Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series

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Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 76

by Tove Foss Ford


  Katrin flew into the room and flung herself at him, catching him in an enormous hug. He returned it with a vengeance.

  “Oh, look at you!” he laughed when she finally released him and he settled back against his pillows, rather out of breath from the squeezing she’d subjected him to.

  “I had to come as soon as I could. I’m sorry about not giving you warning,” Katrin smiled.

  “I can’t think of a better surprise,” Borsen grinned back, straightening his glasses, which had been knocked askew. He studied her with satisfaction.

  “Don’t. I know I look dreadful,” Katrin protested. “And the dress is too tight as well. I gained even more weight lying around like a doorstop.”

  “You gained it in the right places,” Borsen appraised. “You’re all right, once you get some things made to fit. Hello, Papa!” Borsen turned to accept a swift hug from Menders.

  “I was just about to bring some late lunch up to this youngster,” Stevahn grinned. “Could you do with something?”

  “Maybe not,” Katrin said, looking down at her now very dramatic curves.

  “Nonsense,” Borsen said briskly. “You can’t expect the same body at twenty-nine that you had at nineteen. Even I haven’t managed that. If you’re determined to suffer, you can have some of my finely mashed baby food while I have a steak sandwich – a steak between two steaks.”

  “I’ll give Stevahn a hand,” Menders said with a smile, shaking his head a little as he left them.

  Katrin sat on the side of the bed.

  “I am so sorry I didn’t come when you were ill,” she said awkwardly. “I’m ashamed of myself for that.”

  “You aren’t allowed to belabor it,” Borsen replied autocratically. “You were ill yourself. Whatever happened to you, Katrin? What caused the change?”

  She told him about the Thermaline bomb. When she was done, he looked grim.

  “Yes, people like those military officers and Council ministers would think nothing of people who live in bleak little villages full of little houses,” he said darkly. “You can be sure that was no accident. They wanted to see how effectively their horror kills.”

  “That’s what Menders says. I keep hoping it was an accident,” Katrin said.

  Borsen looked at her.

  “You grew up among decent people,” he said quietly. “You were privileged but you were never allowed to treat people who weren’t as fortunate as if they were inferior to you. You’ll find that many of the privileged people in the world treat poor people like objects. How do you think my mother came into being? She was Uncle’s half-sister. Have you ever considered how that happened?”

  Katrin was shocked to realize she’d never thought about it. Menders had told her his father had an illegitimate daughter and left it at that.

  “I… I just assumed Menders’ father had a Thrun woman as a lover after Menders’ mother died,” she finally said. Borsen shook his head.

  “No – my mother was born first. Papa’s father used the people on his estate as objects, including little serving girls. He had many bastards, none of whom he ever bothered to acknowledge or support. I’ve been one of those poor people, Katrin. I know what it’s like to have a carriage driver try to run me down on purpose because his wealthy master considers it a good thing to eliminate ‘vermin’ and will give his driver a bonus for each City Thrun he runs over. I can remember a well-dressed man kicking my mother in the shins and telling her to move along when we were sitting in a public park, because she was City Thrun. Those are the sorts of people who killed the poor souls in that village. They’d think no more of it than they would think of stepping on an ant hill.”

  Katrin was struggling with tears.

  “Every one of those little houses had someone living in it,” Borsen continued, taking her hand. “Katrin, if you’re really going to be Queen now, promise me one of the things you do will be helping those of us who were born poor. I was lucky. There are millions just like me who will never get the chance I did.”

  Katrin wiped her tears and looked at him, feeling a determined resolve forming in her mind.

  “I will,” she said firmly. “All my people will be given chances, just as we did at The Shadows. There are going to be schools and decent places to live. First, I have to stop this Thermaline madness, but then things will change.”

  They smiled at each other, hands tightly clasped.

  “Now, before lunch arrives, what did you want to tell me when you were sick?” Katrin asked.

  “I don’t remember,” Borsen answered quietly.

