The Clearing (Medieval Tale Book 2)

by Lina J. Potter

  Jess’ father told him that August wanted a son-in-law who was willing to work and who would be able to manage the boatyards once he was gone. And he wanted a young man who would take loving care of his daughter, instead of being ashamed of her for having a father in trade.

  Jess was young, wealthy and nobody’s fool. He wasn’t ashamed to handle money with his own hands, and he was close to the royal family. The engagement was speedily concluded.

  But then, one thing after another caused the wedding to be postponed. The Ativernese believed that Maldonaya always punished the humans she loved the most. She must have had a special place in her heart for Jess. Immediately after the engagement, his father died and Jess went into deep mourning for a year. He had no intention of breaking the engagement, but he spent the time of his mourning traveling the kingdom and attending to his father’s affairs. He had never known how much lay on the old earl’s shoulders. The king trusted Jess just like he had trusted his father, and the young man did everything he could to be worthy of that trust.

  Jess was so busy that he never had time to see his future bride in person. Lilian lived in the country, and it never seemed convenient to go her way. Her father sent him a satisfactory portrait of a green-eyed blonde with generous breasts and a sweet smile. She looked nothing like Magdalena, and Jess felt that was for the best. Then, six months after the death of his father, his grandmother in Earton passed away. Jess immediately went to the estate to take a look at his inheritance. He went away disappointed.

  Earton was a lonelier spot than he had appreciated, and it had poor soil. At the place where the estate ran down to the sea, dangerous reefs prevented building a harbor. He saw no way to make any money from the estate. Its only use was for hunting. Earton seemed to be an inheritance from Maldonaya. Jess brought in a manager and promptly forgot all about his family home.

  The next time he visited was for his wedding. The disappointment was overwhelming. Lilian turned out to be twice the size of her portrait. Her eyes were almost obscured by the fat of her cheeks. She blushed constantly and spoke so softly that he had trouble hearing her. He tried to talk kindly with her, but she kept her eyes on the floor. It never occurred to him that she was simply embarrassed to be talking to such a handsome young man. He mistook her shyness for stupidity and her nerves for affectation. He was tired from his long journey, and Lilian’s incongruity with the ideal he had imagined of her put him off entirely.

  On their wedding night, he drank wine to make himself brave and did his best to make an heir, but everything went wrong. His new wife looked nothing like Magdalena or any of the other women he had slept with. Instead of laughing and enjoying his caresses, she lay deathly still, with tears sliding down her cheeks. He knew that aristocratic women were not supposed to derive pleasure from lovemaking, but even so, he was accustomed to a different reception.

  There was a rift between them right from the start. At first it was a narrow one, but it widened as time went on. His wife looked at him with terror in her eyes, and Jess could not understand what she was afraid of, since he never beat her or raised his voice at her. After a while, it was too much for him to bear, so he sent her to Earton. He would have sent her farther away, but he didn’t want a falling-out with August.

  Jess felt like a beast in a trap. The longer he was married to Lilian, the more she disgusted him. And the hopelessness of his situation – he couldn’t even tell anyone how he felt – made him feel like a hunted animal. “Don’t upset your wife. Don’t anger your father-in-law.” Uncle Edward had explained to him how important the boatyards were for the kingdom – as if Jess didn’t already understand – but it was torture to feel that his life was a business deal.

  Never once did he wonder about Lilian’s feelings. He didn’t care for his wife, so he avoided being in her presence. Adele was completely different. She was sweet, and gentle, and delicate, but all he could offer her was a place as his mistress. Alas, he was in a trap: he would never be allowed to divorce Lilian, but he was too good of a man to hasten her demise.

  Maldonaya take her!

  Meanwhile, Jess’ wife was re-reading his father’s letters to his grandmother. Something in them kept bothering her. Why didn’t the old woman care about any of her grandchildren? Why was she so angry? So what if Jessamine was the king’s mistress? She wasn’t working in a brothel.

  Lily looked back at the page. “Aldonai has blessed us doubly…” She flipped through several pages. Jessie was asking for forgiveness again, and then she announced “I am expecting joy again…”

  Finally, Lily laid all the letters out in order by date and read through them again, underlining the places that she found odd. Then she wrote out her own questions.

  Why did Jyce never bring his children to Earton?

  Why did his mother show no interest in his children, even though she seemed to love her son?

  Why didn’t Jyce write to his mother about his wife’s pregnancy? In fact, I don’t think he ever wrote to her about his wife at all. He mentioned her name – Alicia – and that was it. Later, he wrote “Aldonai has blessed me with a son and a daughter.”

  Lily thought he didn’t sound like a happy father. But, truth be told, she didn’t know much about fatherhood in her new world. She chewed on her lip. Something about those letters just wasn’t right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Damn it! I need information, especially about my husband!

  She decided to write to Helke and ask him to find out more about the past two generations of Eartons.

  Jessamine was Edward’s mistress when he was prince and later when he became king. She may have had his children, but they would have been illegitimate. That’s no big deal, Edward wouldn’t be the first king to have “natural” sons and daughters running around.

