She began to leave the room, ready to give herself the satisfaction of banging the door for the noise it would make. Then she stopped as if frozen.
Something was gathering in her, a force, an energy, a whispering – voices. Voices of women, very faint and distant. They spoke in words she did not know or couldn’t clearly hear, but she knew what they meant.
Katrin had heard them before, from the time she was very small. They had saved her once, when a woman sent to kill her walked up behind her and pointed a gun at her while she was making soap.
You are a Princess! This woman is nothing, not of us, petty and small. We gave our blood, in battle, in childbed, to make this nation! We kept the Royal Line alive to create you. Do not let this paltry sum sway you. Show your blood, girl!
The voices were inexorable and could not be denied or ignored.
“I am Princess Katrin Morghenna of the Royal House of Mordania, Second Heiress to the Ruby Throne.” Katrin heard herself speaking in a low and terrible voice. She felt her spine draw erect, her neck straighten, so that only her eyes were inclined downward to Madame Spinta. Her blood was roaring in her ears and battle cries were echoing in her head.
“My mother is Queen Morghenna VIII. Her mother before her was Queen Morghenna VII, called The Terrible. I command you to show respect to all members of my household, including my brother, Borsen of the Thrun Royal House. Should you fail at any time to follow this command, I shall inform my mother, The Queen. Then you shall be at her mercy.”
After a moment, Madame Spinta, whose eyes were huge and round, curtseyed to the ground.
Katrin felt the clamoring voices dying away. She began to wonder just what she had done.
Through the window behind Madame, she saw Borsen, looking dumbfounded, his mouth hanging wide open. Standing with him was Doctor Franz, apparently just back from Mordania, similarly at a loss.
“By your command, Your Highness,” Madame Spinta fawned. To Katrin’s complete disgust, she sounded happy, as if she enjoyed being threatened and given royal commands.
“That is all,” Katrin wound up briskly. She turned, not bothering with the protocol that would have her offer her hand and raise the woman from her curtsey. She got out of the office but not before seeing Franz and Borsen fleeing toward the patio, hands over their mouths to choke back laughter.
In the hallway, Katrin leaned against the wall. Her head was still spinning. She was shaking.
After a moment she returned to the vineyard, where from a distance she could see Franz and Borsen re-enacting her conversation with Madame Spinta. Franz was declaiming grandly and Borsen was cringing, completing the performance with an awkward curtsy, pretending to remove his drawers from his backside afterward. Hemmett was rollicking around, roaring at the top of his voice. Katrin went to them.
“She’ll likely leave you alone now, Borsen.” She couldn’t help smiling because he was laughing helplessly.
“Oh Cuz, if only you could have seen it. You were magnificent, but she – that great swooping flop to the floor and the ‘By your command, Your Highness’. The mighty Madame Spinta!”
Menders looked up at Katrin, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses.
“Did you hearken to the voices of your ancestors – Katrin, what is it?”
She’d felt herself go pale at his words and her sight dimmed. Before she knew it, he was on his feet and she was in his chair. Menders and Doctor Franz bent over her.
“It’s just the heat,” she said loudly enough for the others to hear her, then whispered, “I need to talk to you about something later,” in Menders’ ear. He nodded and handed her a glass of water.
“Let’s hope this settles the issue,” Eiren said quietly. She firmly changed the subject, though Borsen and Hemmett had been having a wonderful time bowing toward and away from each other, being sure they collided, declaiming that they were truly majestic and regal.
“I’m also thinking that at the next university break, a visit to Fambré would be a good idea,” Menders added. “It’s much cooler there – we can get away from the heat for a while.”
“With that I concur,” Doctor Franz smiled, removing his cravat and unbuttoning his collar.
Later, when the sun was low, Menders and Katrin lingered at the table. She told him about the voices and the way she felt filled with power while they were speaking.
“No wonder you went gray when I said that,” he responded quietly, taking her hand. “What a peculiar thing.”
“Do you think I’m mad? Years ago I asked Kaymar about it because I’ve heard them at other times. He didn’t think so. He said it didn’t sound like the madness he has.”
Menders shook his head.
“You’re no more mad than I,” he replied. “Katrin, I don’t know just what might have happened but I’m sure worrying about it would be pointless. Perhaps you did respond to your ancient lineage. You were certainly provoked enough to do so. There are many things that are not explainable, little princess. Best to simply let it pass and get on with life.”
“Has anything like that ever happened to you?” Katrin asked. She was still very shaken. Menders went very quiet.
“Yes,” he finally said. “And no, I don’t know why. Best to put it from your mind, my dear. We’ll hope it keeps Madame’s behavior in check. Now, it should be time for dinner, so let’s go in and get on with the evening.” He helped her up and she took his arm. They started toward the house. Then Menders stopped her and turned toward her.
“My dear, I’m proud of you,” he said gently. “Thank you.”
Lemhos, Surelia
11
Letters to Home, Letters from Home
D
ear Vil,
Many thanks for your letter describing your wedding, but you’re still a rotter for not waiting until I could stand up for you. After all, I’m only going to be away for three years. You could have held off that long (sure, with your baby big enough by then to give you away himself.) I wish you the very best of all things in your marriage and for the little Villison on the way, who had better be named Hemmett or Hemmettina or there will be big trouble.
