Women of Wasps and War

by Madeleine D'Este

  'I do, my Lord.'

  'And do you have any knowledge about the conspiracy to murder the Duke?'

  'Yes, my Lord.'

  A breath hitched in Agata's throat. She leaned forward.

  'Does it relate to any of the accused here in the Great Hall?'

  'It concerns the Duchess.'

  Agata stared open-mouthed and her heart plummeted. Had she misheard him? She glanced around the room for reassurance.

  'Did the Duchess discuss the conspiracy with you?'

  'Not directly.'

  'But something she said made you suspicious?'

  Sylwin pursed his wrinkled lips and nodded. 'I saw her on a number of occasions running through the castle keep. Up and down the stairs, in a manner not befitting a Duchess.'

  Agata clenched her fists and dug her fingernails into her palms.

  'On one occasion she was frantically searching for Singlewoman Osias. And we have heard Singlewoman Osias's confession today. I believe the Duchess was well aware of the actions of her maid. The Duchess was quite agitated on a number of occasions and made a poor attempt at hiding it.'

  The Duchess ground her teeth.

  'What did she say specifically?'

  'Two days before the Spawning, she spoke of a great conundrum. She was obviously torn between decisions. She told me she must hurt one person for the good of another.'

  All across the room, men growled.

  Agata lunged forward in her chair, desperate to correct his twisted words, but she held back and obeyed the rules. Her time would come soon and they would all have to listen.

  Her husband stared at her blankly.

  Sylwin continued. 'I told her in the eyes of the Father, a good deed never erased a sin.'

  The Scion nodded emphatically before shooting Agata another one of his stony stares.

  'Unfortunately, I was in a hurry but asked her to come to see me later. She never did. If she had, I could have talked her out of this nonsense. As I had a number of times before.'

  Agata lowered her head and wished she could cover her ears against his slander.

  'What do you think she was referring to?'

  'The Duchess enjoyed sitting on the throne while you men were away. A little too much in my view. She clashed with the Scion many times due to her pig-headedness. But now the Duke is back, she has been excluded from decision-making and her foolish pride is damaged. While officially she is next in line to the Duchy, we know she would never be allowed to rule. But she is only a silly young girl. She had probably convinced herself otherwise.'

  Tears prickled at Agata's eyes as she gripped her shaking hands between her legs.

  Kalin nodded. 'It makes sense. If the accused believed she could do a better job at governing Ambrovna, the only person in her way was the Duke. Or perhaps she is part of a wider conspiracy? The new Kingdom is only in its infancy and the Neven Clan are not known for their honour.'

  The Scion lifted an eyebrow. 'Or perhaps she is the ringleader. Ambrovna has been free of cunning women for many years. Then all of a sudden--'

  'Wasp Woman,' hissed a voice close behind her, one of the guards who was supposedly protecting her from the rabble.

  'And there were other matters,' Sylwin cleared his throat. 'She spoke to me about more intimate and personal troubles. With her husband.'

  The crowd seethed. Agata cowered under the weight of scores of eyes, hiding from one pair of grey eyes in particular. How could her words be twisted this way? Betraying a confidence between husband and wife was treachery, whether the man was the Duke or a humble goat-herder.

  'Thank you, Lord Sylwin,' Kalin said. 'This ends my questions. Do you have anything further to ask, my Lord?'

  Agata peered at him, searching for any glimmer of mercy but the Duke's face was as hard and blank as the dour portraits of his ancestors lining the walls behind him.

  'No, Lord Kalin,' he replied.

  Every ounce of life drained from her body as her chin lowered to her chest. He believed his great uncle's untruths. Of course, he would. Sylwin was his blood. Unlike her.

  'Very well, my Lord. Lord Sylwin was the last of the witnesses. Are there any other questions?'

  The old man bowed, and as he turned, Sylwin looked through her as though she were a complete stranger, without a hint of compassion or regret in his face. He shuffled away to join the rest of the onlookers.

  'Continue,' the Duke said.

  'Now to the Voice of the People.'

  Agata lifted her head and scowled, a wave of heat swelling inside her body as she glared at the Duke on his throne. He averted his eyes. Tightening her fists, she jumped to her feet.

