by Pam Uphoff
"Mitchell would." Katherine muttered.
Her older sister rounded on her. "Oh, just you wait until his parents hear about this. You'll never see him again."
"Thirteen is a bit young to be making plans, isn't it?" Liz eyed the younger girl and wondered who Mitchell was.
"Most likely." She retreated back into a sullen silence.
"Do either of you ride? I've been going out in the park nearly every day. Would you like to join me?"
Katherine glared. "We left so fast, we didn't have time to order our horses to be brought to town."
Liz was finding the life of a Lady to be highly unsatisfactory. At least in this household. Once the regular staff had arrived, Liz was no longer welcomed in the kitchen, her laundry returned stained and smelling of damp mold. Thank goodness she hadn't had very much that needed washing, yet.
She dreaded having a confrontation with the laundry maid, but it was going to have to happen. Her father had given her permission to dismiss any staff she needed to. Putting it off wasn't going to make anything any better.
She got up and walked out, heading for the very nice guest suite she was occupying. She heard a ripping noise as she reached for the door handle, and walked in to find her maid with a ruined blouse in her hands.
The maid smirked.
"You are dismissed. Come with me, to see Mr. Hodgens for your pay. No doubt Lady Millicent will give you a letter of recommendation."
"You can't do that."
"Unfortunately for you I can. Move your nasty ass or I'll kick it down stairs." Liz herded her out the door and down the stairs.
"I was only doing what the baroness told me to do!"
"Indeed. You should get a glowing letter of recommendation from her."
Mr. Hodgens straightened with a frown.
"Miss Gladis is incompetent to launder garments, but excels at deliberately ripping them. Settle up her pay and have her off the premises within the hour. And if you can find a competent laundress and a competent seamstress, send them to me." Liz nodded coldly and walked out.
Mr. Hodgens had been present when Liz was given authority to dismiss and hire. Now he had better pass the word along to the rest of the staff, or he'd have none at all.
In the mean time Liz gathered up all her laundry and marched out the front door. She walked, backtracking from memories of carriage rides to a public laundry, and handed over the bundle and coin. She wasn't dressed well enough to intimidate the working women, and soon had them chatting away, and acquired, among other things, a reference to a seamstress who was 'out of fashion, but very industrious'.
She walked back in the pleasant evening breeze to a chastened household. The housekeeper scurried in to the entry when she came, and looked with horror at the bundle of laundry Liz was carrying.
"Oh, Miss, we take care of all that!"
"Well, you've failed to do so, so far, and I've had quite enough of my clothing ruined by your pathetic laundry maids as it is." Liz looked her up and down. "I suppose I will give you another chance. I shan't be here long enough to replace all of my father's staff." She turned and marched up the stairs, well aware of the butler's frozen expression, and that the door to the kitchen was ajar and filled with watching eyes.
That's right. I'm pissed and you can be dismissed. Just give me another excuse.
***
Lady Millicent moved to a small town house with her staff, including Gladis, but her children remained at the Jameson mansion. She claimed her endowment was insufficient to keep her children in style. More likely she considered the children's presence a constant pressure on the baron.
Her brother, Lord Grand Debrois, took up the crusade against 'the divorce' as they kept calling it. He took Raulph under his wing, but only during the daylight hours. "He is your heir, like it or not Jameson. Divorcing Millicent doesn't change that."
"Your word play doesn't change the legalities, Grand. Your father and mine may have colluded, but that's buried with them. I'm done with this travesty of a marriage. I'll see to the children being well set up in life, but unless that bully mends his ways, there will be no petition of legitimacy."
"You've done so for the other three."
"No reason to harm the girls further, and Felix at least looks as if he could be my child."
"Bah. They're all blonde like their mother."
"Their mother is a brunette who bleaches her hair. There are damn few blondes on either my or your side of the family. Raulph's the image of Porter Nighthouse, and is no doubt his half brother. Oh. I see from your gawp that it never occurred to you your sister might have seduced her best friend's husband. She spent enough time visiting 'her friend' while the old baron was still alive it's no surprise the girls look like him, too. I had to fire half my staff and isolate Millicent in the country and get her drunk enough to co-operate to get Felix. Enough. Teach the boy some manners and responsibility and I'll consider a petition. Otherwise he'd best think on university or the Army. Or living on a small endowment."
