“How are your family?” he asked, shifting to sit against the headboard. Luntigré reclined with her head on his belly.
“Sad, of course. Samorsans look at death differently, Hem. They understand I’m going to leave and they are happy that I feel peaceful. Of course it is a hard thing for us all, but we face it together.”
Hemmett stroked her hair back from her forehead.
“Flori?” he asked softly.
“She’s well. She was the first to notice that I was ill,” Luntigré answered. “We have talked many times about important things. She would rather have her mother stay with her, of course, but she understands that I will still watch over her and love her.”
“And will you watch over me and love me?” Hemmett smiled.
“I don’t know. Such a wicked man,” she laughed. Then she reached up and pulled him down to her for a kiss.
“Always,” she whispered. “I will always watch over you and love you, my bold young man who flirts so outrageously.”
He smiled, remembering leaning on the counter of her stall and blatantly asking her if she liked what she saw. Thank all that might be thanked, that she had.
“Hemmett – Flori has said she would like to live with you when I go,” Luntigré said.
“Of course,” he answered instantly. He saw the relief in her eyes and sat her up beside him.
“We have never engaged in nonsense or guessing games,” he said, holding her hands in his. “If Flori wishes to live with me, she will live with me. I’ve been her father for eight years. I’ve been thinking about buying the townhouse between Vil’s and Kaymar’s. I wouldn’t want to take Flori to The Palace the way things are now.”
“Poor Katrin,” Luntigré sighed.
“Poor all of us. Flori doesn’t need that. Is there any reason why she doesn’t want to stay here?”
“She’s closer to you than to any of the family. You have so much more in common – your music, your frankness, your silliness. Also, Flori does not wish to join the family business. She doesn’t care much for cooking. She wishes to design ladies’ clothing and to continue studying music.”
Hemmett’s eyebrows went up.
“She couldn’t find better place to do both than Erdahn,” he responded. “So long as your family is not hurt…”
“It is Flori’s future. My mother and sister understand. They also know you would be sure that she visited. There would be no jealousy, no hard feelings. Montigré has four children and they all love the restaurant business. Flori is fourteen – almost fifteen. She knows who she is and what she wants. I could think of no-one I would rather have her with.”
“You make me proud, my lovely,” Hemmett whispered.
***
“I will need to go there often, and when she becomes too weak to manage, I’ll stay with her until the end,” Hemmett explained, standing before Menders and Katrin. “I know my being here when Menders isn’t helps you, Willow, but Luntigré is dying. I want the time.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to stay away from her, Bumpy,” Katrin answered softly. Her eyes were full of tears.
“Thank you,” he replied.
Menders blinked and cleared his throat.
“How can I – how can we help you and Luntigré?’ he asked.
“For one thing, I need to buy a house,” Hemmett replied. “I’ll also need a housekeeper, because I don’t want Flori rattling around by herself. She’s quite the young lady now, but not quite ready to be entirely on her own while I’m on duty.”
“She’s coming to live here?” Katrin asked, a touch of eagerness in her voice. Hemmett saw Menders look at her in surprise.
“I’m her father,” Hemmett smiled. “She wants to live here with me. I will need help from all of you once she’s here. She’ll need to adjust to living in Erdahn as well as to the loss of her mother.”
“Of course,” Katrin said. “I wonder if Varnia could help us find a housekeeper – or is there someone at The Shadows who would suit, Menders?”
“I believe that there might be, since Petra’s mother is widowed now and doesn’t want to stay as a tenant farmer. I’ll make some inquiries if you’d like, Hemmett.”
“I would. Thank you both – and now I have to talk to Vil and see what we’re going to do about scheduling.” He nodded and walked away toward the stairs.
Katrin turned toward Menders and was shocked to see that he had tears in his eyes. She felt awkward – at one time she would have gone to him and put her arms around him, but they were distanced from each other now. There had been too many arguments, too many tense moments.
“It’s all right, princess,” he said, taking out his handkerchief. “That beautiful woman... Hemmett... the child… Please excuse me, my dear.” He walked away into his bedroom and shut the door.
Katrin went to the window and looked out at the skyline of the city through her own tears, thinking about losing Luntigré – thinking about Flori coming to Erdahn and how she could help her.
***
Hemmett sat beside Luntigré’s bed, holding her left hand in both of his. Flori was on the bed beside her, while Chetigré gently massaged Luntigré’s feet and legs at the foot of the bed.
Luntigré’s remaining time had gone quickly and peacefully. There had been happy times during the three months when Luntigré had enough energy to go about. They had revisited favorite spots and explored a few places she had always wanted to see. There were family gatherings and quiet times with only Luntigré, Hemmett and Flori.
Then Luntigré began to fail and was often too tired to rise from her bed. Hemmett let Menders know the end was coming and stayed in Luntigré’s apartment, taking over the day to day running of their lives. Flori left school and spent all her time with her mother, reading to her, helping her bathe or dress, bringing small gifts of flowers or loving letters she had written.
