“Then we won’t tell Franz,” Hemmett agreed, closing and pocketing the packet. “Many thanks, Kay.”
“Not to mention it. She’s not getting better with what Franz is doing. I know it’s the accepted medical method, but it just can’t go on. Menders told me about what you’re planning to do and gave his blessing for this medicine. Just don’t let Sawbones know about it.” Kaymar grinned like a wicked schoolboy and lit one of his own cigars. “I left the window open for a reason, Zee.”
“Yes, with the three of you, it would be most thick in here,” she said, folding the little dress and setting it aside. “I’m weary tonight, so it’s off to bed with me.”
“I’ll be shortly after you,” Lucen said as she made her way from the room.
***
Menders watched Hemmett as he took over Katrin’s eating and exercise regimens. His plan to cure Katrin was unusual and in opposition to everything modern medical science recommended – and it was working.
Hemmett put a stop to Katrin spending most of her time in bed, as had become her habit, insisting that being in the open air was what she needed. He helped her to walk each day, letting her move along alone as much as she could, then offering an arm so that she could go further. When she was tired and didn’t feel up to walking, he carried her. He set up a sofa on the terrace and a chaise in the garden, and would walk or carry her to either. Then he would sit with her while she absorbed sunshine and fresh air.
He insisted, if the weather was warm, that she expose as many of her still-infected wounds to the sun as possible, helping her push up her sleeves or skirt, cradling her injured limbs with carefully placed pillows. If a wound became filled with pus, he would open it for her so she didn’t have to wait for Franz. He wiped away the evil smelling, ropey discharge as if he had neither sight nor sense of smell. He bathed the drained wounds thoroughly and had Katrin keep them in the sunlight as long as she could.
Katrin now drank several glasses of fresh milk a day as well as two glasses of red wine. Hemmett told her that wine would help her body make blood. He also coaxed her into eating a little more each day, persuading her to swallow eggs, cheese and meat. She protested at first that they were too coarse for her to swallow. Hemmett cut them up fine or whipped up batches of Lucen’s broth with egg stirred in at the boiling point.
Soon Katrin was eating with appetite. Menders realized that the accepted medical practice of feeding her an invalid diet and his own reluctance to push her into anything she didn’t want because of his own pain and guilt about her situation, had been in error. She needed to rebuild her destroyed body. Hemmett’s ministrations were what she required to do just that.
Franz saw the improvement and ceremoniously burned a certain medical book about the care of invalids in his fireplace.
“It works. Bless the man, it works,” he said. “Who am I to say it should be otherwise? Feed her as much as she can hold, keep her outside, help her exercise and I believe nature will do the rest. I’ve never been loath to admit when I’m wrong – and invalid food and rest were wrong.”
He grinned out the window where Hemmett was hilariously serenading Katrin and Varnia with an naughty soldier’s song, with Borsen and Willem joining in the choruses while performing an impromptu sailor’s dance involving comical collisions. Katrin’s laughter floated over the garden and through the window as Varnia slyly pelted the men with fallen flower petals.
“Unhealthy lungs can’t laugh,” Franz murmured. “Having The Knot all together again is helping too. Keeps her mind off of things.”
“I was thinking a trip to the seashore at the warmest part of the summer,” Menders said, joining him in watching the young people.
“Excellent suggestion, I’d love it,” Franz teased back, and they grinned at each other. No-one had felt like joking for a long while. “It would be an excellent thing for her. Sea water will clean those wounds like nothing else and the warmth and sun would be a great help, as would a change of scene. We all could use a break, for that matter. It’s been a hellish year.”
***
The Shadows, Mordania
5
Voice of the Princess
O
ne afternoon when Hemmett was on perimeter duty and Borsen was contending with a backlog of mending, Varnia sat with Katrin as she rested on the chaise in the garden between walks around the rose beds. Varnia was reading to her. Katrin’s eyes were bleary with a recent infection and her arms were still too weak to hold a book for long. She was becoming restless, so Varnia closed the book and put it down.