Liz heard it all, as seeking refuge in the library meant she was privy to everything that was discussed in the office.
"Sorry about that, Liz." The baron apologized after the third loud and frank discussion of the morning. "I think that in a week I should take you to see the State of East Heights."
"I'd love to see it. Will the legalities be done?"
"Close enough."
Chapter Forty-one
Tuesday, June 16, 3493
City of Arrival, Arrival
Kurt finally got to the old man's rooms while he was fairly coherent. Not quiet, or calm, mind you.
"Wife, what is this pap you keep feeding me. Damn it all to hell and gone. Bad enough they saddle me with a besom like you, this shit is not going down my throat. You want me to eat? Bring me some food!"
Kurt dodged the retreating woman, then had to duck the thrown bowl. The 'pap' hit the wall beyond and dripped down while the shards of the bowl were still jittering on the floor.
"Would you like some help, Misses?"
The woman pulled herself up tall and stiff. "I am Sister Barbara and you may clean up the wall and floor." She stalked out, to the old man's cackling laughter.
"And don't think I can't handle you, too, pup!"
"Hey, any priest who can get the Church to give him a wife is way out of my league."
"Priest! Me! Wash your mouth out, boy. It was my wife that gave the Church this land, not me. Not a religious bone in my body. And now, while Misses Snowbank is gone I'm going to try and catch some . . . is that actually wine?"
"Yes, sir." He'd doped the wine in the bottle, and was feeling a bit apprehensive. Cleared his throat. "Mind you it's medicinal. Herbs and stuff in it."
The old man held out a glass. "It better not have many herbs in it." He took a sip and froze. "Damn powerful spells. Who did these?"
"Err, the names Gisele and Wolf were mentioned."
The old man sipped again. "Doctor Gisele Heath and Wolfgang Oldham. Huh. I'd nearly forgotten them." His eyes sharpened on Kurt. "What are you gawping at?"
"You're Charlie Alpha." Kurt fumbled for a chair and sat down. "What, what?" He through a look over his shoulder. "That woman?"
"My own damn fault. The wife was religious, gave them the lease on the property. Ninety-nine years. When it was up, I just made it for the lifetime of my wife. Now was that stupid, or what? They always make sure I have a wife. Elsie died a century ago. We'd slowed down a good deal, enjoyed just pottering around with the garden. Got out for a concert occasionally. It was good for both of us. But without her, I wanted out of here. They tried to stop me and I got nasty about the lease. They haven't let me get a good nights sleep since. They limit me, speaking of herbs, stuff they sneak into the food, and we both know it. Can't concentrate enough, can't remember." He sipped. "Damn good wine, even without the spells. Hoo Boy. Big Bad Wolf put an aphrodisiac in it."
Kurt turned and heard the approaching footsteps. He jumped and grabbed a towel, wiped the wall hastily and pic
ked up the shards of the bowl.
Charlie chuckled. "Run off now, my wife and I need to have a little talk. Leave the wine."
When he returned a week later Charlie Alpha was sound asleep and Sister Barbara nowhere to be seen. Kurt fetched clean sheets and blankets, and stripped and remade the bed around him. The old man mumbled complaints as Kurt moved him, but never awoke.
Kurt checked the rest of the rooms, and the sounds of his movements brought an apprehensive Sister Barbara to peek in the door.
"Anything else you need washed, Sister?" he asked cheerfully.
"Is he awake?"
"No sister. Want me to give him a shake?"
"No, no. I'll just set out a light lunch for him. I'll bring some for you, too, and you can sit with him. He likes you, heaven knows why."
"Well, he is my hundred generations or so removed grandfather."
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
"He's Charlie Alpha. The Exile. Didn't they tell you, when they married you to him?"
