the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 14 - Missed something?  Try the index of this story

 

It was the base body that brought Laun around late in the afternoon.  Her stomach remembered being fed the day before, but not enough and was painfully empty.  Her bladder, on the other hand, had not been emptied for most of a day and was stretched to the point where she had a red hot stab of pain as she turned in her sleep.

She woke with a start.

The woman kneeling at the side of the bed looked up from her prayer and called out.  “She’s awake!”

The door opened and several people came in.  Laun still felt the despair that had tried to consume her.  But it was low, in the background and the concern on the faces around her made it push further down into her mind.

“Before you all start with whatever you need to do, I need- ah!”  Laun held her crotch and curled up again.  The pain of her full bladder made it’s self fully known.

Disa caught on and shooed the rest of the people out of the small room.  A chamberpot was still under the bed and Laun was helped to release the pain that was shooting through her lower body.  It was not the most dignified action, but the cessation of the pain was one of the most pleasurable things that Laun remembered ever happening.  Not that she wanted to do it again any time soon as the spasms that followed were almost as painful as the full bladder had been.

Disa was prepared to cover and take the very full chamberpot out of the room, after she tried to tuck Laun back under the covers, but Laun shook her head.  “I am not an invalid.  I need to face what I couldn’t yesterday.”

Laun stood and opened the door.  “Show me.”

It took almost an hour, but Laun was shown where all the bodies had been found in the keep.  She was told about how Lady Hellon and Lord Vami were being buried side by side in the household grounds, but the detail of Lady Hellon’s fingers being cut off so the bandits could get to the rings was left out.  They ended with walking to the graves, most of which still did not have dirt covering the bodies.

Laun stopped and looked at each one of the people.  Remembering.  Naming.  Walking on.

She was still ragged and she caught herself thinking in a sharp spiral several times as she walked beside the graves.  Disa held her hand and heard Laun name each one of those in front of them, marveling, and pitying the Lady at the same time.  When they came to the twin grave of the Lord and Lady Salam-Dir, it looked like Laun was going to collapse again.

Laun stood back up, two hands of dirt in front of her.  She said a silent fare well to her Masters and threw the dirt in at their feet.  Laun turned away and asked to be taken to the hold on Lady Hellon’s Hill.

That was a contrast Laun was not expecting.  From the cold stone and death to the sheer walls and living canopy, there could not have been a more extreme change in where Laun was, and how it affected her.

Yes, bodies had been taken out of the keep and castle, but things for the household’s comfort had, also.  Tables and benches around firepits at the top of the hill was the Great Hall, the gathering place for all the household.  The kitchens were next to the small stream that held the sharp, peppery watercress they had harvested for their previous Lady.  Mats and bedding had been placed among the bushes and trees, a few bedframes brought out and made private with more of the sheer fabric.  A bathing area where one of the copper tubs had been set with ripening berries close at hand.

Wherever they went, the household had life surrounding them on that hill. 

Lucaris was waiting with Orgia and several of the other women in the bathing area as Laun was shown their temporary home.  Hot water, lotions and balms were ready to cleanse her.  Laun had rarely been allowed use of the tubs, usually right before a very important noble was to visit the lands.  The men in the group that had been escorting Laun turned and left, though the area was quite open if anyone actually wanted to watch.

“Pillar isn’t the only one who destroys your clothing, Lady...”  Disa made a clucking sound that rivaled Orgia in her best nagging.

“I wasn’t brought up with it.  It will take me a while.”  Laun’s face dropped and the playfulness she was trying to project faded.  “I don’t know what I was brought up for.”

Orgia was the one to comfort Laun.  “Lady, you were brought up for right now.  And right now, you are going to get a bath!”

If there is such a thing as subdued squealing, the women around Laun were doing just that.  They talked and laughed and carefully undid the bandages that remained on Laun’s healing wounds as Laun was led to a stool next to the copper tub.  A small fire with a kettle on it burned not just for heat but had smoldering, fragrant herbs on it scenting the air and keeping insects away.  Tea was poured for Laun and she took it readily.  Her stomach had been the lesser of the two pains, but alone, it was hard to ignore.