  'My Lord. You forgot one witness.' Her voice rang out clearly. 'I have not been allowed to speak. I wish to answer the accusations against me.'

  'It appears you do not have your husband's permission,' Lord Kalin said with a furtive glance at the Duke.

  Agata stared open-mouthed. How could he deny her the chance to defend herself? Did he want to be blind to the truth?

  'And your father is missing, presumed dead. Which only leaves the Scion.'

  The Scion blinked slowly. 'She is without remorse. Permission is denied.'

  Agata had expected nothing less from the Scion but she glanced up at her husband again. She pleaded with her eyes but he inspected his fingernails.

  'A decision has been made. Permission refused. Now, sit down. We will move to the Voice of the People,' Kalin commanded.

  Gutted like a fish, Agata crumpled in the chair. She was nothing to him. Their time together, their love, the band on her finger had been meaningless. He saw a traitor, not a wife, before him. Her mind clouded as her heartbeat slowed to a dull thud in her chest.

  'Lord Kalin. One moment,' the Duke spoke up.

  Agata's breath caught in her throat. She leaned in, gently biting her lip. She knew he would not forsake her.

  'I wish to hear from Mistress Plesec.'

  Agata slumped and prepared herself for another onslaught of falsehoods.

  ***

  'Mistress Plesec?'

  Froma blinked rapidly and composed herself, holding her smile inside. After the hysterics of the sisters and the Duchess's outburst, it was time to convince these fools of her innocence. The Scion had given her an idea.

  'Your husband is dead, is your father present?'

  'No, my Lord. I am from Veigur.'

  'Too far away. Scion Zavis? Do you grant permission for this woman to speak?'

  The Scion paused and she held herself very still under his inspection before dropping her mask very briefly and revealing a glimpse of softness. They could be allies. She hoped he understood.

  The Scion nodded. 'Permission granted.'

  'Stand up, Mistress Plesec.'

  She stood slowly and smoothed down her tunic.

  'What is your response to the accusations against you?'

  Her body tingled but she lifted her eyes humbly.

  'Thank you for the chance to speak, my Lord. I have listened to the physician and my serving girl, Irina.' She forced herself to stay composed as she said Irina's name. Anger would not serve her at this moment. 'And the others. Before coming here, I had days in the dungeons to reflect on my sins.'

  'And repent?' The Scion tilted his head.

  'Of course, Scion Zavis. I have confessed all to the Father. And I will leave the ultimate judgement to him. But it was a comment of yours which perplexed me most.'

  The Scion leaned in. 'Yes?'

  'I admit I placed the mushroom in the stew. This is true. But who put the thought in my head? I would never have dreamed of killing another person, let alone my own husband. Where did this idea come from?'

  The Scion nodded.

  'What are you saying?' Kalin squinted. 'You appear to be a woman of your own mind, Mistress Plesec, whatever trouble that may cause.'

  'And I am, my Lord. Ordinarily. But something clouded my mind.'

  'Greed? You are not alone there.'

  'Let her
speak,' the Scion said and Kalin frowned, shaking his head.

  'It began during the war. Slowly at first. Ideas creeping into my head. New ideas. Sinful ideas. Thoughts and acts I had never considered before. Only now has it become clear. I believe I am bewitched. Just as you suggested, Scion.'

  The Scion grunted in agreement and turned to nod at the Duke but the noble's face was blank.

  'I do not know where or how. The almond cakes? Wine? But I became her puppet. She moulded me like dough, contorted my mind and I did whatever she asked without question. Even poisoning my own husband.' Froma choked with a sob for effect. 'And if you had not stopped me, I would have joined her to free the Allotment women.'

  'She?' Kalin asked.

  It was the question every man in the Great Hall wanted answered. All eyes and ears were on Froma as she demurely dabbed at her eyes.

  'The Duchess of course. Just as the Scion said. She is the one with the most to gain.'

  'You claim you are under the Duchess's spell?' Kalin asked.

  Froma nodded solemnly. 'Along with the two sisters. The Scion himself said Singlewoman Osias is acting out of character. I did not understand before but now his words make sense. The veil has lifted from my eyes.'

  Kalin guffawed.

  'There are tests,' the Scion said. 'Ways we can confirm the bewitching.'

