“I’ll go. I know where she lives.” Weaver, a young tradesman, stood up near the front. “But save my chair.” He downed his glass of hope, ran a forearm across his mouth, and proceeded toward the door.
Long cleared his throat and the mumbling dimmed.
“Home . . .” The elderly man’s aged voice filled the room.
“The comforts of home.” A sheen filled his eyes, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his lean neck.
“Where we warm our souls by the fire,
A straw-tick bed when we’re tired,
A bowl of my Molly’s mutton stew…
My home . . . little old woman
. . . is you.”
Wron grinned and clapped loudly along with the others.
Long turned to his left and held out one hand for Dory. She rose from the piano stool and took his arm in hers.
“Dory, what do you see? Do you see my Molly?”
With a hand cupped over her eyes, Dory scanned the entry area. The audience’s gaze followed hers.
“It won’t be long, . . . Long.” Her voice trembled. Like the audience, she was on the verge of tears.
Wron closed his eyes. Please help Weaver find Molly, he prayed. Please help him find her for the sake of this dear old man.
“Little old woman, where are you?” Long’s unseeing eyes roved the room.
With the rest of the audience, Wron glanced over his shoulder toward the door. Weaver, the young man, stepped through the doorway. A hush fell over the group, as a frizzy white-haired woman with windblown cheeks and wearing a soiled apron walked in behind him. Across the room, her gaze found Long.
The fire crackled in the hearth and heads turned as Molly walked the middle aisle.
“Long . . .” Dory said, “a beautiful woman with flowing white hair is walking toward us.”
“Does she look like she’s forgiven me?” The light flickered in Long’s glazed eyes.
Emotion burned hot in Wron’s throat.
“Yes. She looks like a bride; there is so much love in her eyes.”
“Little old woman . . .” Holding his hands out, Long turned slightly toward the stairs. “I’m so blessed…”
Lifting her dress at the knee, his wife slowly climbed the steps.
“Words cannot express . . .”
She pressed her cheek to his chest and wrapped her arms about Long’s lean waist.
“Awh . . . my Molly.” Sighing, he kissed the top of her hair.
Wron glanced over his shoulder to where Peg stood near the stone fireplace. Tears glistened on her cheeks before she wiped them away.
There was hope for the shopkeeper.
ΦΦΦ
I shared the joys of the day with Leeson and Elza. After supper, Elza applied the steamed leaves of the queen of the meadow plant directly to my pox. Her wrinkled fingertips felt soft against my cheeks. Using her mortar and pestle, she ground the dry root into a powder, which she used to make a discolored broth. She handed me a cupful of it.
“It smells awful.” I eyed her above the brim of my cup.
“Does dee Bell Dower have a mirror?”
“No.” I looked toward the fire. “I’m afraid that if see a mirror, I will come home and say, Elza, please make me a potful of that unpalatable tea.”
She held her tummy, and her body shook, yet no sound escaped her.
“Do I look as bad as my hands?” I held them above the table for her to see.
“If queen of dee meadow does nod work, domorrow we will dry onions.”
“We are out of onions,” Leeson said.
“Then I will buy more.” My money was hidden in Elza’s salt jar. “Does my face look like my hands?” I again asked Elza.
Her head bobbed as she nodded. “You have nod improved, dear one.”
The weight of my secrets crushed my spirit, and it took all my strength to move from the table to my bed. I lay down, facing the wall, and in silent prayer, I blubbered my worries to God. I stilled my mind, waiting for His whisper. One word tiptoed in so softly that I almost didn’t hear it.
Patience.
That couldn’t be it. That couldn’t be all that God had to tell me. I’d already been patient. For weeks I’d been patient. Couldn’t He give me more words than that? Words like you’d find in one of those China Woman’s cookies. Words like: Tomorrow you will be beautiful in your betrothed’s eyes. Or Your dear friend is not dead. Or Tomorrow your father will arrive, and he’ll be so proud of you.
I sniffled and waited for God’s whisper. Instead, Elza sat down on the edge of my bed, and in small circular motions, she rubbed my back.
“I don’t know if it’s just the emotion of the day or…” I said.
“Shh!” she hushed me. “Dee h’ard can only hold so much.”
I needed to hear her tender words. Not Swamp Woman or Play more, you wretched creature. Tender words like Elza’s.
ΦΦΦ
Before breakfast, I left early to purchase a bag of onions and potatoes at the mercantile. While there, I spotted new women’s shoes on the rack. They were so plain; I could not bring myself to try them on. I would rather go barefoot.
