Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series

by Tove Foss Ford

  “You’re such a pretty girl,” Katrin said, stroking the fawn colored neck. She’d missed caring for the goats so much! She had always loved their odd yellow eyes with the horizontal slit pupils, their mealy noses and endlessly grinding jaws. Each one was a character, as unique as people. She’d missed the crop of kids being born this year, though Borsen would smuggle them into the house and put them on the bed when they were tiny and new.

  “All right, silly girl,” Borsen said to the goat, who jumped up on the stand and began to eat the measure of grain he’d put into the bowl there. Borsen sat and washed the goat’s udder, then began to milk.

  Katrin listened to the familiar sound of milk streaming into the pail and tried to remember the last time she’d milked – and couldn’t. She was so out of things at The Shadows now! Cook had taken over the chickens for her, as Borsen had taken over the goats. Being an invalid had become her life. She was tired of it.

  As Borsen was milking the last goat, Katrin stood up.

  “Let me have a try, Cuz,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve milked her halfway. I can probably manage.”

  The goat was an easy milker but Borsen looked dubious.

  “It’s no trouble for me to finish,” he said.

  “Borsen, I know it isn’t. I want to.”

  He hesitated, then yielded the milking stand to her.

  Katrin settled in the familiar position, her shoulder against the goat’s side, her fingers closing on the rubbery teats. It wasn’t easy. The muscles in her arms and hands were slack and weak but the rhythm came back to her quickly. She was able to milk the goat out.

  “You should do this every day!” Borsen said excitedly as he opened the pen for the goat and settled her for the night.

  “I intend to, because I want you to go to Erdahn,” Katrin answered. She didn’t look at him, but occupied herself in putting the covers on the milk pails.

  “Do you want me to go get something for you in Erdahn?” Borsen asked bewilderedly.

  She held a hand out to him and had him sit next to her on the stand.

  “No, I want you to go and find a place and get started on your establishment,” she said.

  She saw it, the smallest flicker of relief in his face, immediately crowded out by concern and hurt.

  “It’s the time you always planned to go. We’re going to be twenty-one this winter,” Katrin continued. “I know you’re staying here because of me and I don’t want that, Borsen. I want you to have your chance.”

  “It can wait a while, another year or two,” Borsen argued.

  “Or five? Or ten? Or never?” Yes, she saw fear, a flicker of it. He had thought of this but he’d hidden it well.

  “I thought I was helping you,” he said, rising and walking over to the goat pens, where the does came to stand with their feet on the gate to be petted.

  “You do help me, but I want you to go. You’ve worked so hard for this, Borsen. You shouldn’t let it go now.”

  “I’m not letting it go!” He turned toward her, angry. “You can’t tell me you don’t want me to stay with you!”

  Katrin closed her eyes. Borsen could make you think that he was easygoing, gentle, even a pushover, until you came up against that determination of his. Then he was a firebrand.

  “Of course I would…” she began.

  “I don’t want anyone sacrificing themselves for my sake,” Borsen said fiercely. “I don’t ever want that to happen again.” His voice was so rough that the goats backed away fearfully. Contrite, he held out his hands to them and they came close, nibbling at his jacket cuffs and pushing their muzzles into his palms.

  Katrin waited, wondering if he would explain, but he said no more.

  “Borsen,” she finally said in the stillness, broken only by the contented cudding of the goats, “I don’t want people sacrificing themselves for my sake either, so you should understand. Menders is here because he was commanded to be. Hemmett has always wanted to be the Captain of my Guard and to be posted here. But your dreams take you to Erdahn. Though you are very dear to me and I’d hate to see you go, I think you should. I don’t want you to be sucked into being a Royal House hanger-on, Borsen. It’s hard enough that my life isn’t entirely my own because I’m the Princess, without seeing you give up your life for my sake.”

  Borsen stubbornly kept his back to her and Katrin felt a flare of irritation. She squelched it immediately. She also had that deep determination which some people called stubborness. She knew genuine caring and honesty could break it down.

