With no real guidance, Kama decided to just start walking until she found someone. They'd moved her to an upstairs room, which told her people most likely slept upstairs, leaving the lower floor for the school. But her room sat on the third floor, and she'd spoken to the Shrouded One—er, the Mother—on the second floor. Perhaps the first two floors were for the school?
Kama walked around the second floor, wondering where in all hells she was going. True, the outside of the building was shaped like a big rectangle, which she knew because all buildings in this district were shaped like big rectangles, but the inside did not reflect that neat and orderly shape. Rather, there seemed to be a right warren of small rooms, almost all with their doors closed.
Then, at last, just when Kama felt herself trembling atop her protective wall, about to fall over the edge into despair and failure, she spotted an open door. With a vast sense of relief, she tapped on it and stuck her head in.
"Excuse me," she said, and a woman searching a bookshelf that surely held hundreds of books turned to face her.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes. I, um, I'm new here, and I'm to find Mara Eldanquin, and I have no idea where to go."
"You must be Kama, we've no other new students." The older woman smiled. "Welcome. I am Sharanna, and I am the Keeper of the Library. I can certainly tell you where to find Mistress Eldanquin this time of day. She will be in her office, which is on the first floor, the first door to the right of the Grand Staircase."
"Thank you," Kama said, then blushed. "And. . . forgive me, but I do not know where the Grand Staircase is."
"Ah, yes. You were apparently in quite the state of disrepair when you arrived, no wonder you don't remember. From this door, cross two corridors, then turn left. You'll get right to it."
"Thank you very much!"
"You're welcome. And don't forget where this room is, for you will need it on a near daily basis."
"I won't forget," Kama promised. I hope. She kept that part to herself, though, and started off to find the Grand Staircase.
Betrayed
The first time it happened, Lorrine flew into such a white-hot rage it was a wonder she didn't ignite the entire town of Savery, known far and wide for its marketplace.
She was at the marketplace itself, poking through a bushel of onions, when the goodwife tending her merchandise humphed at her.
"You came in with that wild mage, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did," Lorrine replied, smiling fondly.
"Well, you'd best rein him in. Your man's causing quite the trouble. This here's a quiet town, we don't much go for scandal."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about, missy." The goodwife scowled. "You two been here less than a week, and that oversexed bastard's already tumbled three different women."
"What?"
The onion dropped to the ground from Lorrine's nerveless fingers.
"Huh. Maybe you didn't know, at that. Yes, it was quite the scandal. How is it you didn't know? He did it right out in the open, after all."
The world spun crazily around Lorrine. "Tell me? Please?"
"You were at the harvest festival, right? Didn't you wonder where your man had gotten off to? Back behind old Denga's barn with my niece, that's where. And I heard tell he took hold of the Mayor's sister out in the public house one nooning, ran off to the barn with her. And just yesterday Widow Lila was saying how he took care of her right nicely out in her garden. Her garden!" The goodwife shook her head, then looked at Lorrine with narrowed eyes. "You okay, missy? Don't you faint in my wares, now."
"I—I—" Lorrine tried to find words through the sick dizziness, but none came. "I have to go."
She bolted from the marketplace and ran for the common house, where they'd rented a room for an entire week. Within a few strides, the sick horror began shifting into outrage. By the time she reached their rented room, the outrage had become full-blown fury, which burned even hotter when she saw Derfek in their room with his arms around another woman, kissing her.
"What in all hells is going on here?"
Lorrine had a fairly impressive set of lungs, and she used them to maximum effect, producing a shout far more dramatic than a typical feminine shriek.
The woman broke away, clutching her bodice tightly.
"I'll just be a moment," Derfek promised her. Lorrine glared. The woman, more a girl, really, took one look at Lorrine's blazing eyes and fled.
"What's your problem, Lorrine?"
"My problem? What in hells do you think my problem is? You reeking asshole, the townsfolk are all talking about your oversexed ways, and now I find you here in our room with another woman? That's my thtocken problem!"
