Luck had apparently taken a vacation. Genevieve, the Duchess of Lancaster was passing as she exited. “Good evening, Your Grace,” Penny said with a small curtsy.
“Good evening Penny, how is Mordecai doing?” the Duchess asked.
“Very well, thank you for asking,” she replied.
“Is that one of the fireplace tools?” Genevieve asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, Your Grace, I was moving the logs in the great hall, when I thought of a question for Father Tonnsdale. I forgot to put it away before I came. I’ll take care of that now.” Stupid, stupid! That was the worst lie in history! she thought.
“Did you find him? I thought I might talk with him as well...” asked the older woman.
“No, I didn’t. I’m not sure where he’s gotten off to. I’ll have to look for him later. If I see him, I’ll tell him you were looking for him as well, Your Grace,” she replied.
“I appreciate that. Well, I’ll let you get to what you were doing,” and the Duchess moved away, down the hall.
Penny went back to the maids’ quarters. Along the way she stopped to throw the iron poker into one of the closets they stored cleaning supplies in. Her mind was racing despite her calm outward appearance. The Duchess saw me, she thought. When they found the body, hopefully in a few days, questions would be asked. Genevieve would remember seeing her, and she had noticed the iron in her hand. There could be no doubt now. It would lead straight to her. I’m going to hang. Her mind kept coming back to that. There was no explanation that would exonerate her. She hadn’t even found the poison. I forgot to even look for it. She considered going back, to search, but discarded the idea immediately. She couldn’t go back.
Thoughts of escape came to her. She could run, take everything she had now, and just run. But she had no money, no family to hide her, no place to go. She considered telling Mordecai. He would probably help. No, that’s not right. He would definitely help. But what could he do? If he ran with her it would only destroy his own life. He’s the Count di’Cameron now, he’s got everything to lose, she thought, but I am nothing. I can only ruin it for him.
“I’m going to die for this, nothing can change that. The only thing I can manage is who goes with me,” she said aloud. She might not be able to avert the consequences of her actions, but she could choose who she took with her. Asking for help would only ruin her friends, but the other option was to take the opportunity to make what remained of her life count for more. If she had to choose one other person to spend her life on, the choice became simple. Having made the decision, she felt a calm come over her, and she began to plan.
I was still talking to Marc and Dorian when Penny returned and I was glad to see her. Dorian was busy trying to convince me that beer would speed my recovery, and Marc was offering to have several pitchers sent to the room. We were young and hadn’t had much experience with strong drink, so the thought of drinking to excess was a new and exciting concept. But I knew I was in no shape for it. Penny’s presence put the damper on their plan immediately.
“C’mon Penny, you just got engaged!” Mark suggested, using his considerable charm.
“Do you see a ring on my hand Marcus Lancaster?” she offered up the unadorned appendage for his inspection.
“Well no, but you already said yes, isn’t that cause for celebration?” He grabbed her hands and led her into a short mock dance. She couldn’t help but smile.
“Marc, don’t you dare tell anyone about this! You either Dorian!” she yelled past Marc’s shoulder.
“Penny, my dear! Are you embarrassed to let people know you’re going to marry this ruffian? Perhaps you should reconsider, there are other eligible bachelors still available after all.” Marc puffed up his chest and brushed his fingers across the front of his jacket, a roguish grin on his face.
The conversation was causing Penny some consternation, and I could see it on her face, though she tried to hide it. She glanced downward, as if shy, “Honestly, I’m not ready to announce it yet. I still have to tell my father and I’d rather not set everyone to talking until I’m ready.” Something about her expression didn’t ring true to me, but Marc and Dorian took her at face value.
“Let her be Marc,” Dorian put in, “weddings are important to girls, we shouldn’t spoil things for her.”
“Fine, fine, I was only teasing,” Marc answered, looking as though he had been wrongfully accused. He had been a clown since we were children.
“Dorian,” Penny said, “would you mind doing a favor for me?”