  “Please,” Katrin pleaded. “I wish I had come, but I was so ill. I just couldn’t. I tried. Twice. I even tried to run down the Staircase so I’d get to the bottom before the fear began.”

  “No, I’m not keeping it from you, Katrin. I really can’t remember,” Borsen explained. “I remember I wanted to see you very badly and I had something I wanted to say, but it’s gone. There are some… gaps. I can’t remember some things, particularly when I was sick. I also can’t remember some things from the days right before it all started. The fevers were so high they cooked my brain a bit. Franz says that it’s to be expected. I simply can’t remember what I wanted to tell you.” He smiled sheepishly and shrugged a little.

  “Poor thing,” Katrin smiled back. “Maybe it will come back.”

  “Perhaps,” Borsen answered, stretching a bit. “I am remembering some things about being sick, including some things I’d rather not. So, it might come back. And I do remember the important things, like wanting to see you and seeing my mother.”

  Katrin stared at him in amazement.

  “I did. You needn’t gawp at me as if I’m going into a fever again,” Borsen said briskly. “I died. Adults don’t survive putrid fever. If they ever do, they end up dribbling idiots. I died. I was taken out of my body and pulled toward The Light At The Top Of The World, but my mother stopped me and brought me back. There’s something I’m supposed to do yet, so I couldn’t die then.”

  “A dream?” Katrin ventured. Borsen shook his head.

  “No dream. It was real. I saw The Ghosts Of Voices Singing. I saw The Light At The Top Of The World – and it was a wonderful and incredible thing.” He smiled at her. He was gaunt and ill, but Katrin saw something different in him. She cast about in her mind for the answer – and it came to her.

  The longing that was an integral part of Borsen was gone. It had always been there, even when he was laughing or playing – a deep, gnawing need that sounded through his soul like a drone note sounded through music.

  Now he was truly content, as if he’d found the answer to a question that had always eluded him.

  “Have you told anyone else about this?” she asked.

  “Stevahn and Uncle of course. I would never tell Franz. He’d just say I hallucinated it. As it was, he rumpussed when I opened my eyes and said I’d been with my mother.”

  “Do Stevahn and Menders believe it?” Katrin asked doubtfully.

  “Stevahn does, without question, but then he knows me better than anyone,” Borsen grinned. “Papa too, though he’s keeping his counsel.”

  “I can’t see Menders believing it,” Katrin said quietly.

  “He does. He’s far more mystical than he lets on,” Borsen refuted. “He tries to be logical but if you really think about it, you’ll see that much of his thinking is based on intuition. What is intuition but mysticism?”

  “And Stevahn believes it?”

  “Didn’t I just say so?”

  “I just can’t see it,” Katrin said, shaking her head bewilderedly.

  Borsen started rearranging his pillows.

  “If I saw a blue monkey playing a cromar on the windowsill and told Stevahn, he would believe me,” he said. “He knows I don’t lie, Katrin, and he knows I have enough sense not to imagine things. I did see my mother. I am not mistaken. It wasn’t a dream. I know what a dream is like. It was real.”

  The smile on his face couldn’t be denied. Katrin
finally understood what it was Borsen had longed for so desperately – his mother. Now he had her again, be it through fever dream, hallucination or… reality.

  “I’m glad for you,” she said, smiling back at him.

  “Thank you. It’s nice to know where she is,” Borsen answered. “Now, do I get the job of dressing the new Queen Katrin the First once I’m back on my feet and can show you my wonderful establishment?”

  “Morghenna the Tenth,” she corrected him. “And once you’re back on your feet, you’re definitely going to give me that long overdue tour of Borsen’s.”

  “We’ve had too many Morghennas,” Borsen said, curling his upper lip. “I think you should be Katrin I. A new Queen, a new era. No more monster dresses and fake teeth.”

  Katrin blinked. She’d never thought of it. The dress had been useful in getting people to do her bidding, but she despised wearing it. She really hated the teeth and that wretched red wig.

