooming it as she would a pet dog.
Kaymar saw a glitter in her eyes – tears. He put the notebook down and knelt before her.
“My dearest Princess mother,” he said gently, “you know my past work has required disguising myself – and I’m good at it. I can disguise you so that no-one in Fambré would ever recognize you. It would be delightful to have you come with us. Don’t you wish to see it again?”
She smiled slightly, avoiding his eyes. After a moment she shook her head.
“No, Kip,” she replied, “and not because I am fearful of being recognized. I would probably be quite safe if I was. The Royal Family and aristocracy are quite open about themselves at this point.
“What I would not be able to bear would be the remembrance of all that happened, of the screams and the torches – the terrible hatred of the peasants and the things they did because of that hatred.
“It’s poisoned ground for me. Best to visit Fambré in my dreams. Then I am a happy little girl playing in a beautiful and safe land. My real world is here.”
Kaymar put his arms around her and held her close.
Moresby, Mordania
Leptham Dock, Mordania
8
Embarkations
“A
h, the very two young ladies I wanted to see.”
Princess Dorlane was standing in the doorway of the Moresby solarium, where Katrin and Varnia were bent over a dress of Katrin’s. Varnia was showing Katrin how to apply lace to the bodice of one of her dresses. Both girls looked up in surprise.
As they rose to curtsey, Dorlane waved them back into their seats.
“This is one place where I allow no formality,” she laughed. “It is my favorite sanctuary. Kaymar loved it as a child because he could be a wild thing in here. He would pretend to be a langhur, growling and leaping around while I tried to read.”
Katrin laughed aloud and Varnia smiled.
“Now then, what pretty work,” Dorlane exclaimed, perusing the dress that was being transformed. “If you weren’t leaving tomorrow, Varnia, I would beg you to use this technique on some of my dresses.”
Varnia flushed slightly and nodded.
“I’ve prevailed upon Menders to come by Moresby again when your journey is done, so I would ask if you would consider it then,” Dorlane continued.
“Of course, Princess,” Varnia whispered.
“Not in here. I am Dorlane, this is Katrin, you are Varnia. Now, I want to give you both gifts, for going away with. How wonderful to be going to see the world when you’re young and free!”
“Why don’t you come with us?” Katrin asked excitedly.
Princess Dorlane patted her own right hip.
“A fall a few years back finished traveling for me,” she answered cheerfully. “But here at Moresby, I have the entire world. It’s always there, no matter how small or restricted the place, if you only know how to look. Something to remember when cooped up on a rainy day.”
She laughed and patted their hands, then produced two packages from her capacious dress pocket. She put them on the sewing table in front of them.
“Don’t be polite. Open,” she directed grandly.
They took up the prettily wrapped parcels and opened them to find two daggers, their sheaths and handles jeweled and embellished with repousse work and gold decorations.
“I can’t possibly accept something this valuable,” Vania gasped.
“And risk my wrath?” Dorlane laughed.
Katrin had her dagger out of its sheath and was inspecting the blade.
“This is beautiful!” she exclaimed. “Is it Samorsan?”
“Well done!” Dorlane answered. “Indeed it is. There is a story of these two knives. Would you like to hear it? I warn you – it is not all pretty.”
Katrin put the dagger back into its sheath. Varnia looked intently at Dorlane.
“As you know, I am a Princess of the Royal Family of Fambré,” Dorlane began. “I was the niece of the King. My mother was his sister. Growing up at the Court was wonderful for my sister and me – we were shielded from the less savory things that went on there. Being children, we saw it all as magical and splendid.
“But the King, my uncle, was a weak and foolish ruler. He ignored the fact that the people of the country were poor. He felt they were of no import. Only great matters of state, arranging marriages for his children, Court entertainments and hunting mattered to him. The trials and difficulties of what he called ‘t
he common people’ concerned him not at all – though in any nation ‘the common people’ are the nation.”
Katrin nodded. Menders had taught that from the time she first sat on his lap to have stories read to her. Varnia looked fierce.
“I’m sure you both know the story of the Revolt of Fambré and of the time that followed, The Terror,” Dorlane continued.
