“They always seem to be close to roads or railways,” Kaymar added. “The road near The Shadows is an ancient one – supposedly the route Glorantha took to drive out the Surelians.”
“Really?” Katrin looked at him, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know that!”
“It’s one of the legends, that Glorantha took the road down the coast – and it is an ancient road. When we’re back home I’ll take you down toward Rondstein. There’s a place where part of the road washed out and rather than repair it, new roadwork was routed around it,” Menders told her. “You can see there are different layers of roadwork with different materials.”
“But Giants way down here? How could ancient people make the ones in Mordania and then go all this way to make more Giants here?” Katrin asked.
Menders could only shake his head.
“The Giants have confounded many scientists and historians,” Eiren said. “We should keep watch for more of them, maybe even keep a record of any that we see.”
Katrin, now that The Giants were fading into the distance, ransacked her bags until she found her journal. She sat down and started scribbling.
Menders smiled and escorted Eiren back to their seats.
“I think her world just became a lot larger,” he said softly.
“Indeed,” Eiren agreed, smiling as she watched Katrin’s industry. One of their regrets was how Katrin’s title circumscribed her life. Her childhood had been frustrating, once she was old enough to understand how her life differed the lives of other children.
There had been true danger to Katrin many times in their early years at The Shadows. She was barely six months old when the Queen sent a certain Madame Holz, Royal Head Nurse, to assure that Katrin was properly “toughened”, a cruel regimen of deprivation and punishment inflicted on the children of the Mordanian aristocracy and the Royal Family. Supposedly, toughening created strong individuals. Instead, it produced bullies, masochists and broken souls.
Menders dispensed with Madame Holz once she refused his offers to finance her retirement abroad. He even tempted her with the deed to his Surelian villa – the penultimate move in what had become a game of cat and mouse with the sadistic nurse. Upon her refusal of his final offer, a swift kick from the Surelian Solution sent Madame Holz down the stairs, eliminating that problem.
That was the beginning. Over the last sixteen years, there had been various coup attempts where Katrin, the Queen and Princess Aidelia were targeted by assassins. For Katrin to safely leave The Shadows to attend Hemmett’s graduation, Menders had to order the elimination of a number of Mordanian aristocrats and members of the merchant class. Menders’ Men, teamed with covert agents from the Palace and Gladdas Dalmanthea’s Girls, had spread out across Mordania’s capital, Erdahn, on the eve of the graduation ceremonies. In the course of one spring night, their combined forces put an end to a number of people who had spent years plotting to kill the Queen and her two daughters.
Menders sighed to himself. The amount of effort and stress invested in the past year had been staggering. He was approaching his thirty-seventh birthday and felt the toll far more than he once would have. He’d never taken killing or ordering someone to kill lightly, but as he grew older, it became an increasing burden
“Such a sigh, Mister Shvalz,” Eiren teased him, using his family name while putting her hand over his.
“I’m not Shvalz, that’s the blond fellow over there,” Menders teased back, indicating Kaymar, who was keeping watch on the connecting doors between their carriage and the one ahead while appearing to lounge in his seat beside Ifor.
“Oh, I heard you were one too,” she smiled.
“Menders is good enough for me,” he answered.
“Then I’ll call you Mister Menders,” Eiren smiled.
Menders realized he was being a killjoy while she was trying to keep things happy and light. He gave himself a mental shake and looked over at Katrin. She was still working eagerly over her journal, chatting with Borsen, who had come to sit beside her.
“You may indeed, Mistress Menders.” He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as he pointed out the first of the purpling luxen flower fields in the distance.
“And there’s where we’ll be for a few days,” he told her. “Right in the middle of the perfume industry.”
Eiren smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.
***
“Incredible,” Ifor murmured, holding the dogs’ leads as he, Kaymar, Katrin and Borsen paused on a hilltop and looked out over the most spectacular scenery any of them had ever seen.
Fragrant luxen shrubs laden with deep purple, fragrant flowers were wedged into every arable inch of a very rolling country scene. They foamed around massive boulders and fallen trees, covering almost all the ground down to the wildly crashing Great Southern Ocean. A few fields of yellow mustard broke the undulating waves of purple. A backdrop of craggy, deep blue mountains, the “spine” of this southernmost peninsula of Fambré, completed a stunning landscape. The scent of the luxen was dazzling.
Dara, Katrin’s boarhound, whined to be released from her leash so she could run, but Ifor spoke gently to her.
They had found the atmosphere of Fambré was conducive to visitors allowing a very large dog run free over farmland. Dara was trained not to harass livestock, but she was safer restrained.
Katrin was horrified by the poverty of so many Fambrian people. She’d seen poverty in Mordania, of course. At The Shadows Menders improved the lives of the tenant farmers and was open to helping anyone in the district who asked, but farming in the far north country was difficult and most farmers lived on a fine edge between solvency and disaster.
There were also poor people in Mordania’s cities. Katrin had seen them when she visited Erdstrom or Rondstein. Their situation was even worse. She was ashamed of this and wished she had the power to change things. She was also ashamed of her mother, who never left the Palace and obviously had no notion of the terrible suffering in her own nation.
