the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 17

 

The storm had rolled in from the West with a blast of wind and a light show from inside the clouds.  The first lightning to hit the ground had a roll of thunder after it to begin the light and noise that went far into the night.

The rain hit the windows into the green guest room at an angle, carrying small birds and pieces of debris against and past in the wind.  It was loud without the thunder.  When the lightening lit the sky, the thunder shook the Palace.

Laun had put herself back to bed, first to sleep, then to have a warm place to watch the storm from.  She had not been able to luxuriate and watch a storm before.  Once she had woken up for the second time that day, she had just stayed under the covers and watched.

The young servant who had been asleep in the bed even as Falmir had been in the room finally woke in the mid afternoon.  She was next to Laun and had come up out of the bedding with a wide look on her face.  Laun ran a finger along the girls’ cheek and received a shy smile.

“I am not sure you have even been able to sleep that long since you have been in the employ of the Palace.  I hope it was worth it.”

“Lady...  How long have I been asleep?”

“It is past two bells in the afternoon.”

The servant pulled the covers back over her head.  Laun heard her start to sob.  She turned from the light show beyond the window to the servant in the bed next to her.  She pulled back the cover and saw wetness on the girls face and the bedding.

“You were supposed to report back, weren’t you.”  There was a movement of the girl’s head.  “And not just to your servant’s leader or chatelaine or whomever.”  A pause, but another small nod.

Laun reached and found skin under the silk sheet.  There wasn’t any resistance, not even a twitch at the Lady’s touch.  “You will be punished.”  The girl closed her eyes tight and nodded her head again.  Laun put her fingertips on the girls’ face and stroked it lightly.  “I am sorry that I have caused you to be punished.”

The servant’s eyes opened, the water from her eyes almost matching the watery blue in her eyes.  Her voice was small, but Laun could hear her as she said, “Thank you, Lady.”

“There is little I can do, but is there anything you would like before you leave this bed?”

The servant’s eyes went a little wild as she looked from side to side, from Laun to the sheets.  She opened her mouth slightly as if she were to say something but nothing came out.  There was movement under the covers and Laun felt the girls’ hand try to reach her.

The silk sheets warmed quickly wherever a limb was placed.  Laun found herself warming the bedding between the servant’s legs, her own hands and tongue being employed to bring the girl to a moaning climax.  The girl was musky and salty and still smelled of the night before.  Laun had to hold the girl down with her arms around the servant’s legs and hips as she wiggled and squirmed.  It was beautifully exhausting for both of them.

It did take a few minutes for the servant to recover enough to move off the bed.  She dragged on her tabard and slunk out of the room.  Laun did not know who she was going to report to, but she hoped that the information she had was worth whatever the punishment was to be.

Laun was not feeling randy herself, even after having the heated flesh under her manipulation.  It had been a...consolation for the servant.  Laun did not expect to see her again.  Hazalam did come to the edge of the bed and ask if he could be under the covers with her.  She nodded and he slipped in next to her.  It was warm with him behind her, his arm cradling her belly.

She felt that he was aroused, but Laun found she was not interested.  She was warm and watching the storm was lulling her to sleep, even with the rain pounding and the thunder rolling through.  Her back was feeling better with the body behind her, his heat and support relaxing the knots just by his presence.  Laun felt tears come to her eyes and a slight soreness in her throat as the people from her home went through her mind.  Including the one who had been traitorous and had brought her to the Palace.

She had been furious at Silar.  The want of his blood on her hands had been strong on the trip.  But she had promised not to run.  She did not regret not killing him, though planting his own knife at the back of his neck had a bit of poetry to it that Laun liked.  And their last night together at Sand Master’s estate had been full of passion, not just pushed by hatred.  She had forgiven him even before the missive, but her respect for him had started to be replenished.

She missed the knowing hands of Fount and the voice of Edgar.  Their presence in her life all the time ripped from her had torn part of her stability out from her.  She knew she was leaning heavily on her assassin.  She needed someone she could count on, even if she knew that he could kill her at any moment.

He was nuzzling into her neck, his breath warm and not entirely pleasant, but there was little she really could do about it.  His hand was being gentle on her stomach, stroking lightly on her bulging belly.  It occurred to her that he was acting slightly possessive.  Just like every man she seemed to have in her life.