When I returned to Leeson and Elza’s, a band of soldiers—on horseback and on foot—surrounded the smithy.
Had the Queen decided to take me?
Leeson closed the door behind me. In the center of the small room at our crude table sat Prince Wron and Roger, the middle-aged guard. Soon I would be leaving here to become the Queen’s possession.
I set the bag of onions and potatoes near the sink. “Good morning, Prince Wron. You are visiting early.” I walked around the side of the table and sat down on the edge of my straw-ticked mattress. Elza had been busy. Both freshly brewed coffee and sourdough biscuits warmed on the hearth.
Elza set chipped mugs of coffee in front of our guests. She clasped her hands below her chest in silent, but visible, prayer, and watched Prince Wron take his first sip.
“The coffee is very good, Elza. Dark and rich.” He glanced up at her. His short dark hair bore a cowlick in the middle.
“Dory boughd id for uz.”
“Will I be working at Peg’s today?” I asked.
“No.” Wron lowered his cup to the table. “You will return with me to play for my parents.”
I was leaving whether I was healed or not. So, this was what a wilted plant from the Queen meant.
“Tonight, Peg wanted Long and me to repeat last night’s performance.” I’d seen Wron and his men last night at The Bell Tower.
“You’ll need to discuss it with my mother.”
Was it because Wron had seen the performance that I was now leaving?
“Earlier, I was told she did not want me in your home until I was healed.”
“My mother is concerned that not enough is being done for your healing.” His dark brows lifted.
I would not stare or allow myself to dwell on his good looks. I was a wretched creature.
Elza puttered to the hearth. Carrying a wire handle wrapped in cloth, she set a dark cast-iron pan in the center of the table beside a dish of honey. “Dee sourdough is Dory’s recipe.”
“Thank you, Elza.” Wron held a biscuit beneath his nose and inhaled the sourdough aroma before taking a bite. “It is unique and delicious. I would like you to show Rhoda, our cook, how to make these.” He glanced at me.
I hurriedly shook my head. The Giant Woman scared me.
“You do not like change, do you?” Wron regarded me.
If he had undergone as much change as I had, he wouldn’t either.
“Will I be allowed to stay here?” I loved the simplicity of Leeson and Elza’s home, the love and care they showered upon me.
“No. Now that we have physical proof that you are from Blue Sky, it’s best that you stay under our protection, at least until Princess Alia and her father arrive.”
“What proof?” I asked.
“The Blue Sky insignia is in the shoes of your horse in Leeson’s stable.”
“Dee princess!” Elza gasped, and covered her mouth with both hands.
In the silence that followed, the room felt stuffy and overly warm. Wron looked at Elza and shook his head. Completely at ease, he stretched his long legs my direction and crossed them at his royal boots.
“Dory, tell me your circumstances.” His gaze narrowed.
In the gleam of the coffeepot that warmed on the bricks, I saw the small, distorted reflection of an odd, miserable creature. Prince Wron was young, handsome, and waiting for Princess Alia to arrive. If I told him who I really was, would he stare at me in horror? Would they abandon me in the hills to never find my way out?
“At the age of seven, I became Blue Sky’s royal pianist.” It was not a lie. After my father lavishly complimented my piano recital, the royal pianist threw a vase. Father fired her, and at age seven, I’d simply replaced her.
“The age of seven?” Incredulity tinged his deep voice.
“Yes. I am well known in Blue Sky, if not famous, which is why my father had me travel in disguise.” So far I had not lied.
“Are you here for the wedding?” He shook his head.
“We traveled two weeks ahead of the wedding party so that my father might have time to visit Evland. Yes, I am to play for your wedding.”
I had just lied to my future husband, and felt slightly sick to my stomach.
“Two weeks . . . I see. And tell me again why you traveled in disguise?”
“I am quite famous in Blue Sky. My father and King Wells thought it best.”
He nodded thoughtfully, taking it all in. “Much of Evland was destroyed during the war.”
“I would still like to see my father’s homeland.” My second lie. I held two fingers out against my knee, trying to keep track.
“I understand.” He nodded toward the guard at the table. “Roger is from Evland. Both he and Cragdon speak of it with great emotion. After you’ve served your time, you may go there.”
“During my penance, may I board here with Leeson and Elza? I have found their home to be very comforting,” I requested once more.
“No.” Wron rose from the table and nodded toward Leeson. “Because Dory is from Blue Sky, she is valuable to us at this time.”
