Marshsong

by Nato Thompson

  The Persembe Family was the youngest of the great Houses. They had arrived in exile from the refuse of a good idea gone wrong—a people’s revolution turned anti-aristocracy. Cries of “off with their heads” encouraged the extended family to head out with buckets of ducats. They had vast sums of money from a long line that had ruled the badlands of Xerxes so long ago. They were royalty and always intended to be so. Even if they were outside their original homeland, in Barrenwood they had set up camp a few generations back. The patriarchs were brutal before and they were brutal now. They knew, as Machiavelli had wisely stated, that fear was an emotion that exceeded love when it came to power—and thus fear was cultivated.

  This reputation lived with them today although the sisters had not one drop of that attitude. They had been long removed from that tradition. These daughters were the apple of their father’s menacing eye. In one hand he held an iron fist for those under him, and for his daughters an open pocket book.

  The sisters were very much part of the inner workings of the city, but more importantly, society itself. What their father possessed in force, they compensated with social tenacity. Their father ruled with the assistance and might of his younger brother who strode the world as a giant. Gengils was his name—Gengils, as in Gengils Kahn, spreader of seed and conquest. His brother’s infamy in the city was well known, but he merely stood behind every word of Anuk Persembe. Behind every word—a stick.

  The four major houses were House Persembe, House Ellington, House Imbetta, and House Revan, which served as the leading house of them all. Like all ruling houses, they pretty much detested each other and yet also only saw each other. There remained under these great Houses, a vast array of minor houses, including Caliban, Percy, Darkglass, Gent, Nero, Chillbach, and Netherton.

  Yosune was the eldest sister. A sandy brunette with sharp cheekbones and large chestnut eyes, her personality blended the arduous qualities of stern boredom. As the eldest, she had unfortunately found her role as the enforcer of order and sanity in a variety of situations untenable. Thus, her disposition moved toward the dependable yet moody. The ring on her finger told of an engagement awaited to a man she barely knew. She would stare at it often and wonder if that finger actually belonged to her. Just a finger with a ring. She would marry. She wouldn’t complain. Going through the motions was her destiny and she had no urge to fight it.

  Rana, on the other hand, was dark venom. With abundant black hair that seemed to not know which way to go, she was not only boy crazy, she was girl crazy and world crazy all at the same time. Her appetite was only matched by her fast moving anxiety. She could almost be described as incredibly beautiful, but her appetite for drink, cigarettes, food and everything else in life made her a little rounded on the edges. She laughed often even when she found nothing funny. She liked being disheveled because it often offended people and offending people was entertainment. She loved being royalty and hated it. She loved not having to work and knew if she weren’t rich, she would be destitute. She had no skills to speak of. In fact, she avoided learning anything. Her attitude toward life was an almost negative form of learning. Isabella saw much of herself in Rana, but not necessarily the parts that she wanted to cultivate. If anything, Rana put forth elements many wanted to keep at bay.

  And finally, Sibel, the youngest, the mouse, was assumed sweet because she rarely spoke. The darling of House Persembe, she was the apple of her father’s bellicose eye. She always had a book in her bag and while the other two prattled on, she was often in the corner reading or writing in her journal about boys. Her eyes would stare at the page with an odd ferocity and her chittering teeth would be at work chewing on her nails nearly down to the quick.

  “Good evening, ladies,” Isabella stated coldly as she made her way into the Burgundy Salon to take her place at the front of the room. She shuffled onto her seat and set her shoulders straight. The sisters bowed low before her.

  “Good evening, Lady Isabella,” the sisters said in unison.

  “Please grab a chair. Heinrich, could you please fetch me some grape juice? I trust Heinrich has provided all of you with drinks? Good. Before we get to the business at hand, let's get to the real point of this meeting. Gossip, anyone?”

  The girls laughed and wiggled in their seats. It was all a little high school like, but the subject was dirt. They loved dirt.

  “First, let me say, dear Isabella, that I am already drunk, said Rana, her hair whipping about the room in spasmodic shifts. “Yes, it is true. Drunk in that way when the first touch of alcohol hits your lips and the intoxication runs right through your veins. I have that feeling. Right now. That said, if I had to be a snob, which I don’t have to be, but if I did, it must be said that they should import from Condillac Ranch which has a far superior collection. What is the gent's name? Hazmat?”

  “Heinrich,” Isabella corrected.

  “Yes, Heinrich. I will let him know. This place deserves a far superior array.”

  Isabella stared blankly at the trio. “That isn’t dirt. It’s pretense.”

  Rana blushed. Her bold gallantry never usually backfired, but with Isabella, she was used to being put in her place.

  “True enough,” said Yosune piping up. “As you are most aware, Lady Isabella, we are sadly only privy to the rumors and innuendos of our tired houses up in the hills. It is for this very reason we are enjoying our precious time with you. So I hope you will indulge me if all we can say is what is happening up on high languishes in the realm of dullards.”

  “I don’t expect any less. As boring as your rumors and lives are I am all ears for your situation. Rumors from the houses are more or less what I expect from you. Do you think I come to you to hear about actual meaningful subjects?” said Isabella. They didn’t know if it was an insult or fact. For Isabella, there really was little difference. She looked down on them with her flat black eyes.

