Women of Wasps and War

by Madeleine D'Este

  She tilted her head towards Froma.

  'This is all very pleasant. But please answer the question,' Kalin interjected.

  'Like you men on the battlefield, we banded together to ensure that your town, your businesses, your livelihoods were maintained for the day you returned triumphant. All this work was on top of the usual tasks of raising children, preparing food, caring for the elderly and keeping the houses. The women became mother and father. And I defy anyone who says the women did a poor job looking after your town.'

  The Scion stared with venomous eyes, her husband half-shrugged and Kalin folded his arms across his chest. But she was unperturbed, she expected nothing less from them.

  'The women showed their bravery, their intelligence, their willingness to work hard. They proved they could do the jobs of men.'

  Across the room, there were muffled grumbles and grunts of disapproval but no one spoke aloud.

  'But then the war ended and we welcomed you home. Our war heroes. But not every story is a ballad and not every man is a hero inside his own home. My maid Sira came to me, in fear for her sister. Her husband was a bad man, a layabout. A gambler, he racked up debts while Rabel struggled to feed her three children. This was a man who took the wages from his nine-year old son to bet on the cocks. Is this a hero?'

  No one responded.

  'Then Rabel returned one day to find a skin merchant in her home. Her husband was negotiating the sale of their little girl. I ask you, my Lord. Would you call these the acts of a hero?'

  The Duke chewed his lip. 'Regardless of the actions of these men, murder is an unreasonable response.'

  'What was Rabel to do? Every time her back was turned, her husband plotted, stole the food from her children's mouths. And Mistress Plesec. Her husband beat her black and blue. How long would it have been before he killed her? Is this man a hero?'

  'These men fought for their Duchy. They risked their lives and returned. Is this how you repay their sacrifice?' The Duke asked.

  'You men knew who your enemies were. They were clothed in black and yellow. You faced them on the battlefields and defended yourselves. These men wanted to kill you. These women,' she gestured to Froma and Rabel, 'faced the threat inside their own homes. Their husbands, men who supposedly loved them and should protect them, turned out to be their greatest enemies. As bad as any Hende Clansman. And now you say these women do not have the right to defend themselves? Like you did on the battlefield?'

  'You cannot compare this to war.' Her husband shook his head. 'You have no idea.'

  'Do you, my Lord? Do you know what they've been through?'

  'This is ridiculous,' the Scion grumbled. 'She has said quite enough,'

  'Scion Zavis. What about the Father? The all-seeing Protector? Where was he when these women were beaten and tormented? The Father let down these women.'

  'Blasphemy!' The Scion leaped to his feet, pointing a knobbled finger. 'Wasp Woman!'

  'If the Father cared for right and wrong, he would have let these men die on the battlefield. He would not have let the circumstances come to this.'

  'Silence this woman!' the Scion spat.

  'Is this the way you feel about me?' the Duke said, his eyes steely. 'Did I deserve to die on the battlefield, rather than return a cripple to embarrass you?'

  Her eyes widened as she shook her head and clutched her hands at her chest. 'Never, my Lord.'

  'Is this true?' The Duke directed his question to the other three women. 'Does the Duchess speak the truth?'

  Froma tossed her shoulder while Sira nodded fervently and Rabel did not even lift her head in response.

  'Your co-conspirators do not fill me with confidence,' he replied.

  'Women.' Kalin rolled his eyes. 'No solidarity, my Lord.'

  The Duke nodded. 'Did you get a taste for power? Was I an inconvenience?'

  'No, my Lord. Believe me. No,' Agata lowered her head, hot tears welling in her eyes. 'This was never about you.'

  'And how do you explain the boy? How did he get in your way?' Kalin said.

  'It was my fault!' screeched Rabel, startling everyone in the room. 'I deserve to die. I didn't watch him.'

  'Silence. I have heard enough.' The Duke's eyes were as cold as midwinter.

  Agata stood open-mouthed. She had so much more to say. She searched his face for any inkling of a change of heart. He must believe her, he must. If only she had been allowed to speak to him alone, away from the prying eyes of the town, away from his duties, where he could be her Gerthorn again.