  Suddenly she had an idea. It was so unbelievable that she was afraid to consider it. What if her husband was the son of Edward and Jessie? Was that even possible?

  Say, if Jyce and his wife couldn’t have children of their own, or if the king needed to avoid scandal.

  Lily called for Emma. Through questioning, she learned that a child born out of wedlock, even if its father was the king, was considered a disgrace. A royal bastard could never hope to be more than a baron, and his mother would be severely punished.

  I see. Ativerna isn’t like Versailles, where women boasted about the number of children they had borne for the king.

  Lily learned that in her new world, a woman who gave birth outside of marriage was shunned, even if she was a widow and a member of the community.

  I guess they don’t mind people fooling around as long as there’s no proof.

  Is it possible that Jyce wanted to help his sister, and that his mother was angry about it? You bet.

  Lily wondered if she was making too many assumptions. Life isn’t like a romance novel, with illegitimate children hiding under every bush.

  She sighed and started to flip through the old letters again. Then she turned to her accounts. Emma provided her with regular information on the household expenses, and Lily was teaching her how to do double-entry bookkeeping. When that was done, she talked with Pastor Vopler and did her daily prayers, which felt like a useless waste of time.

  On the other hand, she was learning quite a bit from the pastor about the laws, morals and customs of her world. As he told her stories from his own life, she collected little bits of valuable information. For one thing, she learned that she had the last word on meting out justice on the estate, but only when her husband was away. She also learned that a married woman retained control over her “maiden share,” which was land or other property that her father could invest to provide her with extra spending money. However, a husband could seize control over his wife’s property at any time, unless her father had drafted a watertight contract.

  From what she learned, Lily realized that her father was her only hope. She would have to keep him as an ally. Jess was an unknown. She would have to reach an agreement wit
h him eventually, but first she needed to know something about him.

  How am I supposed to do that?

  Her few memories were all one-sided, like a corrupted file that’s been damaged by a virus. She couldn’t judge the whole file by the scattered pages she still had access to. The people around her presumably knew a lot about Jess, but she couldn’t exactly ask them without arousing suspicion.

  She did have one small success: she had managed to beat a good deal of information about her husband’s business affairs out of Shirvey, in addition to learning how and how much he had stolen. All it took was a couple of Virmans and a hot iron.

  But that still left her with little she could use. Lily had no idea what he liked and disliked, what he dreamed about, or what he was allergic to, and she had no way to find out.

  I can’t exactly ask the servants.

  So, she worked with what she had. When she told Miranda stories, she slipped in little questions. “What would your father have done?” “What stories does your father tell you?” “What would your father think about that?” “What would he say?”

  Mirrie loved her father and was happy to talk about him, but she had little useful information for Lily. Papa was strong. He was smart. He traveled a lot. He loved the king.

  Who else can I pump for information?

  Suspicion was a dangerous thing, and she knew that she had already given rise to more suspicion than was healthy. She was entirely too nosy for a countess.

  It’s a hard life!

  Helke watched the mayor intently. Should he speak or not?

  I’ll feel him out first.

  “Honorable Torius, here is your share of the profits for the past five days.”

  The baron smiled and put his hand on the bag. It clinked pleasingly. “Doesn’t feel like much.”

  “People still aren’t sure about what we’re selling,” Helke replied, repeating the countess’ words. “Once they are convinced of the quality, sales will go better. For now, we are working with an eye to the future. I expect we will earn ten or even twenty times more once these things are in fashion.”

  The baron smiled sweetly. He loved his profits tenderly, sincerely. Helke decided to risk it.

  “Sir, I have heard some strange rumors lately.”

  “What kind of rumors?”

  “Someone is planning to burn down my workshop and kill me.”

  “Who is it? I’ll have him arrested and interrogated.”

  The mayor was entirely indifferent to Helke’s fate. Whether alive or dead, an Eveer was an Eveer. His profits, however – that was another matter entirely.

  Helke said nothing.

  “So who is it?”

  “People say that the countess had an unpleasant run-in with a group of young men,” the jeweler hinted quietly.

  It took Baron Avermal several seconds for Helke’s words to sink in. When they did, he turned beet red and leaped to his feet. If Helke had said another word at that moment, Torius would have wrung his neck. But the jeweler said nothing. He just sat there. The mayor realized to his horror that the man wasn’t lying. He was telling the absolute truth.

  Torius Avermal stared at the jeweler. Helke refused to look away.

  “Who told you that?”

  “Forgive me, Honorable Torius.” He gave a deep bow. Torius realized that the jeweler would not give up his source. He was angry enough to howl, but he restrained himself. He would not have been mayor if he allowed himself to show his anger at every turn. Upon a moment’s reflection, he saw that Helke was doing the right thing. The jeweler could have left town already, but instead he was risking the mayor’s anger in order to warn him. After all, if Darius burned down the workshop, his father would have to sentence him to burn at the stake. Years and years ago, King Hendrich the Third had ruled that arsonists should be put to death by fire. If a man burned down someone’s house, he was to be tied to a stake and burned on the ashes of that same house. Hendrich’s law had been issued in response to a particularly bad instance of arson that took out half of the palace (and several city blocks). Arson was something that could not be excused.