  “Okay. Okay. Let me start,” said Yosune. She didn’t want to displease Isabella. She knew this small creature was more temperamental than she appeared. “Let's see, it is rumored that Faroos Imbetta is quite ill. He has been shut up in the attic of the home with the good doctor of Valencia.”

  “Oh, don’t start with that,” broke in Rana. Her impatience rarely surprised anyone. “That old man has been ill since we were born. That is just how he looks. It’s not news to say an old man is ill, for god’s sake. They are always ill. Ugh. If that is news I could shoot myself right now.”

  Yosune narrowed her eyes on her sister. It was a classic look that said keep-it-together. “I have it on good authority this time it isn’t just a case of age. That would make their daughter Fereshteh the head of the house, which is only reasonable since she pretty much runs it anyway.”

  “I actually like her,” said Sibel as though coming out of a daze. She had been staring at Isabella’s chest to confirm that she actually breathed. As of now, she still couldn’t tell.

  “So do I,” nodded back Yosune.

  Rana interjected a little more quietly. “So now you know, there is an old man not well. Well, that is all fine and good, but I have heard that Minasha Darkglass has been even more strange than usual. The longstanding rumor, if longstanding rumors are okay to say in this room, is that she plays with dark magic, but let's face it, wearing bones around your neck certainly invites that kind of gossip, don’t you think?”

  Sibel giggled, “She sure smells like magic, doesn’t she?”

  The girls all laughed. Minasha Darkglass was, in fact, all magic after all.

  Isabella raised her eyebrow. She hadn’t expected the name of Minasha Darkglass to come up without her prodding and having it emerge on its own made things all the sweeter.

  “I want to know more about this Minasha Darkglass. Besides the fact that she dresses odd, do you have anything else? Surely that is gossip, but it doesn’t strike me as any with merit.”

  Yosune started in. “It is useful to note that most of the daughters of the great Houses have all spent a fairly signif
icant amount of time together. While there are numerous families we have experienced enough get-togethers to have us all corralled together. We have played with Sasha and Melissa Revan, though they are much older than us; Carly Revan, who is more our age and a pretentious little twat; Marilyn and Chelsea Revan who are the children of mean man Blount (and didn’t Chelsea get put in the loony bin? That is a different piece of gossip); Fereshteh Imbetta who is amazing, I think anyone would agree; Jane Ellington, although she has a new surname because she married that plebian . . . ”

  “Stop, it. I think it is romantic,” interrupted Rana again.

  “. . . and Casper Caliban the closeted lesbian,” continued Yosune. “Whew! And those are just a few of the ladies of some of the houses. Now this is all to say that we have spent plenty of time with Minasha as well (even if she is much older than us), and we have watched her get stranger and stranger over the years. She is daughter to the King, and the firstborn, but, believe me, no one in House Revan wishes anything more than to scoot her out of sight. Nevertheless, she is smart and vicious while her brother and heir is a fat childish runt. He garners no respect and it is common knowledge that no one wants him in charge when his daddy passes. But then again, they can’t have the black witch Minasha in charge either, so no one is sure what to do.

  “Minasha married the noble, and boring, Benjamin Darkglass. They have three kids: China, Money and Monkey. She has become all the more gaunt and strange, confirming perhaps one of the more juicy pieces of gossip that have circulated for many years. It is such common gossip among the houses I just realized someone like yourself might not know it.”

  For the record, Isabella did not know any of this. Barrenwood was still a little new to her. Marty being gone had given her an open invitation to the heart of the city and she was ready to dissect it several times. Here she had these ladies opening up to her and she would cultivate it enough to get to who knew what.

  “Oh, I know!” said Rana excitedly. “Right, of course. That is actually something interesting. Perhaps Isabella could do something with this. Can I tell it? Please?” Rana put her hands together and began whispering in the ears of her sisters. It was all a bit of a show, but so grand they acquiesced out of sheer exhaustion.

  “Go on then.”

  Rana continued, “Okay, okay, so here it is. The rumor, which is only part of nighttime stories that our parents told us and has long circulated in the rumors of us ladies, is that House Revan communicates with the other side. You know, like with ghosts and monsters and stuff. That’s why people think Minasha is a witch as well. Because the house needs one.”

  “Why do they need one?” asked Isabella.

  “Oh,” responded Rana a little flustered. “Wait, why do they need one?”

  “They need one,” responded Yosune, ever exasperated by the idiocy of her sisters, “because the houses aren’t what they used to be and in particular House Revan. Something has changed in Barrenwood and the tide is shifting away from the traditional lines of royalty. Desperate times deserve desperate measures and that is why people believe Minasha is a witch. They believe she is talking to the other side to assist House Revan in their time of need.”

  “Let me be to the point,” said Isabella, pouring some grape juice and letting the room sit in silence for a moment in time. “A few weeks ago, when I met with you last, I presented you with quite a substantial sum with the understanding that you would return yesterday with some information. I realize it is only a day late and I am sure there is a lengthy explanation lurking in your minds, but let me remind you that I have little time to spare in this matter. I have treated the lot of you with great leniency and generosity over the last year. You Rana, in particular, would not be alive today if it were not for me. I think it is pointless to remind you of the benefits of maintaining my friendship. And so, please, don’t tell me why I wasted a day expecting you. I just want the details of what I asked for and then I will assume this occurrence shall never repeat itself.”