  The Duke averted his eyes and nodded to Kalin. The weak-chinned guard rushed to his side and helped him struggle out of his chair. Without a second glance at Agata, he hobbled on his iron crutch towards the side door.

  'The trial is complete and all statements have been received. The Duke will retire to consider his judgement.'

  Kalin and the Scion followed the Duke out of the Great Hall and the door closed, leaving Agata and the other three women alone in the room with the townsmen.

  'Traitorous bitches,' yelled someone from the crowd and others laughed in response. A glob of spit flew across the room and slapped Agata in the face. She swept it away with her hand and glared into the crowd.

  'Nevenish scum. You should never have come here.'

  'Wasp Women.'

  'Hold them back,' yelled Seliv. The guards surged forward to surround Agata and the others as the townsmen pushed and shoved. One of the guards dawdled and another glob of spit landed in her hair.

  She gritted her teeth.

  All she could do was wait and hope.

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  As the door to the Great Hall closed behind them, the Duke let out a long breath, glad to be away from Agata's face with her crumbling hope, her disapproval, her frustration, her pleading eyes. Away from his subjects with their resentment and expectations stifling the air.

  His heart was torn in two. On one side, he had the beautiful woman he had married, her gentle words in his ear, her promise of heirs, and the cold nights at war where he thought only of her. And on the other, the same woman and her circle of conspirators had plotted his death.

  Was he a fool? Had she bewitched him? Had he invited a Wasp Woman from the Neven Clan into his home and given her his throne?

  He lurched across the corridor and up the brick stairs to the solar, the Scion and Kalin closely behind. He stared out at the flawless blue sky, the light sparkling on a gently rolling sea, feeling the direct opposite.

  The low table was laid with red grapes and crusty bread, grilled elvers and a wheel of white goat cheese.

  'You should eat, my Lord,' said Kalin.

  'I suppose,' the Duke mumbled, staring out the window as if an answer would emerge from the waves.

  Kalin shrugged and tore into the bread.

  The Scion sat, folded his hands and closed his eyes. 'We are grateful for the food you have grown and raised for us. We will repay you with our loyalty and piety. In the eyes of the Father.'

  'In the eyes of the Father,' said Kalin with his mouth full. 'You will at least have wine?' he asked.

  The freckled serving boy rushed forward with a full goblet and the Duke poured the whole cup straight down his gullet. The wine warmed his throat but not his mood. He sighed and held out his goblet once more. 'If only my father was still alive.'

  'We all miss the Old Duke,' the Scion said as he reached for the smallest pieces of bread and an apple. It was then the Duke remembered it was a fasting day. His lack of appetite could appear pious to the Scion but in truth, he could not bear to eat. His impending decision rolled about in his stomach.

  'A troublesome matter,' Kalin said, slicing a triangle of white cheese with his knife.

  'I disagree,' said the Scion as he picked at his bread. 'It's quite straightforward. The facts speak for themselves.'

  The Duke shook his head. 'I wish I had your certainty.'

  'Three witnesses including your own Great Uncle. And he said she was tormented by a decis
ion to hurt someone.'

  Kalin scratched his beard. 'The merchant's wife is plainly guilty. Stuck-up bitch. What a lot of rot. Bewitched? Spare me.'

  'Do not be so dismissive,' said the Scion. 'You do not know everything in this world.'

  'Witches? Wasp Women? It was poison, plain and simple. Nothing mystical about it.'

  'You have not seen what I have seen.' The Scion pointed with his apple-cutting knife. 'Many years ago, when I first joined the Fatherhood, there was an old Cousin in our Temple, close to death. He would blather on day and night about his encounter with some Akull Queen. Everyone laughed at him. But fifty years after he met her, she still entranced him. Despite a lifetime of devotion to the Father. Women are cunning and insidious. This is why they are so dangerous.'

