Memory of Morning

by Susan Sizemore

  I took a deep breath and said, "A Public Season! How wonderful! What does it have to do with us?" I added.

  "Now, that is a long and complicated story," Mother said.

  "Mother!" Bell said.

  Mother sighed. "To put it simply, your aunts and I have decided to use this opportunity to go spouse hunting for all available Cliff and Owl offspring. That includes you," she added. She had her arms crossed and a stubborn look to her, as though she almost welcomed the coming argument.

  I opened my mouth to oblige her. I closed my mouth. I mirrored mother by crossing my own arms. I thought about it, which is what I do. Images of two men danced through my head. Two impossible choices. Not even choices, really. I could have as many longings, fond memories, and regrets as I wanted, but I was not stupid enough to hold out any forlorn hope. Dane Copper was already married, for the All's sake! Any liaison with Samel Swan would ruin both our careers, not that he'd ever shown any interest other than all our long hours of conversation. As wonderful as those talks had been, most of them had been conducted in public view while the pair of us perched on a twelve-pounder cannon as 'our spot' on the Moonrunner's main deck. I had to make a start of putting the Moonrunner behind me.

  "How long will this excursion to Loudon be?" I asked.

  "The relations have taken a house in Town for the whole summer," mother said. She was still looking defensive. "I've spoken to the directors of Mercy Home, and they would welcome a freshly certified surgeon's volunteering some time to them."

  Ah, ha! She expected an argument about that as well as complaints about time wasted husband hunting among the better ranks of society. Mother and I had clashed before over her impulse toward complete charity and my interest in acquiring a secure livelihood.

  She relishes argument - uh, lively debate - so I hope she wasn't disappointed when I said, "I think a stint at Mercy House is just what I need. And a few parties and some frivolity would be welcome. I wouldn't even mind meeting the right man," I made myself add.

  "You don't think it's all silly?" Bell asked. "You haven't become even more serious after spending two years at war?"

  "More serious?" I was about to complain that I certainly wasn't all that serious when something that had been said earlier finally penetrated my consciousness. I looked at my sister. "Mother said the husband hunting included me, but what about you, Bell?"

  Bell sprang off the bed and rushed forward to hug me. Star bounced around us, barking.

  "I don't need to go hunting," Belladem said. "I've already found the man I'm going to marry."

  Chapter Six

  Belladem had a great deal to tell, and I was far happier spending my first day back among my family learning the happy news of her romance than having to answer questions about my adventures at sea. Those questions would come and I had stories to tell, but at the moment the separation from my shipmates was a sudden, unexpectedly painful wound and I was glad not to have to deal with it.

  Of course, first I had to deal with the fact that my sister was getting married. Yes, all four of us were adults and living our own lives. Three of us had gone off to war, but-- Married? Bell? Mistress of her own household and independent of our parents. Maybe even of the family, considering who she was marrying.

  Her betrothed was named Dwie Kestrel. He was not heir to the premier Kestrel line, of course. A marriage between him and Belladem would never be considered, no matter how rich the Cliffs were and how famous Bell was, if he was the heir. He was the second son of a secondary line.

  She'd been going on about her Dwie for quite some time when we settled down to tea in one of Mrs. Lilac's parlors in the middle of the afternoon. We were served an herbal mint infusion rather than a proper black tea. It made me wonder if the Framin blockade of our shipping was being more effective lately, but I concentrated on family rather than navy business.

  "How did you meet, you and this paragon?" I asked.

  I knew that he was handsome, charming, charitable, intelligent, kind, good, brave, devout to his goddess if a bit skeptical about the All, had a fine singing voice. I had been shown a miniature portrait of a dark-haired young man in fashionably high collar and dark gray coat - he was handsome, though his hair seemed a bit thin above the temples.

  "He's a cleric, too. I thought I told you."

  "You told me he serves the goddess of Justice. Oh, you mean he serves her. How?"

  "As a peacekeeper and Apprehender," Bell answered proudly. "A criminal apprehender, can you imagine? He tells me it isn't exciting, but he's only trying not to worry me."

  I sat back in my chair, eyeing my sister in impressed surprise. I was impressed at her young nobleman taking on a civil career with less prestige if just as much risk as the military.

  "How did you meet such a man? Did he stop a robber from snatching your bag? Did he keep a murderer from interrupting one of your concerts?"

  Bell laughed. "His temple choir took part in the First Temple solstice festival last winter. We met at choir practice."

  What an absolutely wonderfully ordinary way to meet the love of one's life.

  I was about to say so when there was a light knock on the door and a maid came in. "For you, Dr. Cliff." She handed me an envelope and left.

  "That was fast," I said when I saw the seal of the Naval Medical Home pressed into the wax. I assumed the date of my certificate examination had already been set. But that wasn't the information I found when I broke the seal and read what was inside. I sighed. "Already?"

  Mother looked up from the book she was reading. "What is it?"

  "Bloodletting," I said. "Tomorrow morning at eight."

  "Well, it has been over two years since you made a contribution," she told me.

  She didn't have to serve Ang in this way. Still, she was correct, it had been quite a while, when the normal schedule for bleeding was four times a year.