  'Witch cakes? It's the stuff of superstitious peasants,' Kalin scoffed.

  The Scion glared at him.

  'What of your maid's accusation, Mistress Plesec? She presented a reasonable explanation for your actions.'

  'I thought it was obvious, my Lord.' Froma replied. 'She wanted my husband for herself but he never looked at her in such a way. He was a good man.' She pursed her lips and treaded carefully.

  'A good man?' the Duke said.

  Froma's heart thumped. He was the one she must convince of her innocence. 'Irina was right in one way, I did not act like a good wife. But now I understand why. I was under her charm.'

  'Very well, Mistress Plesec.' Kalin raised an eyebrow. 'Is there anything further, my Lord?'

  The Duke stroked his chin. Froma swallowed. She did not know him well enough to read his face. Had she managed to convince him?

  'I have heard enough.' He waved his hand and Froma exhaled discreetly.

  'Be seated, Mistress Plesec,' Kalin said and Froma sat, pressing her lips tightly to hold back her smile.

  'We have heard from all witnesses, who received permission. If you do not have any further questions, my Lord, it is time for the Voice of the Town.'

  The men in the crowd straightened and elbowed one another.

  The Duke chewed his lip and squinted.

  'Do you wish to hear from any other person, my Lord?'

  'Proceed,' the Duke said.

  ***

  Something hit Agata in the back of the head, hard. She frowned and whirled around in her chair, rubbing the site of the blow. A wall of sneers and narrowed eyes glared back. She turned and slumped. Was there any point in fighting? Smothered tears clogged her throat as she wrapped her arms around herself. She was so alone in a tide of angry men.

  'Men of Ambrovna. This is your chance to voice your opinion on the matter before you today.'

  The men jeered, eyes gleaming.

  'I will choose three men to speak their views.'

  Scuffles broke out across the Great Hall as townsmen jostled, waving their arms in the air.

  'Quiet! This is not a cock fight!' Kalin shouted.

  The mob stopped cold, with many glancing around sheepishly. Kalin raised his finger and pointed. 'You. You and you.'

  The chosen three stepped up. The first man wore a peacock-blue wool tunic with gold trim, his chest puffed out. The second, a weather-beaten fisherman pushed through the crowd, grinning. The third was a man in a coarse hemp shirt who inched forward hesitantly.

  'State your name and your relation to the accused. If any.'

  The fisherman smirked back at his friends, the cart man fidgeted and the merchant stood tall with his shoulders back.

  'Iarim, purveyor of the finest nuts and spices in all Ambrovna,' the man in the fine blue coat said with a flourish. 'And no, my Lord. I do not have connections to these women. I knew the late Merchant Plesec through business dealings but I am not acquainted with his wife.'

  'Jarku, squid fisherman. No, m'Lord,' said the red-faced man with a bow.

  'Aivvet the cart man,' the man in the hemp shirt stammered. 'Me neither, m'Lord.'

  'Men. You have heard everyone speak today.'

  The three men nodded.

  Kalin pointed to Jarku the fisherman. 'What is your opinion on the accusation?'

  The florid man breathed out, rubbing at his collar. 'All guilty, m'Lord,' he replied in a deep rumble.

  'All four women?'

  'Yes, m'Lord,' Jarku said with a definitive nod. 'They deserve the harshest punishment.'

  The crowd cheered and Agata sighed, their condemnation like a knife to her chest.

  Kalin blinked slowly. 'Iarim?'

  The merchant cleared his throat. 'My Lord. This is a matter of grave importance. I served with both men in the Civil War. Merchant Plesec and Goodman Ejvind survived the war, only to come home and be slaughtered by their own wives. This is a great tragedy. As the Scion said earlier, there is no excuse for this behaviour. The maximum punishment must be handed down.' The merchant stepped back, a smug smile on his well-fed face. His words roused more cheers and this time, fists punched in the air.

  Lord Kalin moved onto the third man. 'And you? Cart man. What do you say?'

  The cart man shuffled forward with a grimace. 'Them over there,' he said, pointing to Sira and Rabel. 'They're guilty. They said as much and they should be punished. But look at the mother. Look at 'er face. She's suffered enough, m'Lord.'