  “Borsen, you’re the youngest Guild Tailor in the history of Mordania, possibly in the whole world,” she said. “You’ve wanted to have your own establishment in Erdahn for as long as I’ve known you, even before you came to The Shadows. I am so grateful for what you’ve done. You’ve made my illness so much easier for me to bear than it would have been if you weren’t here. You’ve put aside what you want out of the purest of motives – but I’m getting better now. Please, let me let you go, Borsen. I want so much to be able to walk into your establishment one day and say to myself, ‘my brother did this because he’s talented and took his opportunity when it came’.”

  Borsen propped a foot on the lower bar of the goats’ pen and leaned his chin in his hands.

  “Who would help you with the goats?” he said gruffly. “This has always been our project. There’s no way you can milk them all out yet, especially not Old Cow. She’s milking out over a gallon a day and her old tits are like trying to squeeze iron.”

  “Hemmett can help me.”

  “He milks like he’s trying to ring a temple bell,” Borsen grumbled. “It isn’t good for the goats.”

  “Menders can help me then. He milks as well as either of us.”

  “He has a lot to do.”

  “I’ll train Kaymar to do it then.” Katrin waited.

  Borsen couldn’t resist laughing at the idea of elegant Kaymar milking goats. He turned to her. Despite the laughter, his eyes were wet. Katrin held her arms out to him. He sat with her and embraced her warmly.

  “I’m torn,” he said bluntly.

  “Don’t be. Go. Let Menders help you find a location for your establishment and a place to live. Take all the plans and patterns and drawings and suits you’ve made all these years and make yourself the grandest establishment in Mordania,” Katrin said briskly, not wanting to cry herself.

  She remembered the day Hemmett had gone away to military school, how Menders had stood on the steps and said goodbye, his words. She sat back and looked at Borsen.

  “Make me proud,” she said. “Stand tall, work hard.”

  Erdahn, Mordania

  8

  Two Birds Fly Away

  V

  arnia stood in her room at The Shadows, looking from her packed suitcase to a folded sheaf of legal papers she had not yet been able to allow out of her sight.

  She was going with Borsen to be his housekeeper in Erdahn. They had spent three months merrily traveling back and forth on The Shadows’ steam launch, finding a townhouse that Borsen approved. Varnia had been stunned by its size and elegance and nearly fainted when he announced that a magnificent suite within it would be her apartment.

  “What, you thought I would put you in a little hidey-hole off the kitchen?” he laughed as he nodded to the property agent. “My humble housekeeper in her little dark room? Think again, Sister!”

  Menders had gone with them to be sure all was done properly and they didn’t get carried away and fall in love with a place in dire need of major repair.

  Varnia had walked away into the glorious, sunny rooms that were to be hers, wanting to hide the tears in her eyes. She had been awed at her three rooms at The Shadows but this! It was a house in itself. There was a place that would be perfect for her plants and a little room that would be just right for sewing or painting, which Katrin was teaching her how to do.

  “Happy with it?” Menders asked from the doorway. “He’s about to sign the pape
rs, so last call if you want to look further.”

  He smiled wickedly, knowing she was as in love with the house as Borsen was.

  “It’s wonderful,” she said quietly, going to him. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  “It is well deserved,” Menders answered, taking her hands. “I can’t think of a better setting for you both. We’ll be a few weeks having it brought up to snuff. Borsen is talking about a huge bathtub for one thing, but you should be right at home here within a couple of months.”

  Now the day had come. Furniture, including a massive bed Borsen found in the attics of The Shadows and claimed, had been shipped over, cleaned and arranged in the rooms. They hired a staff, including a cook’s helper, maids and a laundress. Varnia had been astounded at this but Borsen insisted he didn’t want her scrubbing clothes or floors.

