“No,” he answered.
She didn’t look away from his eyes, as most people did.
“How did you raise her to be as she is?” she asked. “I understand you have taken liberties with her.”
Menders bristled with rage and barely managed to stop himself from lunging at her.
“I meant with her upbringing,” The Queen added, sensing his coiling anger. “Your father’s proclivities for treating people as objects were well known, but I would not have consigned this child to your care had you been like him. But it is obvious her training has not been… shall we say, usual? Don’t lie to me, because I know that she has not been raised according to the custom for royal children. ”
I’m dead, Menders thought, but at least I’ll have the pleasure of seeing you flinch with pain for everything you’ve missed of your beautiful daughter, to whom you’ve never so much as bothered to send a birthday gift.
“Madame, I have reared her as a loving parent would,” he answered. “She is my paramount concern. I have devoted the last eleven years to raising her with kindness, tenderness and love.”
She did flinch. But his satisfaction was short-lived, because he thought of Katrin, who would be terrified and confused at this moment, and of Eiren, doubtless weeping helplessly at The Shadows. He would not see them again because the world was mad and he was at the mercy of one of the maddest parts of it.
“That is all well and good, but it is not what was commanded of you. It is treason,” the Queen said softly. “However…”
She paused and let the word hang in space, like silence before a storm.
“You will find no objection coming from me,” she continued. “Given the results, I will not question your methods. The child is a credit to you. You are safe from any interference – from me.”
Suddenly Menders knew the threat of a traitor’s death, the threat that had hung over his head for so long, had suddenly and inexplicably been taken away.
“Go, white-eyed Lord Stettan. Take my daughter back to the country and keep her safe there,” the Queen said abruptly, standing. “I now know what I needed to know. Teach her well and watch over her diligently. Go.”
He bowed and escaped as quickly as he could. In the corridor, he came face to face with what had to be Princess Aidelia.
She smelled like a zoo, slobbered and drooled, her eyes roving in their sockets. Her red hair was greasy and foul. He could smell the decaying food caught between her scummy teeth.
“I’ll kill the country pig,” she raved, digging her nails into his coat sleeves. She hissed and rolled her eyes at him.
Menders backed her against the wall, glaring at her with his unshielded eyes until she quailed and flinched away from him.
“I see exactly what you are,” he said with a tone of steel edged malevolence that had been known to make grown men flinch. “I could kill you in an instant and no-one would grieve. Get out of my sight.”
“Freak – freak!” she cried in a panic, breaking free and running away down the hall.
As soon as was she gone, Bartan stepped from the darkness.
“There’s still time, hurry!” he whispered, showing Menders his watch. Ten minutes to midnight.
They raced down corridors, ducked into a passage and then tore through the Palace garden. Bartan led the way, running directly toward the Harbor.
The boat was just pulling away. Menders ran headlong down the dock and leapt over the water, landing hard on the deck.
***
Katrin collapsed on the bunk, crying into a pillow. Kaymar had gone up on deck to talk to Ifor at midnight. He’d tried to encourage her up until the last moment that Menders would come. Now it was obvious that he couldn’t. She had never known a day in her life without him.
There was a chorus of shouts up on deck followed by an enormous thump. She sat upright, then fell over as the boat roared into life and tore away from the dock.
Suddenly Kaymar was on the stairs, looking through the cabin door.
“Come up on deck,” he said, grinning widely.
She pushed past him.
Menders was sitting on the deck, swearing as hard as he could, holding his head.
“Menders!” she shrieked and ran to him. He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. Then he rubbed his head again.
“What happened?” she cried.
“I thumped my blasted head,” he groaned. Then he grinned at her. “But we’re going home, my Little Princess – and your mother, the Queen, has said she will not interfere with the way I’m raising you!”
“Certainly news worth making a grand entrance over, old man,” Kaymar said. “Come on, let’s get you patched up.”
***
Katrin slipped into Eiren’s room, where Menders was lying in bed. He heard her and smiled.
“And how is my patient today?” Katrin asked, mimicking Franz.
“Oh, achy and grouchy as the day is long,” he answered. Menders had been confined to bed by Franz because he was dizzy and ill from the injury to his head, and he wasn’t happy about it. Unable to read because of a terrific headache, he was restive and bored.
“I’ve also had a letter from the Palace and I’ve managed to read most of it,” Menders said, holding up a heavy piece of paper. “The Queen has formally decreed that I may raise you as I see fit. That is a terrible load off more than one mind, my dear Little Princess. She’s even signed it, so it’s official.” He held the letter out at arm’s length and admired it for a moment before blinking in pain and putting it down again. “I might have this framed and hang it over my desk.”
“Good,” Katrin said, sitting carefully on the bed beside him.
Menders gave her a look and settled himself more comfortably, flinching as he moved.
“All right, I know you need to ask me questions,” he said quietly, taking her hand.
She tried to gather her thoughts.
“My mother - why is she so dirty? I mean she smells, like… even animals don’t smell like that!”
