Seventeen Stones

by Vanessa Wells

  The dress swirled around her ankles; it was made along the same lines as her uniform skirt, but in a bright blue that looked fantastic against her skin. She loved the crocheted border that had been painstakingly attached to the hem and neckline. She added thin leather shoes and a light shawl that she had picked up the week before.

  Vivian hadn’t been kidding about her offer to show the others around the marketplace. She’d never been to the City as a child of course, but a good half of the shopkeepers had dealings with her father. He was the head of one of the major merchant families, due to some wise investments by his own father (who was wanded) and his grandfather (who had been the head of the merchant’s guild at one time). All of this meant that Vivian knew every shop worth visiting in the City, and exactly how much one should pay for the merchandise. She knew which shops would barter and which ones prided themselves on exclusivity.

  Mia had seen the shawl in the City market, with one of the traveling traders. Vivian had offered to bargain for it for her. “Those traders are pretty sharp. It won’t come cheap…that’s a type of wool that they raise from long haired llamas in the northern mountains.” The shawl was as soft as a lamb’s wool, spun into a silky thread and knitted into cloth that was patterned with raised triangles. Mia, who’d done her share of knitting, was enchanted.

  Lizzy, Beth, and Ella had wandered over to another shop while she and Vivian had dickered for the shawl. Sarah had gone with her mother to visit relatives. Ella had tried to bow out, but Mia had begged until she came. She seemed to be having a good time, and Mia was determined to limit her own shopping since she knew that Ella couldn’t afford to do much. The only thing she’d seen all day that tempted her badly was the shawl. She was glad, after they bought it, that Ella hadn’t heard the final total.

  The traders seemed happy to see Vivian too. The older woman pulled her aside while Mia was paying. She didn’t catch the entire conversation but the quiet phrases she heard were enough to peak her interest. “No Barbra, that’s not in the guild’s charter and he knows it. If Greatlord Burns isn’t doing anything…”

  Mia managed a quick question before they met up with the others. “What was that all about?” Vivian shrugged. “Just guild business. The merchant guild’s Greatlord is pretty useless. Barbra had some goods seized by Greatlord Strathorne. She just wanted me to let my dad know, so he can press the issue at the next guild meeting. She’s heading north after they finish here. The fishing villages are deserted until it’s too late in the year for the boats to be out. It’s a good time to trade up there, in the winter. Provided of course that you don’t get snowed in…maybe they’ll bring back some more shawls like yours. I need one, but I want mine in deep green.”

  Mia smiled as she remembered the conversation. She added the shawl to the dress and wandered down to the dining area, where her sleepy friends were having their first cup of tea.

  Vivian smiled as Mia walked up. “Oh, I love that color on you Mia! And the shawl is perfect with that dress. Do you think it will be warm enough?” Mia shook her head. “I think so, it’s so light you wouldn’t think it would be as warm as it is, but right now I’m too hot.” She said as she carefully laid the shawl across the other end of the table. Sarah looked up from her book. “When are you leaving for the estate?” Mia answered as she grabbed the floating plate of sticky buns. “In about an hour. The solicitor said that the carriage would pick me up in front of the building.”

  Sarah frowned and then rolled her eyes. “Oh! I forgot! Men can’t come inside the dorm without a special key. It would have been terribly rude to tell you to wait outside otherwise. Would you like us to wait downstairs with you?” Mia asked if they minded. Lizzy laughed. “Not this morning. It’s perfect out there. Now if it were as hot as it was in August….” She pulled a face and daintily speared another slice of fruit from the floating trays. On rest days the dining rooms served food buffet style.

  After breakfast, Mia packed a bag with her homework, parchment, and pens, and went downstairs to wait. Vivian eyed the heavy bag with distaste. “Why” she asked “are you carrying half the library?” Mia shrugged. “Mr. Smith, my solicitor, said that the carriage ride would take about two hours. I packed all my homework so I would have something to do. Even if the roads are terrible I ought to be able to manage the background reading for Professor Cavendish and if I’m lucky I can write a first draft of my practical applications paper for Theory.”

