The Map Maker's Daughter

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘Milton is seeking election to the Central Archive. This is a position I had rather fancied for myself.’

  Ivory gave a brittle laugh. ‘You! You’re not a tenth of the Map Maker he is! Why should anyone elect you?’

  ‘Because I play my cards well, cousin. I am not content to stay in the sidelines for Milton Hold forever.’

  ‘But if you marry his daughter –’

  ‘His step-daughter. We both know he favours Sharra. It will be her husband who inherits his title.’

  ‘If you’re thinking of her as a bride . . .’ began Ivory.

  ‘Her blood is bad. You knew when you made your bargain with Milton it would reflect on Jayne.’

  ‘Yes, but you knew all this when you agreed to marry Jayne.’

  ‘Perhaps I was a little too taken with her beauty. She is a good girl and you’ve schooled her to make a fine wife, but marriage to her will not give me the status I need. I will take her as consort. If you aid me to gain the place at the Central Archive I will reconsider my position.’

  ‘Take my daughter as consort! Never!’

  ‘If the old fools elect Milton to the Archive there are still many of us who remember the past. Once he is there old fears will resurface and old wounds will open. You know this has already begun. Jayne will be – is being – damned by association. She will not receive another offer and her beauty will wither away in the dusty corridors of the great Milton Hold.’

  Ivory bit her lip. ‘What makes you think I can help you?’

  ‘Your political skills are superb, Ivory, and should you speak against your husband’s election, quietly, of course, and in the right ears, we both know he will never succeed. I know you have spoken with Camden about your fears. All I’m asking you to do is to continue your subtle campaign. I might not be a better Map Maker, but we both know I am the saner man.’

  ‘How do I know you’ll not just walk away from us?’

  ‘If I am elected, Jayne, as my first official consort, will be the obvious and most politically suitable choice for my wife. If Milton is elected Jayne will be no one’s choice for wife. Whatever happens it is in Jayne’s best interests to get her away from Milton Hold as soon as possible. I will do that.’ He started to walk away, but then stopped and turned back. ‘Of course, if Lord Milton had only one daughter matters might be quite different.’

  In the Great Hall Sharra was aware of Jayne eating daintily and scowling at her, but she didn’t care. She didn’t realise her father had returned to take his place at the high table until she heard his voice give the traditional toast before the boasts began.

  ‘We hold back death!’

  Lord Milton raised the gem-studded Companion Cup high above his head. It might have been her imagination but Sharra thought her father was aiming the toast particularly at Gory. Gory seemed to be taking it as a compliment. He lounged back in his chair, a slight smirk on his lips. Milton was not smiling. How could Gory so entirely miss her father’s mood?

  Light from the great hearth fire glinted off the Companion Cup making the goblet sparkle in the gloom of the hall. Sharra heard her little cousin Clem draw breath in amazement at the abundance of jewels studding the vessel.

  ‘Ssssh!’ hissed Jayne. ‘You mustn’t talk. Gory is about to give his boast.’

  Jayne smiled towards Gory and tossed her long blonde hair that tonight was carefully waved and beaded with pearls, and flowed to her slim waist.

  ‘Careful you don’t shake anything loose. I don’t fancy breaking a tooth on one of your beads.’

  Jayne ignored Sharra, resting her chin on one hand and tilting her head towards the high table.

  ‘You can simper as much as you like, he’s not watching you.’

  ‘Can’t you at least admit he’s handsome?’

  ‘He’s my uncle,’ sighed Sharra. ‘Of course I don’t find him handsome. Besides he’s smug and he makes mist–’ she bit her tongue before she said too much.

  ‘That’s just a polite title. He’s not your uncle. He’s distantly, very distantly, related to my mother, that’s all.’

  Sharra wondered about the emphasis, but contented herself with pulling a face. ‘See me care.’

  ‘Oh, you will,’ snapped Jayne, ‘when you’re older, but you’re just a little girl.’

  ‘Like you’re an adult,’ sneered Sharra.

  ‘More so than you.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ answered Sharra, but she said it quietly, not wanting to attract any more attention to herself from either her father or the Hold mothers. ‘I was the one who saved the people at the village while you sat around moaning about it being cold.’

  Jayne gave her a hard stare.

