Story Fel By the Wayside (Complete)

[Kathy in FL]

Amazing what comes to you in the form of dreams brought on from a bit of bad pork. This story will likely be shorter than most as it is moving quite fast. If you like it I'll finish it, if not ... well, my imaginings have to go someplace or they crowd up my head too much. LOL!


FEL BY THE WAYSIDE

Chapter 1

“Please don’t give up hope Fel. Negotiations might bog down again like they did yesterday, might even fall apart all together this time.”

I sighed as I wiped the sweat off my upper lip and chin with a piece of ancient and threadbare curtain before going back to crawling along the row of radishes to thin them out while still being gentle enough that the thinnings could be replanted and traded at the upcoming barter market. I looked at my crèche sister and told her, “What little hope I had dried up and blew away on the wind last night when we overheard how desperate the town elders are to get out from under the debt burden they built over the last few seasons.”

Docia looked more pensive than I had ever seen her. She wasn’t a deep thinker normally and it must have cost her to realize the pretty fantasies she had built to deal with her fears we’re nothing but moonbeams and wispies. “We would have starved without the barter from the Kipling traders. Harvests have gone bad for three years now.”

I growled, “It wasn’t a barter deal Docia. They sold our souls to put food in their bellies. Maybe if it had just been food it wouldn’t be like ashes on my tongue but they bought a lot of mead with our bodies to wash away their worries while leaving us to make do then and now with whatever future they’ve sunk us into.”

“No one else would deal with us. Everyone local turned their backs. They didn’t care if we starved or not.”

Still angry I told her, “And no wonder. The Headman started that reckless feud with the Lakesiders for no good reason beyond some stupid, drunken insult that wasn’t even worth noticing. Hiring those mercenaries to do his dirty work was bad but the disease they brought with them was worse. It wasn’t just the Lakesiders and our people fighting for their lives after that, it was forts and settlements for miles in all directions after it got into the water supply. I wish …”

Docia looked around scared. “Hush! Do you want another punishment?! Wasn’t being in the stocks for a week in the snow and ice enough to remind you of your place?”

I snorted, caring nothing if I was overheard or not. “They meant to be rid of me without having to claim the murder. They are only sorry the only thing I lost was a little toe. They would have been happier if it had been my life.”

Docia may have been shallow witted but that didn’t mean she was stupid. “Still, there’s no need to make it worse. If you weren’t always so honest with your opinions …”

A snide twitter from three rows over preceded the question, “What could be worse than being sold like cattle at auction? Oh that’s right, being sold like a bag of fertilizer to be nothing more than a bed warmer like the lowest saloon girl.”

Seeing Docia begin to wilt I stood up to the blonde girl who was gardening in the mud in better clothes than I had ever owned. I told her, “Docia will be a wife so keep a civil tongue in your head Daphne.”

She smirked. “Her maybe. You …” Another scathing twitter then she said, “You are going to be a …”

In a rare show of courage Docia said, “She’s going to be a wife too!”

An older woman, Daphne’s aunt and wife of the current Headman, barked a rude laugh. “Where they’re from they may call it being a second wife but here we know that’s just another word for whore … a mistress to help entertain the husband and keep him satisfied so that the real wife can have some peace.”

As a few other women nodded and murmured their agreement I almost asked if that was why her husband escaped to the town’s saloon every chance he got. But I didn’t. I knew Docia would take some pains for my words and she didn’t deserve bruises on top of her fears just for trying to defend me.

A man dressed in what passed for sec gear in our town road up on a strawberry roan and barked, “Stop your cackling you bunch o’ brainless feather dusters! The elders are calling for everyone to get to the square and it will be two weeks in the stocks if you drag your feet and hold things up!”

Two weeks in the stocks would be a death sentence for some and I watched them scramble away as I limped over the rocky path feeling every sharp pebble through my thin soled moccasins.

“Hurry Fel! I know your foot is sore but …”

“If you’re that eager to meet your fate then go.” At her crestfallen expression I felt like kicking myself; just because I was bitter was no reason to hurt poor Docia. More kindly I told her, “Just go. There’s not much worse they can do to me but there’s no need for you to get into trouble too.”

Reluctantly, as she was a true crèche sister, Docia finally began to jog as I slowly followed trying not to stub my foot on what remained of the old highway. In my great grandparents’ childhood the area had been called Saburbia or some such. I let the old fact slip by without examining it; I didn’t feel much like going over history as the future was more heavily on my mind at the moment. Most would have been surprised if they had realized I even knew any history which was just one of many things I had learned to keep to myself.

Girls did not attend the village school beyond the point where they had learned to read, write, and do basic household sums. Boys got a little more schooling but not much. They were assigned apprenticeships by the time they were ten summers and their masters were expected to train them if they needed anything more. My father taught me at home but was careful to also teach me that it was a survival skill best kept to myself as the men of the town were a different lot from my father who had come from the east on an adventure and then stayed after falling in love with the blacksmith’s daughter.

Finally I reached the town square which was nothing more than an old parking lot that had crumbled to gravel before my mother was born. Clumps of weeds were the only thing that could grow there and those had been trampled during the recent barter meetings and looked even more bedraggled than usual. My luck was in for once and no one noticed I was late. They were too busy watching the drama being played out by Daphne and her aunt as they found out being the niece of the Headman wasn’t protection against “being sold like a piece of cattle at auction.”

The Headman, formerly the one who spoiled Daphne out of all proportion, backhanded her so hard I saw droplets of blood splatter the ground. “Silence girl and don’t embarrass me or yourself further. You serve my purpose and that is all.”

Daphne, brutalized doubtless for the first time in her life, fell silent in shock at the sudden change in her station. The Headman, a wide and loutish sort, said in the sudden quiet, “The deal is done. Six horses, four teams of mules, a dozen brace of geese, and fifteen maids of marriageable age ends our debt.” It was no mistake that the maids were listed last in importance. “All men of the town will put their print in blood on the paper and the Kipling men will do the same. Each settlement will retain a copy so that no man might refute it. Are there any objections?”

The question was merely a formality and everyone knew it. “So be it. I give the maids so named one hour to pack and return here. Should any disobey her family’s life and all their worldly goods are forfeit.”

Even I was shocked at how quickly things happened after that. About half of us had no family at all and even fewer belongings we could call our own, but what we did have was quickly tucked into rucksacks and kept close in hand as we waited in a corded off area for the other girls to say tearful goodbyes to family they would likely never see or hear from again. The only exception to this might be if some could convince a peddler to carry news on their yearly routes and peddlars had been avoiding us like the plague since … well since the plague had come through.

We were herded down the old highway until we went further than I had ever travelled before, even with my father on his yearly hunting expeditions. We were as silent as the men who guided us like sheep and it gave me time to contemplate our new masters. It was strange but the men looked somehow disgusted but resigned at the same time. Finally, the captain stopped and said, “Put them in the wagon. I wish to make Glennings Pass before dusk. No more delays. Let us be off for home.”

The men seemed to get a bit chipper at that so I could tell they were eager to be home, likely as eager as I was for the trip to last forever. I had no idea what was to become of us after we reached our new dwelling place. I contemplated what the travel from this point might be and I wasn’t sure what I expected but certainly a comfortable trip in a well sprung wagon wasn’t part of it though that is closer to what happened than what I feared.

We were three weeks on the road, sometimes walking, sometimes riding when terrain necessitated it, occasionally picking up another wagon of goods with a driver and guard each, when we finally came to what I thought at first was a large lake. Instead I found out it was a wide river. I had heard of the Mississippi from my father but had never thought to see it much less cross it.

The captain, a man whom we eventually learned was properly named Capt. Rob Uhl, addressed us directly as little as possible. That was nothing unusual as most of the men of our town had been much the same. What was unusual was in his own way he was as bad as a nursemaid with a sick babe to tend when it came to our comfort and safety. I hadn’t seen the like since my father died at the hands of the Lakesider that had set our house ablaze with my mother, brother, and old granny purposely trapped inside.

The captain, for all his consideration, treated us as children and tended to expect us to act like them as well. His every word to us reflected this. “We cross by ferry. You will be safe so long as you stay where you are put. If you do not wish the indignity of being tied with the cattle then do as you are told.”

I knew from my father’s stories that the Mississippi could be traitorous and I was no fool. I was told where to sit by the ferrymaster and sit I did. Or at least I did until another ferry passing too close beside us from the opposite bank suddenly revealed itself to be a cleverly disguised pirate vessel.

When a man fell beside me and Docia was nicked by a ricochet I went cold as I sometimes did. Knowing it probably meant my life was forfeit as women in our town were forbidden weapons, I took the bow and quiver from the fallen man and then did what my father’s daughter was taught.

Every arrow I shot found its mark. Each time I thought I had shot my last arrow the quiver would magically refill. It wasn’t until the last pirate fell that I saw it was the injured young man and Docia who were refilling the quiver with arrows. I wasn’t sure what to think of that and was even less sure when a wide-eyed Docia whispered, “He says you’re nearly as good as his aunt … and she is Capt. Uhl’s wife.”

I didn’t like feeling any kind of connection to my new masters but what is done is done and I was nothing if not a realist. I handed the bow and quiver back to the young man and then silently started to help strip the pirates of anything useful before they were tossed onto a raft that was then towed to shore behind the ferry. The pirate vessel was also stripped but it had a huge gash in its side and was soon sinking so was abandoned to its fate. When we reached the dock the ferry operators were thankful enough that the pirates had been routed that they refunded the cost of passage for all persons and goods, a sum even I knew must have been handsomely sized.

At camp that night a noticeably dour Captain Uhl looked around at the wounded then addressed us all. “No loss of life but too many injuries. I would have paid twice the sum for passage if it would have avoided this.” His lips thinned then in what looked like pain as he glanced my way and I prepared myself for the worst.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 2

The Captain looked at me and then growled, “Don’t be insulting woman, I’m not going to beat you.”

I hadn’t said a word and had hoped my thoughts hadn’t shown on my face. Daphne, who had slowly regained her confidence due to the liberal application of male attention which seemed to give the Captain indigestion, managed to irritate him further when she said, “You should … and worse. She knows the penalty for a woman touching a weapon.”

It was Docia’s obvious fear and not my own that had me answering, “That rule is barely four summers old and was only made because the elders feared that their women would become as fierce as the Lakesider females … especially after the sickness halved the number of males in town, leaving us to easily outnumber them. It was a stupid rule and was made to keep us down. Your own mother was a fighter and died in battle defending your home.”

A muttered, “And see where it left me” were Daphne’s only words before she dropped her eyes from mine. I didn’t feel particularly powerful at her actions, more it reminded me that she was like she was for a reason and had had no more choice in most things than the rest of us. I made to move back into the shadows but I wasn’t allowed to.

The Captain looked at me consideringly and said, “You kept in practice.”

Knowing I was well and truly caught I gave up and shrugged. “A body that is expected to work has to eat and those of us in the crèche were sometimes … forgotten.”

A few of the girls, including Docia, nodded slowly. The Captain’s nephew muttered sotto voice, “Sounds like something that stingy piker would do. From the fat around his middle he didn’t miss too many meals though.”

I had learned to hide my emotions but it was a struggle not to laugh at what the Headman’s outraged expression would have been had he heard what was said and the other derogatory comments the Kiplings men made in agreement.

The Captain cleared his throat and all was silent again. Then addressing me directly, “Be that as it may … are you the only one that is trained?”

“Yes, Captain Uhl. Most of us are useful in a general way but I am the only one who was taught to kill humans if need be.” My bluntness momentarily flummoxed him but then he said in a harder voice, “Today wasn’t the first time.”

I’m still not sure why I answered him truthfully except he had the same steel gray eyes my father had … and that I had as well when I caught my reflection in a bit of still water. “The raiders that killed my family didn’t stay on this side of the veil for long.”

A boy who could have been no older than my own sixteen years said scornfully, “Liar. No twelve year old girl could have killed a band of warriors.”

“Raiders not warriors,” I snapped not liking his insult. “And age doesn’t matter when you’ve heard the screams of your Ma and baby brother as they were burned alive or seen your Da scalped just ‘cause two Headmen were thinking more with what’s in their buckskins than what God gave them inside their skulls.” Ignoring Daphne’s gasp of outrage I told Captain Uhl, “My father taught me the bow, the sling, and how to build traps for both man and beast. Life has taught me how to use a blade and an ax when need be.”

Docia was trying to shush me but stopped when the Captain asked, “Can you ride astride?”

Of course he meant on a horse but by the sniggers coming from a couple of the younger men I could imagine where their mind took the question. Ignoring them I answered, “I prefer mules to horses, I feel they’ve got more sense.”