Each day was a gift to Hemmett. The four years of Katrin’s reign had been marked by heartbreak, frustration, anger and stagnation. He had often forgotten what it was to feel at peace. Here he was seeing his brave lady facing her death like a warrior, showing no fear, accepting what would be. There were tears, of course, and regrets that she could not stay longer, but they passed easily because she didn’t try to hold them back.
Then a greater peace came into the room that had become their world. During the last two weeks, Luntigré had become serene as she waited to drift into the world of spirit.
The sun was setting when Luntigré woke from the sleep that claimed her most of the time now. She looked at Chetigré, who rose and bent over her daughter. The big woman stroked Luntigré’s hair and kissed her, smiling into her eyes. There were no words. Then Chetigré sat at the end of the bed and placed her hands on Luntigré’s feet again.
Luntigré looked toward Hemmett. She smiled to see his hair, unoiled and curling, backlit by the sun, as it had been when he’d come to see if she would have him. Words were beyond her now – she hadn’t the strength to speak. Hemmett didn’t need words. He knew.
“I’ll take care of her,” he whispered, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. “You can go without worry, my darling girl.” Their eyes met and he felt her joy flowing into him. He smiled, then turned Luntigré’s head so that she could see Flori.
“I’ll listen for you on the wind, Mama,” Flori whispered. “I’ll know when you are near. I love you. Thank you for being my mother.”
Flori gazed into her mother’s eyes until they closed, slowly, gently. Then she rested her head on Luntigré’s breast and sighed.
Eirdon’s moons were new and setting in the lingering sunset light when Hemmett felt an infinitesimal movement of Luntigré’s hand, as if she had pressed his fingers in farewell. Her last breath was no more than a gentle whisper, her eyes closed, her face smooth, the slightest smile on her lips.
Chetigré felt her daughter pass and pressed her lips to her oiled, perfumed feet, as she had so often done when Luntigré was a baby. She lowered her head to rest on them, try
sting with memory.
Flori heard her mother’s heart beat slowly down to silence. Her tears flowed down without pain.
Saronilla,Samorsa
Erdahn, Mordania
10
Transplanting
H
emmett waited while Flori walked slowly around the apartment that had been her home for almost fifteen years. Most of the furniture and decorations were being shipped to Erdahn so Flori would have them for her rooms in the townhouse Hemmett had purchased.
Flori seemed to be impressing the place on her mind. Her movements were unhurried as she moved from room to room.
“Flori?” Hemmett waited until she looked at him.
“Do you not want to go, sweetheart?” he asked gently. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’ve changed your mind.”
“Oh, I want to go, Papa,” she said, coming over to him. “I was just looking at how the light comes into the apartment. I always thought it was so beautiful. But it’s time to leave, because everything that was home is already on the boat to Erdahn.”
“Very good,” Hemmett smiled, picking up her valise. He let her go down the stairs ahead of him. On the street, he offered her his arm.
“Do we have time for a stop?” Flori asked as they started down the street toward the docks.
“More than enough, unless you want to be fitted for handmade shoes,” Hemmett answered. “What’s your pleasure? Hungry?”
“We just ate, Sir Stomach,” she laughed, easily using the funny nickname her mother had given his appetite. “I would like to have my hair cut, like a modern Samorsan woman. It’s for my new life.”
He looked down at her.
She was going to be a stunning woman, like her mother. She’d inherited her mother’s black curls. She’d always worn her hair long – but now was a time of changes.
“We certainly do,” he assured her. “Let’s find a lady barber.”
They were both pleased with the result. The shorter locks framed her exotic face and brought out the symmetry of her features. Her eyes were devastating, as dark as her mother’s and just as lustrous, long lashed and almond shaped. Her mouth was sensual and naturally pink, contrasting dramatically with her copper skin.
“I believe I’m going to have the loveliest daughter in Erdahn,” Hemmett smiled as he paid the barber. “Any other stops you’d like to make? Grandmama and Auntie and the cousins will be seeing us off.”
“No more stops. We’re on our way.” She took his arm and they began their journey.
***
Borsen turned the pages of Flori’s sketchbook slowly, taking his time over each fashion design. Flori waited, seemingly calm – if you didn’t see her right foot twisting back and forth, back and forth, Hemmett thought. He exchanged a glance and slight smile with Menders, who could also see that foot in its elegant shoe, twisting a swirl into Borsen’s carpet.
“I can tell from your drawings that you can sew,” Borsen said, looking over the book at Flori. “How well?”
She almost said something modest but then remembered who she was talking to. Borsen hated false modesty and she wanted very much for him to be her future employer.
“I sew very well, Uncle Borsen,” she answered. “Mama taught me and she was a wonderful seamstress.”
“Yes, she was indeed,” he said, going back to the book. Flori’s foot picked up the tempo.
“How long until you turn fifteen? I’m bad about dates,” Borsen asked abstractedly.
“Three weeks.”
Borsen nodded. He reached the last sketch and carefully closed the little sketchbook, putting it down on the desk blotter before him.
“Are you wondering how I knew you could sew from your sketches?” he asked.
“Yes, a little bit,” Flori admitted.
“You don’t design anything that is impossible to sew,” he explained. “You know the limitations of the craft and materials and work within them. There are no absurd, impossible to sew designs in your book. At not quite fifteen – I am impressed, Flori.”