“Sure,” he answered.
“I need to talk to Rose, about the ball tomorrow and... other things. Would you mind taking a message for me—to see if she has time this evening?” She smiled sweetly at him. I wished she smiled at me like that more often.
They both left after that, and I made myself busy eating a tray of food that had been sent up for me. I considered asking Penny about her deception, for I was sure she was hiding something, but Rose showed up before I could ask her.
“You didn’t have to come up right away. I would have come to see you,” Penny said.
“Nonsense, I was bored anyway,” Rose replied.
They talked for a few minutes and Penny explained what she had in mind. The Duke’s mention of the ball had apparently caught her fancy, something I would never have expected. She wanted Rose’s advice about how to appear, and other details.
“Don’t go as Mordecai’s guest, since he’s not going. Come as my companion,” Rose suggested. “You’ll draw less attention that way, and since he’s not yet known as the Count di’Cameron, you’ll get more respect as my friend.”
“That’s fine,” Penny said, “It doesn’t really matter to me either way. My true concern is that I don’t have a dress. I never expected to attend an event like this, being what I am.”
Rose smiled at her, “That won’t be an issue my dear. I’m glad you called me first, I have just the thing for you. You’re close to my size anyway.” Rose Hightower was probably the tallest woman at Lancaster Castle, standing five foot eleven inches, but Penny was rather tall herself and stood close to her height. “Mordecai,” she continued, “Penny is going to need some things if you intend to keep her.”
I looked up, “What do you need?”
Rose smiled at me, “Ten gold marks should do.” I choked, that was enough to buy a farm, two if you bargained hard. My father didn’t make more than two or three gold marks in a year, if things went very well. She saw my expression, “Hand it over, my lord, you aren’t living that life anymore, and if you don’t start thinking of her needs, Penny is going to suffer for it.”
I counted out the money and handed it over, and Rose gave me a pat on the shoulder, “That’s a good man. When I’m done you won’t regret it. Just be glad I’m not charging you for my services.”
They left then, Rose taking Penny by the arm. I swear I could hear them laughing as they walked down the hall. Once they had gotten back to the rooms Rose was staying in, she proceeded to show Penny a selection of dresses. She had packed with the intention of being ready for anything.
Penny was concerned, “These are much too fine for me Rose.”
“As long as you aren’t better dressed than me, nothing is too good for you my sweet,” Rose said with a twinkle in her eye. “We might have to have the seamstresses in to raise the hem a bit, the length is ok on you, but we need to show a bit more of your ankle for the proper impact.”
“If you don’t mind my asking Rose, what will we use the money for? If you’re lending me one of your dresses, surely that’s all we need.”
“I’m thinking of the future, particularly yours,” Rose replied. Wasting no time she sent one of the servants out to fetch a dressmaker. Once the woman had arrived she began discussing fabrics and styles. Several hours went by as Rose ordered a bewildering array of things, from blouses to garters, nightgowns and skirts. At the end, she had agreed to pay the woman almost five gold marks for an impressive selection of clot
hes; winter and summer dresses, and even ball gowns.
“It’ll take me several weeks to manage all of this, milady,” the woman said.
“That’s fine, just be sure to send along the nightgowns and house-clothes first, she’ll need those as soon as possible.” Rose paid her then, never thinking to consider she might be cheated. Penny realized that she wouldn’t be. You don’t cheat nobility, not if you want more business; not if you want to continue eating.
“What’s the rest of the money for?” Penny asked, and Rose gave her a sly grin, handing her the remaining money.
“I can’t take this! It isn’t my money,” she protested.
“You are a lady now, or soon will be. As a Countess you will need to know how to handle yourself with money. Even more so, you must never be perceived as having to count coins. Use it, waste it, make sure people see it, and don’t ever act as though you need it.” Rose gave her a serious look, “I’m not joking. Your future will rely on learning these things. As soon as you have that boy of yours wed, make sure he gives you an allowance. If people suspect he’s being cheap with you, they will think he’s broke. If they think he’s broke, things will get hard for him. Never let them smell blood.”
