by Ashley Fox
There, that was truth without mentioning Cerid Wren. Tansy’s face expressed surprise. “But you can’t, you’re a lady, a Princess! Their Highness’ will never allow you to become a healer. You have to study to serve your country, to marry well and live in luxury.”
“Be pampered and do nothing, just have lots of babies. Lots of strong sons to do all the things I want to do, you mean! While I learn how to sew and simper!”
“But you don’t have to worry for anything! You’ll never go hungry, you have everything you could want. Why would you want to be a healer? Surrounded by illness all the time, that’s no life for one such as you.”
“It wasn’t always like that! I know, I’ve read the books Tomas assigned. Once all nobles had skills, you know each House has its province, but once they too worked within that. Nobles weren’t always just symbols of wealth to be traded, and women received more respect as well. We have had Queens!”
“Oh Mera, not for a long time. Things have changed, I know the old tales too. Queen Rosalind with her Knights of Ivy, and a voice that was magic itself. But if the world was ever like that, it isn’t anymore. You are becoming a woman now, you must set aside childish dreams. You will grow up, you will fall in love and marry, and when your children come you will love them and run your household. You are lucky, you will never have to worry that your children will starve. You will always have wealth, have security. I wish my life’s path was so secure.”
Mera’s shoulders slumped, how could she explain it without seeming ungrateful? It was true what Tansy said. She had seen how hard Tansy worked, how hard all the poorer folk worked. She could understand why they looked upon her position as wondrous. To Mera that seemed more a childish dream, to be a Princess. In reality she knew she was just chattel.
“I know what you say is true, how can I not? I abide by what I must do, I study hard, and soon enough I’ll be sent away. I’m aware of the efforts made to make me saleable. Then I will marry and perhaps bring a strong ally to our House. But why can’t I also have something for myself? Something I can do good with? It is not unusual for ladies to pursue gardening, it is a well respected sport for us Danuans. So why can’t I learn? I’m not proposing to run off to dedicate to Balm Springs or anything.”
“You’re not? Because that would truly be folly. Is that why you keep sneaking off? And why you stay up half the night writing?”
“Yes, yes! Would you like to see?”
Mera arrayed some her papers before Tansy, and she was soon lost in the contents. Pointing out diagrams of particular herbs and describing their properties to her, telling her of the tea she had made for her mother. At one point she was denouncing the use of Gladwin by women, who used it to make sure that they were not with child, explaining that it had a vigorous effect on the womb, essentially forcing a woman’s time, with prolonged use it could actually make a woman barren.
“I overheard some of the scullions once, can you believe that it’s what the healers recommend? I mean I suppose it does the job, but…”
Tansy had gone red, at the talk of men and women laying together she supposed. It pleased Meredith to show her knowledge. Maybe she would take her more seriously, and with the subject know she wasn’t such a child! She was nearing thirteen after all.
“So what are you supposed to use?”
“Well, there are a few different ones that do the job, but the best is thistle to prevent and wild carrot in the fertile time, can you believe it? Almost all gardens have it in abundance. Hypericum used to be known as a soldier’s best friend, because it prevents laying illnesses and diseases. Celandine sap for warts, with lemon balm and liquorice. Prunella if its virulent. Horrible, isn’t it.”
“Mera! I can’t believe you know of such things!” Tansy had a healthy blush now, but could stop the grin from creeping across her face. There was also a considering light in her eyes. “Well, it seems you really are serious about this then. I suppose you are right in that it’s a suitable hobby for a lady… well perhaps not how to treat venereal disease. But as long as you tell me when you are going off, and don’t let it interfere with anything else, then I can’t see that it’s such a problem. Are the woods safe?”
“Oh yes, of course they are, they’re the Kings’ Woods. I don’t go out on hunt days, and hardly anyone uses those, people only really forage the very edges. Oh, thank you Tansy, thank you!” She had been so worried that Tansy would pry more or forbid her from going alone, or even make her ask her parents’ permission first. They would definitely ask more questions and probably tell her no.