Daphne muttered, “It’s not sense but kinship you feel.” I saw Captain Uhl’s lips just barely twitch beneath his bushy mustache and silently conceded that for once Daphne might be right.

The Captain beckoned me closer to the fire but as I walked forward my foot knocked against a saddle that was being used as a back rest by one of the men. I had to stop and catch my breath around the sudden and blinding pain. I opened my eyes to find the Captain forcing me to sit and asking, “Are you hurt girl? Why did you saying nothing?”

Docia had already run to my side understanding what had happened and the whole sordid tale came out. My refusal to work in the saloon “for the men’s pleasure.” The punishment in the stocks. The snowstorm. The frost bite. How I finally had to amputate my own toe when the Headman refused to allow anyone to help me. “Docia sewed me up – she’s good with a needle and awl – but we had to be careful the job wasn’t too good or the Headman would have put her in the stocks too. I wasn’t going to have that. Besides, it’s not so bad now; I just stubbed it. I won’t leave Docia so even if you dump me off for being gimp I’ll follow to make sure she gets settled properly.” I ended more belligerently than good sense dictated but I could feel Docia tremble beside me at the idea of us being separated.

The young man gently looking my foot over was the Captain’s nephew as well the group’s medic. “Uncle, she’ll be fine. It is likely diet and overwork that have slowed the healing. Father can confirm it when we reach the fort but he’ll tell you the same thing. Leave her go, she’s too much like Aunt Winnie; she’ll make noise if she thinks someone is fussing over it and only be more trouble.”

I jerked my foot away from him but it was Docia who made me blush with irritation when she smiled admiringly at the young man and whispered shyly, “That’s Fel alright. She’d rather die silent and in pain than live beholden.”

Capt. Uhl snorted and said, “Enough.” He wasn’t overly rough but everyone obeyed and knew it was time to be serious. “Girl … Fel is it? … you’ll take your turn filling out the ranks. You’ll be watched so get no ideas of running off. None of us can afford the wasted time it would take to hunt you down and haul you back. We are heading through an area known for highway men.” At my confused look he explained, “Consider them a variety of raider. Most of them just ne’er do well locals living out in the bush but capable of being extremely vicious and occasionally clever. They’ve usually got more sense than to attack a caravan this size, particularly from Kipling, but the year has been leaner pickings than usual for the forest dwellers here, and between our wounded and our goods they likely won’t be able to resist at least trying.”

Rubbing my nose and thinking I asked, “How do they usually attack? Head on or by stealth?”

He gave me another considering look like I had surprised him and he didn’t particularly appreciate it. “Each group – and there are several as they can rarely maintain a coalition for very long – has their own signature. The most common strategy is to pick off the wagon drivers then rush in to create as much shock and confusion as possible as they take control of the goods and run off into the woods with them.”

I gave it a thought or two and then let my tongue wag. Turning I said, “Daphne, you Luce and Mara stay to the middle of the wagon. You have your talents but fighting isn’t one of them. Hannah, arrange the strongest of us to protest the weaker. Docia, you and Nel had best ride in the wagon holding the wounded men and be prepared to take on more if we are attacked. None of you prattle and if you must speak then whisper. If God wills it they’ll give themselves away before they hit; if He doesn’t then take their eyes out if they get close enough. Blind men can’t aim worth a flip. If you can’t take their eyes, go for their gullet and spill their tripes.”

Turning to the Captain I said, “You want me to help you then don’t leave the rest of us helpless.” His face shuttered but I barreled on. I looked at Hannah and though she wasn’t happy about it she nodded her head in agreement and I said, “Any weapons we get we’ll turn back in. If you won’t give us weapons at least lend me a blade so I can cut spears without having to hunt up a sharp rock to use. We will not double cross you, it wouldn’t make sense. We are too far from home and familiar territory to be able to make sure we all escape and I for one won’t leave anyone behind.”

Several of the men gave me a hard look but a big bear of a man named Carter stepped up and said to the Captain, “Begging your pardon Cap’n it only makes sense. The gals will stay in the wagon sure, but there ain’t enough able bodied to be all over ‘em all the time. This way too they’s invested in keeping their own skin on. ‘Sides, they ain’t give us no trouble up to now. We’ve dealt fair with them and they’s done the same to us. I actially expected to be clawed and scratched to ribbons by now after the way them’s men of theirs talked.”

I snorted and said, “They aren’t our men.” A little quieter I added, “At least not anymore. If you really mean to make my friends wives and not saloon girls …”

The Nephew as I had started to call him in my head said, “See Uncle? I told you.”

Irritated and affronted in good measure the Captain said, “It’s to be brides as set in the bargain. We gave our word.”

It was Hannah, who eyed the man Carter in a way I’d never seen her look at a man before. She asked him, “Truly … brides?”

The man honestly blushed but smiled and said, “Truly Maid Hannah. It would be more than my skin – any man’s skin – was worth to go against the word and honor of Kipling.”

Captain Uhl snorted, “Enough of this. Let the women of Kipling handle this ridiculous situation. For now … for now … we have a bargain and you will get your spears. Woe to you – any of you – if you lie.”

I wanted to tell him to stop trying to be scary and go huff and puff somewhere else when I saw a few of the girls blanch in fear but knew that they needed the lesson that regardless of whether we’d been treated fair up to this point they were still just men and strange men at that and trusting them fully would be a mistake.

Contrary to his rough looks Carter acted more teddy bear than grizzly. It made me begin to wonder why these men from such a strong settlement were so eager to please women from so far away when they should have gotten women closer to home to swoon at their feet easily. Between Carter, myself and Hannah the spears were soon made. Hannah was the daughter of one of the town’s best Huntsmen … or had been until he had fallen in battle with a tomahawk in his back. I nearly wished a pox on our old Headman until I remembered knowing the randy old goat it would likely be spread to every man in the village once he spent some time at the saloon as was his practice.

Nerves kept me from sleep as soundly as I should have with a hard day ahead of me, and a good thing too. I was staring out to the edge of the camp when by the meager light of the setting moon I saw one of the guards get silently dog piled. I jumped up and gave the same sharp whistle I had heard the men give at the beginning of the battle with the pirates, then the brawl was on.

The spears had been distributed to those of the women that I knew wouldn’t hurt themselves with them. I was supposed to get a bow in the morning but it wasn’t even time for the cooks to be about yet. The only weapon I had close to hand was a piece of limb from a fallen tree branch. I swung it like a club, connecting with heads and other soft spots as I waded through men trying to get to where I had last seen Docia. Then I heard a scream off in the trees, much further into the trees than it should have been, and I knew the girls were being carried off. I vowed there would be no rape of the Sabine women on my watch.

As I fought I had gained ground and was near one of the campfires. I dropped my limb and pulled out one from the coals that was orange enough on one end that when I shook it a beautiful flame erupted. It gave just enough light that I could take off after my crèche sisters without having to stumble around in the dark.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 3

The sun was starting to awaken from its slumber and brighten the clearing where we had made camp but a night as dark as pitch still ruled under the tree canopy. I was about ten yards in when I was grabbed the first time.

I hate my peaches being manhandled as it leaves you no dignity and it hurts something fierce; but the grungy highway robber was the first man I’d ever killed over it. I jabbed my torch in his face and he released me with a scream. I continued to rake the burning poker across his ear and his greasy hair and beard caught fire turning him into a human torch.

Right before the idiot started running in circles fanning the air and causing the flames to spread even more I reached in and stole the big pig sticker off of his belt and then skipped off after the sounds telling me that my sisters were putting up a good fight.

They’d caused so much trouble the human traffickers had been forced to stop in a small clearing and were smacking them around trying to subdue them so that they could continue to carry them off. Showed what they knew; we’d been knocked around enough that their fly slaps weren’t working as well as they’d expected. From out of the corner of my eye I barely had time to move to take the sting out of a fist coming my way.

With as much contempt as I could manage over a busted lip I asked, “Who taught you to fight you wuss? My old Gran hit harder with a broom and her bedridden and suffering from bent bones.”

An enraged bellow was followed by the man making a round house swing at me but in the process opening up his arm pit as a target for the long blade in my hand. As soon as I pulled it free blood gushed from what I knew would be a severed artery. The man would be dead in moments and was already falling shocked to his knees trying to stop the spurting flow. I turned from him and started stabbing kidneys and tripes, which was only determined by the side they had turned towards me.

And I wasn’t the only one. Hannah, with a reach to match her proud height, was using a spear to advantage until it got hung up in the ribs of one man. Another man was about to crush her when suddenly Carter came out of the brush bellowing like a bull and with one ham-sized fist nearly took the head off of her attacker.

I would have been satisfied with just rescuing my sisters but the Kipling men decided to obliterate the highwaymen from existence. The remainder of the battle was as bloody as the first part but was over much quicker as the highwaymen gave up in resignation. When all was said and done Captain Uhl had the corpses all strung up in a large tree so that any traveler would see and that word would get around that injured or not, you did not mess with any from Kipling.

The strange thing to me was that despite the brutal finality of the battle there was no gloating by the men of Kipling. By rights they could have. Most men in my experience would have. Instead these men simply gathered their wounded, patched everyone up both male and female, and headed on down the road quietly with not even one mocking jab at the inadequacy of their opponents.

My foot was sore and my face and knuckles bruised but the Captain still had me astride a mule with a stout bow in my hands and a quiver across my back. I watched the tree line and listened for out of place sounds beneath our own travel but would occasionally glance at Docia and Nel as they helped the Nephew tend to the wounded too injured to do anything but lay or sit in one of the wagons. The Captain rode at the head of the caravan. He looked at ease but I could see the tight lines of anger around his mouth and wondered if it was at the additional delay or the injuries caused to his men.

Carter, apparently thinking that our camaraderie over the spears and the battle made it easier to speak to me, approached and asked, “So’s … Maid Hannah …”

I rolled my eyes. “Just because I carry this bow doesn’t mean that I call Cupid my kin. If you want to know something about Hannah go ask her.”

“Welllll ….” The big man was actually embarrassed. In that moment I couldn’t have kicked the poor teddy bear had my life depended on it.

“Honestly, you Kipling men are so strange.”

He asked, “In what way Maid Fel?”

“Well that for one. Calling us all ‘Maid’ like we have some station to our place in this world. And for another … well, the lot of you act …” I had to stop as I didn’t even have the words for how strange they were. I snorted. “Let us just say that you act different from the men of our town and leave it at that.”

Looking honestly curious he asked, “And that’s bad?”

I shook my head. “No, not if this is truly real and not some play acting meant to fool us for some reason of your own. My crèche sisters might take a while to get used to it though.”

“Not you?”

Keeping an eye on the road I said, “Not so much as they. My Da was strange in his own way too. He was a traveler that stopped and then decided to stay as he liked the look of my Ma; the taste of her cooking didn’t hurt either. He was more like your Captain only not so refined of speech. He …”

Even after four years the loss of my family felt like a dagger in my heart and I gave up trying to explain. Carter didn’t seem to be offended at our unfinished conversation … the big man didn’t seem to get offended by much at all. For all his size and ferocity in battle he seemed good natured and easy going.

The next to try their luck was a young buck by the name of Lem Hemmings asking after Daphne. “She’s … she’s …” I was forced to glance over and witness a moony look that had me looking away as fast as I could to keep from laughing.

“Hmmm, yes Daphne looks … hmmm …”

“She looks like a real lady. My mother warned me not to fall for some Outland girl with no manners. Maid Daphne … even my mother could not find fault with her.”

Oh Glory. “Best then to wait for you Ma to … er … have … er … have her say before you go any further. It would be good to show her how much … er … you respect her advice.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from saying something cheeky. It would suit me fine for Daphne to wind up with some namby pamby but I could not wish on her the mother in law from hell; she did not deserve that much pay back though I’ll admit a part of me was tempted.

It was like that off and on to the point I went from being embarrassed to finding it a little funny to beginning to be irritated … and perhaps a little jealous as none of the men approached me for me, only to find out a bit about my crèche sisters. Luckily I only had to endure a few more days of it before we approached a tall, concrete stockade with heavy gates.

Before we were within a hundred yards riders came out and there was a lot of back slapping and laughing. The way Nephew road up and was embraced by one of the men from the stockade, and by their similar look and build, I took the older man to be his Da or something close to it. The Captain had us push on and he seemed a bit anxious. The women were beginning to be anxious as well and I watched their confidence and curiosity begin to leave them, replaced by a subdued fear of the unknown.

 

[debralee]

Kathy this is really good. Please keep writing on it. You have me hooked already. Thanks.

 

[Jeepcats 3]

Please Don't stop!!!!!!!!!
I'm hooked .
MOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR Please!!!!!!!!!!!

Jeepcats3

PS I hope your Aunt has recovered!!!!!!!!