Both Katrin and Borsen are doing so well here that we’re probably going to extend our stay for an additional six months, which is fine with me. Surelia is great fun, even if I don’t speak their language well. All a handsome fellow like me has to do is utter a few Surelian words, look at the women like they’re the most beautiful creatures in the world, sigh a bit and they fall all over you. The wine is good too.
We’re off to Fambré in a couple of weeks. Menders wants to get Katrin out of this heat. It makes the rest of us tired but she’s downright sick a lot of the time. Gets these headaches, real skull splitters. Menders thinks the higher altitude and drier weather in Fambré will be helpful and says it’s a lot cooler there.
I’m also looking forward to Barambos. Menders is going to get us over there as well before we leave the Continent. I’d like to have a long look at Samorsa too, but Katrin’s all wild to go to Artreya, of all damn places. I truly look forward to visiting Mordania’s enemy. Every Artreyan I’ve ever run across has been a complete bastard. Can you imagine being in a whole country full of them? Blah blah cobblestoned streets, yakety yakety the opera, art galleries, museums, humpty bumpty blah, the great culture, cough.
Who gives a grundar shit? I’d rather see the Samorsan Games any day. As if there aren’t plenty of cobblestoned streets in Mordania that we have to go to Artreya and put up with the gits to see the cobblestones there? Culture doesn’t make any sense, my friend.
I was glad to hear all has been quiet and that Hemmett’s Men are managing well and getting along. Don’t let Menders’ Men try to boss you. Some of the old guard get a bit above themselves. If there is any real trouble, let me know. I can shoot across on the next boat and be there within a day or so.
My love to Petra and everyone at The Shadows.
Your friend and commander,
Hemmett
Dear Petra,
I was so glad to get your letter about the wedding! I do wish we could have been there, and I wish you much love and joy. I was so happy to hear about the baby too. How are you ever going to be able to wait for seven months until it’s born? I would die of impatience. Your wedding dress sounds lovely and I’m glad Vil shined his boots!
Borsen and I have been very busy at the university. I added two classes in philosophy this term and like them very much. My art professor has set us some very difficult assignments but we’re plugging away. Borsen continually impresses the professor. I could be consumed with envy because he’s better than me, but he’s so sweet I can’t be jealous.
Borsen has been working with a Surelian tailor too, to everyone’s amazement. He went into the tailor’s shop armed with his Tailor’s Certificate and apprenticed himself, though he isn’t doing apprentice work. The tailor was amazed at Borsen being a Guild tailor at such a young age. Borsen says he’s learning a lot. So every day after his morning classes he hops on this funny little horse Menders looked out for him and goes cantering off to slave away. To think he used to be afraid to look a goose in the eye! The girls at the university are all curious and want introductions to him because he’s so good-looking. Poor things, he’s oblivious to them and they think it’s charming shyness and try harder.
I wish you could send me some snow like you sent the autumn leaves you pressed! It’s so hot here, even in what should be the middle of winter! I’m better able to deal with it now that Eiren found us some very light undergarments, and we had some dresses made with the hems higher than we wear them in Mordania. I feel like I’m thirteen again in such a short skirt.
We’re going to Fambré during our term break and might go back later to stay a while. I want very much to see it but I can’t get that story Princess Dorlane told Varnia and me out of my head. Hemmett says there’s unrest there now, but Menders wouldn’t take us if there was real danger.
I can’t wait to see Artreya, but Menders is not in a hurry to leave here since I got Madame Spinta to stop abusing Borsen. To think all anyone had to do was go in and put on the Queen act! Some people like to feel inferior, I guess. I would never tolerate it.
I hope that you aren’t having morning sickness. Let me know what it’s like to be pregnant, I’m that curious. Love to you and Vil and everyone. Let me know all that happens.
Love,
Katrin
Dear Gladdy and Hake,
Thank you for forwarding the information you’ve received about the latest hostilities between Mordanian and Artreya. Such exchanges are so commonplace now that they are treated as background here in Surelia. I have been able to find very little accurate information about it. Rest assured – if need be, I will forgo traveling to Artreya altogether. It would be a huge disappointment for Katrin and Eiren, who are both wild to see it, but their safety is far more important than their curiosity.
Please be sure I get any and all dispatches Bartan sends you. The news you have given me regarding Aidelia is unnerving to say the least. I suspect her actions are directed by a third party, as they have been whenever she’s appeared in control of herself in the past.
All has been well here. Eiren loves the villa and all the time we can spend together. The children are thriving, learning and above all, enjoying themselves.
Borsen encountered a Surelian viper when he was running around the vineyard the other day and vaulting over the vines (which may I add, is forbidden, the devil). The snake was most annoyed at this activity (I can sympathize with the snake here) and struck at him. Borsen, accustomed to our sluggish northern reptiles, tried to elude it. He was enormously startled when the viper proceeded to pursue him diligently. He finally dispatched it with his pistol. He dragged his grisly kill, longer than he is tall, up to the house, where it was admired by one and all before he and Hemmett skinned it, as Borsen is determined to have a pair of shoes made as a trophy. Hemmett, concerned about waste, suggested we eat the meat. Varnia offered to prepare a meal from it, but was vociferously voted down by Katrin, Borsen and Eiren.