  Vivian sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, you have a perfect excuse to slack off, and an adventure a mere carriage ride away, and you bring homework! If it were me I wouldn’t be able to sit still for the carriage ride, much less get any work done!”

  Sarah caught Mia’s eye and cocked a blond eyebrow, but refrained from commenting. She and Mia occasionally found Vivian’s energy and lack of focus a bit of a trial. Mia grinned at all of them. “Maybe I won’t be able to sit still, but I’m more likely to if I have something to read. It’s not like Professor Cavendish ever assigns anything dull.” Mia absently rubbed the bruises she’d earned while doing the latest project for the professor.

  The chimes poured liquid notes through the air, signaling the arrival of the nine o’clock hour as the carriage rolled up the paved street. A liveried footman (thankfully sans powdered wig) hopped down from the back of the carriage, opened the door, and pulled out the step so that Mia could climb up. Mia glanced back at her friends and waved a little before she took the footman’s hand. She was deposited in the seat, the step was put back in place, the door shut, and the footman hopped lightly up on the back of the carriage. The coachman snapped the reigns to signal the horses, who set out at a walk to avoid the students who were already out. Mia tried to glance back at her friends, but the curtains across the back window defeated her. She told herself to stop being a ninny, and firmly pulled out her Botany books.

  The carriage that belonged to the estate was the most comfortable coach she’d ever been in. It was extremely well sprung, so the ride was smoother than she’d expected. On the outside it was identical to many private carriages in the City, mostly black with steel fittings. On the inside it was upholstered in kid-skin leather, with a small magelight, a table that pulled out of the door and a compartment spelled to stay cold for food and drinks on long journeys. She was pleased to find it stocked with juice and snacks.

  Mia finished her reading and turned to the practical essay for theory. She hadn’t quite finished her work when she noticed that the view was obscured by a high hedge. It went on for some time and then suddenly opened up into a series of parks and gardens. She put her work away, aware that they must be close to the estate. Less than ten minutes later the carriage stopped. Mia barely felt the footman jump off the back.

  A second later the door was opened and the step pulled out. She stepped out and faced an army of servants; lined up in front of the manor, ready to be introduced to the heiress they had never seen. She fought the urge to turn around and hop back into the carriage. As she had that panicked thought, the carriage rolled away, removing that option, however impractical it might have been. Surely these people couldn’t all work for her?

  A man with a smattering of iron grey hair and an old fashioned cravat stepped forward. “Welcome Miss Amelia. I am Mr. Hawkins, your butler. If you please, the staff will present themselves and then Mr. Dempsey, the steward will join you for the luncheon.” Mia nodded, swallowed hard, and tried to paste a pleasant smile on her face. The butler took her to each of her new servants and introduced them. She met everyone from the housekeeper (Mrs. Wallace) to the three upstairs maids (Anna, Jenny, and Marie). She was told the coachman was predictably named John, and the gardener was a young man named Sebastian. He took her comments on the beauty of the grounds as an artist’s rightful homage.

  The stableman was another John, and he won Mia’s instant gratitude by mentioning that the stables could outfit her for a ride if she had time to visit the grounds. Mia thanked him warmly and added “I don’t kn
ow if I will have time today since it’s my first visit, but I will take you up on that John.” The man grinned, showing a missing front tooth and tipped the flat hat he wore, and shuffled off toward the stables.

  It was a large staff, and it took over half an hour to meet all of them, shake hands, and say a few words. She was drained afterward, but knew that she should have expected an introduction of some sort. Everyone would want to put a face to the name, and give her the once over.