“Probably for several reasons. When people drink as much as your mother does, they lose all comprehension of the real world. They can fall into states of melancholy, a deep sadness where they don’t care how they look and don’t even perceive how they smell or appear. And since she’s the Queen, people will take her lead, no matter how she keeps herself or chooses to live.”
It made a sort of sense, though the memory of that stench was still nauseating.
“Why does she drink like that?” Katrin asked next.
“The story is that your mother was quite an intelligent and talented girl, but her upbringing broke her spirit to the point where she had no ambition left to do anything but deaden herself with drink. Once a person reaches that point, it becomes a vicious cycle. They need more and more drink over time to get the effect that they seek.”
Menders looked very grave and Katrin flushed, remembering the time she and Hemmett had snuck half a bottle of wine out of the kitchen. They’d felt wonderful for a while after drinking it, giggling and howling like monkeys until they both suddenly vomited horribly all over themselves. Just then Menders came and caught them with the empty bottle. He’d said it served them right and gave them a stern lecture about not being allowed to drink until they were eighteen. After that, Katrin didn’t think she’d ever want to drink wine again. She’d felt awful for three days.
Menders gave her hand a squeeze and she realized she’d been sitting there silently for a while.
“My sister,” she said, and shuddered. The horror of that drooling, raving girl was soul chilling.
“Yes, I saw her,” Menders replied.
“So did I. Could I end up that way?” Katrin could barely make the question come out.
“You haven’t so far, Little Princess.” Menders didn’t smile. She looked at him and he pulled her closer.
“Do you remember how often I say that something is all right for now?” he asked. She leaned her head against his chest, hearing his heart beati
ng, and nodded.
“That’s all we ever have at any one time, Katrin,” he continued gently. “We can plan for the future and it’s good to do that, but the only thing we can be certain of is what we have at any given moment. At this moment in time, you are not mad. You’re a healthy, intelligent and much loved girl. Your life is a happy and productive one. Live with that, Katrin, always. It’s now that matters most.”
Katrin smiled and sat up, thinking. Menders waited patiently.
“What else troubles you?” he finally asked gently.
“Why did Kaymar tell Ifor to go to Surelia when we got on the boat?” she asked.
Menders sighed.
“I wish I’d been able to keep this from you until you’re older,” he said. “But I couldn’t keep you from having to go to Court this time. Since you were tiny there has been a plan to take you out of Mordania if something happened to me, because I don’t want you ending up living at Court or put in the care of someone who would be cruel to you. Should something happen to me, you would go with Franz to a house that I own in Surelia, where you would be raised as his daughter. Eiren would go too.”
Katrin felt a sickening twist inside her at the idea of something happening to Menders. He knew it, and took her hand.
“I’m not counting on dying soon.” he said, smiling, “but it would be criminally careless not to have a plan, just in case. Kaymar and Ifor have also said that if you did have to go to Surelia, they would go with you. You would never be alone in the world and you will never end up at Court against your will. It’s only good sense to have such a plan, Katrin. Don’t dwell on it, because there’s no point in fretting about things that will probably never come to be.”
Katrin nodded. Behind the sick feeling was warmth and gladness that the people she loved best were willing to go with her to another country if need be.
She had one more question.
“Why do you think my mother wanted to see me?” she asked. “I don’t think she loves me or wants me with her.”
“Curiosity, to see if you are turning out better than your sister is,” he answered immediately. “If Aidelia were my heir, I’d want to see my second daughter too. She was impressed with you – very much so.”
That didn’t make Katrin feel any better. She was not happy about her mother and sister and she didn’t particularly care whether her mother was pleased with her or not.
“I don’t feel very proud of them,” she blurted.
“Understandable, little one,” Menders replied. “They’re nothing to be proud of. Perhaps now that we’ve talked, you’ll understand why things are as they are. I’ve done all I could to shield you from them, but now that you’re growing up, I can’t do that so much anymore.”
Katrin looked at the floor. It was so much to know, and a lot of it was disturbing. She was glad she lived far away. She was glad that she had never known her mother and sister – and she was glad that she had Menders. She would have to think about all this, but she was sure of one thing.
“Menders – I don’t want to be Queen,” she said, looking up at him.
“I hope, my dear, that you never have to be,” he answered, patting her hand where it lay on the blanket. Queens of Mordania no longer ruled. Instead, they were used, by a self-serving and corrupt Council. The mantle of responsibility extracted a high toll – one he never wanted visited on Katrin.
(36)
Borsen Bound North
Borsen huddled against the wall next to the mattress he had to share with two of his half-brothers. His father had just come in.
“Time to move on,” his father said abruptly to his woman. “Get them out of bed, or they get left behind.”
Borsen fished his secret packet of food, collected from a rubbish bin behind a restaurant, from beneath his folded jacket. He tucked it carefully into one of the jacket’s inner pockets so no-one would find it. It would last him several days.