  ‘Oh look. I don’t want to argue with you. Especially not over someone as unimportant as Gory.’

  ‘Ssssh. He’s talking.’

  ‘I therefore declare I am opening my third Map archive. I have the stone. I have the men. I shall build an archive between Milton and Camden so Maps can be more easily distributed. We hold back death!’ Gasps answered Gory’s announcement as he raised high the boasting goblet and drank.

  ‘Ah, now I see why you like him,’ whispered Sharra.

  ‘But what does it mean?’ persisted Clem.

  Sharra turned to her little cousin. ‘What?’

  ‘We hold back death.’

  ‘It’s the family motto. It means that by reading the signs of change in the world, predicting Shift and creating new Maps we protect the people of the world.’

  ‘It’s more than that! It’s the Cartographers’ Creed,’ interjected Jayne.

  ‘That’s just a fancy way of saying family motto,’ responded Sharra.

  ‘It’s more than that, Gory told me.’

  ‘Oh well, if Gory told you.’

  Jayne’s eyes flashed and she began to recite, ‘The Cartographer’s Creed is a vow to hold back the Shift of the world. To keep as safe as we can be for as long as we can be. To hold back the rising tides, the falling hills, the crumbling stone and the darkn–’

  Sharra stuck out her tongue.

  A well-modulated voice with just a touch of steel came from behind, ‘You’re never going to find a husband if you keep pulling faces like that, girl.’ Sharra turned quickly and looked up into the pale eyes of Dame Ivory.

  ‘My apologies, Dame Mother,’ murmured Sharra, casting her eyes down.

  ‘And you, Jayne, do not speak of matters that don’t concern you!’

  Jayne flushed and bit her lip.

  Dame Ivory nodded slightly and glided away towards the high table. Diamonds sparkled in her ornately braided hair and the skirts of her dress trailed long behind her. The other mothers who were serving tonight moved aside at her approach and the serving girls flattened themselves against the wall. Dame Ivory stopped by Sharra’s father and offered him wine from the jeweled flagon she carried.

  ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ breathed Clem. ‘Just like an icicle.’

  Sharra snorted into her drink. ‘Hush,’ hissed Jayne. ‘She’ll hear you.’

  ‘Gory, you were speaking of your plans to donate stone from your personal store to shore up Linden Harbour. Perhaps it is time to pass the Companion Cup onto another to hear of their plans before your generosity is exhausted.’ Sharra heard the touch of irony in Milton’s voice, but Gory carried on regardless.

  ‘As well as these many improvements I intend to form my own household by the turn of the year and set to fathering a new generation of Map Makers! I hope in the not too distant future to announce the name of the first lady who will grace my household.’

  Applause broke out across the hall. Lord Milton shook Gory’s hand and smiled.

  Sharra frowned. ‘What do you think he means?’

  Jayne blushed a fiery red.

  ‘You! You can’t! He’s so old!’

  ‘He is not old,’ snapped Jayne. ‘He’s a brilliant Map Maker. He’s going to be a great man, greater than Milton ever was.’

  ‘As if.’

  The mea
l stretched on and on. Sharra found herself nodding over her bowl of sugared berries and cream. However, when the children were finally released from the festivities and she was safe in her bed, she felt unaccountably awake. Jayne hadn’t said another word to her all evening.

  When the cool bright light of morning pierced the shutters of the children’s room a little churning sea of fear rolled over in her stomach. Next to her Clem was rubbing his eyes and yawning. He must have climbed into her bed during the night. He was so very small she couldn’t be angry. Across the room the other children were waking.

  ‘Clem,’ she hissed softly in his sleep-warmed ear, ‘get back into your bed before anyone notices.’

  ‘I had a nightmare, Sharra. I dreamed the Shift were coming again and again and each time they took away more until there was nothing left!’ Clem sat up in bed, two fat tears rolled down his cheeks. ‘Is the world going to end, Sharra?’

  Sharra gave the little boy a hug. ‘You think about this a lot, don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t want to die, Sharra.’

  ‘I can only tell you what my father used to say to me when I asked if the world was going to end.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘He used to say, yes, but not today.’

  ‘Oh? Tomorrow?’

  Sharra smiled and shook her head. ‘The best thing you can do is grow into a fine Map Maker, Clem, and keep us all safe. There’s a lot of very bad Map Makers at the moment and we need clever people like you to help keep us all safe.’

