Menders rose and padded across the room to the water pitcher. He poured the contents slowly and silently into the privy, then replaced it on the washstand. He produced a flask of water from a pocket and handed it to Katrin. She drained it and sighed in relief. It had been a long, dry day.
Menders motioned for her to open the wardrobe. It contained a set of underwear, including a fashionable straight fronted corset, a black gown, stockings and a pair of shoes three sizes too small. Everything was made of cheap, coarse material. No nightgown, no hairbrush or toothbrush, no soap or washcloth.
No wonder Aidela stinks so, Katrin thought ruefully. She probably doesn’t even know what a bath is. She turned away from the wardrobe to see Menders extracting more tightly wrapped bundles from his clothing and opening them.
He’d brought one of her nightgowns, her hair and tooth brushes, adhesive to secure her wig, the lemon soap she made at The Shadows and two towels. She sighed in relief.
Both the corset and dress fasten in the back, she wrote quickly. I can’t get into or out of them on my own.
Order the maidservant to help you, he wrote in return. If I do, short of you growing arms that can fasten your own clothing from the back, I’ll be given away.
Katrin nodded and watched as he produced other flasks of water and then turned his back. She stripped and washed rapidly at the stand, inhaling the delicate scent of the soap, letting it bring The Shadows to her mind. When she slid her nightgown over her head Menders turned back to her and wrote on the paper.
I will have to take everything away each morning, in case they search your room. Don’t try to wear those shoes tomorrow. Come up with an excuse. She’ll keep you standing again and if you wear them, you’ll be crippled. I will have duplicates in the proper size made at Borsen’s.
Katrin was about to scribble a question as to how he knew she’d been standing all day, but then she looked down at her feet. They were unrecognizable, swollen into disgusting sausage shapes. They were beyond pain – they were numb.
Menders set the stool used for climbing into the high bed in place and handed her up, then gently massaged her feet until some feeling returned. Katrin’s eyelids drooped. She was exhausted.
Menders drew the covers up over her, then removed all evidence of her dinner and water having been brought in. She watched him in the feeble light of the single candle on the table. He could be at home, at The Shadows, seeing to it that she was provided for. She turned on her side, finding sparse comfort in the coarse sheets and scanty pillow, enormously thankful to have him with her.
Katrin came to wakefulness moments later when she realized Menders was bedding down on the floor. Clearing her throat to catch his attention, she gestured for the paper and pencil.
My father does not sleep on the floor, she wrote emphatically, moving over against the wall. Menders smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the paper and pencil back and writing just as emphatically. He handed the paper to her, holding the candle so she could see the penciled words.
Everything is all right – sleep well, little princess.
Menders took back the paper, placed it in a pocket, smiled back at her and blew out the candle. Just before she slept, she felt him settling himself beside her on the bed. She smiled. It had been a long time since she’d had a visitation of the blue frogmouth, the nighttime terror of her childhood imagination, and run to climb into bed with Menders.
His presence comforted her as she fell into sleep.
***
Menders let himself into Borsen’s house to find Kaymar and Ifor sitting in the lounge. Borsen was stretched out on the sofa, asleep. Kaymar rose silently, following Menders into the kitchen, where their voices would be muffled.
“Stevahn slipped him something at breakfast,” Kaymar said quietly, putting a skillet on the stove and rummaging in the cool box. “He’s absolutely tormented about Petran being arrested and no word of whether he’s alive or dead. He hasn’t slept well in months.”
“I wish you’d let me know,” Menders said, wearily removing the water flasks from his pockets and rinsing them at the sink before refilling them.
“Cuz, you’ve had enough grief. If I thought he was in danger, I would have informed you. Stevahn had talked him around to going to Surelia for a while just when this all blew up. If this goes on much longer, it might be a good idea to make him go.” Kaymar slung a steak in the hot pan. Menders saw that a pan of mashed tarmon root and another of gravy sat on the back of the range, keeping warm.
“It might indeed. I was horrified when I saw him,” Menders answered, sinking down in a chair at the kitchen table. “Where’s Varnia?”
“Out at the market. Stevahn’s coming home around noon to check on Borsen and see if there’s anything we need. How do you want this steak?”
“Cut off its horns, wipe its arse and put it on a plate,” Menders replied, his stomach growling audibly. Kaymar snickered and turned the meat over.
“How’s Katrin?” he asked.
“Remarkably calm, though terrified,” Menders sighed. “Right now, Aidelia’s entertained by making her stand for hours and taunting her. Katrin can hold her at bay for a while but there is no guarantee of how long Aidelia will remain interested.”
Kaymar forked the steak onto a plate and added two generous dollops of tarmon root and gravy before he handed the plate to Menders.
“Aidelia tires of entertainment rapidly,” he said, taking a chair at the table as Menders tore into the food. “She’s always looking for something new. It’s always sadistic.”
“I’d guessed,” Menders grunted.