  'Cunning? Absolutely. That Plesec wife was playing you for a fool, Scion. I never thought I'd see the day a woman fooled you.' Kalin smirked. 'And let's be clear, I will not allow any kind of witch bobbing or uncivilised practices while I am Master of the Shield. We have rule of law now. We are beyond all that nonsense.'

  The Duke said nothing. Proud, foolish Mistress Plesec reminded him of the traitor Hugon, Agata's brother's friend who challenged his Clan leader. Despite all his riches and privilege, Hugon blamed others for all his misfortunes. But the bruises on the Plesec woman's face told another side to the story.

  'And the other three? Iwan Ejvind was a churl and probably deserved it. It's just a shame the boy ate the wrong stew. But the Duchess...' Kalin sucked at his teeth.

  The Duke twisted his mouth.

  'She did not confess when you let her speak. Which was very foolish, my Lord. But she still did not claim her innocence,' the Scion said. 'She is guilty as far as I am concerned.'

  'We have talked about this subject many times,' Kalin sighed. 'You know I never approved of her, my Lord. I still don't. But do I think she conspired to kill you? No.'

  'Do you believe she was involved in the murders of the others?' The Duke narrowed his eyes.

  'It is hard to pick out the truth but I suspect she was involved in the attempted murder of my guards. We caught her red-handed with the Allotment women.'

  'Then according to the law, she must pay for her involvement,' the Scion said.

  'True,' Kalin said, waving a thick slab of ham. 'But what punishment?'

  'The right punishment for the crime,' the Scion said. 'Ejvind and Plesec fought for you and the Duchy in the Civil War. Their lives deserve to be avenged. You owe them loyalty for the loyalty they showed you and the whole Vorosy Clan.'

  The Duke drew in deeply through his nostrils. 'Could there be a lesser punishment?' His voice emerged shamefully feeble.

  'Three men are dead and three more are close to death.'

  'Banishment?' he said, tugging on his bottom lip.

  'You would be looked upon as weak. You heard the views of the people.'

  'Most of them are bloodthirsty idiots looking for a bit of entertainment,' scoffed Kalin. 'But the Scion is right.'

  'Haven't I proven myself on the battlefield?' The Duke's hand touched his empty hose leg.

  'Perhaps. But that was against our enemies. You need to show equal strength with your subjects,' Kalin said.

  'Otherwise you will have a mutiny on your hands.' The Scion nodded.

  'My family has held this throne for thousands of years.'

  'They want justice. If you are lenient, imagine how other women in Ambrovna will respond. You must enforce our ways.'

  'You exaggerate.'

  'You witnessed the way they behaved in the Neven. Where the Fatherhood was pushed aside and the people turned their backs on his true Teachings and wisdom. Look what happened to them. They lost the kingdom.'

  'The Scion has a point, my Lord. You know how old King Rados and his court were always more interested in politics and art than devotion. That is probably where she got her silly ideas from. And they think us uncivilised fishermen.'

  The Scion prodded the table top. 'Thank the Father, the Civil War rid us of the reign of the Neven and the Father is rightfully back in the heart of the Kingdom, as he should be. King Absalom is a pious man. But if you let this matter slip because you do not have the strength to make a tough decision, what will happen to our families? The women will think they can do as they please and the men will blame you.'

  The Duke clutched his goblet tightly with a trembling hand.

  'If word travels about your weakness and your own people turn against you, you will be an easy target. You can only fight so many men on your own.'

  With a bitter laugh, the Duke shook his head and looked to Kalin for support. But his Master of the Shield chewed on his bread with a half-shrug and said nothing.

  The Duke swallowed hard and ran his fingers through his hair. 'But if I put innocent women to death, how will the Father look upon me? Aren't I equally as bad?'

  'The Father will guide you. You know in your heart what is right,' the Scion said. 'You saw the guilt plain on their faces.'

  'You can find another wife,' Kalin said. 'Take my advice this time.'

  The Duke slurped the contents of his cup and slammed the silver goblet on the table.

  'Well, my friend.' Kalin waved his knife with its piece of ham stuck on the end. 'You had better make a decision soon. They are waiting for your judgement.'