“Where were you off to anyway? I see you ate your lunch. That’s good, you missed breakfast.”
“I was going to see Mother and take her the tea I made, and the honey and fortifying wine, then to my lesson with Tomas, then I had to go to the library-”
“Princess! Have you not seen your self? And this is another reason you need to tell me where you are. If I don’t keep an eye on you people will start mistaking you for some pauper’s child!” So saying Tansy turned her around, her hands on Mera’s shoulders, and pushed her toward a mirror.
Her hair was windswept, bits of twig and leaves caught up in it, stains from her soup about her face and ink on her cheek. That must have been from last night. Her clothes were rumpled with dirt smudged in, her stockings still damp and spattered with mud. What would her mother have said! Tansy had been watching her reaction and burst out laughing. “ I’ll draw you up some hot water, you need to wash and change. You’ll have to get straight to Master Tomas after, or you’ll be late. You’ll have to visit her Highness’ tomorrow.”
Mera felt anxiety sink, yet again she would be too busy to see her mother.
“I had heard that her Highness had been troubled by the babe all morning. Nothing is wrong but that and sitting through a meeting with the ambassador tired her, so she has retired to her suite to seek bed rest. All are being turned away from her door. Perhaps it’s for the best, she wouldn’t turn you away but she needs her rest, hey.”
With that she turned into the bathing room, the sound of the pump flowing out a moment later. Mera looked at her reflection, not really liking what she saw. Sighing heavily she turned away to put away her papers.
CHAPTER NINE
The Queen of Cups
Llew threw himself back onto his pallet and scowled at the ceiling. The gardeners had heard the commotion and told Mistress Thistle, the noble girl’s governess. She was the one who had found them, or as she put it, ‘caught them neck deep in their deviousness’. She had marched them all back to the training yards, lined them up and sent for Captain Madder. While they had waited she gave them lessons on the correct etiquette that should be observed between the little lords and ladies.
“... the virtues of cleanliness and honesty, the blessings of propriety, and how utterly and irrevocably disgraceful it is when such foundations of correct behaviour are ignored!”
Some of the girls had started to cry, but only half heatedly. Mostly they didn’t seemed perturbed by Mistress Thistle at all, and when Llew realized this he wasn’t quite so intimidated by her. Of course, he would never admit he was intimidated in the first place. Whenever Mistress Thistle marched past Violet she would roll her eyes at Holly, who was turning bright red with the effort of suppressing her giggles. Which occasionally escaped in little hiccups.
“I am unfortunately aware of how difficult boys find this as it was their nature to be horrible, but such impulses have to be blessedly controlled!“
All of this was shouted very shrilly, spat from a mouth puckered with disdain.
Soon Madder arrived, limping onto yards. He was already aware of what had come to pass, and soon set about getting the details. Llew had stepped forward and told him how it was his idea, but was cut short by Mistress Thistle’s squawk of indignation.
“Rosalind Herself weeps at your temerity, boy!”
Soon enough they found out it was the girls who had set about the second attack with the middens. Capt
ain Madder and Mistress Thistle had joined together in dressing them down, and giving out punishments. Madder gave the boys a lecture on how to respect the fairer sex, how it was their duty to protect them, and also to respect the labour that went into making and caring for their garments. So he told the boys they would be working with the laundry servants for an hour at lunch, and two hours at the end of the day, for a week. And an added punishment for Llew, as he was the leader, he would now have a room in the pages wing instead of his own apartments.
The girls had smirked at their punishment but were cut short by Mistress Thistle’s sharp voice. The girls got a lecture on how to behave like ladies, not common bred hoodlums, and how to respect the labour of those whose job it was to maintain the Gardens. So their punishment was to help maintain the pathways and weeding, for the same duration as the boys punishment, as well as clean up the mess they had made.