  ‘You’re clever, Sharra.’

  ‘I’m not allowed.’

  ‘But if you told Lord Milton how much you really wanted to draw he might let you. You’re his favourite.’

  Sharra grinned. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I rather hope that too.’

  Clem wiggled his toes under the heavy covers. The frown had vanished from his face, but he didn’t look happy. ‘But is the world going to end soon? Before I grow up?’ persisted Clem.

  ‘I don’t think anyone would bother with the Settlement if they thought that, would they?’

  ‘Maybe. Grown-ups do get a lot of things wrong. Steve told me if it wasn’t for the Central Archive Map Makers digging everything up we wouldn’t be in this mess.’

  Sharra blinked. ‘What on earth was he talking about?’

  Clem shrugged. ‘He’s only a messenger. He might have got it wrong.’

  Outside there was a click-click of heels in the corridor.

  ‘Quick, Clem. Get back into your own bed!’

  Clem rolled hurriedly into his bed moments before Dame Ivory swept into the room.

  ‘Children. There will be a party for Lady Jayne tomorrow. All of you may attend for the first hour to make your farewells.’

  Sharra sat bolt upright in bed. ‘Farewells?’ It was only then that she saw that Jayne’s bed lay empty.

  Dame Ivory’s hard eyes met hers and Sharra felt shivers go down her spine. ‘Yes, Sharra. Lady Jayne’s almost exemplary behaviour while a girl under your father’s roof has attracted the attention of Lord Gory. He has been offered a prestigious place at Camden Hold and will be escorting her back there to live while he readies a suitable family home for them.’

  ‘But he’s twice her age!’

  ‘Not so. He undoubtedly seems ancient to one of your youth, Sharra, but he is no more than ten years her senior.’

  ‘How can you be so cruel as to make her marry that man!’

  ‘I hardly think marrying a man of Lord Gory’s standing cruel! Come now, would you have your step-sister marry a youth near her own age without wealth or position? She will have a fine life and mother many children for the family and the Archives. Gory’s star is on the ascendant. One day you may be glad to have known her. Or is it something else that worries you?’ Ivory smiled thinly. ‘If it eases your mind, no lord has enquired to me of you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Sharra,’ piped up Clem. ‘I’ll marry you if you like.’

  ‘And you, little one, must learn not to make foolish promises. If Sharra is still unclaimed by the time you are of age, as seems liable to be the case, she may be glad of your offer.’

  The room erupted into laughter and Sharra felt her face burning. ‘I meant it,’ protested Clem.

  ‘I appreciate your offer, Clem and if I were to marry anyone I would count myself lucky to be chosen by one with such a giving heart. But I don’t intend to marry.’

  ‘But you must!’ declared Clem. ‘You’re a Map Maker’s daughter!’

  ‘I intend to work in the Archives.’ The defiant words were hardly out of her mouth before Sharra regretted them.

  Silence. Then Dame Ivory began to laugh. The children watched with apprehension. Ivory’s mirth was high and harsh quite unlike the chuckles and giggles they shared between themselves and with their own mothers. ‘I’m sorry, Dame Mother,’ Sharra cut across the unfamiliar sound. ‘I did not mean to give offence.’

  ‘Today, not even you, Sharra, can shake my composure, for today my daughter is betrothed to a great man.’

  ‘Is he great? He’s not Lord of a Hold.’ Clem wiggled uncomfortably as Ivory turned the blast of her cold attention on him.

  ‘Indeed, little one. The world turns, Clem, and positions change. I have had my time at the centre of the world and one day my daughter will have hers. Unlike you, Sharra, who will probably end up married to a village farmer.’

  All the children, but Clem, laughed.

  Sharra blushed and turned her face away.

  ‘What’s wrong with marrying a farmer?’ asked the puzzled little boy. ‘Lord Milton says we could not survive without the farmers, the fishermen, the bakers and the growers. Lord Milton says we should treat them with respect.’

  ‘With respect, yes,’ sneered Ivory. ‘But not marry them. We are of the families. Of the blood. They are of the talentless.’

  ‘You mean none of them can draw? Everyone has –’ began Clem.