Both girls nodded. History classes at Eiren’s school had been part of their educations. Eiren thoroughly analyzed the Fambrian Revolt with the students. Katrin was plagued by nightmares after reading about The Terror, a time when members of the Fambrian aristocracy and royal family were hunted down, tortured and killed by common people who had been taxed beyond endurance and treated as less than human by the wealthy.
“My dear Pappa was a military man,” Princess Dorlane continued after a moment. “He was more aware of the situation in Fambré than my mother, who had been sheltered all of her life. He wanted to leave Fambré and go to Samorsa or Barambos but Mahmay wouldn’t hear of it.
“He came back from a mission to Samorsa with these daggers – they are ladies’ daggers and were commonly carried at that time. Very dashing and glamorous. We were astonished when Pappa gave them to us and Mahmay said that he was silly. He insisted we learn to use them and had us practice every day with him. We thought it great fun and very dramatic at first. We became quite skilled. We learned to throw them at targets as well. I was best at fighting with the knife, my sister was far better at hitting the targets.
“My sister was fourteen and I was sixteen when The Revolt began. Pappa moved us quickly to our country estate and for a while, things seemed to be secure. Then he moved us again to a small cottage near the ocean, in the middle of the night. We didn’t know it then, but the King had been captured and executed by the leaders of the Revolt. Our Pappa was trying to arrange an escape by sea and needed us at the seaside so we could be taken away to safety.
“We had a few servants with us at first but then they ran away. We were alone, the four of us, and only Pappa with any idea of how to cook and keep house. Mahmay was bereft away from her friends and family at Court. She did not know if they were dead or alive. Pappa spent hours every day on the beach, watching the sea with his spyglass to see if the boat arranged to come for us was on the way. He always insisted on our knife practice, no matter how unhappy or tired we were from trying to keep the house clean and gathering wood for the fires.
“Things had changed so much. Now, if we complained or protested that we didn’t want to practice with the knives, Pappa was very stern and wouldn’t indulge us. He made us work for hours on our skills. We began to hate the sight of these knives and told each other we should hide them and say we’d lost them. Foolish, but we were kept so in the dark at the time. We had no idea of the danger and the condition of the country.”
Katrin reached out for Princess Dorlane’s hand. Varnia swallowed audibly.
“The terrible night came. Pappa had been down by the shore all day, peering through his glass. He finally came rushing into the cottage, shouting that we must leave, the boat had come. He said there was no time to take anything with us, that we had to run as quickly as we could. When my sister tried to pick up her case of jewelry, he took it from her hand and threw it on the floor. He asked us if we had our knives. Once he saw they were strapped around our waists, he told us to run – to run down to the sea, not to stop, not to look back.
“His voice was terrible. When we hesitated, he bellowed for us to go, to run, that he and our mother would be right behind. We were so shocked that we ran out of the cottage.
“Then we stopped and looked back.
“Our father had picked up a gun and was handing another to our mother. Though this was frightening, what terrified us was what we saw coming toward the cottage – a huge line of torches moving up through the fields and woods. They threw a flickering, reddish light as they drew closer to the little cottage. We knew those two guns would be no use against so many.
“The torchlight was enough by then that our father, looking out the door, could see us standing there, transfixed.
“‘Run! Run to the sea!’ he shouted desperately. ‘Run to the sea!’ His face was terrified. It was then we knew our parents were buying us time with their hopeless attempt to fight the people who were coming.
“We did as he bid. We ran, our dresses catching on branches and rocks. But we had been seen. Then we heard our father’s gun and his voice as he shouted to us again to run to the sea.”
Princess Dorlane paused and closed her eyes for a moment.
“You don’t need to finish,” Varnia whispered.
“Oh, but I do,” Dorlane answered. “The people with torches had seen us and some of them gave chase. We could hear our father screaming – and then our mother. His voice was silenced right away but hers went on and on…”
Varnia began to shiver. Princess Dorlane reached out and took her hand, gripping Katrin’s fingers with sudden strength at the same time.
“I saw that my sister had her knife in her hand and drew my own. We turned and fled toward the shore, but we were too late. Men raced up to us and laid hands on us.
