“May I suggest that Madame has had a long day and should retire,” Menders replied. “If you wish to discuss Princess Katrin’s upbringing further, you may see me tomorrow.”
He left her standing there and beckoned to Eiren. He walked her away from the nursery.
“If she does anything at all to the Princess, I want you to scream loud and long,” Menders confided in a low tone. “Fight her if you have to. I’ll be right outside the door. Don’t hesitate, do you hear me?”
Eiren was trembling, but nodded.
“Good girl.” Menders walked her back to the nursery, then watched from the darkened hallway until he saw she was in her place beside Katrin’s crib. Madame Holz, it seemed, had dragged her bags into the nurse’s room.
He went to tell Franz what had transpired.
“Sounds charming,” Franz said flippantly but Menders could see he was deeply troubled.
“Hopefully she’ll just go to sleep tonight,” Menders said. “I’ll be standing guard but I don’t want her to know I’m there. Eiren is watching, and she’ll fight tooth and nail for Katrin,”
“Do you want me to watch with you?” Franz offered.
Menders shook his head.
“I’ll probably need you tomorrow, so get some rest,” he answered. “Let’s just get through the night.”
Menders went to his room to change into black shirt and trousers, then situated himself outside the nursery, melting into the shadows. Eiren saw him but gave no indication that she knew he was there. After a short while, he heard resounding snores from the nurse’s room, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least Madame Holz wasn’t going to try toughening Katrin this night.
***
“The Great Sow wants breakfast taken up,” Eiren announced, coming into the dining room, Katrin on her hip. She looked harried, her long red braids frowsy; she hadn’t taken time to dress her hair.
“Tell her we don’t… no, you sit down, have breakfast,” Menders said, rising and helping her put Katrin in her high chair. “I’ll deal with Madame.”
Up the stairs again to the nursery. Old times, he thought, considering he’d just spent the night on the floor outside the nursery door. He walked in and was treated to the sight of Madame Holz standing there, arms crossed, steaming with fury like a red-velvet-clad railway locomotive.
“We live simply here,” he said bluntly. “No-one has breakfast taken to them unless they are ill. If you wish to eat, you will come down to the dining room. It will give you a chance to meet the rest of the household.”
“Where is the Princess?” she demanded.
“In the dining room with the rest of us, as usual,” Menders answered.
“That is absurd! She should not leave the nursery!”
“Breakfast is on the table,” Menders responded, turning on his heel, walking out of the nursery and back down the stairs. After a moment, he heard her following him.
Madame Holz’s introduction to the rest of the household was not the social success of the year. Within three minutes of her appearance in the dining room, she had mortally insulted Mistress Trottenheim and Franz. Hemmett took one look at her, realized she was the living embodiment of every horror his young mind could conceive and screamed uncontrollably until he had to be removed by his mother.
Madame ordered Cook to fetch her tea instead of coffee. From his vantage point Menders saw Cook spit into the cup in the kitchen. Lucen Greinholz took it upon himself to grin madly at Madame, which she found extremely unnerving.
Menders’ job today was to rasp at Madame Holz’s nerves until she was at the screaming point. He was rather looking forward to it.
Halfway through the meal, Madame demanded wine.
“At breakfast, Madame?” Menders asked in a very pleasant and social tone of voice. “That is far too sophisticated for us in the country. Has it become the custom at Court?” He saw Franz cover a smirk with his napkin.
“I feel a chill,” she responded curtly.
“I’ll build a fire in the nursery for you,” Menders answered.
“There should be no fire in the nursery, it’s not good for the baby,” she retorted.
“Well then, you’ll just have to endure the chill. I would suggest woolen underwear, it can be quite cool here at any time of the year,” Menders responded calmly, finishing his coffee. Missing your wine are you, he thought, noticing that her hands were trembling. Good thing I’ve locked up all the bottles. You’ll feel demons dancing under your skin before long, if I’m not mistaken.