  “A housekeeper organizes the housekeeping, she doesn’t scrub and dust,” he said. “My sister, in particular, doesn’t scrub and dust. If you truly want to do the cooking, that’s fine. I can’t think of anyone I would rather have cook for us. But having help doesn’t hurt. I can manage this, Varnia.”

  “Varnia? Only half an hour before leaving.” Kaymar said, tapping gently at her open door. “Is there anything I can take down for you?”

  “The trunk, if you would,” she smiled. He shouldered it easily, an amazing feat considering how many gifts and items had been wedged into it during the last few days. Katrin finally had to sit on it so they could get it to latch.

  “I can take the case too,” Kaymar offered.

  “I’ll bring it. I have something else to put in it,” Varnia answered. He laughed and strode away down the hall with the trunk.

  Varnia picked up the envelope containing the legal papers and drew them out once again. She unfolded them to look at her name next to Borsen’s on the deed of the house.

  When he first showed them to her, she had been speechless for several minutes. Then she had tried to protest that she had paid nothing toward the house.

  “Varnia, you will more than earn your half of this home,” Borsen said after she finally ran out of steam. “You already have. You’ve helped me since you first met me at Eiren’s school. You brought me clothing because I was in rags. You shared what food you had for lunch with me. You tried to protect me against those toughs that beat me up and tripped me down the stairs. I’ll never forget you ready to go after them the day Eiren’s brother had to stop you. There are so many things you’ve done for me since – how can I possibly put a value in money on them?

  “This is our home. We chose it together. We’ll make it into a happy place. Don’t argue and spoil it.”

  Varnia read the words making the house half hers, then rapidly kissed the paper, refolded it and placed it in the envelope. She tucked it into her case, closed and latched it, and went out the door.

  ***

  “Are you sure?” Menders said dubiously, standing on The Promenade three blocks north of the Palace in Erdahn.

  He and Borsen were looking up at the dingy façade of a three story building that had once been a mercantile. It had stood vacant for several years, with no tenant willing to take it on. If a building could have deliberately looked unprofitable, this was the one.

  “It’s sound, Uncle,” Borsen replied, looking up with eyes that saw something Menders couldn’t. “We’ve had it inspected. We’ve had it inspected twice. There’s nothing wrong with it and it’s in the perfect location.”

  Borsen, attired in a beautifully fitting black suit and matching top hat, was pacing up and down the sidewalk, looking up at the building, his gaze lovingly passing over rotting siding, dessicated lintels and grimy, small windows.

  “I haven’t found anything that would be better,” Borsen went on. “It’s across the street from the biggest investment banking firm in Mordania. What better walk by traffic could I have? This is the one, Uncle. I’m positive.”

  Menders turned to the real estate agent hovering some twenty feet away.

  “Done,” he said, seeing the man’s face light up with relief. “Shall we return to your office to finalize the deal?”

  Later, they relaxed over an early dinner at Malvar’s, an elegant restaurant near the Palace. Menders had deliberately avoided looking at the hulking structure where the Queen resided, not wanting the red fury to rise in him again, not wanting to spoil his beloved nephew’s happiness with any reference to that terrible day almost two years ago. This was Borsen’s day, the beginning of realizing his dream. It should be free of the troubles of others.

  “May I have the marble, Uncle?” Borsen asked after polishing off his second bowl of soup.”

  “Have whatever you want,” Menders said firmly. “Don’t hold back. The entire point of the exercise is to start you out in appropriate surroundings. The funds are available to you and as your business partner, I give you permission to use them however you see fit. You’re no fool, Borsen.”

  Their main courses arrived while their conversation continued unabated. Borsen was brimming with ideas, ambitions and plans. Menders had come in on the deal with pleasure, not only because it supported the young man’s dreams but because he was convinced it would be a profitable venture. The run down building was destined for great things. Menders would see to it, through investment of as much funding as was necessary, that Borsen would have sufficient workers and materials to bring it about.