“She’s stupid though,” Kaymar continued. “Katrin can probably stay ahead of her but if Aidelia goes into a tantrum, anything can happen. Katrin has to be warned about that.”
Menders nodded, shoveling food nonstop. He’d been ready to faint from hunger and was furious with himself for not having provided enough for Katrin to have breakfast.
“Any ideas as to who is manipulating Aidelia?” he asked once the ache in his stomach had diminished.
“There are a couple of them, as far as Bartan can tell,” Kaymar answered. “He says one fellow has been around for a while. Big, dark hair, hangs right on Aidelia. Bartan says he’s sleeping with her. He has his own Court that’s formed around him.”
“I can’t risk poking around myself,” Menders said, scraping up gravy with a piece of bread Kaymar cut from the loaf for him.
“No – you mustn’t,” Kaymar agreed. “Right now, it’s imperative to keep Katrin safe.”
“Let me finish this and then we’ll sort out plans for different contingencies,” Menders said. “I also have to find …”
Borsen cried out in the lounge. Ifor spoke immediately, calming him.
“It’s all right, Borsen. You’re at home. Menders is here, having something to eat. Can you go back to sleep? No? Well, sit up then.”
Menders closed his eyes.
“Let us see to him,” Kaymar said quietly. “It’s been going on for months and he’s holding up all right. You have to concentrate on Katrin. She’s in immediate danger, Borsen isn’t. No-one is going to get to him so long as we’re here. Even if they got past us, they’d never get past Stevahn, who’s a bulldog when it comes to protecting him and and is a better marksman than any of us, yourself included. He’s got a shotgun behind the cabinet that would cut a platoon in half.”
Menders did not reply.
“Menders, you have to focus,” Kaymar said abruptly. “Get your heart out of it or you’re going to make a mistake that can’t be salvaged.”
Menders drew a deep breath, and then another. Then he nodded and continued to eat.
***
You will have to stay ahead of her, Menders wrote, as Katrin sat wearily at the table in her miserable room at the Palace. She can turn deadly if she goes into a tantrum, so you must avoid this.
Katrin nodded. She’d eaten, but it had done little to revive her. Aidelia had kept her kneeling for h
ours. Every muscle in her body ached.
Menders had rigged a way to keep the room door closed from within, a device that wrapped around the doorknob and then around the doorframe. It gave Katrin a feeling of security to know the door couldn’t be flung open.
Menders nudged her and pushed the paper, on which he had been writing again, under her nose.
Katrin, I need you to be alert. I know you’re tired and afraid, but right now you’re the person who can get the information I need.
“What information?” she mouthed silently.
Who is around Aidelia. Their names, who seems to be manipulating or influencing her. Physical descriptions. Observe the times they’re here, see if there is a pattern of absence and presence. What clothes they wear. Try to hear what they’re talking about and remember it so you can let me know.
Katrin felt a spark of interest. She had been mentally exhausted by the tedium of the day, where she’d knelt or stood for hours without food or water. This would be something to occupy her mind.
Now, why don’t you get ready for bed and get some rest, Menders wrote.
It was the best thing she’d heard all day. She hurried to bathe and change while Menders gathered the papers they had written on and the scraps from her dinner. He’d brought enough food this time so she could have breakfast in the morning. That would help. It had been a long, hungry and thirsty day.
Suddenly she thought of something, pulled her nightgown over her head and turned to him, getting his attention.
“What about you? Have you had dinner?” she mouthed.
He smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry about me,” he mouthed back.
“How is Borsen?” she mouthed. Menders tried to hide it, but concern showed on his face. He took out paper and pencil again.
Strained, he wrote. One of his employees has been arrested and he’s very upset about that – and he and Stevahn are under threat, as you know. He’s holding up well for now, but it’s hard on him.
Katrin sighed and nodded. She had not known that people had been arrested on little or no charge during the time since Aidelia had been crowned, but it had become painfully obvious to her now from what she had overheard during her hours in the Throne Room.
Suddenly she felt mortally tired.
The Palace, Erdahn, Mordania
3
Think Of The Shadows…
D
earest Eiren, my darling Little Bird,
Please forgive me writing in haste, but I need contact with you after this week past. We’re all well, so be at ease about that. For the moment, Katrin is holding her own against Aidelia and seems to be safe. Bartan keeps an eye on her during the day. I would like to send Kaymar in, but it is too risky for him. I stay with Katrin at night and have devised a way to secure her door. I bring food in to her, so she doesn’t risk eating anything provided at the Palace.
Borsen looks terrible. There has been no word about young Petran, his men’s hatmaker, who was arrested suddenly a while back. As you know, Borsen is far from an disinterested employer, and the young man in question is not much more than a boy. He is the only child of a widowed mother and the bonded of Hermann Evanov (Borsen’s fat man). Even Bartan has not been able to get information about him. Many nancy men are being arrested on trumped up charges or no charges at all.