"Relax, woman," Derfek said coolly, tugging at his amulet. He did that a lot under stress. "You don't own me. Not in any way did we ever get married, and I certainly don't remember signing any kind of exclusivity agreement. Because I wouldn't do that. No one woman can ever be enough for me."
"What? There's no need to sign any thtocken thing, you brought me with you!"
"Lorrine," Derfek sighed, "don't be stupid. Now. I am going to go find Elsa. If you don't like that, then pack up and go."
With that, he gave his amulet a final sharp tug, and swept out of the room.
Lorrine never cried. Ever. When she skinned knees as a child, when she had man trouble before Derfek, didn't matter. Either or, she didn't cry. Bad days, heartache, stupid injuries? No. Nothing more than a bit of mistiness in the eyes. But now, watching Derfek leave, hearing his horrible words echoing through her head, now she cried. She fell face first on the bed and bawled, in fact, for long enough that it hurt her eyes. And her throat. And she gave herself a horrible headache.
Finally, Lorrine ran out of tears, and lay on the bed, picking aimlessly at the nubbly coverlet. They'd had a lot of sex in this bed. What did she want to do?
Well, she had to stay with Derfek. That much was obvious. If he'd have her after the way she'd behaved. And she'd have to work far harder to please him, in bed and in life, to make damn sure his eyes never strayed again.
She heard the door open and someone enter the room. She didn't move. Then a weight settled onto the bed beside her head and a familiar hand stroked her hair.
"Look, Lorrine, my dearest. I'm sorry this came as such a shock to you. I thought you knew. I mean, isn't it obvious? I'm just not a one-woman type. I love you, really I do, but if you can't accept the way things are, we'll just have to part ways."
"No," Lorrine croaked, struggling upright to look at him. "No. Don't make me go. I don't want to lose you."
"That's my girl." He smiled at her, and it seemed the most wonderful sight in all the lands. "Even if you do look horrible right now, all red and blotchy. Go get yourself cleaned up, okay? I'll still be here."
Lorrine smiled, and nodded, and made her way to the bathhouse.
Enrollment
The Grand Staircase turned out to be just that: grand. Wide and curved in a graceful spiral, it was made of some exotic wood that had a lovely red tint and a deeply polished shine. She easily imagined wealthy ladies in elegant ballgowns, some featuring her own embroidery, floating down the stairs on the arms of handsome gentlemen, or holding hands with equally elegant and lovely ladies, one soft white glove trailing languidly down the sleek banister.
But of course, this was a school, not a High Lord's palace. So Kama shook off the fancy, felt a twinge as she wondered what Lorrine would think of the beautiful wood, and went down in search of Mistress Eldanquin.
As instructed, Kama knocked on the first door to the right of the stairs. A voice from inside called for her to come in.
The voice belonged to a middle-aged woman, about the same age as the Keeper. This woman looked like she could have been Kama's cousin, with similar blond hair and fair skin.
"Hello," Kama said, put at ease by the almost-familiar look of this woman. She didn't really like meeting new people, and here she w
as, surrounded by strangers on all sides. But this woman, who knew? Maybe she was some kind of relative. Such a thing seemed no less likely than Kama developing mage talents this late in life, after all. "I'm Kama, and the Mother sent me to speak to you."
"Ah, yes. Kama. Mistress Banchek spoke with me before bringing you here. She indicated you have superior skills with a needle. Is this true?"
Kama smiled. "Some think so. I have a bit of skill with spiderweave. It's been a while since I handled cloth or floss, so I might need a few days of practice to recover from my troubles, but my skills used to command very high prices."
"Good. And have you any interest in teaching? I know you are here to learn, but we haven't had a truly skilled needlewoman here in simply ages."
"I could probably teach," Kama said cautiously. "I've never tried. But I know my trade well, and I know how I learned. I'm certain I could pass that along to others."