"Well, yes. But that doesn't mean I believed them. He's just an old man, and no one could live for over a thousand years. And he's not the least bit saintly. I've had to actually fight him off this last week!"
"Hmm, well, no, not a saint. He really ought to retire in the Palace, much more his kind of place."
"Indeed. Not the least bit saintly, no matter who he is. I'm ashamed of what he's trying to, well, never mind."
Kurt sighed. "You married him. Surely you expected some sort of relations."
"They said he was too old to even want that. Huh. That first day I knew they'd lied to me. And now this. I'm just fed up."
"Well, you've dedicated yourself to the Church, err, they shouldn't have been able to legally marry you to him, right?"
"I renounced my vows. They said after my five years of service were over, I'd be welcomed back, and at an elevated position. It has been almost five years."
"I hope you got that in writing. Otherwise, perhaps you should contact me once I'm out of here. I'll see you get a pension at least from the family, and perhaps you'd like to manage a small charitable hospital."
"Oh, Prince Kurt! I mean," She shot a frightened glance toward the old man's bedroom, and lower her voice. "That's what I'd hoped the Church would do for me. Maybe even send me back to Huntingdon. I miss the countryside, even though my family's gone."
"Hmm. I've been talking with my father about a territory to the far west. Would you be interesting in starting a free hospital from scratch? Think about it. I can't do anything right now. But it'll go fast next year."
A bright-eyed and not-so starched Sister Barbara set out a lunch for two, but at a thump from the room beyond, fled.
Charlie emerged yawning and grinning. "Damn. That wine was just what I needed to keep that woman away. Slept for the whole week. Might have woke up twice to eat." He sat and took a bite, perfect white teeth gleaming. "What was that you were saying to that women?"
Kurt wound up telling him about the siege of Jeram. And lots and lots about Liz and Lady December and then the God of War.
Charlie frowned. "Damn! New gates. That may not be such good news. At least it's not Earth, the old Earth, on the other side. However weird their religion. Gods on black horses!" He yawned. "And I still need more sleep. See you next week, Prince of Laundry."
Kurt trotted off, grinning. Gods. Gates. And big black horses. I wonder if Charlie Alpha is magical?
Chapter Forty-two
Late Spring 1376
Ash, Kingdom of the West
Yet another Crescent Moon magic lesson. Rustle was able to demonstrate metal working for the young witches who could channel power. After an hour, she retreated with a headache, still unable to hold a decent shield to the other girls' concentrated thoughts, but not as rawly sensitive. Mostly healed, inside. Mostly.
Answer shook her head reprovingly. "I think you had better stay behind on the Summer Solstice, Rustle. Next year you ought to be able to handle it." Rustle was shooed off, and went quickly, relieved to be back in solitude.
Then Xanthic intercepted her, and hauled her to the Wizard's Tower. "Honestly Rustle. We may be nuisances that you wanted to forget, but we never thought you'd actually, really, forget us."
The Tower was a buzzing hive of activity; a colorful enclosed wagon was being loaded. Everyone was mentally quiet as they hustled about. Part of Rustle's confusion was settled when she spotted two Xanthics at once and remembered that they were twins. The other one—once she looked she could tell the difference—grinned at her. "I'm going exploring with Question and Lefty! Starting with the gate here. Have you seen it? Oh, sorry, of course, you made it." She heaved a sack of oats into the wagon and darted off. "Dad! Which horses should we take?"
Rustle'd had no problem spotting the old wizard. If he'd looked any more like an evil tyrant she'd have fled.
"Dydit, I want those pintos!"
Her father stuck his head out of a window up the tower. "They're going to foal in a couple of weeks. I thought you swapped for a couple of new ones in Bleaker's Knob?"
"I want to breed them to Phantom before Rustle starts hiding him."
Her father snorted and withdrew, and the old wizard stumped off and returned with a matched pair of bay and white pintos.
A slightly older version of Young and Xanthic trotted out and plunked two bags in the wagon and shook her head. "I don't know how six of us ever fit in there."