  The appearance was useful, but once she had power again, real power, why not leave off the masquerade? Make a Court that wasn’t an absurd throwback to more primitive times – like she’d made the suite in the Tower?

  “Food,” Stevahn announced from the doorway, Varnia and Menders behind him, all carrying trays.

  “Hurrah!” Borsen pulled himself fully upright. His appetite won out over any bodily infirmity. Once they were all settled with their lunches, Katrin turned to Menders.

  “Borsen was asking if he could dress the new Queen,” she said. “What do you think of banishing the ‘vampire Queen’ persona? Not right away but when the time is right?”

  Menders’ eyebrows went up and he raised a hand, his signal that he wanted time to consider his answer.

  “Once you’ve stopped this new weapon insanity,” Borsen added. “That’s the most important. You said this Thermaline can be used as a fuel, yes?”

  “Yes, a very efficient one,” Menders answered. “As I understand it, the refinement process to make it explosive is completely different than the process making it into a fuel,” Menders was continuing. “So as a fuel, it’s not dangerous.”

  “Think what could be done with a fuel like that,” Stevahn said, rapidly writing something in a notebook he’d picked up from his own bedside table. Doubtless he would be looking into Thermaline as an investment as soon as Menders gave him the go-ahead.

  “Something wonderful could be done with a fuel like that,” Borsen said, his cup of soup halfway to his lips. “Imagine all the things that it could make easier. No more soot from wood and lignus fires, no more smoke in the cities on still days, no more endless woodcutting or scavenging for fuel for poor people. That’s something wonderful.”

  Katrin’s eyes glowed as she thought about it. Not just to stop the destructive use of Thermaline, but to find a way to make something wonderful come of it.

  ***

  Hemmett climbed the last flight of stairs to the Royal Suite. He was a bit puffed, despite being in good physical condition. It was a pity Katrin had been so determined to have her new suite in the Tower, far up and away from everything. Possibly Menders would consider installing an elevator.

  He dreaded going into the suite, for fear of seeing Katrin disheveled and drunk, or stretched out on her bed in the sodden unconsciousness she considered sleep. Hemmett had enjoyed four happy days with Lorein, despite their proximity to the funeral of his parents. He hated the idea of his memories of Lorein and their marriage being completely drowned by the tide of Katrin’s misery.

  Hemmett reached the landing, caught his breath and then swung the door open, calling out to announce himself so Menders didn’t come leaping out with a knife.

  Instead, someone ran at him full tilt, so fast he didn’t really see who it was. Hemmet found himself enveloped in an enormous hug. He looked down at golden hair in confusion. Then he realised that Katrin was jabbering away while fixed fast around him. She began to jump up and down, still holding onto his waist.

  “What is it, you big old crazy girl?” he asked bewilderedly. He had to jump along with her in self-defense, or he would have been jostled into nausea.

  “I’m so glad you’re back!” Katrin cried, grinning up at him, still jigging up and down. “We have so much to do! Menders and I are making all sorts of plans because there are people making bombs that have to be stopped and then I’m going to build schools and good housing and burn that stupid dress in the Courtyard! I’ll have all sorts of cultured people come and live at Court and make all kinds of scholarships so that people can be educated and bring Mordania out of being backwards! Come and sit down and I’ll show it all to you – oh!”

  The rush of words stopped and Katrin looked horrified.

  “I’m so sorry about your parents, Bumpy. So sorry that I couldn’t come to their funeral.” Her expression shifted to one of chagrin and she covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes filled.

  Hemmett looked down at her for another moment, keeping his face immobile.

  Then he started to laugh. It began with a mild chuckle, but within seconds had grown into the enormous haw-haw that had so often gotten him into trouble. He rocked back on his heels with his hands on his hips and laughed, while Menders appeared in a doorway further into the suite and looked amused. Katrin stared at him.

  He stopped laughing when his stomach was sore and his throat felt raw.

  “Hello Willow,” he said to Katrin. “Still not doing things by halves, I see.”