But, Laun thought to herself, if it made her safer for his need to protect what he thought was his, she would deal with it.

Laun let herself drift in and out of sleep for most of the afternoon.  The rain made it difficult for her to really want to get out of the bed, the warm body next to her sealing that feeling.  But it was getting late in the day and she knew that her own body smell was not the best as she just lay there.

A bath was drawn for Laun and she sat in the water, liking the hot water around her as the cold water was coming down from the heavens.  She let herself be dried and then one of the servants used the gifted brush and comb on her hair.  The feeling was both comforting with the rhythmic strokes down her hair and disturbing with how much she was blocking out with the sensation.

The way the confinement in the room and the needs of the body were so easily taken care of was lulling her mind into a place that Laun did not like.  She had spent the entire day in bed.  The last time she had done that, she had been very ill.  She was not ill and she did not want to become so by her inactivity.

No walking on the green that day, possibly not the next day.  She did not want to try to get to the kitchens that late in the day.  The push for the evening meals for all the people she knew were there would be in full swing and that would not be a good time to visit.  And having Falmir with her, or as others would see it, Falmir having her at his side, would be important, if he meant what he had said.

She smiled at her reflection as she thought how she could work the tour of the kitchens.  She was known.  She would not be able to hide who she was with her father next to her.  She might be taken on tour to be introduced to the lower parts of the household, the Palace, as if in preparation to take over household control.  That would be a good way to play it.  And Falmir may or may not see what she was doing.

She was really not sure what she was doing.  But she was still alive and seemed to have the ear of the King.

Laun glared at herself in the mirror for a moment.  He was not King.  Dreng was King.  Falmir was the one who had rebelled, usurped the throne.  Beyond that, he was the one who was currently the head of the Palace, of the Kingdom of the Midlands.  She had to play to that, too.

How much did he trust her?  Laun had to assume not too much.  They were still adversaries.  She did not like the thought of enemy any more.  She was there to point out his weaknesses and use them, if possible.  She was there to keep him off balance.  She was there to make it clear that he had been in the wrong.  Not just because of the coup.

Laun was in the long white dress again, even though it was closer to dinnertime than breakfast.  It was the thing she knew fit and supported her breasts.  Though it was straining and may not last for very much longer.

She paced and read.  She had started on one of the histories of the Midlands.  The lamplight was a little too dim on one side of the room, so she would read in one direction and then look out the window as she walked the other.  There were names she did not recognize and places she did not know mentioned in almost every page.  Meetings and battles and descendants.  But it was information that she needed to know if she was going to seem knowledgeable with anyone she would talk to.

A dinner came in for her at about six bells, a light meal of a small chicken and vegetables.  She had not ordered anything, but she did find that her walking, even though tough on her back, had brought her appetite back up.

She sat and watched the storm between bites, feeding Hazalam at her feet from her fingers as if he were a pet.  She looked at pictures in the plant book and recognized most of the plants without having to read the explanations printed on the pages facing the woodcuts.  When she did go back through and read the descriptions, she learned some things, including why some of the trees around Salam-Dir seemed odd.  They had been brought over from the other continent after some sort of yearly agriculture festival along the coast held by a monastery and given as live largesse to the nobles the next yer.  There were uses of some of the plants that she did not know about until then.

She liked being able to read.

Laun started pacing again after she had finished as much of the chicken as she could.  She read as she could, but as the dark afternoon drifted into black night, she became more and more restless.  Sleeping too much had pushed it so that she was fully awake when she would have been winding down for the night.  And she had little to do.

From one book to another, Laun could not concentrate on anything for too long.  She would pace for a while and read, then set it down and look out the window.  Then another book would be in hand and she would read, perhaps sitting, perhaps pacing again.  She went into the bathing room and looked at all the things that had been brought into the chamber and onto the vanity, playing with some of it.

She heard eleven bells and gave out a small growl.  Hazalam was leaning against the bed, asleep.  She wished to be fully alone, but that was never to happen.  Her energy was coming from somewhere, but she had no place to really put it.