  "I hope they don't take all two years worth," I said.

  "You better have an extra helping or two of meat at dinner," Mother said. She went back to her book.

  Bell continued talking about Dwie. I went back to smiling and nodding encouragingly. Meanwhile, my stomach twisted with nervous dread. I hate bleeding - at least when it happens to me.

  They saved the bad news until after dinner.

  Not only had father brought along Mr. Cliff, but mother's assistant, Miss Apple was with her, so the parlor was a bit crowded when the six of us settled down to sweets and more mint tea after the evening meal. I was reveling in the taste of a fresh scone covered in strawberry jam when Father said, "Do you know about the Framin invasion of Conn?"

  I looked at mother. The premier line of the Owl family was based in that port town on the northwest coast of Welis. I did not like her serious, sad expression.

  I put down my plate, and tried to fight down a sense of dread. "There was mention of fighting around Conn in a news dispatch Captain Copper read to the crew."

  Every now and then albatrosses - sleek, swift, clinker-built longboats - caught up to naval ships to deliver packets of mail and orders from the Admiralty. Even crew replacements get squeezed in as cargo in the narrow, swift boats.

  "I worried about our relatives when I heard about Conn," I added. "But I hoped--"

  "The town was destroyed," father said. "Owl House was smashed to the ground by cannon fire. Ten people died."

  I looked around in shock at all the solemn faces. I caught and held my mother's gaze. "Ten? But--?" She nodded. "Even great grandmother?"

  I had not loved that formidable, mean old snob, but how could she be gone?

  "Every heir of the premier line was killed," father said. "The secondary line - well, your uncle and mother are now heads of the Owl family."

  "Your uncle Charle is now head of the family," mother corrected. "He and I have worked that out."

  A great deal of information rushed to the front of my mind. Maybe it was my brain's way of distracting me from the sharp pain of loss. Mother and Uncle Charle were twins, so of course
they would jointly inherit. Mother had no interest or reason for returning to live on Welis to take her place among the Four Families of the island. Even so, her social status was raised a few notches, from that of a daughter of a tertiary noble family up to the secondary level of noble society. This improved the standing of her offspring, not legally, of course. In law, we Cliffs were still gentry, but our bloodline was more valuable in the class structure with mother's change in rank, especially in the marriage market we were about to enter. I was about to enter. Bell's future was already settled. Her future Kestrel in-laws must be pleased by this.

  "May I have a sip of your brandy?" I asked father after a long silence where everyone in the room stared at me.

  He brought me a large glass containing the tiniest amount of brandy. I was his innocent little girl who of course did not spend her time at sea sampling huge amounts of every form of alcoholic spirit imaginable, sometimes just to keep warm, never mind dulling fear and drowning grief. Not to mention pub nights and parties at university. Being his innocent little girl, I did not slug down the drink, but sipped delicately. The warmth it passed through me did help. But I didn't ask for more.

  After such a day I was eager to go to bed, to snuggle under warm covers. Hot water was waiting in the bath chamber off my and Bell's room. She insisted I go first.

  I had a bath, a proper naked in a tub of hot water with flower-scented soap bath. Oh, the joy of that! Star circled the tub suspiciously the whole time I was scrubbing and soaking. She didn't like this one little bit.

  "Don't worry, darling, I don't have an octopus in here with me," I told her.

  Belladem turned away from the mirror where she'd been brushing and braiding her hair. "Octopus? Have you--?"

  I held up a soaking-wrinkled hand from under the water. "I'm not ready to talk about that right now."

  "Promise you will," she said.

  "Not right before bedtime," I told her.

  I gave Bell her turn with the water and put on a fresh new nightrail. You have no idea how sensuous the thin, floaty material felt against my skin. After two years of sleeping in a heavy chemise or in my clothes and shoes more often than not, an ordinary night gown was bliss. I whirled, flaring out the soft material around my legs, twisting it around my body until I was dizzy. Then I fell onto the bed and grew instantly disconcerted. It took me a bit to realize that this was because the bed wasn't moving. The house wasn't moving. And it was so very quiet! It was all so alien, as alien as talking to an octopus. I shivered at that memory and sat up when Belladem came into the bedroom.

  "I didn't cry," I said as she got into the other side of the bed. "I found out family had been killed, and it didn't occur to me to cry." There were no tears in me even as I said it.

  "You've been through a lot today," Bell answered. She pushed my head down on my pillow. "Go to sleep. Perhaps you can cry tomorrow."

  Chapter Seven

  Wise Belladem.

  I didn't sleep very well, though. Or cry when I got out of bed long before dawn to stand looking out the window. Green Moon filled a quarter of the sky, pouring gentle light down on the world. Gray Moon was a silver thumbnail sliver. Red Moon was a fiery, distant dot. It was a perfect spring night, so I worked off my nerves and restlessness by dressing quietly - you learn the habit of not disturbing sleeping bunkmates on board ship - and took Star out for a long walk. The dog was totally fascinated by this new world of ours and I tried to match her enthusiasm. I really hadn't expected this return to my normal life to leave me so melancholy. All I could do was hope that I'd get past it in time. Sooner than later would be nice.