Penny could see the sense of her words, but she felt like a fraud. She had no intention of marrying now, she would not live out the week, much less see the day those clothes Rose had ordered arrived. Yet she had to keep up the pretense. If Rose caught wind of her plan, it would be all over.
They went back to the ball gowns again. “Rose, this might sound odd, but I don’t feel safe going to the ball without Mordecai. Do you suppose I might—carry something?” She gave the woman an uncertain glance.
Rose understood immediately, “Oh my, I would tell you that you have nothing to fear, but I know why you feel as you do.” She went back to her closet. She returned with another dress, this one had long flowing sleeves in contrast to the others which had had close fitting sleeves. “This will do the trick, though it’s a shame, you have such pretty arms.”
In truth Penny liked the other dresses better, but function would be more important tomorrow evening, “So how do the sleeves help?” she asked.
Rose gave her a feral grin, “I take it you want to carry a dagger, correct?”
Penny nodded.
“And considering your feelings, something like this probably wouldn’t be enough,” she plucked a small slender knife from her bodice.
“Do you always carry that?!” Penny was a bit shocked.
“Just because I said you were safe doesn’t mean a girl shouldn’t be prepared. But if you want to carry something more serious,” she walked over to a trunk and began rummaging before standing back up, “like this.” She held a double edged dagger with a seven inch blade, “You’ll need sleeves, big sleeves. Here let me show you.” She brought out an odd scabbard for the dagger, with several straps attached.
“So you strap it to your wrists?” Penny didn’t know what to think of this noblewoman who suddenly seemed so intimately familiar with blades.
“Ordinarily, yes, but not for a dance. You’ll be lifting one arm, to rest on a gentleman’s shoulder, and your sleeve may slide back. Plus, he might feel it when he touches your wrist, so the forearm is a fashion no-no.”
“Oh.”
“There are two main ways for a lady to wear something as considerable as this. The first is strapped to your leg, either the calf, or the inner or outer thigh. The calf is impractical if you wish to use it quickly, and the outer thigh will spoil the lines of some dresses. The inner thigh is my preference, but it can be awkward, especially if you’re dancing. Plus the dress needs to be designed for it, like this...” She slid her hand between the pleats of her skirt and brought out a dagger similar to the one she had gotten for Penny. A hidden slit in the dress allowed her to reach her leg.
“Good lord Rose, you’re a walking arsenal!” Penny exclaimed.
“And don’t you forget it,” Rose winked at her.
“Have you ever needed one—to use?” Penny was curious.
“Not yet. Usually you can discourage even the worst of them before it comes to that, but it pays to be prepared.” Rose discussed the topic with a casual nonchalance that Penny could not help but envy.
“So how will I wear this one? So that I can dance?” Penny asked.
“Here,” Rose pointed to the inside of her upper arm. “It won’t be entirely comfortable, but your partner won’t feel it, and if your sleeve slides back it won’t be revealed. Put on the dress, and I’ll show you how it works.” They got Penny into the dress, which took several minutes, but it fit well. “Now, we strap it to the inner side of your upper arm, with the hilt down. The sheath is built to hold it, even in that position. Show me how you will draw it if you need.”
Penny thrust her right hand up the left sleeve and grabbed for the handle. “No, no!” Rose remonstrated. “You do that, and he’ll be three feet back and calling for his mother to save him.”
Penny laughed at the image, “Isn’t that the point? To warn him off?”
Rose shook her head, “Not publicly, you’ll wound his pride and earn yourself a bad reputation. If you do need it, you want to have the blade against his skin before he realizes it, so you can quietly make him aware of your feelings. Once he’s admitted defeat you can replace it, and no one is humiliated—publicly.”
The methods Rose described suited Penny’s purpose perfectly, although she did not mean to use the blade for self-protection.