  Mrs. Wallace escorted her to a comfortable sitting room, answering Mia’s hesitant questions as they walked. “Bless you child! No, we don’t have communication mirrors on the coach, why the mistress didn’t even have one in the house, said she didn’t want to be disturbed by City business when she was here on the estate. No, John Coachman has a bit of a gift for bird speech, and so do I, so when he gets about halfway he asks a bird to tell me, and the bird comes and pecks on my window. Now when your mother, the Greatlady was alive, we’d have a fair bevy of visitors here, so I would set my birds to watching an’ they’d let me know when someone was coming.”

  Mrs. Wallace was a tall, big boned woman who carried a great deal of extra flesh without being precisely fat. Her hair, which had been flaming red in her youth, was now faded to a mild peach color. It was currently up in a matronly bun. She wore a dark brown dress, with hints of ecru lace at the cuff and neck, and sensible leather shoes that might have been older than she was. She moved stiffly, indicating either joint pain or too many years in the City in her youth.

  The sitting room was frankly luxurious, decorated in navy blue and gold. Mia sat in a navy on cream striped chair and Mrs. Wallace said “Now, I’m off to see to some things Miss, if you wait right there, Mr. Dempsey should be along shortly.” Mia realized, too late, that she had left her bag with her books in the carriage.

  Mr. Dempsey arrived more quickly than she could have hoped. He rushed into the sitting room, slightly breathless, but in excellent spirits. “Miss Amelia! Mr. Frederick Dempsey, at your service. Sorry about my tardy appearance, but the buggy I took to the village busted an axle, and I was in a bit of a fix to get back.”

  He led Mia to the breakfast room. It was tiled in golden sandstone, and had a breathtaking view of a formal rose garden. White marble fountains played tinkling music while the last blooms of summer scented the air.

  Mr. Dempsey smiled at Mia’s wide-eyed look. “Yes Miss, it’s one of the most fantastic views in the house. The ballroom looks out into this garden as well, so it’s one of the prettiest in the place. Sebastian, the gardener, is insufferable about it.” He laughed and attacked his food as it floated into the dining room. During lunch, he told Mia what had happened with the buggy, between quick bites.

  “We don’t use the buggy that often, just to run to the village to pick up a few things, or over to the home farm. We use the carts for most errands. I suppose the buggy couldn’t handle that last bump. The blacksmith will have it fixed tomorrow, but it caused a bit of a problem getting home. I had to borrow a saddle from Mr. Stubbs at the local home for wanded children.” Mr. Dempsey blushed inexplicably and changed the subject.

  “Mr. Smith should be here by now. I can’t imagine him being late for anything. He and my father are the trustees for the estate you know.” It turned out that the elder Mr. Dempsey had been her mother’s steward since Alexandra Rusticov was a small child and her own parents died. Mia hadn’t even considered the possibility of grandparents, aunts, uncles or cousins. There was a sense of loss in the new knowledge. Thankfully, the young steward was preoccupied with his plate and didn’t notice anything that might have passed on Mia’s face.

  The current steward of the estate was very young for his position, only just twenty-five. He was well trained, but Mia was given the distinct impression that the position was considered by him, and by everyone around him, as contingent on her approval when she came of age.

  Mr. Dempsey had the typical old blood coloring, black hair and blue eyes. His skin was tanned from constant exposure to the sun. It made his teeth seem very white when he smiled, and he smiled often. His face was unlined, but lacked the stiffness that would come as he used his wand more often, if he ever did.

  He grinned again as he told her “I went to college and got my wand, but I apprenticed here at the estate. I never wanted to stay in the City. Better to live out here, where a man can breathe, and do something other than exhaust himself waving a stick around all day.” He nodded to the gardens. “I’m tied to the land here. Three years in the City were a misery for me.”