After breakfast he took Katrin and went with her to his office. On cue, Madame erupted through the door.
“What is the meaning of bringing the child in here?” she trumpeted.
“I keep her with me a good part of the day. I am her guardian after all,” Menders responded.
“She must be returned to the nursery!”
“No.”
Madame came up short, blinking as if slapped. It seemed that no one had ever tried a simple but effective ‘no’ on her before. It was as final as the cast iron bumper stops at the end of a railway line and had about the same effect.
“I… I shall write to the Queen immediately,” Madame Holz bellowed. Katrin winced and began to cry.
“I find that you are not attending to your duties,” Menders said. “Might I suggest you return to the nursery?”
“There is no point to me being in the nursery without the child! The child goes with me. I am her nurse!”
“Katrin stays with me. To the nursery with you, Madame.”
“I am writing to the Queen,” she said again.
“When you’re done, bring the letter to me so I can send it for you,” he answered. “All correspondence in or out goes through me - a precaution for the Princess’ safety.” She glared and stormed out, banging the door shut.
“Come with me, little one,” he said to Katrin. “We’ll go see what Lucen is doing. I’ll let you wear yourself out for a while and then we’ll get some sleep before I fall down.”
He tucked her up in one arm, walking outside and around to the back of the house where Lucen was tending the kitchen garden, much hindered by Hemmett, who was thriftily collecting worms into a pile as they were exposed by Lucen’s hoe. The young worm rancher was greatly dismayed as his captured quarry continually escaped by burrowing back into the ground. He was approaching the yelling point of frustration when he looked up and saw Menders and Katrin approaching. He ran to them.
“Lemme see Katrin!” he bellowed.
“When we get over to your father,” Menders replied, extending a finger for Hemmett to hold. Hemmett latched on and tried to pull Menders along faster. Lucen looked over and stood up straight, leaning on his hoe.
True to his word, once he reached Lucen, Menders crouched and let Hemmett stare at Katrin. She reached out toward him. Very carefully he extended a finger, just as Menders had to him, and grinned when she grabbed it.
“My baby!” he announced. Then inspiration struck him. He went to retrieve a worm, with intentions of presenting it to Katrin. Menders, knowing Katrin’s proclivity for putting things in her mouth, stood up while the worm wrangler’s back was turned and grinned at Lucen, who grinned back.
“How does the gardening go today?” Menders asked.
“At a snail’s pace because of my helper here. Hiding from that harpy?”
“Just being lord of the manor,” Menders answered, handing Katrin to Lucen, who began to swing and toss her, which she loved. Menders took the opportunity to rub his eyes, which felt as if they’d been sandpapered.
“So what are you going to do about her?” Lucen asked after making a circuit of the garden holding Katrin at arms’ length, as if she was flying.
“At the moment, ignore her, because as soon as I take the edge off this one’s energy, I’m going to go to sleep,” Menders answered as Lucen handed Katrin back over. He bent and set her on the ground, holding onto her hands as she pushed with her legs.
“Want me to watch tonight?” Lucen asked.<
br />
“No, I’ll do it.”
“Can’t watch every night forever, Menders,” Lucen observed.
“I know that.”
“Why don’t you let Zelia take the baby for a while? You get some sleep,” Lucen said after a moment. “Madame won’t have any idea where to find her.”
“It’s better if I know exactly where Katrin is right now,” Menders said, lifting the baby and holding her high while she kicked with glee and giggled.
Lucen stepped very close and spoke very softly.
“You let me know if you need me to do something,” he muttered.
“Thank you,” Menders nodded. “I think Madame will probably leave on her own very soon.”
“However she leaves, it won’t be soon enough,” Lucen answered. He picked up his hoe, looked around to be sure Hemmett wasn’t about to stick a hand under it, and attacked the row of beans again.
Menders walked around the house, letting Katrin look at the flowers that were blooming. The midsummer air crackled with insect buzzing and birdsong. He glanced up when he was beneath the nursery to see Madame Holz glaring out at him. He waved up at her pleasantly.