"Good. That's wonderful. We'll give you a few weeks to get settled in here, then start you with a group of the advanced students. They've been agitating to learn embellishments for simply ages now, and our seamstress is just that, a seamstress. She knows how to make clothing, and does it well, but embroidery is a whole different world."
"So it is." Kama hesitated, wondering if she should ask about her own studies. But then Mistress Eldanquin continued on.
"Fine, then. Let's get on with the business of enrolling you properly. What's your full name?"
Perhaps she should have expected the question, given how she was in a school, and enrolling in schools generally required giving information about one's past life and such. But it still hit her like a bucket full of shaved ice, straight from the frozen north. She felt the blood drain from her face and swayed on her feet, clutching at Mistress Eldanquin's desk to remain upright as the words threw her back into the horrors concealed in her past. Soft fabric rubbed at her cheek. Leather bit into her wrists and ankles. She screamed, but the sound went nowhere, stopped by the silken gag tied through her mouth. And the pain. . . the pain. . . the horrible, humiliating pain. . .
"What is it, dear? You look like you've seen a ghost."
The caring voice intruded on the memories of bindings and pain, but it sounded faint and distant. Kama tried desperately to extend the barrier Liesel had given her to block off the old memories as well. It resisted, at first, then it gave in and stretched to shield her from the old pain.
"My apologies," Kama said, lifting her head slowly, focusing on the real woman in front of her instead of the horrible man in memory. "I. . . I no longer use my last name. There was. . . were. . . there were problems I left behind to come here, to Eirian, and I have no wish to use that name and leave a clue as to where I have gone."
"Very well. You are certainly not the first to say such a thing. So let's enter you as Kama Needlewoman, and move on to your courses."
She wound up with a strange course load, one that distracted her from the pain of the ancient memories and gave her something to think about even beyond Lorrine. She'd always thought schools were boring places where people went to study boring subjects like mathematics and history. This school, though, offered much more exciting topics. Everyone enrolled was required to learn reading and writing, but there the conventionality ended. She enrolled in a dancing class, and a study of business practices, and a music class. . . She'd always been fascinated by music, but never had much exposure to it, aside from street musicians. That would change now. She also took a beginning cooking class, because all she knew about a kitchen was where to find leftovers. Most exciting of all was a required hour of socializing termed "Social Graces." With Lorrine gone, Kama had no friends, although perhaps Liesel counted. So the notion of a supervised setting in which to learn how to socialize gracefully, rather than with Kama's native awkwardness, sounded like the ideal opportunity to shake her out of her past troubles and into a pleasant future.
Perhaps. Of course, it could also be a great setting for her to make a fool out of herself, or all sorts of other bad things. But one could only live so much of one's life wallowing in fear and negativity, after all. Would she remember her own brave words when Liesel's protective barrier wore off?
Mistress Eldanquin summoned an aide to give Kama a tour of the school and all its facilities, so she wouldn't have any difficulty finding her way around in the future. It seemed a nice place, with more space than was readily apparent from the outside, spread over five stories and a cellar. Students worked at assigned chores, running the domestic affairs of the place, so there were no general servants. However, there was a full kitchen staff, because cooking was a full time occupation. There was a garden, filled with herbs, vegetables, and assorted blooming plants, and a little decorative fish pond with pretty but inedible fish swimming around in it.
Best of all was the communal bathing room. Not only did it come with necessary hygiene facilities, it held a large mirror, and a Table of Wonders.
"Oh!" Kama said, stopping in her tracks when she spotted the big table in front of the equally big mirror. She hadn't been in here yet. She'd used a chamber pot. Maybe if she'd known about this alluring table she would have been more willing to come out of her room. It held a wide variety of glass jars and bottles, some of which she recognized as coming from the woman she bought her own beauty treatments from. "This is an amazing collection! Whose is it?"