She sat and took the last two pieces of pulp paper and created two messages to be sent out.  They needed to be re-written on better paper and with ink, not the smudgy charcoal.  She asked for the same from one of the servants and started pacing again trying to use up the energy.

The ink that she had been given was an odd bluish color, not the black she was used to.  And the paper she had on her table now was smooth and crisp.  She washed her hands before she started and she wrote out the response messages.

To the man, she made a bland reply, at least she thought it was.  She apologized for not responding immediately as she was at the whim of Falmir.  She asked that he ask Falmir to introduce them, as she did not wish to get him in trouble with his King.

She then wrote out the message she wanted to send to The Lady Myrin.  She tried to make it obvious that Laun was desperate to be able to get out of the room, let alone the Palace.  Falmir was being strict and Laun apologized that she could not attend any gathering not in her own room for the foreseeable future.

She then made a small note to Ithian.

“Ithian-  The flowers were beautiful.  Almost as beautiful as you.  I hope to be able to walk on the green of the Palace after the storm has passed.  The room has been boring and I have read the few books Falmir has lent me.  Please keep me in your thoughts.  Laun”

She liked that.  It said much, but not much.

She was not given envelopes or sealing wax.  She smiled and was glad that she had planned the messages to be very bland so when Falmir sent them out, he would know what she had said, but not be alarmed.  She sent the messages away and tried to read some more.

It was past one bell in the morning and there was a slight commotion at the doorway.  Laun had the storybook in her hand again and put it next to her on the window bench.

The screen almost tipped over as Bregnan forced his way into the room.  There was a lightning strike close and an almost immediate clap of thunder, shaking the glass behind Laun.  Bregnan was looming over Laun and put his weight on the table.  His tunic was unbelted, his feet in only socks.  She could smell stale ale on him and he had a murderous look in his eye.

He slurred as he spat out at her, “You whoring bitch!”

Laun just sat and looked at him.  She knew where the hoof knife had been put and it was on the other side of the wiseman.  She kept her hands in her lap and just looked at Bregnan.

“I got rid of everyone who could have gotten in his way and then YOU come along!”  He picked up one of the books and threw it at Laun.  She deflected it, but the spine of the book would never be the same again as it split open on the floor.

Bregnan straightened up and then stumbled back slightly.  He bumped into two of the male servants, one being Hazalam.  He regained his composure, but as he started to talk again, he started to slide slightly sideways on the painted floor.  “Your Lady was never the pure noble she pretended to be.  Bu’ that was why we trie’ ta get her to our side.  She wouldn’t.  Vami wouldn’t.  That’s why I had to kill ‘em.  They wouldn’a go with the plan.”

He stumbled slightly and the servants finally caught him by the arms to steady him.  Laun raised her hand and they stopped trying to turn him towards the door.  “I can walk, you peasants!  You are all peasants!”  He turned on Laun again, his fist towards her.  “You are a peasant!  And I will kill you like I killed Hellon and Francis and Tressa and all the bitches who have gotten in my way!”

Laun had to speak.  She also wanted to throw up, but she was able to quietly say, “You never would have dared to kill a Hawkwell.”

“Her and her kid!  Make another heir against us?  She had to die.  Like you are going to die!”  He lunged forward and a foot from the other male servant helped him to the floor.

“Get this piece of shit out of my room,” Laun said in a deliberately monotone voice.

Servant on either side, Bregnan was forcibly taken from the green guest room.  He was still swearing and tried to fight the men, but they were not drunk and handled him.  Laun did not know where in the Palace he had his room, if that was where he stayed.  It did not seem to take too long for the men to return. 

The lightning had been thick and Laun had held one of the horse blankets around her while watching it play through the clouds.  She was suddenly cold and feeling very vulnerable.  She looked at the other male servant and made sure she was looking him in the eye when she said, “You may have saved my life.  Thank you.”

His back straightened slightly before he did a curt nod of the head, much more precise than any of the other servants had been.  He went back to behind the screen at the door of the room.  Laun had not seen the man before that night and she made a mental note to see if he was there again.

Hazalam sat at her feet and she stroked his head.  “Thank you also.  I am sorry he woke you.”