 

[DustMusher]

MOAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Great start, Kathy. Waiting for the rest of this story -----



And all the rest.


DM

 

[sssarawolf]

Well dang girl you better not stop now.

 

[methos]

I agree, looks good so far. I've always enjoyed reading stories from the better half's perspectives as you have done time and time again. Gives me much food to think on.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 4

Once inside the stockade I didn’t dare dismount but I did put the mule as close to the women’s wagon as I could.

Docia whispered fearfully, “What’s to become of us now Fel?”

I patted her shoulder to try and comfort her because I had no words that would do so. Nephew rode over with the man that had greeted him so joyfully and introduced him. “Father, these are the maids we brought back. All are in good health – or as good as can be expected under the circumstances – but a few do need for you to take a closer look at their wounds.” I could see the distrust writing itself upon my sisters’ faces and after a moment and a nudge from the older man, Nephew could as well.

He looked at me at a loss for how to proceed. If not for the building hysteria I saw in the eyes of a couple of the women I would have let him sink on his own. Putting aside my own discomfort I said, “Is this … your father perhaps?”

“Huh? Oh … oh yes. My wits have gone begging. Maids of … well …” He gave a small smile and said gently, “Maids of Kipling, may I present my father, the Chief Healer of our settlement.”

I asked, “And he’s a real healer and not just a saw bones?”

Nephew’s mouth fell open but the older man had picked up on what I was trying to do. He smiled and nodded. “Not a saw bones … we chase them out of the settlement every time they try and make their way here. But you needn’t worry about me; my wife is Head Midwife and will most likely prefer to see you first. For some it is less worrisome to see a healer of their own sex.”

Nephew’s ears turned rosey as he realized his mistake and rushed to say, “None of that happened on the way here Father. We took care of their honor. But I suppose Mother would still like to assure them they are safe now.”

My sisters relaxed but only slightly; it was the best that could be done under the circumstances. Unfortunately, after the two men returned to the Captain’s side, that feeling of safety didn’t last for long as we all noticed how many men were crowding into the area and how some stared hungrily at us.

Unknown to me why I had come to trust Captain Uhl my eyes sought him. It was with no small shock that I witnessed him embracing a woman … a very pregnant woman. It was at that moment that a man grabbed my leg and without meaning to I called out, “Captain Uhl?!”

I didn’t like the sound of panic in my voice. I liked even less the effect it had on my crèche sisters but there were too many men and they seemed to surround us. Realizing just how vulnerable we now were, my mind began to spin. At least at home I would have known what to expect and I would have known which man to be the most dangerous or devious. With so many unknown males fanning out I felt like a lamb in the middle of a jackal pack.

“Enough! Let me through I say!!”

It wasn’t Captain Uhl’s voice cracking like thunder but that of an older woman that wasn’t afraid to use the cane she leaned on to make her point and move someone along a little faster. Captain Uhl himself wasn’t far behind her and what her cane didn’t move, his presence did.

When she was near she said, “You there, girl …” I saw Captain Uhl lean down and tell her something. “You girl … Fel is your name. Drive this wagon forward between the posts of that fence over yon.” And turning to glare at all the males in sight she said, “If I catch one uninvited past that gate, regardless of family I’ll drop you from the lists. Have I made myself understood?”

Whatever that meant seemed to work on them better than even a painful crack in the shin with her cane had done.

I tried to control my shakes as I climbed from the mule to the wagon seat and do as she ordered. It was easy enough to go forward once the men had moved out of the way and I relaxed just enough not to spook the team of horses I was trying to drive. As soon as the back of the wagon passed through the posts a large gate swung shut and then was barred by two boys who were summarily told to help us get down, to take the cattle and wagon, and then to scram or the old woman would know why not.

It was only a matter of minutes before the boys were hurrying off with the wagon and my crèche sisters and I were left standing with what belongings we had. The old woman glowered and then sniffed. As a capable looking woman came into the space we occupied the old woman said, “Mona, these are the lot of them and sorry enough they look.”

“Mother!” the woman reprimanded but not with any real anger. She looked us over and I saw kindness in her eyes, real enough even if some of it was faked. “My son has said your lives before Kipling was not easy.” She stopped as if trying to pick her words carefully. “I cannot promise you a life of ease here either, but you have the chance at a different life than the one you left. Certainly one bereft of … hmmm … saloons and rules against protecting yourselves and your homes if attacked. But first I would like to get to know each of you and perhaps you will let me tend to any injuries my son was unable to whilst on the road.”

Finding my voice I said, “You are Nephew’s mother, the wife of the Chief Healer of Kipling.”

A little confused before figuring out who I meant she smiled, “My son is named Robbie after his uncle. Did he not introduce himself?”

I shrugged, “Everyone called him Uhl but then there was Captain Uhl. It was easier in my mind to name him what he was … the Captain’s nephew … or just Nephew.”

Still smiling like a picture I had once seen in a book the woman said kindly, “I see. Yes, Robbie is my son and my husband is the Chief Healer. And I do what I can to make sure all the midwives in Kipling territory have what they need to do the job right.”

Still not ready to relax I asked, “My crèche sisters were told they would be wives.”

“And that is important to them? You?”

I shrugged, “It is better than being a whore. As a wife there is usually a family, or the chance to make one, and it’s a safer life.”

Her smile faltered momentarily then she sighed. “I had hoped to put you more at ease before your new life was dumped in your lap but it appears that perhaps it is best gotten out of the way first.”

I immediately tensed, sensing that at least a few facts had been left out on purpose and they had to do with why the Kipling men searched so far afield for women.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 5

“I know this must all be overwhelming to you but we really do mean you no harm.” I moved slightly in front of Docia and Hannah in front of her little sister Nel. The other women bunched up in their own groups and it is wasn’t missed by the Midwife or her mother … or the few other older women that stood not too far off. “Please, sit and give us a chance to explain before you judge us.”

Hannah and I looked at each other and we knew that as nicely as it was phrased by the beautiful lady that in reality we had no choice. It might have sounded like a request but it was really an order.

After we had all arranged ourselves on the stools and benches that had been placed for us to use the Midwife said, “My name is Mona … Mona Uhl. My husband is the brother of Captain Uhl that brought you here and as I said, my only child is Robbie Uhl who cared for your injuries on the road. I see at least one or two of you have wondered why a large, thriving settlement like Kipling would go to such lengths to bring women in to what should be a healthy population.” At my nod she said, “And you would be right, it is passing strange that we have been forced to these lengths. But I assure you it isn’t because of death or disease or abuse or anything of that nature … or at least not for Kipling. Our practices have been clean and careful since the Dark Days. Unfortunately we cannot say the same for the territories on our other sides. Warring and natural disasters kept their practices hidden or without consequences until the last few years. There is now a horrible imbalance and the number of males far outnumbers the females in the lands around us.”

It was Hannah and not I that asked, “Was it disease that carried their women off?”

“No.”

Surprisingly it was Daphne who had the answer, “They were baby killers. Girl children were destroyed so that families wouldn’t have to support them and take the food and resources away from the boy babies.”

We looked in shock as Mona confirmed it but she asked sharply, “Who told you? Did one of the men …”

Daphne was quick to say, “No. My uncle was the Headman of our town. He had heard stories and rumors. He thought to get one of the peddlars to broker a deal with those groups for a good price to provide women but no peddler ever came, only the men from Kipling. He was angry thinking that you would be selling us off at a good profit on top of the high price the town had to pay for grain and mead.”

I tensed but Mona snorted in anger. “As if I would see any female delivered into the hands of those … those … Never, not even over my dead body. Those beasts have nearly ruined us all.”

Docia asked, “How Lady Mona?”

The title startled her enough that she was able to regain control. “I’m no lady child. Mona is good enough. And the how takes … takes some explaining. Any population can only stay healthy as long as there is sufficient diversity. Kipling had been bringing brides in from these other groups since the Dark Days. As a result birthrates were relatively stable in Kipling and any instability in the other populations was put down to poor diet, their constant warring, lack of ethnic diversity, and many other factors … except the unexpected reality. Then a dozen years ago they became less welcoming to the idea of Kipling men coming into their territories. They claimed we were stealing their women but we both knew that wasn’t true. They tried to steal ours and it was eventually discovered what was happening. Our healers were outraged … as much at the practice as at their stupidity. Their leaders tried to stop the practice of infanticide but it was ingrained by generations and culture and could not be eradicated. Then ten years ago a plague came from the south. It was mild for adults but for children it was devastating. All our peoples lost so many.”

She paused and I could see the grief of a mother on her face. Robbie was likely not her only child … he was her only living child. “As bad as it was for Kipling it was worse for the genetically undiverse populations around us.”

I found my voice and asked, “Were all the girl children killed?”

“No, not all but too many … far too many. Kipling for whatever reason has a high percentage of males born each year in our families … more brothers than sisters are born. We always balanced that out by being able to find brides for our sons amongst our neighbors. For the last five years though … the gap has been unable to be closed. Now fewer than a third of our men of reproductive years has a wife to share those years with. Social unrest is imminent and will weaken Kipling and make us vulnerable to attack by our neighbors who become more desperate with each passing season. Some of our young men have chosen to emigrate and go adventuring as they call it, being unwilling or unable to settle down. That has taken some pressure off but not enough. Some have even gone and come back with wives they’ve found for themselves. Again this is only a stop gap measure.”

Seeing it I said, “Somehow you made sure you were the only ones that would trade with our town. You made sure they were in a position that they were forced to give in to your demands. But how did you make the crops fail?”

Quickly she shook her head, “The crop failures were real as were the plague and the war. None of those were of our making … but we did shall we say … take advantage of what was providentially provided.”

I wanted to tell her that God had no hand in such workings but since I couldn’t absolutely know that I felt safer keeping the words behind my teeth. God worked in mysterious ways according to the Book and He could also seem ruthless … but I was no Padre and the one that had been brave enough to continue to visit our town despite the Headman’s threats had died in the plague. I decided I would have to think long and hard before I would dare call such events providential regardless of whether they were or not.

Seeking another piece of the puzzle I asked, “So you mean to match us up in some kind of lottery? Is that the list your mother spoke of?”

Quietly but firmly Mona said, “Not a lottery, not exactly. For Kipling to survive our families must be able to thrive. For our families to thrive there must eventually be enough of them so that we no longer are dependent on other territories for the bulk of our women. That means that all the families must thrive.”

“That diversity you keep talking about.”

Nodding she said, “That’s correct. Some of our families are doing better than others at this time. Our leaders are doing their best to see that no family dies out. The list is of men who are ready and able to be responsible husbands and fathers from each clan or family within Kipling. Fourteen of you will be brides to men on this list.”

Nel, still trying to catch up and slightly confused said, “But there are fifteen of us.”

“One has already been spoken for but rest of assured she will be just as well taken care of and will be a wife … not a … um …”

Having a feeling I was the fifteenth I said laconically, “The word you are looking for is whore.”

Slightly annoyed and embarrassed Mona gave a small nod. “I wish to …”

I was slightly annoyed myself but mostly at myself for having forgotten what I had already learned … that I was slated to be a “Second Wife” whatever that meant. But I didn’t let my annoyance – and bitterness – get in the way of keeping my promise that I would protect Docia and see her properly settled. I interrupted Mona by saying, “What I wish is to know how you mean to match up my sisters with these … men … on your lovely list.”

A rusty sounding laugh came from behind us. I turned to see the pregnant woman I thought to be Captain Uhl’s wife. Looking at Mona she said, “She has you there Sister.”

Obviously uncomfortable Mona tried to take control of the conversation back but I asked another question first. “Will you do it by looks? By talents? Did the men pay a fee for the right to have a bride? Where any of the men on the expedition to get us on that list because I can tell you that some of them already have preferences.”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Mona snapped.

“And children don’t think they will get belly aches from little green apples either but they do.”

The Captain’s wife snickered again and came to look me over. “I hear you are good with a bow … and a few other things as well.”

I nodded, not sure of her game or just how deep it ran. “Good.” Giving me an appraising look she asked, “How would you determine which man got which bride?”

“You mean if I thought this lunatic scheme would actually work?” At her nod I gave it some thought. “First off I would want to know if any of the women had any particular talent that could be matched up with the men’s family. It would be silly to landlock a fisherman’s daughter into a miserable marriage to a baker. Sillier still to expect the blacksmith’s daughter to want to sit around tatting lace all day with a family of tailors.”

“Second, the men must be someone the women can stomach as well. Can you see Hannah there with some little squirt who prefers counting the Headman’s gold rather than working out of doors with his hands? Or Daphne there trying accept in her bed a herdsman that neither knows nor cares anything about manners and socializing?”