His father’s woman gave him little enough of the food she made, giving most of it to her own children, but he’d learned to make do. He didn’t get much because he refused to help his father rob people. His father had found years ago that he couldn’t see well. He’d declared Borsen useless, saying useless blind brats couldn’t expect much. The woman had been glad to see to it that Borsen had the scrag end from that day on.
In cities it wasn’t bad, because he could find food thrown away behind the cafes and restaurants, perfectly good and better tasting than anything he’d ever had before. When they went to the country, he starved, having to depend on the woman for whatever she would give him.
He snaked his hand under the mattress during the flurry of the woman getting her children to wake and dress. His thin fingers found his drawings. When no-one was near, he pulled them out and pressed them into another pocket.
Minutes later he was walking wearily along with the rest of them, carrying the small box that held his clothing. Then he remembered.
He hadn’t taken his scraps! His scraps of cloth from his mother’s sewing, which she’d given him to play with when he was little. He’d found them bundled into the clothing his father gathered up the night he’d taken Borsen away with him, the night his mother died. He’d taken care of them all these years and comforted himself by holding them against his face when he couldn’t sleep for being hungry – and now he’d forgotten them.
Hot tears flooded his eyes and ran down his cheeks, but he didn’t dare run back to get his scraps. He would be left behind and he had no way to make a living. He was ten, or maybe eleven. He couldn’t remember. It had been years since he’d been reminded of his birthday, not since his mother had died. No-one would apprentice a boy so young. He had to hold on until he was older and could find a tailor who would take him on.
They boarded a train bound north. Borsen tried to stay out of his father’s sight, making himself small and quiet.
“Once I fence this lot we’ll have plenty of food and drink,” his father said to his woman. “It’ll be easy living for us.”
Suddenly Borsen knew his father was looking right at him. He kept his eyes down and tried to disappear.
“Except for you,” his father said, his voice dripping with hatred. “Useless brats don’t get to stuff their faces. Gods, why didn’t you die when your worthless mother did?”
Borsen kept his head down and tried to remember his mother, the Giants beneath the soil and where the statue with the shining stone was.
(37)
Hemmett Goes To School
“Who am I going to play with now?” Katrin cried, glaring at Menders, her eyes brimming with tears.
Menders looked at her with a mixture of commiseration and frustration. She’d already pulled away when he tried to put his arms around her. He could understand why.
Hemmett was leaving for military school in the morning. A difficult situation between Katrin and Hemmett had been narrowly averted. Katrin was unaware of it and only knew that her sole contemporary and playmate at The Shadows was suddenly going across the country and would be away for months. At the moment Hemmett was overjoyed at being admitted to the school he’d worked so long and hard to be ready for and wasn’t considering the ramifications of this change in his life.
At nearly fourteen, Hemmett was already the size of a grown man. During the summer just past his voice had broken, and it was obvious that he was very physically mature for his age.
Within a week’s time, Kaymar, Eiren and Franz had all come to Menders and brought up the same subject.
Though perfectly respectful and decent, it was painfully clear to any adult that Hemmett was in love with Katrin. He gazed at her, sighed over her and fell all over himself trying to do things for her. Katrin, eleven years of age and with maturity nowhere in sight, was oblivious. She still saw Hemmett as her playmate and constant companion and that was all.
Finally Lucen asked if Menders thought that it would be possible for Hemmett to begin at the military academy this year. He was anxious and uncomfortable. His re
lief when Menders smiled was pitiful to see.
“He’s ready,” Menders told him. “If you and Zelia are agreeable, we can certainly send him this year. He’s been mad to go, so there’ll be no argument from him.”
“We’ll miss him, of course, but… Menders, I’m sorry about all this,” Lucen said, not one to mince words.
Menders shook his head.
“Don’t apologize. I’ve seen it coming for years. It’s just that we’ve been caught out because he decided to do two years’ growing in one summer. He’s done nothing wrong and he would do nothing wrong. I don’t want him thinking that he’s being separated from Katrin as a punishment. He’s worked very hard to be able to go to the Academy and it should be treated as a great accomplishment on his part.”
So arrangements were made quickly – perhaps a little too quickly, because Katrin was genuinely shocked when she was told Hemmett was leaving.
There had been no time to lose, as the academic year was about to begin. Menders realized that he had been so determined to get Hemmett ready to go and away from Katrin that he hadn’t given enough thought to the impact such a sudden change would have on her.
Now it was obvious that he’d miscalculated. She was heartbroken and angry.
“He was supposed to go next year!” she wailed, covering her face with her hands.
Menders was at a loss. Her grief and dismay were very real and for once she refused to let him comfort her. Worst of all, the intensity of her reaction let him know that the right decision was being made. Katrin wasn’t in love with Hemmett, but much more time together would create a bond so strong there would be enormous trouble in the future.
“Little one, I’m sorry,” was all he could say. His voice shook.
That did it. She looked up, someone else’s misery making her forget her own. Menders managed a smile. He wrapped his arms around her.
Weaving Man: Book One of The Prophecy Series Page 45