Lerril, her guide, smiled. "Yours. And mine. It's all of ours, kept supplied by the school, because all of us need to feel beautiful."
"Wonderful," Kama sighed, and moved closer to inspect the contents of the table more closely.
"I take it you'll need no instruction on skin care and hygiene?"
Kama smiled at her, although she didn't laugh. "Hardly. I used to take very good care of my skin, and I intend to resume my proper routine. Perhaps I'll never be able to undo the damage done by neglect, but I'll not know until I try."
"Good for you. There's no class on cosmetics, as such, but many of us gather in here in the mornings and evenings, trading tips and techniques, and doing crazy things to each other's hair."
Suddenly Liesel's barrier meant less than nothing, and Kama felt Lorrine's gentle hands brushing out her hair, working out the braid and the few tangles at the end of the day. Her eyes burned and stung as she willed herself not to break down.
"Hey, what is it? What did I say?"
Lerril, concerned, reached out and touched her arm. The contact, from a hand so clearly not Lorrine's, broke through the intense sensory memory.
"Nothing," Kama said, although her voice wobbled badly. "It's not you. It's. . . I just have trouble sometimes. Because of. . . well, because of the reason I'm here."
"Sorry," Lerril said, and resumed the tour, trying to restore a sense of normalcy.
Kama used the rest of the tour to get herself back under control. She wondered at herself, with this strange emotional imbalance left behind by the loss of her. . . no, not lover. No matter how much Kama loved Lorra, it never amounted to anything. Her friend. Did normal people suffer this horribly when they split up? Probably, or there wouldn't be so many melodramatic ballads out there.
That thought led her to a more productive one. The Mother had said she was something unusual. Stormrider was the word she'd used. What did it mean? Did she feel any different, other than lost and alone?
Well, she'd lost her utter hopelessness over the last few days. That was different, although she rather doubted that had anything to do with this new Stormrider thing.
She wondered about that as Lerril wrapped up the tour by dropping her off at her own door, which she now knew was on a floor reserved for older, more grown up students. Some of the women here weren't women yet at all. The school took students that had reached puberty. That was the only age guideline. So while there weren't any little girls underfoot, there most certainly were a few extremely young women. They stayed up on the higher floors, because young legs handled many stairs more easily than older legs.
Kama went into her roo
m to compose herself before her first class, dancing. This business of living certainly seemed more difficult now than it had before. . . before. She had to watch her thoughts, and her responses to other people's words, and examine herself for any sign of weirdness that might tell her why a Shrouded One would refer to her as a creature of legend.
Desert
"Well, here we are."
Derfek glanced at Lorrine, who looked uneasy as they approached the border crossing. Not a good sign, that.
"Yes, here we are, at last." Derfek shifted his attention back to the collection of blandly desert-colored tents. An unfriendly line of men sat on beautiful horses. Dargasi. Kill a man as soon as look at him. What secrets did they hold inside? "I've been waiting for this day for many annums."
"They don't look too welcoming."
"They will when you reveal yourself to them."
"Huh. You mean you'll let me?"
"Don't be tiresome, woman. You know you're our ticket into there. Now remove the veil, and let's ride."
He barely spared enough attention to see that she did as commanded. They approached the border guards with confidence. Better to appear secure and legitimate, approaching a line of hard-faced desert warriors holding. . . were those truly lightning-sticks? Most likely, although he'd never heard tell of Dargasi using any kind of magic before. Maybe they were just mundane, non-magical staves.
"Halt and declare your intentions," the middle rider barked out. He nudged his horse forward, and Derfek noted that at least one rumor had truth to it. The horse wore no tack at all, controlled solely by the rider's will.
"Our names are Ralla and Lorrine, and we are traders," Derfek said. He ignored the startled look the woman shot at him. "I am a Seeker, and claim passage by right of blood. And Lorrine is half Dargasi by birth. Let us pass!"
Lesbian: A Lesbian Life Worth Repairing Page 4