Nodding the woman asked, “Anything else?”

Shrugging I said, “A girl with no dower will not be welcome in a family that expects one regardless of what talents she may have. If you wish a productive marriage to occur, you can’t expect a girl to be harangued by a mother in law or aunties who treat her as a slave because she has added no value to their family coffers.”

Mona said, “Do not speak so roughly about our people. They are not so … so barbaric as the Outlanders are.”

I snorted, “Barbaric? Baby killing went on for generations beneath the noses of your own midwives. You seek to take advantage of downtrodden people so that your own might survive. You are willing to purchase women for the men unable or unwilling to seek out their own because it would mean cutting the apron strings that tie them here. Barbaric? Outlanders? I suggest you take a look in your mirror. I don’t blame you for the desperation you find yourselves in, but call it what it is and don’t try and dress it up. That’s like putting a silk dress on a pig … it is silly and without purpose.”

The pregnant woman barked another laugh and I remembered Robbie had called her Aunt Winnie. “Oh, I like you girl. No wonder you made the Captain uncomfortable. He could see what he was doing through your eyes.” She sighed and shook her head. “Be that as it may, the dye is cast. All any of us can do is make the best of it. There will be a feeding frenzy if we don’t stick to the agreed upon plan. You saw how it was out there.”

I clenched my jaw in anger. “Yes, I saw. Why on earth didn’t you pick a neutral place to bring a man and woman together without the rest of the settlement looking on. Of course they’ll be jealousies if what you’ve said is true. It would have been safer. At least if they take an instant dislike to each other because the match was poor no one has to be embarrassed to death.”

I saw Mona blanch. Winnie said, “It was suggested.” And the way she said it I suspected she was the one that had done the suggesting and been ignored.

I shook my head. “No doubt you expected us to be ever so grateful of your rescue. But I have to tell you all you’ve done is exchange one prison we were in for another. We had no choice. We were never offered any choice. The least you could do is give my sisters some say in what man they get tied to.”

Suddenly Daphne started crying and saying, “I want to be with Lem … he’s cultured and refined … like a real man should be. Don’t make me go to one of those others. Please.”

A little irritated at the drama queen I opened my mouth to tell her to knock it off before she ruined it for everyone else when one of the older women from the sidelines rushed forward and put her arms around Daphne and said, “There, there. It’s plain as day you’ve fallen for my Lem and who could blame you. There, there now. So few truly see his worth and certainly none so quickly as you have.” Looking at Mona she said, “Mona, I demand this young woman be allowed to be my daughter in law. She’s simply too lovely to go to any of those others on that list. I won’t have it. They’ll … they’ll … Well it is too horrid for words.”

I shut my mouth and had to look away before I made a muck of it. Trust Daphne to land on her feet. Mona, shocked and unaware of the tricks Daphne could get up to stuttered, “You’ve … er … really … er … formed an … an … er … attachment for Lem so quickly?” Rather incredulously she asked, “Are you sure we are speaking of Lem?”

The mother dragon said, “Of course we are talking about my Lem. Who else would we be talking about?!”

Mona just cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Have any of you others formed … ummm … attachments?”

Hannah surprised me by saying boldly, “Carter.”

A wizened old woman stepped forward, she was bent with age but still seemed capable and looked Hannah up and down. “Well … you seem a likely girl. You’re certainly big enough he won’t break you should he get to horsing around. He’s brother is going to be disappointed though, he was hoping for a bride this time.”

Hannah all but hefted Nel up and said, “This is my sister. We could come as a pair.”

Mona started to say something but then looked at her list and admitted, “Both of your sons are indeed on this list Marjorie.”

Marjorie slapped her thigh and said, “Then it’s settled. Sisters for brothers. Like as not it will make it easier on the whole lot of you.”

There were a few others that had already made their choices and then the rest of them were paired off with the most likely partners. The number of women were dwindling and with each name Docia squeezed my hand tighter and tighter. Finally I had to sit and put my arm around her but even that was not enough and she started to fold upon herself.

I whispered urgently, “Docia, say something.”

“I can’t. She’s his mother,” was her miserable reply.

I shook my head and then looked up for some wisdom and courage to save my crèche sister from herself. I pulled her forward with me and Mona stopped, startled as I asked to see the list. “Why?”

Ignoring her I looked at the list and sure enough Robbie’s name was on it. I shook my head in irritation. “Look Mona, you may not like me and that’s fine, but don’t punish Docia and keep her in suspense. Your son is the only man I’ve ever seen my sister even able to speak to without squeaking and he looked like he was pleased with her company as well. She has sewn more than a few people up and leaves barely a scar. Though you wouldn’t know it to look at her she’s not the least bit squeamish and she knows a thing or three about what herbs to use when there’s no healer around.”

Mona got a blank look on her face and then consideringly looked at Docia. “Is this true?”

Finally Docia looked up, “He’s just like Prince Charming in that book Fel used to read us.”

Ugh. She would bring that up. I thought life would have taught her that no man was a prince but for some reason Docia always kept that little flicker of hope alive. And by God, I was going to see that she had her chance if it was the last thing I did.

But surprisingly Mona just smiled and said, “I thought the same thing when I first met his father.”

And then it was over with. Except for me. It was Docia’s shocked face that warned me that she had noticed. “But … but …”

I hugged her and said bracingly. “Didn’t you hear what Mona said in the beginning? There’s not the first thing to worry about. Do I look worried? All I care about is that you’re fixed up. Now go … I’ll let you know how it goes. Besides you’ll have Nephew … I mean Robbie … to look after you. No need to be scared. He doesn’t seem like the hitting type.”

I watched them all as they were led away by their new families leaving me behind. It was then that Winnie said, “Liar. You hate this. I can see it even if no one else does. Were I in your shoes I’d be cursing the unfairness.”

I turned to look at her and sneered, “Fairness is for children’s games. Life … you’re born, you live, then you die. If you’re lucky there are a few good memories in there to take with you to the grave and beyond. If you don’t …” I shrugged. “That’s life too.”

She crossed her arms above her large belly then sighed. “I wish it wasn’t like this. I like you too much.”

“So is it you that I’m to play underwife to?”

I had surprised her and she started laughing so hard she had to sit down. Finally she caught her breath and said, “I dare not tell the Captain what you just said. Likely he’d dig a hole and try and pull it in after him.” She hiccupped a few more laughs and then added, “No, the Captain hates every bit of this business. He thinks the men should take care of their own business and if they can’t they have no business being wed to begin with.”

“Then … then who?”

“My nephew and his wife.”

“Robbie?”

She shook her head. “No, my other nephew. My other sister’s son. But we have to do this quietly as there will be some grumbling.”

“I go no where until I get at least a bit of explanation of what I’m being forced into. I may have helped ease the way for my sisters but I’m not fool enough to really believe there was ever any choice in this matter.”

She looked at me hard and then said, “It is a shame. You would have been so much better married off to a man who could …”

“Are you saying there is something wrong with your nephew?”

She shook her head then sighed. “No. Come and let us sit down. Better you hear the unvarnished truth from me rather than trying to piece it together with bits and pieces from everyone else I suspect will try and take a hand in how things work out.”

 

[No3buckshot]

Looking good, Kathy.

Waiting on more.

Buckshot

 

[mudlogger]

I'm whining here....

Kaaa tthhhheeeeee! I neeed moooorrrreee!

please?

It's great.

 

[Deena in GA]

THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!! I've read all you've posted in one sitting and am well and truly hooked. Please don't wait too long to post more!

 

[robb1313]

PAW Fiction Enthusiast Dilemma: Another GREAT story from Kathy to follow ---

THANKS!!

 

[sssarawolf]

Oh man thank you, really looking forward to MOAR. Another great story.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 6

“My nephew’s name is Lee Corman though what you’ll hear most call him is Cor. He was named after his father … a man much …” She stopped and shook her head in disgust. “If I had to guess Lee would not have been out of place amongst the men of your town. He was hard, could be vicious.”

Stopping her right there I said, “I’ll fight when he hits me.”

She shook her head. “Let me explain things in order. Right now we are talking of Lee. And Lee wasn’t a hitter, at least not with his fists; words were his weapon of choice. Brilliant but troubled, that’s what everyone called him. It took a while to see how troubled, but none of us ever understood why. He had every advantage. During his childhood and before the Corman family had a lot of power and influence as they were one of the Originals.”

“Originals?”

“They rank even higher than the first families of Kipling. There was a Lee Corman that was the right hand man of the founder of Kipling but the family even pre-dates the Dark Days. Cor’s father has been the only bad apple amongst them. The Corman family was here before Kipling himself arrived. That’s what being an Original means; you’ll hear some refer to it as the pre-Kipling era, and there are few enough families from that time left that their influence still holds some weight today. Kipling brought men and weapons to protect the area but it was that first Lee Corman that helped to keep everyone fed. As the Dark Days continued Kipling remained the leader but it was Corman that rallied the locals to throw in with Kipling so that all could survive.”

Resigned to a history lesson whether I wanted one or not I said, “So? Do these Originals still hold some kind of sway over the area? Is there still a Kipling in charge?”

Winnie shook her head. “Kipling was a brave man and an honorable one. He died defending the people that he had sworn an oath to protect. He and his wife lost their only son in the Conflagration of one of the great cities. Their daughter married a son of that first Lee Corman but because of some of the sicknesses of the time was unable to bear children. In fact, many women of that time were unable to make children or if they could the babe did not necessarily stick in their womb long enough to live outside of it. There was also a problem in that so many men were dying … war took so many on the battlefield, learning to survive the new ways took many more, and pestilence even more than the first two put together. It left too few protectors and families were in danger of being obliterated. It was then that the First Families declared that the family lines that remained could not be allowed to die out and the … the practice of multiple wives came to be.”

I rolled my eyes. “And everyone lived happily ever after.”

She chuckled dryly. “Of course not. It created as many problems as it solved. Jealousy was rampant in the beginning. Some women were … well, they lorded their fertility over the women not so blessed. There were races to see who would bear a child to the husband first, who could bear the most children, whose child would inherit the bulk of his father’s estate. The first son was always given the greatest attention. In due course some men had too many wives and thus they all suffered the lack of care a wife should be able to expect as her due. And some men … yes some men became like the men of your town, taking advantage of the situation for their own ends and pleasures.”

Irritated at the chaos of it I asked, “Then why do it? Why allow such a thing to exist if it caused so many problems?”

She shrugged. “Because it served its purpose. Kipling survived and eventually thrived. Our population and reputation grew until we were a force to be reckoned with and other peoples stopped attacking us for our food and territory. But most of those that had participated in multiple wives gave it up as soon as their house was sufficient. Many of the settlement fathers went to their graves thankful to finally be free of all the responsibilities of so many wives and children. The practice had already mostly died out by the time of the plague Mona told you of. As the Dark Days closed there were more than enough men and too few women to continue it. Only a few families still practiced it.”

“The Corman’s I take it did.”

Cynically she said, “Given Lee’s … personality … you would have thought that to be true but it was the exact opposite. Lee had very little use for the human race in general and women in particular. All he wanted was his precious books and his rovings to seek out old tech to tinker with. If you could not assist him in that you were without use and purpose, at least in his mind. No, it is Francine’s family that made it their way of life and who were the last to give it up when there were not enough girl children to go around and even then only with a fight.”

“Who is this Francine?”

“My nephew’s wife,” she answered.

“So your nephew, this Cor, has gone out and procured another wife to keep his first one happy.”

Chagrined she said, “Not … quite. Cor doesn’t know about you. He is away on an expedition to the southern lands to bring back …”

When she fell silent I filled in the blank. “He’s bringing back another group of women.”

“That is not his sole purpose. His main goal is to trade for some exotics that our gardeners want to try and get started here if possible, to diversify our crops and fruit. But he has the authority to offer safe passage to up to a dozen females should they choose to come take a chance on finding husbands.”

“And may I ask why those women get the choice my sisters and I did not?”

“Because my nephew is even more dead set against the plan of the council of families than the Captain is and he would not agree if it in any way smelled of bartering bodies or slavery. Francine’s family has been after him to bring home another wife almost since the first week of their marriage. He has refused up to this point so they took matters into their own hands.”

I jumped up. “Are you mad?! You mean to not only make me … force me … to be a second wife and on top of that its to be by foisting me on a man that not only does not know of my existence but who will be … who will be … well, furious might not even describe it. A man who by your own account is the son of a man who is … Gah! Do I get to dig my own grave first so at least my corpse won’t be rotting above ground for eternity?”