Llew could not help the smug smile at the memory of the girls on hands and knees cleaning up the middens they had slopped everywhere. Almost made the boys punishment worth it.
Doing laundry was tougher work than he imagined it would be. The women in charge were a rough bunch and were always laughing at the boys and making crude jokes at their expense. At first Llew had been infuriated by this, but after a couple of days he could understand why. They only managed to do a tenth of what those women could do in the same amount of time, and were completely clueless to the varying and complex needs of different fabrics. Those women also had arm muscles that were bigger than most soldiers. It was tough, dirty work and they knew it. It just made them prouder of their skills and willingness to tough it out and earn some bread. Llew grudgingly started to feel immense respect for them.
There were some plus sides, many servants made reasons to pop by, to see the Prince Heir and nobles’ sons working like servants. Llew knew they were probably snickering behind their hands at him so he became determined not to let himself down, or his father. And, well, some of those servants were pretty little maids and kitchen boys who fluttered there eyes at him.
He sighed at the memory of those smiles, the steam causing their hair to cling in tendrils to the forehead, and neck. The white linen blouses that clung and became slightly see though. Soon he drifted into sleep, dreaming pleasant dreams of flashing eyes and rosy smiles.
CHAPTER TEN
The Queen of Swords
Llew slouched on his bench, Gos and Lantana to either side of him. When they had arrived in the Great Hall to attend their lesson with the scarecrow they had a surprise waiting for them. Girls. And not just any girls, Meredith was there as was Holver’s sister, Holly. Who was just as little and round as Holver, Llew thought, though she had a more delicate face. Benches and desks had been set up, seating three each, two rows of boys next to two rows of girls. The scarecrow sat at the head of these rows, to one side of one of the great hearths. He sat and read, not paying them any attention whilst everyone took their seats. Always before he had taught just the pages, in his own apartments. Llew knew he was also teaching Mera, but it had always been at different times. Now suddenly they were thrust together, with a bunch more girls as well. Llew recognised them, they were all daughters of noble houses, though he didn’t know any of them that well as they were usually attached to their mother’s skirts. Gos leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “What’s going on, Llew? Do you think they’re going to join us? Do you think it’ll be every lesson? Has the Princess said anything?”
“How would I know? Mera hasn’t said anything, why would I want to talk to her? And it looks like they’re joining us, that much is obvious. But why?”
Holver leaned forward from the bench behind them, psssting them loudly. “I knew Holly was acting up, she kept saying she knew a secret, said it was going to be a surprise. I over heard her and mama talking about how girls should know as much as boys, so reckon they will be staying. It won’t be that bad, will it? I mean, at least now we probably won’t have to answer as many questions. Right?”
Llew pulled a face at him. “Great, now we’re not just stuck with the scarecrow, we’ve got to put up with a bunch of girls talking about hair and love and stupid stuff!”
One of the girls in question let out a loud giggle, hanging all over her companion. Llew peered at her from beneath a fall of hair and felt himself go red. They were older than the boys, older than Meredith too. He hoped they weren’t laughing at him. Lantana leaned forward, blocking his view. “Girls aren’t that bad, and we won’t have to put up with much of that, the scarecrow will no doubt keep us busy. I just hope he doesn’t leave out all the good stuff, the battles and such. Have you seen what he’s reading? Looks like a faerie tale book to me.”
The pages all scooted round trying to get a better look. Indeed it did seem to be a book of faerie tales, a very old one. It looked different from the ones he had been read from as a child. The scarecrow rose, placing his book on the chair and turned to look out at the waiting faces. A hush fell as they watched and waited. The scarecrow slowly walked up and down staring into to each face as he passed, until he finished where he had started. A smile lit his face and his hands met behind his back. When he spoke his voice was soft, yet had a carrying quality so all could hear.