“Enough for one day?” she asked. Katrin nodded and smiled at her.
“Thank you for reading to me,” she said softly.
“I love to read aloud,” Varnia answered. “It’s no chore.”
“Bloody toy soldiers! Never one around when you need him!”
Katrin and Varnia looked around to see two Menders’ Men walking down the hallway to the Rose Garden.
“What?” Katrin asked. “Toy soldiers? They can’t mean real toy soldiers.”
Varnia was silent. Katrin could see she was clenching her teeth.
“Tell me,” Katrin urged.
“It’s what Menders’ Men have started to call Hemmett’s Guard,” Varnia burst out. “They ridicule them because some of them haven’t seen action.”
“What! Villison has, so have several of the others!” Katrin cried. “That’s nonsense!”
“I think it’s because Hemmett hasn’t seen action,” Varnia explained. “It’s been very ugly since you were hurt. They think he’s weak because his mind was ill after that day and because he cried when your hair… came out.”
“Of all the stupid, cruel things!” Katrin was indignant. Her cheeks flared bright pink. “Hemmett helped get those metal rods out of me on the boat and he and Menders were afraid for weeks that the Queen would send troops here and take us all back to be executed. No wonder his mind was deranged for a while! We’re close, Varnia, we’ve been together since I was born!”
“Shhh now, don’t upset yourself like this.”
“It’s good for me! I feel alive instead of half dead like an old root that’s been dug up. I’ll put a stop to this! How dare they!”
Varnia kept her from standing.
“Wait a moment. You need to know all of it before you fly off the handle and go ramming around,” she said fiercely. “A lot of it is because he asked you to marry him and then went right back to Luntigré. They were angry that you were upset, especially when you’re so ill. I think they believed he was being unfaithful to Luntigré and that going back to her meant he wasn’t really serious about you.”
Varnia suddenly looked relieved.
“You’ve known about this for a while, haven’t you?” Katrin asked quietly. Varnia nodded.
“What a bunch of old women – Menders’ Men indeed!” Katrin fumed, shaking her head. “What possible business of theirs – Hemmett was deadly serious when he asked me to marry him. So serious that just for a moment, I almost said ‘yes’.”
“I wouldn’t blame you,” Varnia replied. “He loves you like life – to say nothing that he’s handsome as the morning, as Menders would say.”
Katrin didn’t voice the thought she’d often had – that Varnia and Hemmett would make a wonderful couple. Varnia was steadfast in saying that she would never marry and Katrin wouldn’t tease her about that, no matter how lovingly.
“As for them poking their noses into Hemmett being with Luntigré, that is absolutely none of their affair,” she fumed. “Hemmett and she have their understanding and it works well for them both. It’s wonderful for Flori.”
“That’s what Vil said to them,” Varnia nodded.
“Vil? Something else that went on?’
“He had a big set-to with a bunch of them in the Men’s Lounge,” Varnia explained. “They were cutting Hemmett down, ridiculing how he got so sick after you were hurt. Vil pitched right into them and then one of them, that nasty Vartok character,
called him a toy soldier. Then Vartok got mouthy with Kaymar, who threw him off the place.”
Katrin stood abruptly.
“Help me,” she said succinctly. “I want to go into the dining room. Then I want to see all of Menders Men – actually, I want to see everyone in the entire damn house!”
“Wait, take my arm! We don’t need you falling,” Varnia gasped. “And how am I to get everyone in the house?”
“Ring the damn bell!”
***
There was a bell at The Shadows that was rung only under extreme circumstances. It summoned everyone within earshot to the Great Hall for instructions. In Katrin’s lifetime, it had only been rung twice, once when an assassin was found on the grounds, when she was taken into the strongroom while the area was cleared, and once when there was a fire, which was rapidly extinguished by those who responded.
