Katrin removed the pendant and handed it to Menders, who gave it to the boy. He explained the multiple symbolism in the piece, pointing out the pale gold used for the sun itself and the rays, the silver used for the ghosts of clouds around it and outlined the multiple meanings of the phrase. The young people seemed fascinated. It wasn’t until the next class began filing in and the professor harrumphed for attention that they thanked him and Menders and Katrin were free to leave.
By that time she had calmed down and looked less ready to bite the leg off a chair.
“Those are the young people who should be your friends,” Menders said quietly as he escorted her from the room. “Not that other lot who think it’s reasonable to slaughter people to take their land and resources.”
“It made me sick. I know the theory, but it’s just so absurd…”
“Yet many people in the world ascribe to just that. I was proud of how you stood up to them in there.”
“Someone had to do something other than nodding like so many puppets. I wish I’d kept my mouth shut though.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. Come on, my dear, let’s go home. I’ve had enough learning for one day.”
Saronilla, Samorsa
Simeridon, Artreya
24
Varnia’s Turn
“A
nd so you’ve seen it all,” Gladdas Dalmanthea said, smiling at Varnia, who had just been toured through The Paralda School for Girls. She had traveled to Saronilla from Artreya at Gladdas’ invitation, timing her visit so she could be escorted by Hemmett on his way to visit Luntigré and Flori. “I imagine a cup of tea would be in order.”
“Very possibly a glass of beer too, Sweetheart,” Hemmett agreed suggestively. Varnia shook her head at him, but couldn’t resist a smile.
“Oh, we can manage,” Gladdas laughed. She turned to a young woman who was walking their way and gave directions for tea and beer to be brought to her quarters. Then she linked arms with both of them and led them out into a courtyard garden, where both Varnia and Hemmett were grateful to settle on two conveniently adjacent benches.
“I was surprised to see you have male teachers,” Hemmett said as Gladdas settled herself next to him and sighed in relief to be off her feet. Her walking stick was in evidence that day, so her knee must be acting up.
“There are men in the world, and our goal is to prepare the girls for the world,” Gladdas replied. “We don’t have the male teachers in residence, for their own comfort as well as the girls’. As you know, girls can develop crushes and it’s best that the gentlemen don’t live on campus. Doesn’t Eiren have male teachers at The Shadows Academy?”
“You’ve got me there,” Hemmett laughed. “I guess I was imagining an all-female institution.”
“Now you can’t believe all those rumors that I’m a man-hating old tommygirl,” Gladdas guyed him. “I have nothing against the male sex – I couldn’t work so closely with men in my network if that were the case. In fact, I wouldn’t mind a teacher of tactics for my girls who are training for espionage, if you’re interested.”
Hemmett blinked.
“Tell me more,” he said.
“I require them to learn about tactics so they know what to look for and what to report on if they’re assigned to a military matter,” Gladdas explained. “I don’t need to know that a general takes two sugars in his coffee, or goes to the privy every three hours. It’s also valuable in teaching them how to make choices while they’re in the field, how to weigh their prospects and actions. I hear you’re a good man with tactics from more than one source, and that you’re a good teacher as well. It isn’t a class that is taught daily – I’d need you three to four times a year for several days. Does that fit in with your visits to your new family here?”
“Indeed it does,” Hemmett smiled. “I’m in.”
“We’ll work out a schedule and a syllabus,” Gladdas replied. “And as for you, Varnia – I would like a teacher who would do the same thing for the girls who follow the housekeeping management curriculum – several days of class at intervals during the year.”
Varnia gasped.
“Me?” she said, feeling foolish the moment she did it.
“Dear, I spent quite a lot of time at The Shadows and I oversaw the housekeeping staff often. I saw your organizational methods and your notes, your schedules and your paperwork. You attended Chetigre’s cooking school and Cook assures me you’re her equal or more in the kitchen. You’re eminently qualified to come here as a special teacher for the girls who are working toward being professional managerial housekeepers – at hotels, hospitals, private homes.”
“But – when I get back to The Shadows there’s my job there,” Varnia stammered, not knowing what to say.
“And mine is there too, but I will be coming to Samorsa regularly,” Hemmett said, leaning forward and patting her hand. “Don’t get flustered – and don’t automatically turn down an opportunity.”
“I’m not asking you to leave The Shadows,” Gladdas added. “I know you’re devoted to the family.”
“When Borsen goes to Erdahn I’m going along to keep house for him,” Varnia blurted, then covered her mouth with her hands and looked at Hemmett. He burst into a huge haw-haw.
“Varnia, you are the funniest girl,” he gasped when he was finished. “If you don’t think I don’t know everything Borsen plans, you’re mad! We’re brothers, he tells me all. That’s a couple of years down the road – we’re not even at home yet! Don’t borrow trouble, honey. I think you’re going to need a beer too.”
“Yes, let’s go in, tea and beer should be ready,” Gladdas smiled. Varnia was glad for the walk and by the time they reached Gladdas’ quarters, she was calmer.