Winnie was too big with child to move fast but she did grab my arm and pull me down beside her. Her strength, given her advanced condition, was surprisingly great. “Cor is not like his father, the only thing they share is a certain look and coloring. Cor can be ruthless but he is not by nature cruel. And there is more to this. Cor is the last male Corman. Not the last to carry the name but the last in the male line period. They were one of the few lines that had more maids than males born to them. Attrition and plague left Lee and his brother the last carriers of the Corman genes. His brother died without male issue and Lee’s only son is Cor. Cor had three sisters but they were all lost in the plague as was his mother, God rest my poor sister’s soul.”

A sigh preceded more explanation of the Gordian knot I was facing. “Francine’s family – the Lathrops – have a great deal of influence as they head up the farm that produces most of the fuel for Kipling’s large farms. It has taken decades for us to get the production high enough that plantation farming is profitable without resorting to slavery, a practice strictly outlawed in our land. We can thank the Lathrops for this advance and it is a credit they deserve. But now a few in the family have become … ambitious shall we say … and insulting them could create … difficulties.”

I was giving her words lots of thought. In fact never in my life had I been forced to use as many of the lessons and stories from my father as the situation I now found myself in. “You are picking your words carefully Winnie which says more than the words themselves do. These Lathrops want the Corman line on their side and perhaps under their thumb. How many of the other families have they done this to?”

A smile of pleasure lit her face. “You are more than anyone expected you to be. The Captain suspected as much.”

Not sure whether it was a compliment or not I told her, “I’m no one’s tool or weapon or … or some pawn in this deep game you play. I’m going to have enough trouble with Francine the Gorgon.”

Pleasure turned to true concern on her face. “You mistake the matter Fel. You are not part of the controls being put in place to maintain the balance amongst the families and Francine is no monster. She’s actually quite lovely and sweet most of the time. She and Cor are a true love match. She’s just a bit … silly and spoiled … and not up to the rigors of life on the Corman estate, nor of the position she is expected to hold as the wife of a family leader. She is used to there being a lot of people to share the work burden with and on the Corman estate she has no one yet is expected to provide as if she did. I did what I could but this babe coming so late to the Captain and I and … I simply cannot do it any longer. Both the Captain and Cor are off traveling so much and Mona has threatened to order me to my bed if I don’t ease up.”

“You live on this … this estate with your nephew?”

She nodded. “The Captain was named Cor’s guardian when Lee died several years ago. When Cor came of age to assume his role he asked us to stay. The Captain does not have the time or desire to cultivate his own plot of land and being cooped up inside the fort all the time is more than I can stand. I need the woods and wild things to keep me sane. You’ll learn I’m not much for housewifery myself. I used to do as much traveling as the Captain did before my sister died and Cor needed mothering. After Cor married Francine the plan was for me to again take up my place beside the Captain but then …” She just sort of lifted her hands and looked at her belly and shrugged.

“Hmm. Babes do tend to change people’s plans more often than not. Da had planned to take our family back to his people only Ma got caught with my baby brother and then Gran became bedridden. The move was being put off until Gran passed but … They’re all gone now and thankful I am too. I would hate for them to see the fix I find myself in.”

“So when you say these girls are your sisters … ?”

“Some of them are my crèche sisters … girls with no family or no family that wanted them thus were raised in a single long house to save trouble and have ready at hand workers for the town. The others are sisters by circumstance.”

“Even that Daphne girl?” she asked with a sardonic humor.

I shrugged, “God works in mysterious ways. We may be able to pick our friends but He is the one that picks our families for us for His own purpose.”

A cautionary look met me with the words, “Careful of the God talk Fel. The Lathrops can be sensitive about their beliefs.”

“And if they are sure of their beliefs they wouldn’t be so sensitive. I’ll not change just to suit the ones that are changing my life all out of proportion … but I won’t hurt anyone’s feelings on purpose about it either. My father taught me and his father taught him, so on and so forth back to before the Dark Days. My beliefs are mine and not even the Headman could make me give them up.”

Winnie shook her head. “You are going to stir things up. I’m not sure if that is good or bad. But you will certainly be a foil for Francine.”

Speaking my mind once again I said, “It sounds more like I am marrying this Francine than I am the man you call Cor. It is Francine this and Francine that … and further about her family. The only thing I really know about the man who will be a husband to me is that he will not want me and likely disgusted by it all.”

Winnie nodded, “I will not lie to you. Do not get your hopes up that Cor will seek out your company except as he has to. The situation is such that he will not be able to put you away from him or turn you out and he will not be happy about that. He has never looked at anyone but Francine and she at him so far as I know. This will be very difficult for all of us, but for Cor especially. His pride will smart.”

“And I have no pride?”

She shook her head, “That is not what I meant.”

“Perhaps not,” I said and left it at that. “So when do I get to meet this man that will hate me on sight?”

Winnie sighed, “You’ll not help anyone by thinking like that.”

“And I’ll not help myself by living in a fantasy either. My lot is what it is. It is either face it and live with it or … or …” Sighing in resignation I told her, “There is no alternative. The best I can hope for is that he will leave me alone and I him. I have enough pride that I won’t let this destroy me but I also have enough that I won’t go begging for scraps from a man who doesn’t want me. I didn’t have much hope of a good marriage with my people but at least if I had, the man would have been mine and mine alone to call husband. Your people’s way is not mine. I may have no choice in this, but I warn you in all else I will exercise what choice I do have.”

 

[sssarawolf]

As you see I check back often lol, thank you.

 

[Deena in GA]

Woo hoo! Thanks for the new chapter already!

 

[Barb]

I'm liking this story. Thanks.

 

[Carlysle]

As always your stories grab the reader and they have to hang on for the ride.

Great writing again Kathy.

Carlysle

 

[seraphima]

Oh my goodness, you have come up with another dilly of a plot! Go, go, go!

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 7

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. I only saw my sisters from afar but they looked … content with their lot if not beaming like a bride from some pre Dark Days fairy tale. Docia was actually smiling and Hannah seemed pleased to have finally found a man she did not tower over or snap if she hugged them too hard. Daphne stood proudly between that pale, blonde Lem and his mother and I hope her fortunes don’t turn to ashes.

The men, what little I noticed of them, seemed a bit stupefied; sort of like they had walked into a closed door. Their new reality looked like it was a bit more overwhelming than they had expected it to be. I saw a few jealous pouts in the crowd milling about them but none that seemed dangerous. As bad as things are for those men I suspect they still have hopes of other women being brought in … or perhaps they will find the courage to go on a search of their own. Or perhaps they have been made promises that tide them over. Whichever way it is, it isn’t my place to care.

I had another run in with Mona when she demanded I submit to an examination. I all but told her to get stuffed albeit not that crudely. When she told me that all the brides had been through the routine I told her, “I’m not a real bride. I have the story Mona … I’m just going to be the real wife’s housekeeper or some such. What does it matter if I up and die tomorrow beyond the fact that you’ll have to start your hunt all over again? If I am contagious it is way passed too late to do anything about it as I’ve been traveling long enough and close enough with others that you couldn’t stop the spread of anything. If I am dying you can’t stop that either. What pains I have are my own and I will tend them as my own as I have for some years now.”

Mona, becoming truly irritated said in a strained voice, “I am not your enemy and resent being treated as such.”

“Perhaps you are right, but nor are you my friend. You have a hand in my predicament even if it is that you choose not to do anything about it. All I ask is that you give Docia a chance. She’s a good girl and will likely try and please you greatly if you will let her. As for me … it doesn’t matter. Just leave me be.”

“This … this … anger is not what any of us wanted.”

I rolled my eyes. “Then you should have picked some silly, witless maid that would have been grateful for the gilded cage you apparently find so attractive and useful as my prison. I’ll do my duty from my own sense of pride and worth and to keep my sisters from feeling the slings and arrows of my existence. Just don’t expect me to bow and scrape like it is really anything to feel blessed for enduring.”

Mona didn’t exactly stomp off – she was too much lady for that – but she wasn’t exactly skipping with joy either. Winnie slipped into the tent and stood looking at me a moment before shaking her head. “Mona isn’t the enemy Fel.”

“So she said.”

“She’s a good person.”

“I’m sure many of you are ‘good people.’ But that doesn’t mean that you are above buying and selling a life for your own comfort. And in this case it is my life, my body. I’d like to see how all of you ‘good people’ would feel if you walked in my footsteps.”

“Do you mean to cause trouble?” she asked with a warning growl in her voice.

“You must have learned that from the Captain.” Her eyes widened when she realized I wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “Look, I already told you I don’t want trouble and will not give it when possible. What choice do I have? All I really want is for this to be over and to be left alone. Or can you not understand even that small bit of it?”

Her lips thinned but she nodded. “The carriage is ready. Let us be off as it seems no matter what we try to do for you you will turn it on us.”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t truly understand do you. You aren’t doing anything for me … you are doing it to me and for yourselves. If your babe is a girl, you better pray her fate is different from mine or you may yet come to understand more than you would ever want.”

I grabbed my rucksack and moved to step outside only to view the receding backs of my sisters as they were driven away in much laughter and merriment. I shrugged, not even knowing if I would see Docia or the others again. I had my doubts. Even if they meant what they said, life had a way of souring even the best of intentions.

I then looked for the “carriage” Winnie had spoken of. Seeing the Captain standing over by a strange looking boxed-in wagon with high sides and a top I took my courage in hand and walked towards it of my own free will.

As I walked I realized there was a young woman already seated inside it. She was dressed simply but well and the closer I got the more of her I saw. Her skin was the color of the Headman’s best linens … light and fresh and unused to rough handling. My own bronzed skin told me she could not get out in the sun much or if she did it was with a wide brim and gloves to cover her hands. Her hair was every bit as blonde as Docia’s but to me it did not set on her faded coloring as well. Her brows and lashes were only slightly darker than her curls which is to say they seemed to nearly blend in with her skin. Her cheeks and lips were rose colored but not by nature; someone definitely used a coloring pot and without it her waif-like appearance would have turned to wraith-like. The overall effect was angelic and frail and I immediately saw myself in the opposite position. If she does indeed think that she won’t be the first to view me as more demon than damsel.

I stopped by the Captain who was watching me watch the young woman. Carefully he introduced us. “Fel, this is Francine. Francine … Fel.”

Poor Captain. He was even more uncomfortable than I was. The woman – though she was only a few years older than me she seemed somehow younger – turned to me and with great violet colored eyes asked, “Are you … you angry? I heard them say you were angry. My aunts said you would be grateful to be rescued, happy to come live with me and be my sister. I don’t understand. Don’t you want to come live with me?”

Oh glory. I didn’t know whether to call the ridiculous act a trick the way they would have been with Daphne or simply her way of trying to disarm me so that I wouldn’t consider her a threat. Until I decided I wasn’t going give her any more than I had to.

I told her quietly, acting as if I didn’t really want to scream at the top of my lungs at how bad I hated the world in that moment, “I don’t know what I am. Let’s leave it at that. From what I’m told this isn’t your doing so it would be stupid of me to hold you responsible for it.”

I felt the Captain relax whether her realized I sensed it or not and he bid me climb into the carriage. I sat as far from Francine as the sacks and bags already on the benches would allow. I helped to lever Winnie up so that she too could sit and she chose a place between the two of us but on the bench on Francine’s side of the carriage. A wiry and cranky looking man climbed into the driver’s seat and four other outriders joined the Captain. Leather curtains were dropped and then tied in place making the interior of the wagon dark and stuffy.

“Oh I hope I don’t get ill don’t you Winnie? Why ever do we have to leave this way? I wanted to say good bye to my aunts first."

I realized Francine had Winnie at least partially fooled when she answered like she was speaking to someone slightly slow witted. “We talked about this Dear. We are trying to avoid a situation. As soon as we are well away from the fort the Captain will lift the curtains and you will have your fresh air.” I almost snorted but didn’t want to let her know I could see through her game. At least not until I knew the lay of the land and could see her purpose better.

After a few moments a tremulous voice asked, “Are you really an Outlander … um … Fel?”

It was dark enough that I permitted myself a small smile behind my hand. If this was the best Kipling had to offer Daphne was going to be Head Woman before all was said and done.

Winnie asked a little sharply, “Fel, did you hear Francine?”

“Sorry. I was trying to figure out how to answer her without scaring her. She seems rather … young and … inexperienced. I have no idea if she even knows anything about what life is like outside the stockade fence.”

I heard a shoe scrape and realized if I wanted to keep the game going I would have to be careful how much I irritated the woman. She hadn’t liked the idea of being what she was trying to portray herself as; a contradiction that doubtless she would eventually trip over without my help. I wanted to get some of my own back but I didn’t want to live in a constant feud so I determined to control myself and eased up on my anger and said, “My Ma was an Outlander but my Da was from this side of the Mississippi.”

The Captain’s voice startled all three of us. “You didn’t mention that.”