  ‘Enough,’ snapped Ivory. ‘Save your questions for your tutor. Everyone up. Wash, dress casually and be prepared to make yourself useful today. Sharra, see me after breakfast. I have something special in mind for you. With Jayne leaving you will become senior daughter of the house and inherit all the duties that entails.’

  Sharra’s first duty turned out to be decorating Jayne’s bridecakes, all seven hundred of them. Each of the cakes, no bigger than a man’s hand, had to be decorated with dried fruit and edible sugar ribbons in tasteful patterns. Each as different as she could make them.

  The cakes smelled tantalisingly of cinnamon, tansy, and dark spice. They were a rich brown and, Sharra knew, one in every twenty-five would contain a bride-prize. Sharra tried to watch the chef as he selected the mixture of the prize cakes, but he worked with his back to her and kept all the other staff well away. At least with the ovens working away the kitchen was comfy and warm.

  ‘You’re going to have to go faster if you want to be finished in time for high table,’ Ivory’s hateful voice chastised her.

  ‘Dinner?’ spluttered Sharra. ‘What about lunch?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think you’ll have time for that, do you?’ Ivory smiled. ‘Just think if you were a scribe you’d have to work harder than this every day. The Maps have to be very precise. You should thank your stars such matters fall to the hands of men.’

  ‘I get the point,’ muttered Sharra.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Sorry, Dame Mother. I was thinking aloud. I wasn’t aware Lady Jayne was marrying Lord Gory tomorrow. I thought you said she was marrying him at Camden?’

  A faint colour came to Ivory’s pale cheeks. ‘Is it not hot in here?’ she exclaimed. ‘You must leave yourself time to bathe before table. The Lords like to smell only their food.’

  ‘I don’t know why you want her to marry him, anyway. My father says he is a very poor Map Maker.’

  Dame Ivory’s eyes flashed. Involuntarily Sharra shrank back, convinced the woman was about to strike her. Marnie coughed behind them and the
moment passed. Instead Dame Ivory leaned over to whisper in Sharra’s ear. ‘Ask your father sometime where being a great Map Maker got him and your mother. I warn you if you do anything more to damage Jayne’s chances your father will not be able to shield you.’

  ‘What do you mean? I’ve never done anything to hurt Jayne.’

  Ivory answered so softly Sharra strained to hear her. ‘Your very existence is a blight on all our lives.’ Then Dame Ivory swept from the room.

  ‘I must have misheard her.’ She shrugged. ‘Though I shouldn’t be surprised, she always has a cross word for me.’

  ‘That Dame Ivory is a powerful one,’ said Marnie. ‘She might have lost her place at the Inner Clave when her first husband died, but she’s not lost all her friends nor forgotten what she once was. It’s not wise to anger her. What with what’s happened to her daughter.’

  ‘I don’t understand. I thought Jayne was making a good marriage.’

  ‘Hmmpf!’ Marnie straightened her cap and tucked under a few stray, grey-black curls. ‘It may be marriage he means, but not yet.’ She leaned in closer, ‘The word is your uncle is right taken with your kin-sister’s looks, but not so with her kinsfolk. He wants a girl to wed whose mother is still in the Inner Clave. He wants to be sure her blood is true. Gory’s got ambition.’

  ‘Don’t tell me no one’s going to eat these wretched cakes!’

  ‘They’re to salve Dame Ivory’s pride. He’s taking her as a consort, child. He might make a wife of her later. He might not.’

  ‘Consort? Does that mean girlfriend?’

  ‘It means everything a wife is and does, but there’s not the legal contract of marriage.’

  ‘My father will never allow it!’

  ‘When all's said and done she’s Ivory’s daughter not his. Ivory’s not one to make a bad bargain. She’ll have some plan in mind, you wait and see.’

  ‘Some plan! But this is Jayne’s life!’

  Marnie shook her head and walked away. Sharra stood staring at her handiwork. Row upon row of little cakes with the initials J and G piped on the top blurred before her eyes. She put down her icing bag and slipped from the room.

  Gareth wasn’t in the ante-chamber, so Sharra opened the door to her father’s office. She did it slowly and as quietly as she could. She saw her father bent over a huge tome with Gareth hovering in the background. Milton was saying, ‘I can’t see how someone from Camden would have had access to our seals. I don’t want to think –’