  She looked into their faces without emotion. She was used to terrifying them. She enjoyed it. They did, in fact, look scared, and it was Yosune who came forth to provide what they had found.

  “My dear Lady Isabella, allow me then to simply apologize,” Yosune pleaded. “Your kindness has been appreciated by all of us. You will be pleased to know that, though we may have been inexcusably late, we managed to excavate some fascinating details. Our findings should prove to be most interesting.” She paused and Isabella maintained a cold silence.

  “We inquired as you asked regarding Big Boy Charley’s attentions. Sibel has a dear friend who works in his office and so it was not difficult to monitor his actions throughout the working day. We followed him at night and made sure he stayed at home. We did this for two weeks and not much had come of it. We had become convinced he lived a relatively ordinary life, that is, for a mayor and all. He even appeared to be remarkably committed to his wife. We didn’t catch him in the act of anything suspicious whatsoever. However, you did ask us to follow up on anyone he associated with that was unfamiliar to us. Well, strangely enough, we hit upon something. It may be nothing of course, but our guts tell us it is something.

  “He heads way out of town to a remote farmhouse and has his driver wait outside. He goes in for some time and then comes back out. On the first visit we thought not much of it, but on the second, we decided, like the super sleuths that we are, to stick around and see whom it was that came out of the farmhouse as well. Luck would have it that two distinct groups emerged. One which we have designated the entourage of a Mr. Castilla as they all wear matching black suits and possess dark mysterious moustaches. And the other, more mysterious perhaps than Castilla, were these mysterious dark-robed men.”

  “Interesting.” Isabella relaxed a little and picked up her eyebrows. “A secret rendezvous of the Mayor. Okay. This is something.”

  “That is correct, madam. We are truly enjoying our private detective work.”

  “How is it you know his name is Castilla and why call his entourage that?”

  “Oh, it is just our guessing game,” smiled Rana. “He is clearly the big dog of the group. He is much older and the rest treat him with great deference. We also heard the carriage driver say to him, 'Watch your step. Mr. Castilla,' which is kind of a giveaway.”

  “Any idea what was said at the meeting?”

  “Unfortunately, not a clue. We did, however, have the great luck to notice that whatever the meeting was, it was not listed in his official calendar at work. We have plenty of contacts inside who could take a look. Whatever the mayor is up to, he is being rather clandestine.”

  Isabella looked at the Persembes. Bringing them into her strange world had been a good idea indeed. Isabella sat pleased with herself. They loved being her detectives and she loved scaring them. They were beautiful and bored and she found them to be a phenomenal adornment to her operatic lifestyle.

  “This is quite interesting indeed. You three have done well. I have another request if you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t worry about us. This is the most exciting thing we have done in ages. We find it entirely enchanting!” exclaimed Rana. Isabella looked up to notice Rana had somehow managed to refill her glass.

  “Enchanting,” said Isabella somberly. “That is one way to put it.”

  “Yes. Oh, we had just begun to think we knew or could know everyone worth knowing in Barrenwood and then the evil eye seems to fall asleep. Sure, Serkan tries to keep us out of trouble, but he is younger than he would like to think. We are our own creatures. We really survive on mystery. You have been our most treasured friend for some time now because of that.”

  “Not because of my money, I suppose,” said Isabella.

  “Oh dear no, though it is appreciated. Money isn’t exactly something we have need for. I hope you’re not offended,” replied Yosune concerned.

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Isabella. She looked at the three women. “Allow me to benefit you with some free words
of advice. Don’t be so naïve as to believe society is aware of the true interworking of Barrenwood. There are many individuals behind the dark walls of this town. I suggest you invigorate your evil eye and for your own protection, don’t let it fall asleep. I would very much appreciate it if you could find your way into the life of Minasha Darkglass. I’m not so much concerned with the city now. I have shifted my attentions to your world strangely enough—the great Houses. I want to know about this witch.”

  The girls' faces went a little white. They didn’t mind investigating the mayor and the prospect of Castilla they found most compelling, but Minasha Darkglass scared them. This task had moved away from fun.

  Isabella felt she needed to encourage them. “I realize she is a terrifying woman and I am sure that you do not relish her presence, but I must tell you that you have far more access to her than I do. You would not be questioned for questioning because it is to be expected of you. Can you do this for me, my sisters of three?”

  “Oh, Isabella. We think so much of you. We will do whatever you want. Yes! The sisters of three will happily query the strange lady,” Rana said, throwing back her glass. Her eyes were wild, but Isabella could tell the two other sisters had acquiesced. The hunt would continue.

  “But we do have a small favor to ask in return. Would you please go out with us tonight? Please?” Rana laughed.

  Isabella ignored the question. Her every meeting with these ladies felt the same way to her as she felt torn between enjoying them and detesting them. It was a pain that never let her jokes or demeanor come out right.