All that was as nothing compared to Fambré.
The countryside was beautiful and Katrin had loved visiting the perfumeries and wineries. Everywhere she turned, some scene would make her heart throb with the aching beauty of it all. But the moment they neared a village or town, the crowds of beggars were everywhere. Their clothing was undefinable, gray clumps of ragged cloth. Many had terrible sores, infected eyes, huge lumps on their jaws speaking of unattended, abscessed teeth.
The poor children were pitiful, sluggishly animated skeletons. Swollen bellies, like Borsen’s when he first came to The Shadows, were everywhere. The mothers who held the starving babies were silent and staring.
The first time Katrin encountered this, she handed out every pennig she had within moments, then saw that everyone in their party was doing the same thing. The poor people mobbed them, hands outstretched. When the money was gone the beggars swore and turned away, while those fortunate enough to have received something ran toward food carts or shops.
Katrin wept as she desperately searched her pockets and purse for anything to give a mother with a baby – a girl younger than herself who cradled a pitiful bundle of bones Katrin wasn’t even sure was breathing. The mother’s whispered pleas for help needed no translation as Katrin turned her bag and pockets inside out, searching for anything she could give. Doctor Franz stepped up and handed the poor girl the last money he had with him. Then Menders herded everyone into the hotel, where the door attendants, which Katrin found later were at every hotel to keep the beggars out, rapidly closed and bolted the doors behind them.
The hotel manager tried to apologize for the crush of beggars, but Menders cut him off brusquely and hustled everyone upstairs to their suite. There Katrin sank down on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. Her head was spinning and she felt violently ill.
“Here Cuz.” Borsen sat beside her with a cold, wet washcloth and moved her hands away from her face. He wiped her forehead and cheeks and then cl
eaned her hands, which reeked from contact with the hands of the people in the street.
“Oh Borsen – how? How can people let that go on?” she asked.
“When you’re that poor – you’re an object to them. Or invisible,” he answered quietly. “You aren’t anything more. People can get used to anything, Katrin, and the people here have gotten used to those poor souls in the streets.”
Varnia, who could make a pot of tea faster than anyone on Eirdon, came over with a cup.
“No protests,” she said firmly, putting it down by Katrin. “You drink it.”
Kaymar was going through his pockets. Then he shook his head.
“I gave away everything I had, including my watch,” he said with a mirthless laugh. “I am so glad I couldn’t talk my mother into coming with us. If she’d seen that, she would have died of sorrow.”
“Or she would have gotten roaring mad,” Varnia snapped. Kaymar raised his eyebrows.
“She might at that. She can wield a pretty wicked sunshade when she gets riled enough, as my arse can testify,” he replied.
Katrin was horrified to hear herself laugh at the image of Princess Dorlane walloping Kaymar across the backside with her elegant sunshade. Though there was still a hard, painful knot in her chest just below her collarbone, the laughter eased some of the hotness and pressure in her head.
“It wasn’t a family watch, was it?” Eiren asked, coming in from her room.
“No, just a frippery,” Kaymar assured her. “Ifor will get me another, as soon as he sends to the bank for more cash.”
“That’s where Menders has gone – to have a draft drawn. I’m glad he transferred funds here before we left Surelia.” Eiren sat on the other side of Katrin, deliberately picking up the cup of tea and handing it to her.
“You need to drink this,” she insisted. “It will help.”
“Have you ever…” Katrin asked, her voice shaking so she couldn’t continue.
Eiren shook her head.
“No, nothing like that,” she answered. “Some of The Shadows’ farmers were desperately poor before you came to live there and Menders organized things properly. There was hunger and disease, but everyone who had something helped out and there was always game and wild foods available. The situation here is abominable.”
Katrin sipped the tea. It did make her feel better. Doctor Franz came over and put a couple of drops of ramplane in it. Her breathing eased and the pain in her chest went away. The love and attention should have comforted her, but all she could think was that those people in the street had no comfort or help.
Menders insisted on an early dinner and bed for them all. Everyone was on edge and upset. Kaymar kept stalking to the window and looking out. Katrin couldn’t bring herself to. She wanted to snatch up everything of value in the hotel suite and run out into the street with it, to give it to those in need. She choked down what dinner she could and was grateful for the warmth of her bed.
She wanted to ask why those people were given no help, no charity or means to help themselves – but she knew the answer. Those who had the power to change things, to make things better, to ease the lots of those desperate and starving people, simply did not care. And in Fambré, that meant the King.
The next morning she woke late to the sound of Menders tapping on the door and then letting himself into her room. He carried a cup of coffee and a plate with a pastry on it.
“Good morning, little princess.” Putting the breakfast on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of her bed. He took out his wallet and counted out some bills – the amount she had received as her monthly allowance from her account when they arrived in Fambré.
“No – I gave my money away freely,” Katrin protested.
“I know. We all did. But practicality says we need money while we’re here – otherwise, we’d be unable to pay for food or lodging, we couldn’t move about. Going without it would do nothing for the starving mobs out there. I will make arrangements to provide some help for them.”