Stevahn had arranged to go to Surelia, out of harm’s way (he is far more frightened for Borsen than he is for himself, so like him), but his father has become seriously ill. His life is not in danger but he will not be able to take over at the bank for some time. Stevahn is unable to leave and Borsen refuses to leave him here alone.
So far, we’re playing a waiting game, trying to find out who is manipulating Aidelia. Katrin is feeding us a lot of information and we’re working on a plan to end this situation once and for all.
Please write immediately, as Kaymar will be returning here after delivering this to you and picking up some things Katrin and I need. Tell me some wholesome and pleasant gossip, whose baby has just said “howgah”, how the garden looks, what you are reading. In this vile atmosphere, I desperately need to know there are places where life is otherwise.
I love you,
M
Darling man!
It was such a relief to see your handwriting! I knew you were all right – Kaymar has been keeping us informed very regularly, but still, knowing you wrote that letter has worked like a tonic on me.
I am sending as many things as I think Katrin can use, including some additions to the list you sent. I am also sending some more things for you, including some black clothing Tomar ran up quickly, so you’ll have a change. I’m including a few of your favorite books. I know you don’t have a lot of time to read, but perhaps they’d help.
I only wish poor Katrin was out of that place and safe! I can hardly bear to think about the poor young man from Borsen’s who has been arrested. No wonder Borsen is suffering so – he cares so much about the people who work for him. I wish he and Stevahn could come to The Shadows for a while, but with Stevahn’s father unwell, I imagine that would be impossible.
Here all are well. My mother has been a bit under the weather but it doesn’t seem to be anything serious. Planting is over. The gardens are particularly beautiful this spring, with all that rain we had over the winter. The lanar tree blossoms are stunning and their fragrance is delectable.
Vil and Petra’s little girl is the next to say “howgah”, though she hasn’t quite managed it yet. She’s very bright and alert and I keep her for Petra while she’s working, when I’m not at the school. It helps to have such a little bit of innocence around, chortling and clamoring to be picked up.
I miss you so. I hope you find a way to help Katrin soon, so you can both come home.
Your loving wife,
Eiren
***
Hemmett sat at Stevahn’s desk at the Rondheim Bank. He and Stevahn had just arranged for his will, a sensible precaution in his current situation. The bulk of his possessions and investments would go to Luntigré and Flori, his military death benefits and pension would help to support his parents and specific mementoes to everyone else.
He was a practical man and years of military training had made him realistic about death. He hoped the weeks to come wouldn’t see him dead, but it was best to be prepared.
Right now, he was stealing a few private moments to write a couple of letters in what had become an endless routine of surveillance, running errands back and forth between Erdahn and The Shadows and attending endless planning meetings.
My darling Luntigré
A note today to let you know everyone is still as well as can be. Endless stalemate here, with Katrin still held at The Palace, Menders there all night and most of the day as well. Borsen looks like he’s being drained by a vampire and I wish Stevahn would just spank him soundly and drag him off to Surelia.
That’s rotten of me. My temper is quite short these days. I hate seeing Borsen so frightened, yet staying where he’s in danger. They can’t go at the moment anyway – Stev’s pa is still very sickly so Stev is stuck at the bank.
I’m sure you’ve guessed, but I must give you the bad news that I cannot be there for Flori’s tenth birthday. Things are very critical, with Katrin under the current Queen’s control. Much is afoot and I am deeply involved. Can say no more, my lovely lady. You know.
I am sending Flori’s birthday gift and a letter for her along with this upside-down letter where I haven’t been courteous enough to ask how you are and what you are doing. Let me know and please forgive my being so gamfoozled, sweetheart. I wish I could be there. I do much better in person.
When this is over I will come there and take you and Flori somewhere wonderful. I always keep my promises.
I love you and the joy you bring,
Hem
A happy birthday to my darling daughter, Flori,
I’m sure Mama has explained that I cannot be with you for your celebration this year. There is a serious situ
ation here that requires me to stay – otherwise, even Demon couldn’t keep me away. I have sent your present along as well, but you cannot have it until the big day! No begging Mama for it early, now. Yes, I know all about you!
Sometimes, Flori, soldiers have to make hard choices and obey orders that keep them away from the people they love. This is where we are now. Auntie Katrin and Grampy need me here to help them. You are old enough to understand that sometimes countries are not run by the best of people. Mama can help you to understand what is going on here far better than I can in a letter.
On your birthday, I want you to have a wonderful time and eat an extra piece of pastry for me. Write back to me to let me know if the present I’ve sent is what you wanted. Give Mama an extra hug and kiss from me too.
Above all, little girl, I want you to know how very proud I am that you chose to make me your Papa all those years ago. I am very, very proud of such a lovely and clever daughter.
So much love,
Papa
A tap at the door heralded Heldstrom, the Rondheim’s trusted eyes and ears.
“Sorry to interrupt you, Captain,” he said, taking off his hat respectfully. “I’ll need your messages now – I don’t have much of a margin to catch the ferry to Samorsa.”
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 59