Now Katrin sat in the dining room, waiting. Varnia was ringing the bell with all her might. Katrin could hear the accumulating sound of many footsteps as people rushed to the Great Hall. There was a rising babble as they found only Varnia waiting there – at least until Hemmett’s voice rang out, calling them to silence.
“All right, Varnia,” Katrin said as loudly as she could.
She knew she looked terrible – her face gaunt, her wounds showing, as she’d had them open to the sun as she and Varnia sat in the Rose Garden.
Suddenly she pulled off her wig and set it aside. Let them see the truth.
Varnia came in, closely followed by Menders, Eiren and Hemmett, who rushed to her. Menders bent over her.
“What is it, my dear?” he asked gently.
“I’m going to dress some people down,” she answered, squeezing his hand. “Not you.”
“Darling, your wig?” Eiren asked, reaching out to help her with it.
“Let them see,” Katrin responded, holding her bald head up proudly.
“Willow?” Hemmett looked down at her with concern.
“We’re about to have a little talk about toy soldiers. Actually, I’m going to have the talk, people are going to listen.” Her eyes met his.
Hemmett straightened up and saluted.
“Yes, Your Highness,” he said proudly. Then he stood at attention beside her.
She looked at the gathering crowd and was annoyed to see some of Menders’ Men were angry. Cook was giving one of them a stern look. Villison was watching them like a hawk. Kaymar and Ifor stood off to the side together, Kaymar looking amused, Ifor impervious.
“Hemmett?” she asked quietly. “Shut them up.”
“Be upstanding for Her Royal Highness, Princess Katrin Morghenna of Mordania!” Hemmett bellowed.
The room fell silent. For the first time, people were looking toward Katrin rather than jabbering amongst themselves. They found that she was looking at them. Those who remembered Morghenna the Terrible found her gaze disconcertingly familiar. Others were stunned by her lack of hair – of course they knew about it, but she never appeared without one of her artfully made wigs. Even more were horrified by the lurid, seeping wounds that showed on her arms and at her collarbones.
“I have a few words to say about toy soldiers,” she said, pushing as much breath into her voice as she could. “I also have a few words to say about gossip.”
There was shuffling in the group before her. Some averted their eyes.
Katrin held out her hand toward Luntigré and Flori, who had come back with Hemmett after his latest trip to Samorsa. When they were beside her, she put an arm around Flori’s shoulders and smiled up at Luntigré.
“Vil, Petra, come up, bring the children. Cook, beside me as well, please. Doctor dear, you too. Kaymar, Ifor, come up. Borsen, you took your time.”
Borsen and Tomar had rushed in the door.
“Sewed my sleeve to a sheet when I heard the bell,” he said, looking around in surprise. “Tomar had to cut me loose.”
“Please, both of you, come stand with us,” Katrin invited. “Lucen, Zelia, over here by Hemmett, please.” Her eyes scanned the crowd of people and settled on one. “Willem – you too.”
With people arranged to her purpose, Katrin began to speak to the people standing opposite.
“I overheard two Menders’ Men calling Hemmett’s Guard ‘toy soldiers’ only a few minutes ago. I’ve also learned that you ridicule the Captain of my Guard because he became ill after helping me escape from the Palace. This is not going to continue.
“Any one of you who does not wish to show Captain Greinholz full respect as a man and as the commanding officer of my official Guard can get out of my house and off my estate now.”
She stared at the knot of Menders’ Men, noticing how they stood together, away from Hemmett’s Guard and the rest of the household. Disconcerting.
“Does any of you want to admit that you have been disrespectful enough to gossip about any of Hemmett’s Guard?” she asked, looking from one Menders’ Man to another. There was silence.
Haakel stepped forward.
“I have,” he said bluntly. “I was very angry when he upset you so much a while back.”
“You? Haakel, you spent years with us, you were our guard when we were children and split the job with Kaymar after he came. How could you say that? You know Hemmett better than most of the men in this room.” Katrin looked steadily at him.