“And impressing him isn’t easy,” Hemmett added.
“Quiet, proud papa,” Borsen said, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in amusement. “This is a job interview.”
Hemmett snorted comically and crossed his arms.
“Flori, I would definitely like to have you here as an apprentice designer,” Borsen said, looking directly at her. “But I think we need to come to agreement on a few conditions.”
“He just doesn’t want anyone here who’s prettier than he is,” Hemmett murmured.
“Hemmett, would you like me to call in a big man to escort you out of my office?” Borsen asked with mock patience.
“That would have to be a very big man,” Hemmett muttered toward the ceiling.
“We will ignore his misbehavior,” Borsen said to Flori. “My concern is your education, Flori. Fourteen – let’s say fifteen since it is so close – is very young to leave off formal schooling altogether. I would like to see you put in some more years of study.”
“I don’t care for school,” Flori ventured, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“Borsen didn’t either,” Menders said. Flori turned to him in surprise. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t continue to learn. Eiren and I set up a curriculum for him and she did most of his tutoring. He still writes out lists of spelling words every night because he had a great deal of trouble with that subject.”
“That’s true,” Borsen said as Flori looked at him in amazement. “I have a terrible time with spelling, so I memorize a list of twenty words every evening. Would you consider working with a tutor for a couple of hours a day and whatever independent study that would involve?”
Flori nodded.
“Good enough. One other condition. If you should find you no longer wish to be a designer – if you work at if for a while and realize it is not for you – I want you to tell me. Don’t be afraid, or convince yourself that since I’ve spent time training you it would be ungrateful to tell me the truth. I’m not capable of lying, Flori and I expect honesty from the people who work for me. Can you promise me that? If things change, you need to let me know.”
“I will, Uncle Borsen.”
“Then you are my apprentice. Surprised? That isn’t because you’re my niece – it’s because you’re that talented. We’ll have to find our way, because I’ve never had an apprentice before. I think half days to begin with. You need time for study and to get used to living here. Pay is fifty florins a week. Is that acceptable?”
Flori nodded, delight on her face.
“Well then, I say we have lunch,” Borsen smiled, rising to his feet and checking his watch. “The restaurant here does an excellent Seven Spice Soup, which is what I’m starting with. Why not go ahead with your grandfather? Papa and I will catch you up after we’re done with the legal matters.”
Hemmett and Borsen could hear Flori burst into excited chatter the moment she and Menders cleared the doorway of Borsen’s office. They laughed into their hands until she was out of earshot.
“Poor darling, she pawed a great divot in your carpet,” Hemmett said, scuffing the spot to get all the nap going in the same direction.
“That is exactly how I would have interviewed any young person with the same abilities,” Borsen explained. “Don’t worry about that, the cleaning crew will sort it. Now, you’re her legal guardian?”
“Yes, that’s all settled.”
“Excellent – I’ll ask Varens to have the paperwork drawn up and we can get her working as soon as you think best. If she’s anything like you and me, she’s wanting to get to work.”
“Well, Luntigré always remarked on how much she was like me, so there we are,” Hemmett grinned. “She needs projects and goals, that’s certain. Never happy when she’s at loose ends.”
“Well, I’ll keep her busy. She could have quite a distinguished career as a designer – she might even become a great designer,” Borsen said seriously. “The potential is
there. How are you both weathering Luntigré’s death?”
Hemmett put his hands in his pockets.
“We have our crying spells – together and separately. We talk about her a lot. But Luntigré made sure we were prepared and she was so calm and peaceful that it wasn’t a terrible experience. We miss her, but there was no fear or horror at her death – not like what poor Eiren and her family went through.”
Borsen flinched.
“Yes, that was ghastly. I want you to know I don’t believe in making apprentices do pointless or dirty jobs, just as Tomar didn’t with me. Flori will actually be working on designs, she won’t be sweeping the floor or running errands.”
“I didn’t think she would. Are you ready to eat? I’m about to chew off my own shoes.”
“To the restaurant then,” Borsen laughed.
***
“Flori being Samorsan will simplify arranging security for her,” Hemmett said. “Acceptance of reality is a large part of Samorsan culture. If she understands the reasons for it, she’ll adapt to it readily. She’ll fight like a langhur against anything she considers unjust or unfair but something necessary and sensible is another matter.”
“It needs to be as unobtrusive as possible,” Kaymar added. “I wouldn’t feel confident about any girl her age going around Erdahn on her own – and much as I hate to say it, Hem, her association with you could make her a target.”
“I’m well aware of that, no need to apologize,” Hemmett replied philosophically, taking out a cigar.
“May I join you gentlemen?”
Cigars went down, chairs scraped back and five astonished men were upstanding for the Queen of Mordania.
Katrin had braved a flight of stairs to walk into this meeting. She had not ventured below her own floor in the Tower in two years. Hemmett could see her pulse pounding at the side of her throat. He immediately led her to his chair at the head of the table.
Menders filled a glass with water at the sideboard. Fear had brought Katrin out in a sweat and it was obvious from the way she swallowed repeatedly that her mouth and throat were dry. He bent over her as he put the glass in her hand.
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 68