Such are the restful days of my sojourn in the south, accompanied by screams of fear, louder screams of fear, bellows of outright dismay, gunshots, whoops of triumph, loudly pronounced assertions of victory over all evil reptiles, cries of approbation and amazement, shrieks of disgust and revulsion and excited questions as to what would be the better way to cure a snakeskin, pegging it out to dry or submerging it in a basin of piss. Borsen considers me the authority on all topics. My days are so idyllic, I feel as if I’m floating on clouds of blissful rest.
Hardin and Vogel send their best wishes and are doing well. They find the work here restful and were much amused by the viper incident. This is heartening, as you know both were very fragile at the time we formed Menders’ Men. Starnor, Simmonds, and Hermann are as well as can be expected. Very unexpectedly, Varnia has quite a rapport with the more damaged residents and they enjoy her reading to them or speaking with them.
I will close for now, as I have been called to dinner three times and Hemmett is threatening to feed my portion to the dogs.
In friendship,
M
Dear Tomar, Mirin and all the little tailors,
You should have seen the enormous snake I shot in the vineyard the other day. He was seven feet long and had fangs as long as my little finger. I was walking around the vineyard when he struck at me and met his sudden end at my hand.
Hemmett and I have skinned him and have his hide streched out on pegs where the dogs can’t get to it and once that’s done and I’ve softened it I will have shoes made from it. I could probably get a belt and moneybag from it as well, it’s that large even though Hemmett says that’s only because I have tiny feet. He’s only jealous because they have to use the hide of an entire borag to make boots for those deformities he calls feet.
I have informally apprenticed myself to a Surelian tailor here. I went in and asked him if he would take some unpaid help and told him about myself and my skills and explained that I wanted to learn about Surelian tailoring. I expected him to chase me from the shop but insted he plopped a piece of cloth, needle and thread on the counter and told me to show him a seam, a buttonhole and a simple hem.
No challenge for such a smart boy of course and within the hour he was explaning the secret of Surelian linings to me. They hang them differently from the way we do and their method leads to less tearing and twisting so it will be a very useful thing to know. In return I showed him some things he didn’t know about his sewing machine, which he isn’t using nearly as much as he could.
The Surelian style in men’s jackets has a deep cut front and wasp waist at the moment and you can be assured I have ordered no less than six of these for myself, being a young man of means and a small waist. When I return to Mordania, I will dazzle all and copy the style with my own notions for making it more wearable.
The trouser style of the moment is quite loose cut in the leg with a very tight cuff and high tight waist with pleats, in keeping with the wasp waisting on the jackets. Stunning if you are built like Kaymar, Uncle or myself but ghastly on anyone built large. Ifor tried a pair on the other day and laughed so hard he was staggering all around the tailor shop and the tailor was furious and drove him out. With his blocky build he looked like a grundar wearing pants. Kaymar on the other hand has purchased three such Surelian suits and is devastating in them, though he was beside himself when Hemmett spilled an entire plate of Surelian shellfish in red sauce right down the back of the suit he had just had made in white silk. He tore it off right away and after soaking the suit in cold water and repeated scrubbings and sun bleaching it looks new again. Kaymar refuses to be anywhere near Hemmett when Hemmett has food in hand now.
It’s good to be tailoring again. I have missed it. I’m afraid a life of leisure and continual playing and amusement wouldn’t be very good for me and I’m glad to have some work to do. I’m going to try to do the same sort of thing when we’re in
Artreya, though I will say frankly that I don’t think much of Artreyan fashion and all that absurd braid they slap on top of everything, thinking it gives their poorly cut and fitted clothing dash.
I miss all of you very much. Hugs all round.
Borsen
Dear Mama, Papa and Everyone,
Thank you so much for your letter of last week. Bertel brought the mail to us and told us the additional news that Sana has had to close down school because of the extremely snowy weather. Let us hope that it will not be a closed winter. It’s very hard to even contemplate snow and ice when there is not so much as a frost on the ground in the mornings here. The days are very warm to hot and the nights not much cooler. Poor Katrin is still suffering from the heat and we’re sure at this point she is not going to become acclimated, though she’s been more comfortable since we found lighter clothing for her
In answer to your question, Varnia is improving a great deal. At first she was quite withdrawn, once the excitement of the journey on the ship was past and she found herself here where most people do not speak Mordanian. Menders and I have worked with her on Surelian and included her in some of our activities, as she was unwilling to try the University. She gravitates to people who are older and is more comfortable with adult pursuits. It will be a matter of time for her to come out of her shell. We make sure she knows we are available should she need help or wish to confide anything.
We will be going to Fambré within the month and I will write at great length about all we see there. Menders, in particular, is wild to see some of the old buildings and famous gardens – as am I!
I hope all of you are well, and look forward to your next letter.
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 12