  The Duke pursed his lips.

  ***

  Agata changed her mind with every passing moment. First she wished he would hurry back, then she wished he would take his time. Her confidence soared like an albatross only to plunge into the depths of the sea.

  Long shadows fell over the Great Hall but no one came to light the candles. Good beeswax would not be wasted on prisoners and peasants.

  'Hurry up,' moaned a man behind her. The anger was long gone and the townsmen were bored.

  'I heard there was one trial in the old Duke's day, where it took 'im a week to decide,' a long-nosed man said from the crowd on her left.

  'I'm not stayin' here a week,' replied a third man in a high-pitched whine.

  'I didn't think it'd take this long. The decision is clear to anyone with eyes.' Long-nose crossed his arms and nodded at Agata.

  Then Froma whispered in her ear, croaky and low. 'I should have known Irina would eavesdrop on us. Little liar.'

  Agata shook her head. 'You do not see, do you?'

  Froma tutted and frowned. 'Of course, I see. It is obvious. That stupid Irina and Tveldt must be in this together.'

  'Do you think I am deaf? I was right here when you accused me of bewitching you. It is not all the maid's fault.'

  'I think you will find--' Froma said.

  'You accused me. You told them about Rabel and Sira. You brought this on us. All of us. I forbade Sira from giving you the poison because I did not trust you. She went behind my back but I was right.'

  'I-I-I...' Froma stuttered.

  'Even with all this.' Agata gestured to the Great Hall filled with onlookers and guards. 'You cannot admit your fault.'

  'He drove me to it.'

  With a weak smile, she replied. 'That I believe. I saw your face. You did not deserve to be treated that way. But whatever happens to us, however the decision lands, you must make peace with what you did. You cannot lie to yourself forever.'

  Agata turned in her chair away from Froma, her cheeks burning. She heard a huff beside her. Or perhaps it was a sob.

  Two footmen entered with flaming torches and the tiered chandeliers were lowered from the ceiling. Agata straightened in her chair, her heart hammering as they lit the wicks. He was coming.

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  The side door opened and the Duke shambled out. Behind him came the Scion with his hands clasped behind his back and Kalin taking large strides. The faces of all three were blank. The air hummed with anticipation as onlookers scrambled for a good vantage point but in the centre of the room, Agata had the best view of all.

  'Stand,' Kalin ordered.

  Agata shot to her feet but she
moved a little too quickly. She grabbed for the back of her chair and drew in a deep breath to settle her spinning head. She must not faint, she must accept her judgement with dignity. No matter what, she was still a noble.

  'The Duke will now present his decision with regards to the murders of Goodman Ejvind, his son and Master Plesec by poisoning, the attempted murder by poisoning of three guards and the conspiracy to murder Duke Gerthorn Nyvard and overthrow the Duchy.'

  The Duke leaned on his crutch. Agata's knees trembled as she searched his face.

  'I have considered the accusations carefully,' the Duke said. He paused and pursed his lips. 'I have listened to the witnesses, the Voice of the Town and taken counsel from the Master of the Shield and the Scion. I have even considered the evidence offered by the accused.'

  Agata heard Froma murmuring a prayer to the Father beside her. She squeezed her lips tight. He would not help them now.

  'The private relationship between a husband and his wife are not a matter for this Court.' Agata closed her eyes tightly and bit her bottom lip.

  'But the crimes committed by the accused are most serious. The taking of life. Here in Ambrovna we believe in the Father. His wisdom guides us in all we do. And according to the Father's Teachings, the family unit is paramount with the man as the leader.'

  The Scion stared straight at Agata. Her chest tightened and she dropped her head.

  'The man takes the role of the Father in the home, provides protection and wisdom. This is the way we have lived in Ambrovna since the sun first rose in the East. Our strength lies in strong families where everyone knows their role. Without a strong family, there is no trust. And without trust, we are lost.'

  Froma let loose a wail, loud enough for the whole room to hear and Agata curled her shoulders. The Duke did not have to explain, his decision was clear and his orders would be followed without question.