For the Captain I would snort to my heart’s content. “Did you ask? My father was a young man on an adventure when he saw my Ma … the rest is worse than a sickly sweet fairy story. He saw her, he loved her, her father had no sons and welcomed someone that already knew the family trade and …”

“Which was?” he asked.

“Which was what?”

A small pause that told me he knew I was being stupid on purpose then he said, “The family trade.”

“My grandfather was a blacksmith. My Da was a fair hand at it himself. It all seemed to be … providential. At least until they were all killed for a man’s ignorant feud.”

“Do you know the name of the place he was from?”

I turned to give him a freezing look but realized he wouldn’t know it and instead asked aloud, “Why would you want to know that? I’ve never been there and no one would know me … Da thought that likely they had mourned him dead for some years because he hadn’t returned from his tomfoolery.”

I sensed more than saw the Captain’s irritation at having to admit, “Curiosity.”

I shrugged and said, “Oh well, so long as you’re being honest about it.” A light cough from Winnie was either a warning or appreciation at the small joke. In the dark it was too hard to tell. “He named the place Dover. I don’t know where it is at exactly, Da never told me that.”

There was an odd pause then the Captain asked, “Are you sure he said the place was called Dover?”

“Of course I am sure. I had to listen to enough stories of the people there growing up. The apple trees he would climb. His Pawpaw’s barn where they hung tobacco. How the church doubled as a school and the padre teaching him and swatting him in turn. The stories only matter to me so I don’t know why you are curious.”

Whatever his reply was I missed it as the wheel of the carriage bounced in and out of a deep rut jarring us and the goods enough to rattle my teeth. Francine gave a small scream and I felt Winnie slide from her seat just in time to lean forward and brace her.

“Hey! Captain! Tell the blind man driving this thing there is a woman with babe in here and she’d doubtless not like to land on the floor more than this once.”

The carriage jerked to a halt and the rear curtain was snatched back and the Captain was just in time to see me putting Winnie back in her seat and checking to make sure she was alright.

Before his mouth could form a word I added, “I’ll drive or ride if you’d prefer to brace her if it is going to be this rough the rest of the trip.”

He surprised me by only taking a moment to say, “Aye. Climb in my saddle but …”

“… no funny business. I’m being watched. You’ve said that before.”

He glowered at me but with no heat in it. I looked at his horse square in the face and told it, “I prefer mules. Don’t give me a reason to prefer them even more.”

I heard Winnie laugh at my words and a light twitter that had to belong to Francine. The bull sized snort could have been none other than the Captain. Of course he would add, “And don’t give my horse reason to prefer mules either Fel.”

Well, at least he could give as good as he got. We traveled for several hours this way until one of the outriders said, “We’ve reached the bridge Captain.”

“Well then stop and let us get these curtains up. It is as hot as Beelzebub’s Bellows in here.”

I could see that I had indeed gotten the better deal even if I had been left out of all conversation and forced to ride in silence being glared at by the outriders and occasionally by the carriage driver as well. The Captain was ringing wet with sweat and both women looked ready to swoon in real distress.

“This place is mad,” I mumbled as I grabbed my wineskin from my rucksack and held it so I could squeeze water into the mouths of Winnie and Francine. “Give me some cloths so I can dip them in that creek so that can cool off.”

“We’ll do better than that Gilly,” one of the outriders said. “We’re to have our lunch here under the trees and you can fetch ‘em a whole pan of water.”

“Then stop your jawing and give me the pan already,” I snapped.

A mildly respectful look replaced his sour puss expression as he watched me dismount without help and head to the creek bank and then bring back a full pan without spilling it.

I looked at the Captain fanning Winnie and then at the women. “Have them sit on that stump and take off their shoes. The pan isn’t big but they should be able to share enough to have one of their feet in at a time. I still want some cloths to dampen so they can spread them across their necks.”

The same outrider threw me some pieces of fabric and said, “Here Granny. And when you’re done see if you can lend a hand with this here blasted teapot as the ladies likes a cup with a little honey with their lunch.”

“It’s too hot for tea pots and tea and Winnie certainly doesn’t need to be drinking that sludge in her condition. Save the fire and hand that picnic basket to the Captain so he can make himself useful. I’ll make us all some drink that won’t roast our insides.”

I had spotted a crock of cider vinegar amongst the supplies I had crawled over and no one objected when I took it out and poured some into the wine skin then added a similar part of the honey that would have gone into the tea. I shook that up then used a dipper to pour drinking water from the barrel on the back of the carriage. I walked back to the creek and set the wine skin where its contents would cool and stood there thinking.

The outrider came up and stood there as well. “Ya aren’t what we expected.”

“I’ve heard that several times already.”

“Doubtless yer have. Mayhap things’ll work out after all.”

Knowing this man could be a friend or an enemy but likely nothing in between I said quietly, “I certainly don’t want to make things worse.”

“Nope. Don’t seem so anyway.”

At that he turned and left and the Captain called me over. “Sit and eat. We’ll leave the curtains up from here on out. If you’ve no objection I will continue to ride with Winnie, or at least until we are on estate lands.”

“Not a problem Captain. You’re bigger than me and can keep them from getting pitched around like loose barrel hoops.”

There was just enough sweetened vinegar that even the wagon driver and outriders could get a swig. I cleaned out the skin and refilled it for later use and the remainder of the ride to the Corman estate was uneventful. More than that though I was grateful not to be included in Francine’s endless nervous monologue of how she missed her aunts and family, of what she had gotten at the market, at how she would miss market days as there were none close by, of wondering when she would get the chance to do it all again, of wondering why her friends did not write more often, and on and on.

It appeared that the Captain and Winnie were so used to it that they had learned to ignore her but she made my ears go numb and she wasn’t even talking to me. What did strike me as passing strange was that not one mention of her husband was made leaving me without clues as to how he fit in with this strange circus troop I found myself in.

 

[sssarawolf]

You must be working like crazy on this, thank you.

 

[debralee]

I'm really liking this. Sure is a different type of storyline. What dreams you must have. !!

 

[Jeepcats 3]

This is riveting, its amazing how your words craft has captured my imagination and drawn me in.
You are artist with words.
Thank you,

Jeepcats3

 

[ReneeT]

Excellent as always; thank you!

 

[Kathy in FL]

Glad everyone is enjoying this. LOL!

----------------------------

Chapter 8

We turned a bend in the road and I nearly lost my breath and my teeth. I hadn’t really considered what they meant when they had called their home an estate. I could only stare and blink. It was Francine who proudly said, “It has been in the family since before the Dark Days and belonged to the Cormans for several generations before that.”

“Good brown gravy,” I muttered. “How many people live here?”

When Francine failed to respond the Captain answered me, “Only a handful these days. There are other families that tend to the fields that are still in production but the homestead … well, not since the plague has there been more than a dozen and these days only half that number.”

Outraged but not exactly sure why I said, “If you really tried you could fit the population of my whole town in the house and the outbuildings.”

But we had gotten close enough at that point that the illusion had begun to wear off. The barn and silo were in disrepair as was nearly every structure within the compound walls including the house itself. The gardens, such as they were, were untended except for the kitchen garden and even that was bedraggled and dying. Vines covered one side of the house, windows and all. At least the chimneys and roof seemed in a good state.

Chickens and geese wandered where they would and I saw a pig using a porch rail to scratch his itchy behind. A dog gave a lackluster bark but no one came out to greet us. The Captain looked at the outrider that had spoken to me and asked sharply, “Do we have a problem Jonah?”

“The lads were likely called to the fields or are off fetching water for Mary. The pump handle broke again and the peddler ain’t been through.”

The Captain looked at Francine and asked, “Did you send the letter to have the fort blacksmith make another handle?”

Francine sighed, “I’m sure it was in that pile of letters I gave to Aunt Muriel. She even mentioned that all Cor needed to do was apply to father and the farm’s blacksmith would be happy to come around and take care of it.”

About that time a woman came around the house riding a donkey that was as short and round as she herself was. “Oh Cap’n. Yers came just in the nick. Got word my youngest is about to give birf and I’m off to see to her for a few weeks. The farm delivered this month’s supplies this morning. She beamed and bowed to Francine and Winnie, saluted the Captain, and then after giving me the evil eye trotted away to the bemusement of all who were left in her dust.

Afraid to know but needing to nonetheless I asked, “Who was that?”

Francine only moaned and claimed to be coming down with a sick headache from the heat and could someone please help her into the house. A young outrider jumped down and rushed to her side and walked her to the porch where she disappeared rather quickly for one so ill.

I would have said something unwise if I hadn’t glanced at Winnie and discovered that she truly was ill. “Captain!”

The Captain and I got Winnie into the house and into a cool, shaded room with doors that opened to catch what breeze there was. It took no time for Winnie to fall asleep and I was left looking at the Captain who stared worriedly at his pale wife. “Is this why Mona said she would confine Winnie to bed?”

He nodded. “Early in our marriage we lost three babes. After the last … well, we thought there would be no more. She’s never gotten this far along before. She’s been working herself sick … and now that blasted woman has taken off on top of everything else.”

He ran his hand through hair that already had as much salt as it did pepper as we stepped out into the hallway and I felt compelled to ask, “Why has Francine let her get like this? Surely … well … well surely …”

He sighed and then gave me a look as if he was deciding something. “Come. My study is over here. Winnie will sleep for a bit and we’ll have some privacy.”

Uh oh.

After he bid me sit he sat at his desk and played with the few things upon it as if he was drawing courage for a battle. “The woman you met was Mary. She is the housekeeper and cook and has been working for the family for over twenty years, since Cor was a babe. She might as well be family and has been treated as such for as long as I’ve known her. She was once quite a force to be reckoned with but as you can see her … talents … have deteriorated with age and time and she really needs to be replaced.”

“So why doesn’t Francine do it?”

He sighed. “She says it isn’t her place but Cor’s. Cor says he doesn’t have time and leaves it up to Francine or Winnie. Winnie won’t do it because she doesn’t have the authority to create a new place for Mary and in reality in the past was never bothered by Mary’s … oddities.”

Trying to find the right words I asked, “There’s problems with the line of authority in this house. Is Francine too afraid of her husband to …”

“No. Yes. Dammit … I suppose I will simply have to explain things. Why I am being left to deal with all of this mess. Why it had to come to this …”

I waited patiently as the Captain calmed himself and wondered how close to the truth Winnie’s version had been. She likely thought she was telling the “unvarnished” truth but I had already seen that Francine had her fooled in at least one respect; she wasn’t near as silly and stupid as she sometimes acted.

Finally the Captain sighed and admitted, “The place is a mess. I’d blame Lee, Cor’s father, if he was here to blame. He left a mound of debt and a weakened leadership upon his death. Lord what a hash this all is. Allow me to start from the beginning, it will make more sense. Winnie told me that Mona and she explained the early history of Kipling.” At my nod he said, “Good. The less said about some of that the better. Some fools seem to want to repeat the mistakes of history rather than learn from it. The troubles for the Corman family started because of his father. Cor’s grandfather was a strong leader and well respected; unfortunately he died too young leaving two young sons and one rather avaricious cousin as their guardian. The cousin died soon after but not before making a mess of the relationship between the estate and the surrounding farms as he tried to demand more of the harvest than was his due. This is the vacuum that Lee grew up in. He had doting grandmothers and aunts and cousins but no male role model strong enough or willing to knock some sense into him when he began to display certain less than constructive personality straights.”

I realized I was to hear a part of the story that Winnie had glossed over. “Lee hated all of the work and effort needed to keep the farms and estate running. It held no interest for him. He was brilliant and truly hated anything and everything that took time away from what he called his experiments. He married only because he was forced to do so by the Council. Winnie’s sister was a nice girl, a lot more like Mona than Winnie however, and no match for Lee’s perfidies. Lee squashed her spirit at every turn and blamed her when the estate began to fail. Lee’s brother loved the estate and therefore Lee made him grovel and beg for every little bit that was needed to keep things running. He was killed when one of the old barns that Lee had refused him the funds to repair collapsed on him. Eventually Lee himself died in a similar accident when one of his experiments backfired and brought a wall down on him. While some had become suspicious the true state of affairs of the estate wasn’t fully known until I came in as guardian. I did what I could but I’m no estate manager and funds were next to nonexistent. When Cor came of age he received a trust from his maternal grandfather and he used that to begin the work that had been delayed for so long. Francine’s dower has also helped but it is a toss up which is needed more to bring the estate back to what it should be … funds or work. He needs funds to finish paying off his father’s debts to the Council members but to get the funds he has to go on long bartering runs which takes him away from the work that needs to be done.”

The Captain looked at me to see if I understood the problem. I nodded and said, “My father called it a catch-22 for some reason. You’re stuck no matter what you do.”