“Welcome, children. It seems that my role has once more been expanded, whilst my time is being steadily diminished. I have had several nobles approach me about teaching their children. It seems as if all would like to follow the example set by the Prince and Princess. So I found myself in a tight spot, and soon reached a conclusion.” He chuckled. “This conclusion. From this point on all classes shall be held here. Those who are obliged must continue their lessons as previous, and those who wish to attend, well, or those whose parents wish them to attend, may do so. All shall be welcome, rich, poor, servile and sneaky alike as long as they do not disrupt my class and readily apply apt minds. Any questions?”
The scarecrow tugged his ear, head cocked like an expectant dog. Llew noticed no one wanted to say anything, some looked interested, some sullen, and some a bit confused by his manner as they pondered whether he was actually asking them, or simply indulging in rhetoric.. Llew smiled to himself. They would soon learn.
“Well then, that’s good, a bright bunch, eh? So as my previous students know, I have been trying to ascertain what to teach you, where to start? Of what curriculum shall we partake? And then logic caught up with me, old fool that I am, and I realized that the only place to start is the beginning. But here, you can imagine, I encountered a difficulty. What happened in the beginning? Anyone?”
Everyone sat still, nobody seemed inclined to try to answer. The scarecrow lifted up the book of faerie tales, pages worn softly amber in the firelight. Llew couldn’t help it, he started sniggering. This man was insane, and a bore with it. Some students joined him in their muffled mirth, others spearing glares in their direction.
The scarecrow merely looked on, expression twisted at once amused and sorrowful. “I look before me at your innocence, at your diverse needs and seeming destinies and find my normal lessons sifting through my mind like dust. Does a prince need to know how to make soup with good consistency and nourishment? A scribe how to calculate the fall of a flurry of arrows in a sharp nor-easterly? A noble lady how to thatch a roof with suitably arranged and absorbent materials? A churl how to compose an elegy? And what of the ways of strange art? When I stand in a palace grown from the very bones of the earth herself. History is rich with tradition, and with those who have defied the mould of such. So I will teach you all these things, over the coming moons, and more. History, skills, philosophy. Math, music, words and war.”
The scarecrow paused, firelight describing his features boldly, and took up a brimming cup of red wine and drank deep. The glass clinked into the hush as he set it down, stubble scratching on the back of his hand as he wiped his down curled mouth. His hand passed over the cover of the book of faerie and his fingers nudged aside ink marked papers and took up a battered pamphlet that had lain
hidden beneath them.
“I find myself also considering the fact that I do not know what you will come to need as the spans of your lives intersect with this world. That much history is certain of, despite the inevitability that guides our lives, these lessons, the current state of affairs you have no doubt heard your elders muttering over, protecting you from and expecting you to be prepared for. In times of change, when it is unclear who your enemies are, it is important to remember the cost, to remember those who struggle and strive and suffer. And so I think, I will begin with the words of Olkis. Because, I wanted to explore beginning, to fulfil my needs to you and yet I find myself drawn back to this contraband, these words of an Imperialist born woman which grow ever more poignant.”
Tomas finished his wine and cleared his throat.
“We need to stop squabbling. Stop mocking, and cawing and
mobbing like dark gulls caught fraught by the grey docks.
I have been thinking of our fight for equality, of what it means to rebel. We are searching for freedom, but what does that mean? Freedom to and freedom from. For far too long we have offered feints, caught in the defence of defining and defending freedom from; a bitter trap of defiance. Thus so, we are easy to set aside, to dismiss as over wrought, or over sexed, or simply mad. We are painted desperate.
But we are the disparate, those that see a fuller picture from the margins. We need to consider more on freedom to, to free our minds from the subconsciously suggested subjugation, to set free our flesh from more literal ligatures. We need to embrace a fairer future and fight for it.
No longer to squander the force of our collective will in clawing small territory, safety from harm made of illusions, eyes cast low. No longer limited to the individual and what quiet neighbouring voices dare. No longer bound and restricted by the strength of our own and singular flesh.