A grinning teenage boy brought his own bag, and climbed in. "We were smaller and we didn't take so much stuff, Mom." He started thumping things around.
Rustle climbed in, and this memory came back fine. She started stowing stuff where it would be handy, with half the food and grain definitely unhandy, and working out from there.
"Aw, c'mon Rustle. Young's clothes ought to be at the very bottom."
Rustle snickered. "But think what your father will say, if he sees an efficient and properly packed wagon?"
Jek sighed. "I suppose. But I want to do what he did – just head out across the New Lands with what I can carry on my back. Or maybe a new World. How far did you explore this one, Rustle?"
"Umm, I don't remember."
"Oh. Right. Well, there wasn't much time, so you probably just checked that the other worlds didn't have anything dangerous, that would make walling off the gate necessary." The tall boy grinned. "This is the one with the prairie and sand dunes down to the ocean."
Question stuck her head in the back. "Yep. We just took a quick look through each gate, before. Now we're going to do a major survey, for a report to the King. Lefty will be here tomorrow, and we'll leave immediately."
"I want to meet strange people." Young's voice came from beyond her sister.
Rustle rubbed her nose. "I met some nice ones, and some scary ones. But Wolf said most of the Worlds just have animals, no people. And I don't think you actually want to meet the weird ones I ran into." She hopped down from the wagon.
Nil looked over the back of the horse he was brushing. "Wolf said that you said they were like power vampires?"
"Yes, and they used radioactive and phosphorescent sands for making large spell drawings. They made a travel spell that grabbed me from about a hundred feet away. And I was really glad I remembered how to fight off a chain spell."
The wicked old man grinned. "Once the Auld Wulf stops looming at anyone who applies pressure to you, I'll want a detailed account of it all." He tipped his head up as Dydit stuck his head out the window again and glared. "And him too, now. Parenthood just ruins a proper wizard."
Rustle snickered, then caught Quicksilver's preliminary cry and tracked her down before she really let loose. Justice handed her over, and checked on Xanthic's Xantho.
"They really ought to have just skipped X this time, but Xanthic really wanted the letter. In fact she was hoping for twins so she'd have Y as well. Silly girl. I think that's why she had her first two so close together. Dusty's just four and Indigo three. They might as well be twins."
Young bounced into the room. "I think she's making up for me not having any, and Question only having one. Should I take some makeup and a nice dress, in case we meet someone?"
Justice shook her head. "Somehow I think you're going to be adding to my grandchild total real soon. I don't really think the wagon will hold much more clothing."
"Save the room for chocolate." Rustled suggested. "Question is entirely unnatural and never brought enough."
"Yikes! Now that would be a disaster." Young trotted back out.
Rustle burped Quicksilver, changed her diaper and headed home. Her Dad caught up with her in half a mile, riding and leading a saddled horse.
"Somehow I don't think you used to spoil me this badly." Rustle handed him the baby while she mounted.
"Well, you never needed it, before."
Which sounded pretty reasonable, when you got down to it.
They rode peacefully back to the winery, and Dydit took the horses away without pressuring her about anything.
She found the Wolf reading in the library.
He held out his arms for Quail and cuddled her.
She snickered. "Big bad God of War. I think I must be a bad influence."
He laughed and followed her when she carried her pack into the marvelous wash room he had.
"You do realize that if you could make these things go by magic you'd be a rich man, selling them to every home in the World."
"Yes. I figure we're about fifty years away from electricity, which will make it all happen."
Clean, fed, baby asleep, diapers washed . . . All she needed was bravery. And to stop yawning. She laid down for just a moment . . .
Chapter Forty-three
Midsummer 1376
Valley of Ash, Kingdom of the West
Rustle sat quietly back and listened to Crescent Moon lessons, half remembering the building blocks she apparently outgrown long ago.
I was so powerful in Joramtown. So confident. I could go back . . . but now I'd know how very vulnerable I am. I'm surprised that Arbolian god and priest, between them, didn't kill me. Perhaps, by Ash standards, they weren't well trained either.