  It was after dawn before Star and I returned to Lilac House. People were stirring by then. I begged some hearth-toasted bread and scrambled eggs from the kitchen rather than go through the formality of breakfast, changed clothes, and bespoke a ride down to the naval base which took up half of Seyemouth.

  The Medical Home campus was my destination - not for just my morning appointment with the hematology department, though I reluctantly made my way there first. Only it turned out the building I was directed to wasn't actually divided up into specific departments.

  The bleeding room was not to my liking. Oh, it was meant to be a cheerful place, the walls painted a lively yellow. A blue-and-white floral rug covered the floor. Instead of a bed or patient cot and a work table there was an upholstered chaise and low tea table. I put my hands on my hips and looked around, appalled.

  "This is a waiting room?" I asked hopefully.

  "No, miss," the nurse who'd come in with me told me. "Admiral Glass had two examining rooms set up like this to make ladies feel more comfortable during procedures."

  I sighed. "I see." Unfortunately, I did. "Admiral Glass is a very traditional sort of physician."

  "Oh, yes, miss," she answered cheerfully.

  The All help the officers' wives in his care.

  "Vinegar," I told the nurse - I hoped she was a nurse - who'd escorted me in. "I want vinegar, hot water, and strong lye soap."

  The woman looked at me with her mouth hanging open.

  "By all that's worshipped, we're fifty years on from Dr. Croft's treatise on sanitation and sterilization and people still aren't listening," a man's voice pronounced behind me. His words echoed my thoughts exactly, but with a sarcastic arrogance that left me wincing.

  I turned to him. "Exactly." I gestured around the room. "Do you want to help me roll up this rug and scrub the floor?"

  "No."

  He looked me over, from an impressive height.

  I looked him over, matching his unabashed curiosity with my own. He was not only very tall with perfect posture, he was slender and quite handsome. He wore a contractor's uniform, but so beautifully cut to his figure I was certain his personal tailor must have made it for him. His hair was black and wavy, a lock arranged to fall cunningly across his forehead.

  "Dr. Danil Heron," he introduced himself.

  "Sir, please," the outraged nurse complained. She looked at me and performed the proprieties. "May I introduce Dr. Heron to you, Miss Cliff?"

  "Dr. Cliff," I said.

  She paid this no mind. "Dr. Heron, this is Miss Cliff."

  "Now that's done, get out of my way, woman," Heron said.

  I was as shocked by this rudeness as she was.

  "Bring the flasks and preservative," he ordered her before either of us could protest his behavior.

  The nurse chose obedience as her chance to leave the room.

  I crossed my arms and asked, "What is the matter with you, Dr. Heron?"

  "I'm fine," he replied, as though I was asking after his health rather than his manners. "I am in a hurry, however. Be seated. Roll up your sleeve." He put his medical case on the little table. "My instruments are sterilized," he said as I glanced into the contents of the case. This came out as information rather than an attempt at reassurance.

  This irritating man was not in the least bit socialized. I did not like being bled to begin with, to have it done by the brusque young doctor made it worse. I doubted arguing with him would do any good, so best to get this over with as quickly as possible. Unhappy as I was about the setting, I had operated in worse and brought patients through without infection. I sat, shrugged off the shawl I wore, and presented my right arm. I had worn a short-sleeved dress in preparation for the session. Most of the tiny scars from past bleedings had disappeared in the last two years. I was not looking forward to having a new one, although I suppose I should be proud of my contribution to the health of the nation. While it is not exactly a secret, the Cliffs' involvement with the Red Fever vaccine is not public knowledge, either. I wondered if Dr. Heron knew why he was drawing my blood.

  "Your paternal bloodline is one of the four families known to never have contracted the plague," he said. "And while a few members of your maternal bloodline have had the disease, no one has died or been left mentally incompetent from Red Fever."

  Which summed it all up nicely. The Owls didn't contribute to the p
roduction of the vaccine because, while they were lucky, they weren't as lucky as the Cliffs. It was judged that anyone with Cliff blood was fit to be bled.

  No one yet knew why the Cliffs and a few other families had been blessed with immunity to the devastation of the Red Fever that had struck the world three generations ago. I knew Tennit planned to start researching the matter along with trying to find a cure as soon as he was free from his stint as a doctor with the Marines. I wondered if two years of field work would make pure research seem boring to him. It did me.

  The nurse came in with the requested equipment. "Out," he said, when she would have hovered in the background to be helpful, or act as a chaperone. I didn't ask for her to stay, so she went, quite miffed by me and the doctor - the other doctor's - modernist behavior. I wondered if society had somehow backslid a bit during my time on board the Moonrunner.

  "New data indicates an increase of one percent in vaccine efficacy," Heron said.

  Since the vaccine works about sixty-five percent of the time, I was delighted to hear of any increase in the defense against the disease.

  "The percentage would be higher if there weren't still idiots and religious fanatics refusing the inoculation." When I didn't say anything, he asked, "Don't you agree, Dr. Cliff?"

  I chose my words carefully, while his expression grew darker. "Of course I think people should want to take the vaccine. I literally give my life to help create it. But I also agree with free will and self-determination."