He sighed and nodded. “Yes. Now enters that thing that can turn even the strongest of us into fools; love. Cor has been infatuated with Francine since they were children. Despite his poor prospects her family had no trouble encouraging the match. Winnie said you understood the why of it easily enough without it having to be explained.”

I shrugged. “It was an easy enough question to answer once I asked myself what would the Lathrops gain from such a match and influence and power is something even the people of my town understood. You marry into the right family, the right warrior or craftsman, your life is easier because you have more influence on what goes on around you. With more influence you can make things get done the way that they benefit you most. You get enough influence and enough power and enough of the right friends and you become an almost unbeatable force … or at least you imagine you are.”

The Captain nodded. “Exactly. But what Cor is only now beginning to understand is that love is not a panacea. He truly loves Francine but he is no longer blind to some of her worst failings. And one of those failings is that she is a flibberty jibbet that seems to know more ways to escape the work that needs doing than is seemly in such a sweet looking girl. Even knowing what she is I can’t raise my hand or voice to her. And she still has many fooled, including many of those attached to the estate.”

“Including Winnie.”

Regretfully the Captain agreed. “Including Winnie though I think perhaps that may change with you to compare her to.”

I shrugged. “So will I finally know what purpose brought me into this madhouse?”

Steepling his fingers the Captain gazed at me like I was a puzzle he was still working out. “As Winnie told you, the Lathrops have been pushing Cor to have at least one more wife. Unbeknownst to those of us trying to prevent it they formed a coalition that gave them a majority vote on the issue. Even my brother and his wife were swayed much to my disgust though I think they may be regretting the side they picked.”

“You don’t agree with the practice of multiple wives?”

Walking a political tightrope he answered, “Let us just say that I think any man who wants more than one wife should be watched for signs of mental disorder. My Winnie is enough to keep me busy to the end of my days. More than one would end my days twice as fast. If you add children to that …” He shuddered. I think he meant to be comical but I saw that he was only partially funning.

Baldly I said, “But you let this be done to me.”

The humor completely disappeared from the room. “Fel there was no changing that it was going to happen. Quiet threats were made to cripple Cor’s chances if the Lathrops didn’t get their way. Loans would have been called due, that sort of thing. I have no sons Fel. Cor is like one to me.”

I nodded quietly understanding at last his reasons. “So be it. What’s done is done,” I told him. “But there is more to this or you wouldn’t have told me to come in here where no one else could hear.”

Seriously he looked at me. “Cor will fail if he does not get some help around the estate. He needs someone that can speak with enough authority to force the work to be done and keep it being done in a timely manner and prevent those that would take advantage of his absence. He is a man fully grown and I am no longer his guardian. I cannot speak in his name or for him. That is the rule in Kipling¸ only a man and his wife or an adult child has the authority to order work done on family holdings. Francine either can’t or won’t hold those reins; I haven’t figured which yet. Every time I think I have, something changes my mind. And Cor cannot stay around the estate all the time, he must go out and acquire the funds and goods needed to affect the repairs. Enter a second wife. You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Winnie and I were to … guide you let us say … into doing what needs doing. We would use your authority, your station, and Cor would get the help he needs to rebuild the estate.”

I leaned back in the chair. “Is that why I keep hearing folks say I’m not what they expected?”

He gave a small smile. “Certainly one of the reasons. In truth I am pleased. I never like the idea of manipulating a young woman in such a way. But if you will consider it, see the good it will do …”

Losing a bit of patience I told him, “You are asking me to take the side of a man I have never even met but one that I am completely sure is going to despise me before he even claps eyes on me. Even more, you are asking me to take sides in a feud I have no investment in and no hope of ever winning.”

“Not winning? You think our cause is lost?”

I shook my head. “No. Your plan sounds sensible enough and I might even go so far as to say I’d be a part of it just to kick dust in the nose of the folks that set me up to begin with. But there is only so much satisfaction in that Captain. No matter who wins, I’m going to lose. Or do you really expect me to be happy with this half-life I’m being handed? When the estate becomes profitable … and I’ll even go so far as to say it’s possible to make it so because if my town can eke out an existence in the hell hole of old Saburbia this pre-Dark garden of Eden should easily be made to pull its load. When the estate becomes profitable, I won’t be needed any longer. This Cor you’re so fond of will doubtless be just as embarrassed by me as he is likely to be in the beginning. He’ll hate the idea that someone … some female he never even asked for or wanted … some female that is not his blessed angel Francine … did what he himself could not. I’ll still be just as alone as the day I buried my family.” Whether I wanted it to or not my throat got tight and I was forced to stop talking and look away so he couldn’t see how close to the surface my emotions were.

Quietly the Captain said, “Cor … Cor is not like his father Fel. I can’t deny that he is going to be difficult about this situation. He’ll be at least as difficult as you have been, and likely worse. He’ll see you as a threat to Francine’s position. He may even fight you at every turn. I can’t say for sure just what he will do. But I am confident he will not abandon his responsibilities. And in this life you are one of those responsibilities; he won’t be given a choice on that issue. He is as smart as his father but without the cruelty. He’ll understand once it is all explained to him.”

“I understand now that it has all been explained to me and I’m not brilliant Captain. But understanding still doesn’t make me happy. And it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m being used as a substitute because for whatever reason Francine isn’t doing her job.” A thought struck me. “Isn’t there some kind of hierarchy? A pecking order? Isn’t the first wife the boss wife or something? Won’t that flummox your plan?”

“No. In Kipling the tradition has always been that all wives are equal regardless of age, number of children, or order of marriage.”

“From what I heard practice is different than theory.”

“Do you really see Francine putting up such a fight? We cannot get her to take on her responsibilities now. My guess is she will be more than happy to know she won’t have to do the work and will leave you alone to do as you please.”

My guess is some different. My guess is that Francine is playing a deeper game than they suspect; but I cut my eye teeth on Daphne’s tricks and if I can survive Daphne then I doubt too many others could give me the indigestion she did.

 

[sssarawolf]

Another one yippe, very good.

 

[Hickory7]

Thank You, Kathy. You are pumping this one out much to my delight.

 

[Rabbit]

I can't believe you've started another one.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 9

The Captain said, “There are things you have no choice about Fel. But you can choose whether you regard this place as a prison or whether you use it as an opportunity. Authority in and of itself cannot bring happiness, but satisfaction in a job well done can regardless of the authority you wield. I do not wish to see Cor unhappy. Nor do I want that state for you. I cannot force either one of you to deal with the other in anything beyond necessity. But perhaps … perhaps … a … friendship of sorts can develop. Neither one of you had a choice in this marriage contract, but you do have a choice on the shape it takes as time goes by.”

Easy enough for him to say.

“No promises Captain. But I will say I lost my family to a feud that we did not pick; it is not my intention to start one myself.”

He sighed. “And I suppose that admission is more than I have any right to expect so early in the game.”

Game? This is no game, it is my life. And with that thought I knew that I had to let it go for a while or risk upsetting the whole apple cart by expressing just how angry I really was. I shook myself and said, “Well, with this Mary gone for who knows how long, and Winnie as well … should I hunt up Francine so that we can get started on some food? I’m not even sure who all that needs to be fed.”

The Captain rolled his eyes. “If you expect help from Francine you are sadly mistaken. She is useless in the kitchen. It is one of the reasons why Cor hasn’t wanted to take the time to find a replacement for Mary. Francine is good at entertaining guests when they are quartered at the fort, putting them in a good mood which makes it easier for Cor to get better deals … but anything else …”

Beginning to get irritated again – irritated but resigned – I asked, “Can you at least show me to the kitchen so I can see what there is to work with? And tell me who I should expect to be feeding?”

------------

I would not repeat those first weeks for all the gold in the Headman’s teeth. I worked as hard as I ever had in my life. It was not the work, or its difficulty that bothered me however, but the feeling that the Headman or his ghost was laughing at me and in essence saying that the life I had had under his brutal rule was the only life I would ever have regardless of where I lived it.

I spent nearly a full week on the kitchen and pantries alone. The area could only have been considered clean if you looked at it from a blind man’s perspective. Grease caked the walls and in places even the ceiling. Every surface had a thin slimy layer of the stuff that was so hard to remove I knew it had been there for years. Even the stone floor was discolored by the stuff. I doubtless went through a year’s supply of soap and almost as many scrub brushes just trying to get the worse of the nastiness under control. At least I wasn’t having to do it all by myself.

There were two boys that had been set to fetch and carry for Mary and they had gotten too used to sneaking off or only doing their chores half way. That stopped after I told them if they expected to eat as well as I fed Jonah and the other men that they better expect to work as hard as the men did and then went on to prove my point by serving them gruel at several meals when they would get caught shirking. I wouldn’t starve them, couldn’t bear the idea of it after I had been there myself, but I had to draw the line or they would only ignore me more than they already did at that point.

After the kitchen came the kitchen gardens. Lucky for me Jonah said to just tell him what I wanted done and it would get done. “Jonah, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want anyone to think I believe myself too good to work. My Da didn’t raise me like that and would have tanned my hide had I ever even thought it.”

Jonah was a cranky cuss but for some reason he had decided he liked me. “Sure Gilly, but your Da’s no here. You be Young Cor’s wife for all he ain’t bedded ya yet. Yer’s to say what’s done and I’s to do the doing. That be the order of things around here.”

The order of things. Jonah was fond of the idea that there is an order to things and he let me know that it was high time things were once again orderly. “Thet’s been the problem Gilly. The order ‘as been gone. You be bringing the order back. It makes the estate perky. The hens be laying more. The stallions be studding more. The trees and fields be saying things to the planters they ain’t been sayin’ in years. Even that old hound be getting a little randy with that female pup what come around in heat and I just about be done give up on him for good. Mayhap when young Cor comes back you’ll get him good and randy for Missus Francie … or for yourself … and they’ll be Corman children on the estate again. A passle of them would be a good thought to think on.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh at Jonah’s words or not. I know he believed them, but really? The last thing I wanted to think on was a randy anything much less a randy man I’d never met, especially under the circumstances. I’d met enough randy men to know that it wasn’t necessarily what was under their hat they were thinking with and if what the Captain said was true Cor would need all his thinking skills to survive Francine’s people.

But finally even I could admit things were looking “perky,” or at least perkier than they had been. My Gran and Ma had been fierce about a clean home for Gramp and Da to come home to after a day at the forge. Some of my earliest memories are of my ol’ Gran teaching me the right way to sweep to keep the dust from swirling up and settling on everything and on the best way to wash a dish so that sickness didn’t grow in any cracks.

I started to take each room of the main house and turn them out one at a time. I started at the top in what Francine proudly told me were the nursery and rooms where the helpers slept. I surmised after questioning Winnie that helpers was just another name for servants. There hadn’t been any need for any of the rooms at the top of the house in over a decade and their decay showed.

Francine asked me, “Why do you bother? You shouldn’t waste energy cleaning areas that aren’t going to be used when there are so many other things to do.”

Ugh, like she would know. If she truly had as many sick headaches as she claimed she needed to see a healer immediately … or perhaps just go straight to the undertaker. I shook my head beginning to wonder if perhaps where some things were concerned she was as silly as she played at being. I told her, “All cleaning is useful and in this case it’s needful. Top to bottom instead of bottom to top keeps dirt from getting tracked back through clean areas. If you let mold and mildew get hold in one area it will only spread to others. Vermin hide in uncared for corners and then carry their pestilence across the whole house in the night when no one is looking.” Deciding it was time to push her a bit I told her, “Francine I’ll clean the whole house except for your room and … and Cor’s. That is your place and your responsibility alone.” Before she could start her usual pretty and helpless pout I turned to Winnie and said, “You pick up anything heavier than a fan and I’ll sic the Captain on you. I’ve got no desire to have my heart stop beating watching you go into another faint. I nearly swallowed my tongue last time.”

Winnie rolled her eyes and said, “You did not. I swear you were as calm as you please.”

“Well if you have no care for my feelings the least you could do is have a care for the poor Captain. I swear he’s still stained a bit green around the gills.”

The man in question gave a mock shudder but a look passed between us that he’d square off with Winnie if need be to keep her out from under my feet. She really did make me nervous when she went that awful grey color right before she took a dive to kiss the floor.

Somehow or other Jonah got wind of my plans and before I was finished with the top rooms several women had shown up to give me a hand. It wasn’t quite like having my sisters around as the women were several years older than me but it was still nicer than doing the work all alone. They were wooden at first but by the end the housework I think they at least didn’t think I was some kind of she-devil sent to make their lot in life worse. A few even seemed to approve of me; not all of them but more than one or two.