  “I am sorry,” she said. “I should have come with you… but I couldn’t. It’s a terrible thing, melancholia. One thing I want to do is find a cure for it, because when you have it, you’re dead. Worse than dead, because you know that the rest of the world is going on without you.”

  Hemmett put one hand under her chin and another one over her mouth.

  “Now then,” he grinned. “Let me get a word in edgewise. It’s good to see you, my darling other self. May I go and put my uniform bag away before I get drawn into the plan for a new Mordania?”

  Katrin nipped at his fingers to make him let her go and he haw-hawed a bit more.

  “Menders, I like the sound of that. ‘A New Mordania’. Put your bag away, Bumpy and then hurry, we have to make plans about how I can go out and around and be guarded. I’m still afraid to go out but I went to Borsen’s house yesterday and did all right, and I expect I’ll get used to going around before long, but I’ll need an official way to do it. And I want to know how everyone is out at The Shadows! How can it take you so long to put your bag away? Borsen’s house is magnificent! I’m going to steal all kinds of ideas from him to make this Palace habitable. I’ve taken a look around it and most of it isn’t fit to house a horse. Whoever came up with the idea of stone chairs?”

  Katrin’s chatter followed Hemmett to his room, used to store extra uniforms since he acquired his townhouse.

  Hemmett flung his bag on the bed, going against military training that told him to unpack immediately and put everything tidily away. He could do that later. It wasn’t often that he married his great love and had his other self come back to life in the same week.

  “Come on, old toad, hurry up!” Katrin was shouting.

  “On my way, your Royalness,” he said, shucking off his coat and tossing it on the bed.

  “That’s Majesty to you, subject,” Katrin called.

  Hemmett went to her, laughing.

  ***

  “Letter from Eiren for you,” Hemmett said, handing an envelope to Menders. “I would have given it to you before, but the wild woman drove it all right out of my head.”

  They were in the Tower roof garden, having fled the plans for a New Mordania after two hours to let Hemmett have a smoke.

  “I can’t bring myself to rein her in much,” Menders answered. “It’s to be expected for her to be elated now with the melancholia lifted. Franz says it will probably settle down – and we have to be braced in case she swings back into melancholia again.”

  Hemmett grunted, lighting his cigar. “I�
��ll place my bets on Katrin,” he said once he had it glowing.

  “To be honest, so will I,” Menders agreed, running a finger under the seal on his letter. “Good leave?”

  “Yes, very,” Hemmett answered, leaning on the parapet and looking down at The Promenade.

  It was obvious that confidences would not be forthcoming at this time, so Menders gave his attention to his letter.

  Darling!

  What wonderful news about Katrin! Everyone here is overjoyed and hoping the improvement will continue. Katrin has always been so concerned for others that her lack of interest in the people at The Shadows during her illness has been very disconcerting for all concerned. It was as if a stranger had come to live in her body – as you know.

  It’s fully understandable that you and Katrin will find your relationship is strained. The last six years have not been kind to either of you and because of your forced proximity to her, damage was inevitable. It’s not possible to see your child become completely lost and not suffer as a result – and of course, you were in dread that she would end up like her mother. Add to that very understandable anger and frustration on your part and the fact that she did deliberately antagonize you at times because of her illness – and the damage is done. I do believe it can be undone.

  I must admit that I feel very much as if I had abandoned you, though I certainly could not have avoided staying here as I did, between Mama’s final illness and Papa’s collapse. I felt terribly torn – and then would be so frustrated when there was nothing I could do to help Katrin. I hope you can forgive any failings of mine.

  I had a funny little note from Borsen yesterday, complete with a sketch he’s calling “the new Katrin”. He says she now has the figure of a goddess, and that he can’t wait to design some things for her to wear. He mentions that she wants to get rid of that red horror she wears in public. I must say I fully concur with such a plan. Wearing that wretched dress and knowing who wore it ahead of her cannot have helped her.

 

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