Franz’s office was his next stop. The doctor was reclining in his chair, turned toward the window, a heavy book open on a small table before him. He was switching his attention from the book to a row of bottles, then back to the book. Menders walked forward silently and looked over his shoulder.
Poisons seemed to be the reading matter for the morning. Menders suspected the book text coincided with the contents of the bottles. Another one, Menders thought. Katrin, you never need to doubt Lucen and Franz’s love for you, that’s certain, and I will never doubt their loyalty.
Katrin reached toward Franz and crowed. He nearly fell out of the chair, closed the book with an almighty bang and wrenched around, staring at Menders.
“You white eyed little bastard!” he gasped. “You don’t walk, you float around!”
“I could take that very badly if I chose,” Menders replied, setting Katrin on the desk so the doctor could take her. Franz, badly rattled but covering well, tickled the baby and then blew loudly on her stomach, releasing a cascade of giggles.
“I’ll be sleeping for a while,” Menders said quietly. “I’ll keep her with me. If you would watch for Madame for me?”
“Consider it done,” Franz answered.
Menders’ last stop was the kitchen, where Cook was fuming and viciously sharpening her longest knife. Menders restrained himself from laughing. Another amateur contemplating murder.
“I need to rest, Cook,” he said, making sure she knew he was there first. He didn’t want her wheeling around waving that knife.
“Do you want to leave the little love with me?” she offered. He shook his head.
“You’re my last line of defense. Make sure Madame doesn’t get to my room, would you?”
“She won’t get past me,” Cook replied belligerently.
“Also, would you do something for me? Take several bottles of wine out of the cellar and put them out on the sideboard.”
She nodded silently. He finally made his way to his room, bolting the door behind him.
“At last,” he sighed to Katrin, depositing her in the middle of the bed, putting up pillows as barriers lest she roll off. Katrin immediately wiggled in his direction, smiling at him.
“Now, I’m hoping you’ll go to sleep,” he whispered, rubbing her back and letting her snuggle close. Thank the gods her eyelids were drooping…
He slept for a couple of hours, because the patterns of sunlight and shadow were entirely shifted when he woke to Franz shouting his name. Katrin lifted her head and began to whimper anxiously. He scooped her up and went toward the noise.
Madame Holz was blocked in the hallway by three people determined to keep her from getting to Menders. Franz continued to shout. Cook was giving Madame Holz the dressing down of a lifetime, while Lucen barred the way to Menders’ room, looking completely immovable. Menders watched as Ermina Trottenheim emerged from her own room. She made no move to join the other members of the household in their campaign.
“You will not take that baby and hurt her and treat her badly!” Cook thundered.
“I have orders from the Queen herself!” Madame roared back. “All of you are going to be very sorry indeed for the way you’ve allowed things to slide here!”
“Madame! What is the meaning of this disturbance?” Menders said, his calm voice scything through all the ranting.
“Sir, I have come to take that child back to the nursery where she belongs!” Madame Holz was glaring and he could see that her hands were shaking. So you’re beginning to feel the lack of wine very badly, he thought with satisfaction.
“She does not spend the day in the nursery,” Menders countered.
“That is absolutely irregular and absurd!” the woman shouted. “A child’s place is the nursery. Children must know their place!”
“You do not decide how things are done in this house, Madame,” Menders replied dryly, easing Cook in the direction of the kitchen. He caught Franz’s eye. The doctor moved forward rapidly, taking Katrin. Madame moved as if to intercept him as he walked back toward his office, but Menders stepped forward and held Madame’s gaze.
“Do not touch that child,” he said, cracking his voice like a whip.
“Who do you think you are?” the woman bellowed. “I am the Royal Head Nurse!”
“You know who I am, Madame, as I have explained before. My patience is wearing thin,” Menders answered. He stepped closer. He could smell the rage on her, to say nothing of her wild desire for something to drink. Her very eyeballs were vibrating.