“I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” she said bluntly. “I’m thrilled by the idea. But how to get here on my own and – well, how would I teach? I’ve never done so.”
“Hemmett, how will she get here?” Gladdas smiled.
“If you’ll be willing to have us both here at the same time, she can travel with me. She knows I’m not going to make unwanted advances. Once she’s familiar with how the connections are made, I would feel confident about her traveling within Samorsa alone, but I wouldn’t like her to try it in Artreya. We’re getting ahead of ourselves here and worrying about logistics.”
“Kaymar and Ifor have both accepted similar positions,” Gladdas said, handing a slice of cake to Varnia and another to Hemmett. “Those are other people you could travel with. Menders would be delighted to help you plan your travel and he’s a master of logistics. As for never having taught – think of it this way – you will be showing young women what you already do very well. You may be as formal or as casual with your teaching as you wish.”
Varnia started to smile – and then she did something none of The Shadows family had ever seen her do. She grinned.
“I’d say that’s a big yes,” Hemmett laughed. “Well, well, the two new teachers. That gives us some bragging rights, doesn’t it, little sister?” He reached out and ruffled Varnia’s hair.
***
My dear Menders,
This letter will be brief, as I am sending it back with Doctor Franz and he must catch the train within the hour.
Varnia’s father is dead and the only creature to be credited for ridding the world of him is an old milch cow. He was found a week ago, gored and trampled near the gate leading to the pasture he usually couldn’t be bothered to let the cattle into. At first we suspected the sons, who are nowhere to be found, but eventually we located an old cow with dried blood on her horns. She had a small calf at her side that shows signs of being thrashed with a heavy stick. The herd apparently pushed through the gate after being without food for two days. In the process, they trampled his body.
We’re assuming the sons found him dead and scarpered. Not knowing what was in the house, I can’t say if they took anything of value or not – doubtful, considering the condition of the place. We’ve put word out thr
ough the grapevine that should they return to the district, they’ll be dealt with as the cow dealt with the father.
So the Polzen farm is no more. We have taken all the animals back to The Shadows, where they are being properly cared for. They are enjoying their new pasture with great relish. I decided to dry off all the cows that aren’t nursing calves. Their condition is deplorable, but not irreversible. There are some chickens, sheep and geese as well, and two cowering but reclaimable dogs.
The Polzen buildings are in terrible repair. I have taken steps to have the property placed in Varnia’s name under the provision that the sons have abandoned the farm and there are no other relatives. I am attaching a valuation of the farm for her information.
Franz is leaving now, so I must close.
In brotherhood,
Hake
Menders sat back in his chair, holding the letter.
He had spent a great deal of time in conversation with Varnia since the night she had run out of the house in her nightdress, fleeing the horrors that haunted her sleep. As she became more confident of her place in the family, she had begun to build a foundation of self-respect and dignity for herself. She was fiercely loyal and had a deep compassion for others, particularly children. Her quick temper and anger had receded to a reasonable level.
Her attachments among The Knot had grown deep. She and Katrin thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. Hemmett had gently and carefully provided non-threatening friendship and was almost moved to tears when Varnia spontaneously introduced him as her brother one day. Borsen was the darling of her life and she had a free and easy friendship with Willem Robbins.
It had taken her longer to be comfortable with the older men in the party, particularly Kaymar, who exuded sexuality despite trying to “behave” as he called it. Menders considered it a watershed moment when he walked into the lounge to find Varnia allowing Kaymar to assess her ankle, which she had twisted painfully and thought she might have broken. As Kaymar pronounced her ankle sprained but intact, she sighed with relief – and left her foot on his lap, chatting with him comfortably as he massaged the painful joint.
Menders dashed silently back to his room and whispered the news to Eiren. They had valtzed silently around, delighted the problem child was so well on her way to learning to trust and to take joy in her life.
Gladdas offering Varnia a teaching job had given her a degree of confidence that was the final polish. Menders felt that the news of her father’s death would not set her back.
Varnia came in from a visit to the Simeridon orphanage where she spent several afternoons a week helping some of the children learn to read. Menders had seen her in action and often wished she had been there when he was trying to find a way to help Hemmett understand and remember the alphabet years ago. She had a wonderful affinity with children and the ability to see things as they did. She could pinpoint what was confusing a child and explain it in terms they understood.
“When you have a moment, I have something of importance for you to read,” Menders said as she greeted him on her way to put her hat and wrap away in her room. “Don’t be frightened, dear, I don’t think you’ll consider it bad news.”
When he handed her the letter, she read it rapidly. She stood stock still for a moment, looking into space. Then Menders could see her shoulders relax, as if she had shrugged off a heavy backpack. She closed her eyes and took a deep, easy breath.
“I know the very cow,” she said, as if she could see the animal before her. “Old Manya. I named the animals when I was younger, until so many of them died horribly – then I tried not to love them so much. She’s an old darling, but very protective of her calves. She used to fight when they were taken away.”
Menders put a hand on her shoulder and she opened her eyes.