  As they ate, Mr. Dempsey told her a little about the estate, his father, and what he did. “Da tried to hang on, he really did. I was here to help, so I took as much off him as I could, but of course he wanted to handle everything himself. He wasn’t young when he had me…we’ve never used a lot of wanded magic, being as close to the village as we are, so he was thirty-two when I was born. His heart failed last summer and the local herbalist was sitting right there, or he’d be dead. She convinced him that he would have to retire. He’d been grooming me for the position since I’d told him that I still wanted it after going to the college. I just had to take it up earlier than we expected.” He smiled in a sardonic way. “Mum allows us two hours a week to discuss estate matters, so we haven’t lost him entirely. And sometimes, if there’s something pressing I sneak over and ask him a quick question or two. But mostly we leave him be. He’s happy with his woodwork and volunteering. He donates the toys he’s whittled to a home for wandless orphans twenty miles away. He spends his days making toys and complaining about my shocking lack in providing him with grandchildren.” His smile faded around the edges.

  Mr. Dempsey admitted that there wasn’t a Mrs. Dempsey as yet, but Mia suspected that there would be one soon if he had anything to do with it. They left the table when Mr. Smith arrived and declined lunch. “I ate on the way out Miss Rusticov. If you’ll accompany me to the office, we can begin going over the books.”

  Two hours later Mia was very ready for the tea tray. It was even more complicated than she’d dreaded. The estate was like a small city, producing products like clay and finished pottery, food products like wheat and corn, and breeding animals, particularly unicorn crossbreed racers and hunters. The crossbreeds favored the horses more than the unicorns, but they had a fineness of bone, a lightness of step, and speed that was unmistakable. Unicorns didn’t care for riders, but the hybrid horses didn’t seem to mind. They weren’t quite as intelligent as a unicorn, but they left the average horse gasping for breath literally and figuratively.

  The estate also collected tithes, provided goods for the local wanded home and wandless orphanage, and negotiated with the City for the protective spells that kept the villages safe. A certain quota of grain and goods were sent to the City every harvest. Accountants for the council kept strict records of the tithes. Mr. Dempsey’s records were equally precise, because dealing with the CTA (City Tithe Authority) was a nightmare. Mr. Smith wasn’t alone in hoping that Mia would become a Greatlady. Many of the tithes were cut in half for the Greatlords and Ladies, and those who could set their own protective barriers were able to add the fees normally paid to the City to their own funds.

  Mr. Smith apparently decided that full emersion was the best way to become acclimated to the affairs of the estate. When they sat down in the office, he pulled out the books and started asking rapid questions of Mr. Dempsey, pausing to explain to Mia only when she asked a question. “The north fields produced more this year, I noticed. That’s three years running. I think we can safely expand the use of the new fertilizer to the other fields now. I’d also like to try it out in one of the orchards…” She noticed a large map of the estate the moment she walked into the office; it was hard not to. It was shaded in rainbow hues that changed every time Mr. Smith tapped the frame with his wand. Apparently the colors meant something to the gentlemen, because they kept cross-referencing them with the ledgers.

  Despite the fact that she had to puzzle out many
of the cryptic comments they made, she felt that she’d gotten a pretty decent overview of the estate. It was harvest time, so she had a good idea of what was being grown and sold and for how much. It must be a vast estate to have so many animals and pastureland and orchards.

  When the tea tray came in Mr. Dempsey excused himself, saying that he had a few things that he needed to see to this afternoon. Mr. Smith smiled fondly after the young man as he left. “He’s as honest as his father, and even harder working. Came back from the College and settled into the position like he was born to it.” Mia poured another cup of tea. “The books seem to be in excellent order.” Even she could see that everything was strictly accounted for. “I assume he’s been a responsible manager for the estate?”

  Mr. Smith grinned. “Yes. He works too many hours, but he had his father as an example, and the elder Mr. Dempsey rode this estate from sunup to sundown. He was a good friend of your grandfather’s.” Mia tucked that bit of information away for later.

  They went over a few other details including the rental of the estate town home, and the rent on the manor itself. “It allowed us to keep our trained staff. I hope you approve. The lease expired last month. I’d like to extend the lease on the townhome for another two years, since you won’t be able to make use of it until then.” Mia agreed and he moved on to the next item.