It was when I finished with the house that I ran into problems. I knew nothing of substance about barns or stables, wine cellars or smokehouses … at least not on the grand scale as they were on the estate. Our smokehouse had been an old barrel set over a smoky fire; our wine cellar the back of a closet where Gramp kept the bottle of mescal the occasional Mexi would trade for a set of new shoes for his horse. What hurt the worst was seeing the sad shape the blacksmith’s hut was in.

I stood there a moment before walking in then couldn’t stop myself from running my hands over the bellows and feeling like crying to see that mice had chewed holes in it. Rusty tools still hung on the wall from even rustier hooks. The anvil had somehow been tipped on its side. I knew there was no way I could do it but I still fell to my knees and tried to right it. It seemed to symbolize everything in my life and the tears began to fall.

“Oh Da, I’m all awash. There’s so much to do and no one to ask about it. The Captain admits he is no estate manager and the last few days he’s seemed so tense with couriers running letters all over the place. I dare not bother him. Winnie is no better and hides in her room and I don’t know what to do for her. Francine … we won’t even go there. Perhaps Jonah will know but I hate to look the fool in his eyes. Oh Da, why’d you have to go and die and leave me to this awful life? You made me stay in those bushes and I had to watch them evil men kill you … and I’m so alone and now I’ll always be. Why couldn’t you have taken me with you?”

I don’t know where it all came from. I hadn’t cried like that in a long, long time. I was just about determined to stop when something fell across my shoulders causing me to near jump out of my skin. I was up and putting my back to a wall and caught between grabbing for the small kitchen knife I had taken to carrying in my apron and brushing the tears from my eyes so I could see proper when a man spoke.

“I was prepared to hate you. Why did you have to go and make that impossible?”

 

[methos]

Wow had to reread parts of that a couple of times. You've woven quite the group of schemes here to keep up with!

 

[Hickory7]

Oh Kathy, please tell me you are writing another chapter. You have me totally enthralled. Thank You.

 

[DustMusher]

Kathy,

Fel is so very real to me -- if.......she could have been me 50 years ago....not her life, but her core values and personality. At least enough so that I can relate and cheer her on. I am going to make sure the three young women here on the ranch read this story - a true role model so far.

I may wait until the story finishes until I give it to the 14 year old - but Fel is a character that our young women need to read. They need a hero who is strong, knowlegable and independent. In other words, a survivor of what ever events have her caught in the whirlwind.

Unfortuantely, at this point in my life and physical limitations, I fear the only role I could play in the movie version would be Mary The skills but not the body to do it. Not overweight, but a physical wreck especially after two heart attacks and the auto accident.

MOAR PLEASE!

DM

 

[Tckaija]

Nope we can no longer be calling you Mother Hen around here

It is time for all of us to recognize your true name - that of Lady Katherine!

Your tales are not mere stories, they are truly wondrous works of Art!

Each new tale is better than the last....

Thank You so very much, for sharing your dreams, with all of us.

 

[Genevieve]

I call her the Story Lady lol

Another great story. As always, you amaze me Kathy.

Thanx!

 

[sssarawolf]

As usual you brought tears to my eyes.

 

[ReneeT]

Your stories are such a joy to read, Kathy; thank you!

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 10

“Hate me? Why? Have we met?” I asked.

“No. No we haven’t met. The fact that you are here and still breathe should be enough.”

I was beginning to have my suspicions which were confirmed when I heard the Captain yell, “Cor!”

I tried to swallow around the desert that had suddenly sprung to existence inside my mouth. All we could do is stare at each other. I don’t know what he saw in my eyes but in his there was a look of barely controlled fury that warred with what look suspiciously like unwilling pity. I didn’t care for the fury and despised the pity.

Before either of us could utter a word however I heard boots clomping down the verandah stairs from the back of the main house and the Captain calling once again, “Cor? Where are you son?”

The man in front of me sighed and answered, “Over here Uncle Rob.”

I started to edge back into the shadows as much as I could and was giving serious consideration to the idea of escaping through the small window opposite the door way. What light had been coming in around the man now leaning on the doorframe was blotted out as the Captain stepped in beside him.

Cautiously he looked and then saw me. I straightened my shoulders. I didn’t like feeling trapped, not that I hadn’t been figuratively trapped in some way for several years, however I refused to reveal my fear but for different reasons for each man. The Captain I respected and didn’t want him to think me weak. And for the other one, I would no more reveal my fear to him than I would to a hungry, hoary beast.

The Captain snapped, “Cor! There is no need for this.”

I could see the man take immediate offense and God help me I don’t know why I had to put my foot in it. “I don’t know what you’re thinking Captain but I just got caught up in memories and the dust of this place. He didn’t do nothin’.”

The man didn’t appreciate it any more than the Captain seemed to believe it. He snapped, “I have a few things to say to you … you …”

The Captain growled, “Her name is Fel boy and there is no need to act like this.”

Losing patience I told the Captain, “I may not like what his words he chooses Captain, but he has the right to say them. Words won’t break me.” Then I turned to the man. “But you raise your hand to me and you’ll be pulling back a nubbin’. You want to spew your venom fine but you’ll be spewing your innards if it is more than that and damn the consequences.” Turning back to the Captain I added, “I don’t need a nursemaid and it’s best just to get it all done and over with.”

Looking at us both as if he were somehow disappointed he said, “I will be with Winnie.”

After he had gotten out of ear shot I mumbled, “I never know whether it is a threat or not when he says that.”

The man said, “You think to make me your allie with such words?”

I shook my head, “No more than I’d believe you’re willing to be my allie in this life.” Sighing I said, “If there is going to be shouting at least let us move further away from the house. I don’t want to upset Winnie; she’s sick enough as it is.”

Squaring his shoulders he said, “Nor do I wish to upset my wife … Francine.”

He was already drawing lines in the sand. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any less but for some reason I had expected someone more like the Captain and it hurt that he so obviously wasn’t. Though why I expected anything else is beyond me. I’d already been told how he would feel and I should have been more suspicious of the comings and goings of the couriers and the Captain’s and Winnie’s dour moods.

We walked silently until we reached a small structure near a stream. I’d taken to coming out here in the hottest part of the day when no one wanted to work and dangling my bare feet from a bridge over the icy spring-fed water.

“How fitting,” the man said with a sneer.

“How so?” I asked.

“As if you didn’t know.”

I didn’t want to antagonize this man. I kept hearing that he wasn’t a hitter but in my experience even a normally calm man could hit if provoked. And this man was already provoked and being honest with myself I knew he had reason to be. No telling what I would do in his boots; I was having enough trouble not chewing the woodwork as I walked made my own footprints.

I asked him, “What do I call you?”

“What?”

I repeated, “What do I call you? I hear people say you go by Cor but you’ve not give me leave to call you anything. People call me Fel.”

Angrily he said, “I am not your friend.” For some reason that struck me funny and I laughed before I thought. Even more angrily he asked, “You find some humor in this?!”

I sighed as all the fun evaporated. “Not really. Just when they first shoved this situation down my throat people kept telling me they weren’t my enemy and that I had nothing to fear from anyone. Now you say you aren’t my friend in a way that says the opposite of what others were trying to convince me of. It’d be nice if you people would make up your minds so I could figure out just how much misery I was going to have to live with for the rest of my life.”

After a few moments of angry pacing the man said, “Cor … just … just call me Cor.” More belligerently he said, “But that’s all you’ll call me. You aren’t my wife.”

“No, no I’m not.”

My response finally got through his fog of anger and penetrated his thick skull. He growled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I agree with you. I’m not another wife to you. I don’t believe in multiple spouses and that sort of thing. You might try and force me to be your whore but I’ll fight you every step of the way no matter how accommodating the Captain and Winnie are trying to convince me to be … accommodating for your own good I might add.”

He sneered, “So you think you can ruin me?”

I shook my head. “You know, when you get done being angry and are ready to think you might find out it doesn’t have to be their way and your life doesn’t have to be ruined … there might just be another solution. I don’t want what has been done to me. I don’t want the future they are trying to force on me. I can’t escape it all though so I’ve been thinking on just how much I might be able to escape. I doubt you’ve got that far yet considering you’ve probably only found out about how people have been planning your life for you.”

A flash of fury had him balling his fists and I set myself for a beating. I didn’t cringe but I got ready to move so that the hits didn’t land too squarely. Instead he surprised me by turning and walking a few feet away, like maybe he didn’t trust himself not to do something that would only make him feel worse than he already did.

“What did they give you to do this to me?”

“To do this to you? I’m the one bought and paid for like some saloon girl. I don’t know who to claim is the pimp … them Lathrops, your precious Council, maybe even the Captain and Winnie; they’ve all had a hand in sticking me where I’m at. Even you.”

“Me?! I don’t want you here! I didn’t even know about you until a few days ago.”

“If you had picked a wife that could …”

He was in my face as quick as a snake and just as quick I knew I’d gone too far and turned to run. But I’d forgotten how much junk was hidden under the leaves that lay all over the ground and when I turned I wrapped my foot in a tree root that had worked its way to the surface. The toes on my bad foot slid between a bend in the root and the ground and as I went down the thin leather of my moccasin finally gave up the ghost. I’d left off padding the area where the little toe was missing and as luck would happen that is exactly the skin the root seemed to attack with as much fury as the man himself was feeling.

I closed my eyes and fought, dividing my strength between my pain and the man. It wasn’t until the man growled, “Will you hold still, you are only making it worse” that I realized it wasn’t a pounding he was trying to give me but help in untangling.

“Don’t touch me. Leave me be. I’ll …” I had to swallow around the bile that had crept up my throat. “I can take care of it myself.”

“A likely story. You’re the color of moldy cheese.”

“You’d know given what I found growing in your pantry t’other week,” I told him, hoping to make him angry enough to back off.

Instead he said, “Hold still or I’ll fetch Mary to sit on you. She’ll be happy to if you’ve been bothering her kitchen.”

“It ain’t her kitchen, it’s yours as the head of this lunatic crew you got. Besides Mary ain’t here. She left the moment we arrived saying something about her daughter giving birth and that she would be seeing to her for I don’t know how long.” Slapping his hand away I added, “And if you mess with my skirts one more time I’m gonna make your head lopsided with whatever I can find to do it with. I may not be strong enough to stop what you’re after but I’m not gonna just give up without a fight.”

With that he sat back and scooted a few feet away. “I wouldn’t touch you if it meant freeing me of all my debts.”

I straightened my skirt that was made from what was left of the leather aprons at Gramp’s smithy and told him, “Good. ‘Cause I’ll never be no man’s willing whore no matter it is supposed to be for the good of your precious family and of Kipling itself.”

I pulled myself up though it hurt to put weight on the blasted foot and limped out of his reach. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of checking to see how much damage I’d done.

“What’d you do to your foot?”

I told him, “It’s none of your concern.”

“It is if I caused it.”

I shook my head, “It’s an old injury. Nothing for you to have to think about.”

He looked me over from head to toe. “You look like something the dog dug up.”

“And you smell like something he’s fond of rolling in. Got any more ways to tell me you find me unsuitable? I’ll let you know when you get around to finding one I haven’t heard before.”

He snorted. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Yeah. Pot meet kettle. You aren’t exactly slow with the insults yourself.”

That stopped him. Instead of taking notice of what I’d just said he asked, “If they aren’t paying you to do this to me why are you here? To torment Francine?”

I shook my head. “The only time I see her is when she comes to eat ‘cause she’s learned I ain’t gonna haul a tray up to her sitting area when it only makes me more work and she won’t even bring her dishes down. And by the way do you know how many dishes I found up in that blasted sitting room when I finally got around to cleaning it? It took me a whole day just to get ‘em all washed properly and we ain’t even gonna discuss the nasties that was growin’ in ‘em when I finally found ‘em. I was having to feed everyone out of trenchers and pots ‘cause I didn’t think you owned any table dishes! I’s never been so embarrassed in my life and it sure did give the village women something to look at too.”

Confusion was beginning to replace anger on his face. “What were the village women doing in Francine’s sitting room? Did she have them in for company?”

“They were company but not the kind you mean. Jonah sent ‘em to help me clean the house.”

“You asked Jonah to send them?”

“Of course I didn’t ask Jonah to send them. I didn’t even know there was a village nearby. He did it on his own because he saw it was going to take me ‘til the Dark Days come back around to get it all done by myself.”

He shook his head and chose not to go down that path. “So, you aren’t being paid and it isn’t about Francine. Just exactly why are you here?”

“I wake up every day asking God the same blasted thing only He never answers. Why don’t you ask Him if you’re so interested. If He let’s you know would you mind passing it along? I’d appreciate it for sure.”

 

[sssarawolf]

Each chapter just leaves me wanting more,lol. Thank you.