“I should not be asleep when you are awake, Lady.”

“You have to sleep some time.  You have not left my side for days.  You need the rest.”

He looked up and had a calm look on his face as he said, “I am rested now.  You and he are protected.”

Laun smiled and stroked the side of his face.  She now knew why he was being so protective.  He thought the baby was his.

The wind was dying down, but the rain still was thick on the glass.  Laun watched the lightning, felt the power as it made the building around her tremble.  It had been almost calming during the day, but after the shock of Bregnan, it was terrifying.

She had to get some rest.  Instead of walking over to the bed, she leaned over and pulled her feet up onto the bench.  Hazalam repositioned one of the horse blankets over her legs and Laun still had the one blanket around her shoulders.  Her back was to the window, her arm her pillow as she closed her eyes and tried to just sleep where she had been sitting.

It did not take much for her to sleep.  She did wake several times through the night as the baby kicked or she needed to move her legs.  It was an exhausted sleep with odd snatches of dreams.  She slept more in the open than if she had been in the bed without a wall at her back, even if that wall was glass.  It was more difficult to approach her without her waking, and Hazalam nodded off in front of her, not resting too much as he was sitting guard for her.

It was not the best place to sleep as far as Laun’s hips were concerned.  She woke to the first watery glow of morning and she was not sure she would be able to move.  Her belly had not been supported by the bench well and it had pulled some thing slightly as she slept.  Her lower back and hips were achy, and as she stretched her legs, her hips screamed at her.

Hazalam was instantly facing her as she moved.  He tried to pull the blanket over her again, but Laun shook her head.  She pushed herself up and with his help was able to stand.  She could feel the tightness in her feet that meant they were very swollen.  Even her knees felt bad that morning.

Hazalam helped her to the privy, turning as she used it but not going more than an arm’s length away.  She needed help getting up from the seat and almost forgot to use the pedal on the floor.

The skirt of the white dress had been helpful as she slept to keep her toes warm with it’s length.  It was not being useful when trying to move about.  Laun was about to pull the dress off when she realized that she needed to be able to use that.  Work around that.

She tried a morning kata there in the bathing room.  She could not use her legs well because of the dress and the pain.  To move she had to either shuffle her feet or use a hand to hold it up.  That presented problems of it’s own.

It was not a full blown form or dance that morning.  She did move and stretch and create a few moves that worked with the confinement of the dress.  Laun used Hazalam a few times to prove to herself that she would be able to block and attack with the moves.

She was warmed up and her body did not hurt as much as she came out and looked at the destruction that had been wroth by the storm the night before.

There were pieces of trees and such on the green below the Palace.  She saw that several of the estates bordering had crews already cleaning and clearing debris and damage.  At least one building seemed to have caught on fire in the night, possibly from a lightning strike.  Several masts were broken or askew in the forest of ships along the river.

The sky still had streamers of clouds, but it looked like it was going to be a very clear day once the weather decided to be so.  There was still a bit of wind blowing leaves and such around.  It would take a day for the greens to dry enough before it would not be muddy to walk on.

Laun tilted her head to the side and thought about that.  It sounded like Lady Hellon had just been in her head.  Should not get muddy.  That sounded like her.  Laun loved the feel of mud on her feet, between her toes.  It was the cleaning of the clothes, keeping it dirt free and in good repair, that was keeping her from pushing to go outside, now that she had access to it.  For an hour.

She needed breeches.  And sandals.  If she was going to be outside, she wanted to have comfortable clothing.  Not fiddly don’t get it stained stuff.

She was out of paper.  She needed a supply of paper and another quill.  She still had the very fine paper, just a few sheets, but just for a message to the laundry, that would not be appropriate.  Perhaps she would be able to see the laundry as well as the kitchens.

That reminded her.  She was hungry.  Her heartburn was not as bad as usual, but she did not want to push the pain.  Unlike others she played with, pain was not something she sought out.

“If I may have something from the kitchens?  I was thinking something different. If there is some of the soured cream and dried fruit, I think that is what I am in the mood for.”  One of the servants nodded and was gone.

Soon, she will have met some of the actual kitchen staff.  She was looking forward to it.

 

Next, Chapter 19.