“Sit down here and tell me about her,” he invited.
Varnia sank down on the sofa and Menders perched on the ottoman before her.
“She was one for using her horns. She never hurt me with them, but if you were in her way she would hook one around your waist and nudge you aside. I never had any doubt that she would do much worse if she felt threatened. The old bull, Roysen – he was a mild creature too. I used to set my little brother on his back and Roysen would walk along as gentle as a pony. I hope he’s still alive. I would love to see him again.”
“I’ll ask Hake to send you a list of the animals that were taken to The Shadows.” Menders noted that it was the first time Varnia had mentioned her younger brother, the child who died when their father left him to “take his chance”.
“That would be wonderful. If you’re wondering if I’m feeling sorry about my father, I’m not.”
“I didn’t when mine met his end,” Menders replied. “There is nothing wrong with that, Varnia, not in your situation.”
“I didn’t look at the second paper,” she said, reaching for it.
Menders handed her the valuation for the Polzen farm. Her eyebrows went up as she saw the figure.
“Would it be worth this if all the buildings were burned or knocked down?” she asked, looking directly at Menders.
“Yes. That valuation is for the land. If anything, removing the derelict buildings would increase the value,” Menders answered.
“Then I would have them knocked down and the cellars filled in,” Varnia said. “I have no desire to farm it or live there – or to see the house and other buildings again. Could it become part of The Shadows?”
“I would be glad to buy it from you for The Shadows. It’s excellent land with a great deal of potential,” Menders told her. “The price would set you up, if well invested according to the Moneybags principles.”
She smiled at him. Once she had jokingly called him Mister Moneybags when he was explaining investment possibilities to her and he enjoyed teasing her about it.
“Would it be a competency?” she asked, a little tentatively.
“More than that. You would be an independent young lady.”
Varnia looked down at her hands while her eyes flooded with tears.
Her hands showed years of relentless toil on that ill-run farm. Some of her knuckles were still enlarged from chilblains, and though faithful application of lotions and creams had softened and improved her skin, it showed signs of exposure to the elements that would never be erased. Her hands were no longer cracked and raw, but if she wanted to remember endless hard work, all she had to do was glance at her knuckles.
“It would buy you a lot of gloves,” Menders smiled. Varnia looked up at him. She collected gloves because of her hands, but she hadn’t realized he’d noticed.
“All that is over, my dear,” he told her, patting the scarred hands. “You need never work like that again.”
“When we go home, I want to continue on as head of housekeeping,” she protested. “The work at The Shadows is easy. It didn’t do this damage, the farm did. I enjoy being the supervisor of housekeeping.”
“And so you may. The Shadows will always be your home, Varnia, whether you wish to work there or not – but the money from your farm will give you a great deal of freedom. One day, you might want to leave The Shadows, if the circumstances are right. I want you to have the security to do whatever you wish. This is your opportunity to achieve that.”
“Could you go ahead with the sale then?”
“Well, I can’t act for both you and The Shadows – it would look very suspicious. Think of someone in Mordania who could represent you in the sale, and we’ll go ahead with it. You’ll get better than market price from The Shadows, I promise. Then I’ll help you set up your money so it will grow and provide you a good living.”
Varnia nodded, her face still very serious.
“May I ask that a portion of the farm be used for something?” she asked. “Can that be part of the conditions of the sale?”
“Indeed.”
“Then I’d like to see some of it used for those animals – and other animals that are getting old or are hurt and are no longer o
f use.
I know there is practicality in slaughtering them, but so many of them serve us for so long. Manya would be worthless as meat unless you threw it to the dogs, but she’s provided years of milk and calves for market. Old Roysen as well – he probably couldn’t serve a cow to save his life at this point, but I’d hate to see him slaughtered. Maybe I’m a fool, but I think that might be a decent thing to do.”
“Miss Polzen’s Animal Refuge,” Menders said thoughtfully. “I like the idea. It couldn’t be across the board or we’d have hundreds of chickens that don’t produce eggs, but yes – it’s something that would make sense in many cases. We have older boarhounds that deserve better than a bullet in the ear when they can no longer work – and I have some Menders’ Men getting longish in the tooth who love animals and might be interested in such an endeavor.
“I tell you what,” he continued, rising to his feet and offering her a hand up. “I believe this would be an excellent extension of The Shadows Academy. You know Eiren has always provided agricultural education as part of the school curriculum. What better practical application and way to keep the animals productive?”
“Yes! Oh – and Menders? How do I change my last name?”
Menders blinked and then smiled to himself. He had quite a history of young people wanting to change their last names, beginning with himself. He had used Menders, his mother’s surname, since he was eleven years old. Borsen had asked him the same question years ago and chose to use Menders as his last name. Now this young lady was seeking the same thing – for good reason.
“There are legalities, not difficult to sort out. What name are you considering?”
“I thought of Menders, but then I thought I’d like to use my mother’s name, Bayard,” Varnia said. “I’d like to make it what she might have, if she’d had the opportunity. I loved her very much.”
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 28