Katrin sat up further against her pillows, curious.
“What I plan to do,” Menders went on, “is to locate places in the country we can rent for a few days or weeks at a time. I’d like you to see something of Fambré, Katrin.”
“Haven’t I seen enough?” She picked up the dish with the pastry and felt no desire to eat it.
“No,” Menders answered firmly. “Though traveling is usually associated with pleasant experiences and beautiful sights, that isn’t all I want you to take away from this journey. Sometimes facing the cruel truths about human nature is part of being exposed to new experiences. I would be doing you a disservice to buy tickets on the next train out of here – though I will admit that was my initial impulse.”
Katrin bit into the pastry and washed it down with a swallow of coffee. Both were excellent. Her appetite, always very strong, began to come back.
“Menders – what can be done for those people?” she asked.
“We have little power here – no, we have no power here,” he answered. “It isn’t like life at The Shadows, where I can intervene when people fall on hard times, doing it anonymously if they’re proud. We aren’t citizens and we can bring no pressure on the King.”
“I’m a Mordanian Princess. Could I speak to the King? We’re related through Princess Dorlane.”
She was startled when Menders’ eyes filled abruptly with tears. He cleared his throat and flicked a finger under his glasses, wiping at his eyes.
“I’m very proud of you for thinking of that, but I can’t take the risk of someone at the Fambrian Court seeing your resemblance to your mother,” he replied, removing his glasses and taking out a handkerchief. “Anonymity is your greatest protection, Katrin, particularly here.”
He perused her with the intent gaze that his uncorrected vision required if he were to focus at all.
“Considering what I know of the King, it would do no good,” he continued. “He might be amused. Like his brother before him, he does not acknowledge the situation in Fambré. Because of this, he will go the way of his brother, at the hands of these people. After seeing the situation here, it will be sooner than anyone outside of Fambré expects.”
“I feel terrible holidaying here, Menders.”
“Think of it as education then,” he answered. “You’re a member of a Royal Family. There is a lesson to be learned right in front of you. It’s easy to say ‘help them’, but how? How to go about it? What must change? These are the things to ponder, little princess.”
He replaced his glasses and stood. “Finish your breakfast – there is more where that came from. Then we’ll plan what we’re going to do. I’ll take you along when I go to make a donation to a feeding station that is being set up as we speak.”
“Did you do that since yesterday?” Katrin asked in amazement.
“I sought out people who already work to help the poor here,” he answered. “I’ve made it possible to extend their reach. Kaymar will contact his mother, who can alert those in the aristocracy here who would like to avoid a second Revolt and Terror.”
Katrin had gone with him that day and seen the hall being outfitted to feed many. Menders made a large donation and pledged more, as well as more from people in Mordania. She admired the kitchen being set up and spoke with the handsome, intense priest of Galanth in charge of the operation, Abbot Fahrin.
“Could you arrange a place where they can wash and perhaps clean their clothing?” she asked. “Is there a doctor who could see them?”
“We can do these things – one of my brother priests is a doctor,” he answered, looking at her closely.
“I would like to donate the cost,” she explained. She drew out her purse, taking out a generous sum.
“So much?” he asked. “How do you come by this?”
Katrin laughed a little. “At home I make soap and sell it. I also help my brother manage our goats and sell the milk. My father helps me invest my profits,” she answered. “I haven’t been
milking while we’re traveling, but I do have a milkmaid’s hands.”
She held them out for his perusal. Abbot Fahrin took them, turned them over and back, saw the strong muscling and tested her grip jokingly. He laughed along with her.
“Indeed, you’ve milked many a goat,” he agreed. “Thank you for your help. It is cherished. It means more when the person giving has worked for the money, though I will take any donations to help our desperate brothers and sisters. Let me show you where we can make arrangements for them to wash.”
Since then, they had stayed in homes and small travelers’ inns in country locations. They still saw many poverty stricken country people but they had, as Eiren said, access to game and wild foods and were able to grow gardens. They were poor, but not starving. It was the villages and towns with few resources to be scavenged where the horrible starvation and desperation reigned. Katrin didn’t want to imagine the misery that must be going on in the densely populated cities.
Now Katrin stood on the hillside, looking at the breathtaking view. She was able to enjoy it, despite knowing that her donation and Menders’ were drops in the bucket. Still, those they helped were helped. Perhaps they were doing some lasting good.
“Let’s walk for a while,” Borsen suggested, reaching for his own boarhound’s lead. “Give the dogs a little exercise. We can keep looking at the sights.”
The shifting colors and light kept them occupied for a good half mile, but then Kaymar drew up shortly.
“Time to go back,” he announced, sounding cheerful.
“We haven’t eaten yet,” Borsen protested, but then followed the line of Kaymar’s gaze. He shortened Magic’s lead and turned immediately.
Katrin saw a large group of men gathered around another man who was standing on a stone, speaking loudly.
“Now, Katrin,” Ifor commanded in a low tone. Though she was intensely curious, she turned away, taking Dara’s lead. She could hear the man speaking, but the wind was against him and she couldn’t make out his words.
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 14