  “Three hundred workmen if you need them, just the way we built The Shadows Academy from the ground up in six months,” Menders told Borsen as they plowed into second main courses, both of them ravenous. “As much marble as you please. Glass for a solarium on the roof. Do it all now, don’t hold back. Even the letters for the sign over over the door. The foreman believes you can be ready to begin in five months with a large enough work force. I’d rather you be in business and turning a profit in five months than have the work drag on for two years with no money being made.”

  Borsen’s eyes were alight as he rapidly scribbled and sketched in his notebook, finalizing ideas, writing down lists of things he would require. Menders hadn’t seen him looking so alive since Katrin had been hurt.

  They strolled back down The Promenade to the townhouse Borsen had purchased as his home in Erdahn. They were greeted at the door by Borsen’s boarhound, Magic, and by Varnia, who embraced Menders warmly before taking herself off to bed after another busy day of organizing and decorating the house.

  “I must start back home,” Menders said after he and Borsen had a drink together and talked over more plans for the building. “You’ll be starting the refurbishment tomorrow, according to the foreman. Kaymar will be over often. Don’t trust any letters to the mails. You know this, why am I nagging you?” Menders laughed a little.

  “I’ll be all right,” Borsen said, coming to stand by him. “I couldn’t be better provided for. I’ll miss you terribly, but Katrin was right. It’s time to do this, if I’m ever going to.”

  “Yes, that it is,” Menders said. “And I know you’re no fool, but please – be careful, my boy.”

  “I will, Papa. I’ll write every week and I’ll come home often.”

  Menders shook Borsen’s hand and then couldn’t bear it. He put his arms around the young man. Borsen hugged back with a will, holding on long enough to let Menders know he was not as confident as he seemed. This parting was painful.

  Menders stood back and took Borsen’s chin in his hand, looking into his eyes for a long moment before letting himself into the street. He didn’t allow himself to look back. He heard Borsen close the door behind him almost immediately.

  Menders walked rapidly down to the boat, untied the rope and tossed it to Ifor.

  “Borsen all settled?” Ifor asked companionably, stowing the rope and making sure all was in readiness for the night trip back to The Shadows.

  “Yes, all eager to begin,” Menders answered before going to the prow. He stood there as the boat drew away from the dock and Ifor pointed it toward home, opening the throttle.


  Standing there in the damp winter cold, Menders tried to squelch many emotions, determined to concentrate on Borsen’s happiness, plans and the fact that Varnia was with him. But as was so often the case nowadays, since the peaceful world of The Shadows had been rocked to its foundations, darkness seeped in.

  He wasn’t entirely confident over Borsen being on his own, even with Varnia’s companionship.

  Borsen was brilliant and talented. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, but Menders had been a tempering influence in his life from the time he was thirteen.

  Borsen was Thrun – very much so. Since he’d been without the upbringing the Thrun gave their children, where they were lovingly taught strong self-control and mental discipline, he could be ruled by extremes – of emotion, effort and exertion. Menders had always seen this, and gently guided the boy and then the young man away from obsessive overwork, where he would forget to eat and rest.

  Menders feared that given his head, with no guidance, Borsen would proceed to work himself to death. The potential was there. But it was time to let him go.

  Katrin and Hemmett needed him most now, so that was where he must be, but part of his heart was back in Borsen’s house in Erdahn.

  “Let it be all right,” he whispered to whatever might hear, wishing for the first time in his life that he was a religious man and could find comfort in prayer. Overhead the three brightest stars were misty blurs.

  ***

  The door to Borsen’s townhouse opened just enough to allow two shadowy figures to slip into the front garden. They moved silently to the street, where they were illuminated by the street lamp.

  Borsen spoke softly to his dog and walked to The Promenade, where he turned south, toward the park where the statue of Glorantha, first Queen of Mordania was located. Magic paced gracefully alongside him, his sheer size and apparent fierceness more than enough deterrent for anyone who might consider accosting the young man.