Rose went on, “As a woman you have to remember, if he catches on to your intentions, you lose most of your advantage. He’s bigger, stronger, and possibly quicker. Put your hands together, gracefully... then slide them to your elbows, as if you are thinking, or perhaps cold. From there you can easily grasp the hilt.”
Penny couldn’t help but wonder how she would do that while dancing, but she didn’t dare ask. That question might be too direct, so she asked a different question. “Rose, do all noblewomen carry weapons?”
Rose snorted, “No, only the smart ones.”
“Who taught you all this?” Penny added.
“My mother,” and then she regretted it when she saw the look on Penny’s face. She had already heard of Penny’s own loss. “Penny, this may sound odd, but if you will have me, I already consider you a sister.”
Penny’s eyes misted, and without thinking, she hugged Rose, “I always wanted a sister,” but inwardly she already felt bad for the betrayal she knew was coming. She could only hope that Rose would someday recover, once she was gone.
Chapter XVIII
LITTLE IS KNOWN OF THE time before the Sundering, when Balinthor nearly destroyed the world. Most historians agree that mages were freer then and more common. They were not bound by the Anath’Meridum. The gods of men were still young, and too weak to threaten their power. The Dark Gods were powerful, but none were foolish enough to bargain with them. In those days almost all kings were wizards themselves, but whether they were foolish or wise is not known. Poetry would suggest they were wise, but stories are like pictures, painted to show their best sides. In all likelihood they were as petty, foolish and sometimes cruel as rulers today.
~Marcus the Heretic,
On the Nature of Faith and Magic
I was sitting up reading when Penny returned, and I was grateful for the distraction. As interesting as it was, A Grammar of Lycian was not the sort of book to keep you awake for long. I had been searching it and experimenting with some of the words I found there, trying to speed up my recovery. Inner exploration had shown me that, while my lungs were both functioning now, there was a lot of blood around one of them. I had spent considerable time trying to get the blood broken up so that my body could remove it more easily.
That turned out to be quite difficult, and I wasn’t sure what effect my efforts had produced, so I also worked on making improvements to my ribs and the muscles supporting them. I really wasn’t sure, but I thought that I had them in good shape. They se
emed to be aligned properly now, and I had them fused better. I also experimented with some of the words I found in the book, and may have made my ribs stronger than they normally should be, but there was no good way to test the theory.
I resisted the urge to try anything with my brain. That way lay madness. I could tell however, that the swelling was gone, and I did fix a small crack in one of the bones of my skull. Surely that couldn’t cause any unforeseen problems.
“You’re home early,” I said, trying to sound domestic. I’m also quite funny in addition to being brilliant. Honestly I am, I tell myself so all the time.
“Did you take that bath?” she asked. Penny seemed to have a one track mind sometimes.
“Have I mentioned how lovely you look?” My skills in the subtle art of noble discourse had been improving lately, so I thought I might try a distraction. If only Penny would cooperate with my cleverness.
She leaned in, sniffing, and wrinkled her nose, “You stink.” The conversation went downhill from there, and before long she had servants bringing in a large copper tub and buckets of hot water. Knowing all the staff made it terribly easy for her to quickly find the people she wanted. I would have been impressed with her efficiency if it hadn’t been directed at me.
Once everyone had gone (you would be amazed at how many people it takes to draw a proper bath), she gave me a hard look. “Strip,” she said. Somehow the way she said it managed to take all the sexy out of the word.
“Yes ma’am,” I replied, waggling my eyebrows at her. I’ll be damned it I let her take the fun out of the conversation. I was feeling quite a bit better at the moment, so I got my clothes off unaided and eased myself into the tub. The water was very warm, almost steaming.
I have to admit, it was the best bath I’d ever had up to that point in my life; especially considering I had a lovely woman to scrub my back. She even washed my hair; something I had never known could be so pleasurable. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I was in heaven. A splash caught my attention and I opened one eye, apparently one of the angels had come down to join me in the bath. Things got rather more interesting from there.
FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy Page 23