“I swung my knife at the one who had grabbed me, slashing at his hands and face again and again. Pappa had never told us that some men will continue to fight even though wounded. I slashed and stabbed, but I could smell the drink on him. He probably wasn’t feeling a thing. I could hear my sister fighting nearby and that gave me strength, though the man was grappling with me and trying to get my knife. I was tiring – fear will give you strength for a while, but it saps you too.
“He finally managed to trip me. He fell on top of me and began squeezing the wrist of my knife hand. I managed a couple of slashes, but my strength was gone. He got the knife from me and I was certain he would kill me. I tried to fight him but could barely move. He was very big and heavy, you see.
“He began cutting at my dress and I realized what he was doing. I found strength then and hit him in the nose with my fists. He roared and rose up in pain – and then my sister threw her knife as true as she did during target practice. It struck his throat and a great surge of blood ran down. I scrambled up and took my knife from him – and between us, we finished him. My bold sister had already killed the man who attacked her.”
“Good!” Katrin burst out. Princess Dorlane smiled grimly and patted her hand.
“We saw more men coming, their torches bobbing along in the dark. We turned and ran together across the dunes and down to the sea.
“The lights of a ship were not far! We ran toward it, screaming for help. The men with torches were on the beach, slow as they ran across the dry sand, but moving faster when reached the firm wet sand by the water. I had lost my shoes and the shells and rocks cut my feet. My breath hurt at every gasp but the knowledge of what those men would do kept me going as fast as I could run.
“Suddenly men appeared from the direction of the ship, caught us up and pulled us into the water where a small boat was waiting. They scrambled in and dragged us in as well. The men at the oars pulled as fast as they could while the men coming with the torches ran into the water after the boat. The water is shallow on that beach. They reached the boat and were clawing at it, but the sailors were stronger. They beat those men with their oars until they sank into the water. Then they began rowing and soon had us out of their reach.
“The peasants howled after us, screaming that they would kill us, roast us on spits. The sailors kept asking about our parents, if they were on the beach as well, if they needed to try to find them.
My sister and I were trying desperately to get our breath. She was wounded from her fight with the man who had attacked her. Seeing how she was bleeding with a sailor binding up her wounded arm, I realized I was covered with cuts and bruises myself.
“Then I looked at the shore. Where our cottage had stood, there was a brilliant blaze. It was then I knew our parents were dead.”
Both Katrin and Varnia wer
e speechless at the horrible tale. They exchanged glances, then looked back at Princess Dorlane.
“And you wonder why I tell you this terrible story,” she said, coming back from somewhere far away and smiling faintly. “You are both going out into the world and though that is wonderful, it can also be dangerous. I know Menders has taught you both to defend yourselves, but sometimes young women simply do not see or suspect danger. They can make foolish choices, foolish mistakes. I seek to arm you, both with your knives and with the knowledge that the world as you know it can change in a moment. Live fully, but be aware.”
Both girls were silent and Princess Dorlane sat very upright.
“And to finish,” she said firmly, “I will tell you how life continued to spin out. My sister and I were taken to Samorsa and cared for by the Royal Family there. We were related you see – if you’re part of a royal family, you’re related to every other one. They’re always marrying one another. We learned the truth of The Revolt and the terrible slaughter of many people – all the royalty and aristocracy, but many other people also. Once people get the taste for killing and cruelty, it is difficult to make them stop. Fambré was in chaos for many, many years. It is troubled still.
“My sister, Princess Charina, met the Prince of Hetzophia and is now the Queen of that exotic land. I met a Prince of Mordania – your cousin Kaylen, young Katrin. He was Menders’ uncle. I married him and came here to Moresby and had my two wonderful sons. Life went on, despite the tragedy and pain of my last days in Fambré.”
“I never think of Mordania as having Princes,” Varnia said quietly. “It is always ruled by a Queen.”
“Yes, from the days of the great Glorantha,” Princess Dorlane agreed. “Always Queens with no kings or princes in sight. No boy children in the immediate Throne line allowed to live – a terrible thing, in these modern days. But thankfully male children who are more distant from the Throne are not killed, and so we have Menders, Kaymar, Dorsen and my Dorsen’s little boys as well. Borsen is also a Prince of Mordania, though from the wrong side of the blanket. They don’t make much of it, particularly Menders, but they are royalty and Princes at that.”
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 9