Elza’s shoulders quivered as she began to weep. Leeson set a hand to her back. At the open cupboard, I took down the crock of sourdough. After stirring in several cups of flour, I divided the dough and set half of it in a chipped earthenware crock. I told myself that it was not good-bye.
“You will redurn do us, Dory?”
“Often, Elza, you are like family to me.” I set an arm about her rounded shoulders. “Remember to feed the sourdough. You now have your own to share with others. My other horse is yours to sell. I want you to keep the money,” I told Leeson.
“No, it is too much. I will not sell it without you,” he mumbled.
As I crossed the threshold, I closed my eyes; I could not look back.
‡
Chapter Fifteen
From the inner courtyards, one would never have known the region had been plagued by over a decade of war. An orchard of fruit trees lined the right side of the cobblestone walkway. Light green baby apples loaded the branches, a welcome I found promising.
“You will bathe and change. By then the piano will be situated in the Great Hall.” With a long gait, Prince Wron strode ahead of Roger and me.
“Where was the piano purchased?” I asked.
“There is a fine shop in Delfrey. Cragdon was told to select the best.”
I hoped it was not a baby beast like Peg’s. “Did Cragdon tell you Peg’s response last night when he delivered the letter?” I called after him.
“Yes; if Peg has finally read it, she will know that my mother is willing to share you one afternoon a week until your penance is paid. Roger will accompany you.”
“You play beautifully, Swampie.” Roger cast me a faint smile.
“Her name is Dory, Roger.”
I smiled at Roger. “I don’t mind.” Peg’s nickname had kind of grown on me.
I was thankful that at least once a week, I’d be able to make the evening reenactments with Long, however corny they might be. For now, I would reacquaint myself with my future in-laws and play the piano. If they were unkind, I’d escape to Leeson and Elza’s in the middle of the night.
The lead guard held open the postern, a side door of the castle. The wide stone hallways were lit by torch sconces. The floors were slate, not lovely white marble like Blue Sky. This was my future home, and though my heart wanted to, I would not compare.
I glanced over my shoulder, and in a window into another hallway, I locked eyes with an odd-looking creature. I stepped back for a moment and peered again. It was not a window but a large mirror trimmed with slate, reflecting my darkest nightmare.
The creature was me.
Roger stepped back to join the creature in the mirror.
“Please . . .” I touched the puffy, nickel-sized spots. “Please don’t be me.” Yet I knew my reflection did not lie. My eyes were swollen, mere slits of green. The pox was crusted and unsightly. A heaviness anchored in my being. How could Wron, or anyone, bear to look at me?
“I did not recognize myself.” I swallowed tears. “I’m sorry, it’s a great shock.”
Wron, who’d disappeared around the curved corridor, returned for us. “Come now, my parents are waiting.”
Blindly, I followed him. The day she’d assigned me to Peg’s, the Queen had seen me up close. Her love for music must be great to allow me in her home.
“I looked bad in the reflection of the coffeepot,” I whispered. “No one told me how terrible, terrible . . . I really look. No one.”
“What was that?” Wron stopped ahead of us.
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“I heard something.”
“She said no one told her how terrible she looks,” Roger said.
Wron waved a hand toward a small chamber. “This will be your room.” Two plump feather beds sat against one wall, and at the far end of the room, a tall arched window provided daylight.
“You will room with Rhoda, our cook.”
“Rhoda?” A giant would be sleeping no more than four feet away from me.
“Yes, you will like Rhoda.” He nodded ahead. “Down the hallway, a warm bath has been prepared, and Mother has selected clothes for you.”
“Is it true that Rhoda’s a vegetarian?” I asked.
“At times, she does not eat meat. Make haste; the piano will arrive soon.”
Though my circumstances were not ideal, I was finally here. Despite numerous complications, I’d made it. I was in Yonder’s royal family’s home. I thought on the one word God had whispered to me, patience. He must have an incredible sense of humor to think that one word would pacify me in such a time as this.
But . . . I was home.
Now I just needed to wait for healing, for my betrothed to fall in love with me, for Father to arrive, and for patience.
I hope you enjoyed The Piano Girl – Part One
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The Viola Girl (about Wren) will be released
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Other books by
Sherri Schoenborn Murray:
Fried Chicken and Gravy – A Christian romance
Sticky Notes – A clean college romance
A Wife and a River – A clean fishing romance
The Viola Girl – coming sometime in August, 2016
urray, The Piano Girl - Part One (Counterfeit Princess Series)
The Piano Girl - Part One (Counterfeit Princess Series) Page 13