  “I will handle this matter.”

  “I am grateful to you, sir.” Helke bowed.

  Torius reflected that this was a stroke of luck. If Darius had gone through with it… He knew his son was incapable of properly planning a crime, much less of pulling it off. The thought was laughable. He would have a serious talk with his son that evening. In the meantime, Helke would have to leave. Where could he go?

  “Sir, the Earton estate is not that far away.”

  The mayor looked into the Eveer’s dark eyes. They were clear and intelligent. He was no aristocrat, but he wasn’t a fool, either, unlike too many young men of noble birth. The mayor of a provincial town could not afford to be arrogant. And Torius was smart.

  “Earton…”

  “Yes. If I could count on your help to make it happen…”

  The baron nodded. “And with the moving expenses?”

  “Honorable Torius, you have read my mind.”

  “Why not. But I will have to see a larger percentage of the profits.”

  “Sir, you are cutting me without a knife.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I will have to see what the countess says.”

  Torius nodded again. “Write to her. While you do that, I will find a captain to accompany you on the way. I think you’re better off to go by land than by sea.”

  Helke was in complete agreement.

  That same evening, Darius Avermal was beaten within an inch of his life and placed (or laid, rather) under house arrest with bread and water to keep him alive until he saw the error of his ways.

  Lily was tired of lying in bed, but she couldn’t get up. The strain of the past few days had left her prostrate with a fever and limbs that she could barely move. When a servant girl burst into her room with eyes the size of dinner plates, Lily greeted her as a welcome diversion.

  “My lady, the Virmans!”

  “What happened?”

  “Virmans, my lady!”

  “I understand. What about them?”

  “There’s a crowd of them outside the gate. The captain of the guards won’t let them in, but their leader is a terribly big man and he says that they have an agreement with you.”

  Lily dragged herself out of bed and threw on her clothes, once again grateful that her dressmakers had provided her with clothes that could be put on quickly and without much fuss. Then she leaned heavily on the servant girl’s arm and started off down the hall.

  “The biggest Virman said they have an agreement, but Leis said he won’t let them in, and then our Virmans wanted to let them in, but the soldiers surrounded them and wouldn’t let them do it.”

  I don’t need a battle right outside my door!

  When she found him, Leis Antrel was standing on a platform above the gates and shouting at someone Lily couldn’t see. She heard her name and then more shouting. She started to run.

  All of the castle’s residents and servants were standing on the wall in expectation that there would soon be a glorious fight to watch.

  “Stop!” Lily bellowed. “Let me through!”

  “Let the countess through!” Mary’s soprano rang out. People began to edge out of the way. Looking down, Lily saw her small group of Virmans inside the walls. They were surrounded by soldiers, like wild animals surrounded by dogs during a hunt.

  “Leis!” she screamed. After a profanity-laced tirade that lasted about two minutes, Leis finally deigned to turn his attention to Lily. He threw a blasphemous gesture at someone outside the walls and climbed down to where Lily stood. He even bowed.

  “My lady, there are Virmans out there…”

  “There are Virmans in here, too.” Lily pointed at the scene inside the walls. “What the hell are you doing surrounding men who are on our side?” She couldn’t stop herself from adding a few more choice expressions.

  He took her profanity with stoicism.
“They wanted to open the gates.”

  “Of course they did. Why didn’t you just tell them to wait?”

  “But my lady, they…” the poor man started to hiccup.

  “Put your weapons down!” Lily yelled at the men on the ground. “Now! Or I’ll send you to the devil! There will be no infighting here!”

  The Virmans responded first, dropping their swords and axes.

  “That’s better. Olaf and Ivar, I’m fining you one silver coin each for disobeying the captain of the castle guards. Leis, you’ll pay the same fine for this whole ridiculous situation. I don’t ever want to see a circus with clowns like this again. All of you get back to where you belong!”

  None of the men understood what a circus was, but they began to disperse. The countess was in a foul mood.

  “Lily!” someone called out.

  What is Miranda doing out here?

  Lily picked up the little girl and immediately wished she hadn't. Her shoulder felt like giant claws were ripping at it. She suspected the stitches had burst.

  This won’t be fun.

  “Mirrie, where’s Martha?” She looked up and saw Martha running after the child.

  “Lily! What’s all this?”

  “Nanny, take the baby. Don’t come back outside until I come get you.” Lily spoke quickly in a tone that commanded obedience.

  “I’m not a baby!” Mirrie whined.

  Lily pinched her nose. “Of course you aren’t. Now listen to me. I need you to go warn Pastor Vopler so that he’s ready to run if need be.”

  “Aren’t the Virmans nice?”

  “Ours are, but I don’t know what’s going on outside. So warn the pastor and then go to my bedroom. Take my jewelry box and wait for me there.”

  Mirrie nodded. Martha sighed. She took the girl by the arm and turned to leave, but then she glanced back around at Lily. There was something strange in her eyes, but the countess was too busy to notice.