“I will offer one more time while Sergeant Greinholz is here to witness it. Choose a place of retirement and I will give you a generous sum of money to go there and settle.”
“How dare you! I have orders, sir, and I will do whatever I must to follow them!”
No hesitation this time. She’d considered his suggestion and was not going to play. She had no moves left – but Menders did.
“Well then, what are we going to do?” he said conversationally. “I won’t let you have the care of the Princess if you’re going to subject her to the toughening you do so well. That is the beginning and end of it.”
He rambled toward the sideboard, feeling her eyes on him. He could hear her swallow as he walked by the bottles of wine Cook had put out.
“You will lose your head as soon as I send word back to the Queen.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” he asked. “Any letter will have to go through me or one of my agents.”
“I will leave and go to the nearest town where I may send a letter.”
“There isn’t a train for five days. However will you last without wine for so long?” Menders said caressingly. His fingers ran the length of the neck of a bottle of Rembenheitz, a particularly fine deep red, almost twelve years old.
“I serve the Queen,” Madame Holz blustered, her voice trembling. Menders picked up one bottle, and then another, perusing their labels. It was all very fine stuff indeed – Cook had chosen well. He removed the cork from one bottle before reaching for a wineglass. He poured the glass full and sipped.
He thought Madame’s eyes were going to fall out of her head. Lucen stood as if transfixed, watching the woman drooling.
“Thirsty?” Menders asked pleasantly, taking another sip.
“Perhaps… perhaps we can come to some meeting of the minds,” she quavered.
“Perhaps. But I will not listen to you so long as you think you can force your will on me. Perhaps if you show that you are willing to compromise, I will be able to work with you. I am a reasonable man… when others are reasonable.”
She looked ready to faint. Menders deliberately placed another wineglass and filled it. Her eyes were riveted on the red liquid.
“I too am not unreasonable,” she said, taking an involuntary step forward.
“Do you think you co
uld care for the Princess overnight, according to my standards?” he asked. “Her nursemaid was up all of last night and could use the rest. The Princess usually sleeps very well. It’s very easy, really. I’m sure a woman with your experience can manage it.”
“Yes, of course, yes, I can do that, very easily,” she said eagerly, watching as he took another sip of wine.
“Then you will take night duty in the nursery tonight,” Menders said, favoring her with a slight smile. “If you manage that without feeling that you must toughen the Princess with mistreatment, we will see what else can be done.” He picked up the other wineglass and held it out to her. “Care for a glass of wine?”
He thought she was going to knock him over. He hid his distaste as she guzzled the contents of the glass, wine running down her chin. Lucen grimaced and left the room. Menders set his own glass down, nodded to Madame Holz and walked noisily away, making sure his footsteps were audible to her.
Then he walked back silently and watched as she swilled down the contents of her own glass a second time, then drained the one he’d left behind. She looked around furtively and grabbed two bottles of wine, uncorking them before rushing away to the stairs, climbing toward the nursery.
“She’ll be falling down drunk by tonight,” Franz said a few minutes later, leaning in the doorway of Menders’ office, Katrin on his hip.
“I’m aware of that,” Menders answered. “I need a reason to send her back, and she’s going to supply me with one.”
“Using Katrin as bait?” Franz said, raising his eyebrows.
“I won’t be far,” Menders replied.
(7)
An Awkward Sea Bird
Katrin was wailing in the nursery.
It was very late, well after midnight, and the house was asleep – except for Menders, who was sitting silently in the hallway just outside the nursery.
The wailing went on. Menders waited.
He tried to force himself to block out the escalating howls. Sooner or later Madame Holz would have to do something about whatever it was that was making the baby cry. He was sure, despite the fact that she’d been drinking heavily all afternoon and evening, that she was still awake.
Weaving Man: Book One of The Prophecy Series Page 7