  The crowd scoffed behind him.

  'You wanted to know what I think.' He raised his hands in the air. 'I don't think she meant to kill her son but she did. By accident. They should get somethin' but not the full punishment.'

  'Soft cock,' called out a voice, accompanied by boos and heckles.

  He shrugged with a half-smile. 'My Binna always says I'm too soft.'

  'And the women here?' Kalin said.

  'The merchant woman. She's guilty too. Like these others. It looks like he'd given her a batterin' and that ain't right. But I don't believe her stories about spells.'

  Agata tried to suppress a little smile. This cart driver was possibly the smartest man in the room.

  'And the Duchess.'

  She swallowed.

  'This is 'ard, m'Lord.'

  The man let out a long sigh. He opened and closed his mouth, wringing his meaty hands. 'She should know better. She's educated. She's not like these peasant women who fuss and carry on. I don't believe she wanted to kill the Duke. No one heard her say it. Out loud, you know. It all sounds like rumours to me. Did she even touch the poison herself?'

  Agata wanted to rush forward and kiss his bristled cheek.

  'But she did play some part in this. There's some truth. Somewhere. It's 'ard to tell through all these lies. But she should be punished for lettin' the Allotment women go.'

  'The full punishment?'

  'Oh no, m'Lord.' He shook his head, his lips pulled back and his face contorted. 'No one deserves that. It's too 'orrible.'

  But the rest of the town did not agree. Their disapproval filled the Great Hall.

  'Weak.'

  'They deserve it.'

  'Child killer.'

  'Black bitch.'

  The cart man lowered his head.

  'Enough! The Voice of the Town has spoken.' Lord Kalin held up a hand, before turning to the Duke. 'My Lord?'

  'Thank you, men, for your honesty,' the Duke said but his face was a mask. 'I shall consider your opinions.'

  Had the cart man planted a seed of doubt?

  The three townsmen bowed and returned to the crowd. Two with grins and one with a grimace.

  Kalin
bowed towards the Duke. 'All views have been heard, my Lord and now, it is time for your judgement.'

  The Duke pursed his lips.

  Time had run out. There was nothing more she could do. She glanced over at the scribe in the corner and from her time with the books in the Cabinet library, she knew exactly how they would portray her. Agata Nyvard, the villainess of the next volume of The History of Ambrovna.

  She stared down at her leather boots and blinked back tears. She did not see the change in his expression, she only heard his words.

  'One moment, Lord Kalin,' he said. 'I am not quite ready.'

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Agata's eyes darted up instantly, her heart leaping.

  'Let the Duchess speak,' he said, his voice as flat as the tabletop.

  'I advise caution.' The Scion turned swiftly, as though scolding a naughty child.

  'Let her speak,' the Duke repeated sharply. 'I am her husband. I can grant her permission.'

  'My Lord?' Kalin tilted his head.

  'I have made my decision,' the Duke thundered.

  Agata rose to her feet, swallowing hard.

  'Very well,' Kalin muttered, his eyes narrowed. 'How do you respond to the accusations of murder and conspiracy, Duchess?'

  'My Lord. I thank you for allowing me to speak.'

  The Duke lowered his head in acknowledgment, his jaw set. Agata sucked in a deep breath to calm the whirlpool in her head and began. 'I came to Ambrovna as a bride from Tramissa in the lands of the Neven.'

  'Traitor,' someone whispered behind her.

  Holding her head high, she smoothed her unbrushed black hair away from her face. She faced the Duke and him alone, blocking out the rest of the room. The Duke was the only one that mattered. Now and always.

  'I knew nothing of my new home but I have grown to love this town in the short time I have been here.'

  'Love by poisonin'!' someone in the crowd scoffed.

  Kalin gestured to the terracotta guards and the man was quickly ejected from the Hall. A tense silence settled over the room.

  'While you, my Lord and Lord Kalin and many of our men risked their lives in the Civil War, I stayed behind to govern the town and protect your interests. I grew to love the people more and more, especially the women of Ambrovna. The women left alone to keep the town afloat while war raged. These women who worked hard, replacing men in all the male jobs. Fishing. Carpentry. Farming. Goat-herding. Merchants.'