“I do and I’m going to be apologizing to him personally,” Haakel answered, holding his head up. “And to Villison and the rest of the Guard. As well as to you, Tadpole.”
Katrin very nearly smiled as she heard the old nickname he’d given her when she was three, but all she had to do was flex her wrist a little. The pain from her open wounds took away the urge.
“I’ll talk to you later, Bullfrog,” Haakel said directly to Hemmett, who nodded formally.
“Please come up and stand with us,” Katrin said to him. He smiled with relief and walked over to stand by her.
“I know Haakel is not the only one,” Katrin continued, not wanting everyone to start smiling and getting comfortable. “I will not have factions here, gentlemen. I will be speaking to Menders, the commanding officer for both Menders’ Men and Hemmett’s Guard, about a restructuring of how things are done. Let me assure you, we will not hesitate to transfer or even dismiss anyone who persists in this sort of divisive behavior.”
Katrin reached over for Menders’ and Eiren’s hands.
“Now, I am going to explain, very clearly, my relationships to the people standing beside me and I hope that will help everyone here to understand why I do not consider family to be only a matter of blood tie,” she said, looking at her household. “My family is large and it is open to addition – if being added is earned.
“Menders and Eiren are my father and mother. They were there from the beginning, when the Queen placed me under Menders’ care. Both of them have risked their lives for my sake and have loved and nurtured me as true parents.”
Menders placed his hand on her shoulder. Eiren bent and kissed her cheek before they stepped back, as Katrin was reaching her hand out for Varnia.
“This is my sister,” she said to the crowd. “My brave and bold sister who never fails to protect the helpless and weak. She would stand between a cannon’s mouth and the ones she loves without flinching.”
Her eyes met Borsen’s and he went to her.
“This is my brother. He has nursed me and sat by me for hours during my illness, keeping me from despair. He is one of the most giving and hardworking members of this household and my most patient and understanding friend.”
She gestured to Villison and Petra and their children. When Villison was close, she took his hand and then Petra’s.
“These are my brother and sister – one of my newest friends and one of my oldest,” she said, smiling at them. “They’ve been entrusted with knowledge that few have and that could endanger their lives. They’ve never flinched or swerved. Their little boy, Arden, is my beloved nephew.”
Katrin reached out to the smilin
g toddler and held him close while he ran his hands wonderingly over her bald scalp.
“Soft!” he shouted. Petra gathered him up, kissing Katrin before she stepped back.
Katrin turned in her chair and gestured to Kaymar and Ifor.
“I have been privileged to have many fathers,” she continued. “Kaymar and Ifor have been tireless guards, teachers and friends. Between them they stopped an assassin who was determined to kill me and my entire family by endangering their own lives.
“Hake is another father,” she continued, smiling up at him and taking his hand. “He endured endless hours of tadpole hunting during the years he has been with me and is a steadfast friend – and he knows when to admit that he was wrong. All is forgiven, my dear.”
Haakel’s eyes smiled back at her as she released his hand.
“Lucen, Zelia, step up here. Not only do I have more than one father, like Lucen here, who was my first Guard – I also have more than one mother. Zelia is one. She’s nursed me tirelessly during my illness, to say nothing of giving me more than twenty years of loving care and concern.
“Cook?” Katrin turned to Cook, who was shamelessly wiping away tears. She took Katrin’s outstretched hand. “How many hours of care Cook has given me,” she said, looking up at the stout woman. “Love, patience, discipline, reminders to watch my language and an endless supply of spice cookies. Her son, Tomar, I consider my brother – our patient tailor who came here when we were all but out of our clothing, who trained Borsen to become the youngest Guild Tailor on Eirdon.”
Willem was next. They exchanged a smile.
“My brother and friend, Willem, proven to be brave, patient, forgiving and vigilant,” Katrin said. “He’s lightened my illness with many hours of companionship and has shown understanding and tolerance beyond anyone I’ve ever met.”
She turned toward Luntigré, who was watching with glistening eyes. Their hands met.
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 39