Cleansing ointments that Laun had only seen for the Lady’s bathing were applied to her skin, remaining peeling sunburnt skin scrubbed off and a pleasant scent lingering after it.  Her hair was brushed and combed before a lathering liquid was applied, stripping all the travel and death from her hair.  The warm water that was used to rinse her hair went into the tub and was followed by more clear, hot water and crystals from a jar.

Laun was steadied as she stepped into the tub.  Every little cut and bruise fired up as the salts put in the water did their job and cleansed the skin.  The big wounds were worse, even with protective balms over them.  More warm water was added to the tub as Laun splashed over the side.

Laun’s feet had been a problem since the beginning of her journey.  She lifted them out and looked at them carefully.  Scars were forming around the fading blisters and callus filled out most of the soles of her feet.  She had been able to walk without too much help over the last few days and now she was sure she would be able to walk and dance on her own with the blisters gone.  She wiggled her toes and found that one on her right foot was not moving the same as the others.  Laun touched it and suppressed the reaction to the pain.

The small sucking in of air did not fly by unnoticed.  Lucaris took a firm hold of the foot and saw what was wrong.  “Lady, you will not like this.”

“Like wh-ow!”  Laun tried not to jerk her leg, but it did it on it’s own.

The toe had slightly dislocated at some point and had to be put back in.  Laun was cursing under her breath, but knew that it felt more right, she was not going to admit better, already.  She pulled her leg away from Lucaris and tried to hide under the soapy water.

The late afternoon sun spilled through the trees in the bathing area making the copper tub glow in the light.  Laun was helped out and enjoyed the warm air drying her.  She did not have long to enjoy that feeling as the women around her seemed to descend on her to poke and prod and apply more ointments and lotions and put her into clothing that, if she had been left alone, she would never had thought of putting on.

A small bell was sounded in the tree and fabric hold and the women seemed to rush to finish whatever they were doing to Laun.  In soft slippers, Laun walked up to the tree lined Great Hall along a path of soft grasses and moss.  Some of the women stayed in the bathing area, but most trailed after Lady Laun.

Everyone who was seated stood and many bowed as Laun came through the trees.  Her entourage had put her in a series of water colored tunics that layered and flowed where it wasn’t pulled in with a metallic braid.  Her arms were covered with light layers tied down with more of the metallic braid weaving it’s self up her arms and coming together at a torque at the neck.  Her hair was pinned up with glazed pins that matched the greens and blues of the fabric of the tunics.  A stray, loose curl fell from one side bouncing against her ear as she walked.

Laun did not know what she looked like, and to be honest she probably didn’t care.  But the image she presented to her household right then was what they all needed.  Noble, slightly etherial and open - their leader walking among them.  The cosmetics that had been applied to her exposed skin brought out the tanning under the burn, lightening the bruises and putting color on the skin in a pleasing manner.  Her hair glowed in the torchlight, glinting almost as much as the pins keeping it in place.

A place at a table near one of the firepits was waiting for Laun.  One of the younger servants took her hand and led her to the spot.  He bowed and ran off towards the kitchens.  Laun sat and the rest of the household around the tables also sat.

A succession of platters were passed, different ones starting at different tables.  Laun was so hungry that she ate as everyone around her ate, not waiting to see that everyone else was fed first.  The food was simple, from the stores they had been able to rescue from the castle.  But it was made with skill and love.

Pitchers of herbal tea were also passed, honey and berries sweetening it.  Laun was thirsty and drained a full tankard before she realized it was gone.  She looked at her trencher and the tankard and mentally pushed it to the side.  She looked around at the people of the household and saw how meagre the food really was.  She accepted half a tankard of the sweetened tea and poured for the person next to her, passing it along.

Lady Laun stood and walked from table to table, touching shoulders and seeing the happiness in most of the faces.  Many asked if she was well, Laun just smiling in return.  Laun tried to give attention to all the people there as she walked through the tables.  The fire in the center gave light and warmth into the summer night, lanterns and torches around the outside of the tables keeping the night outside their wooded gathering.  Laun was offered and accepted morsels from different people’s trenchers, sometimes part of the thin bread trenchers themselves.  Some people tried to kiss her hand as she passed among them.  Laun smiled and accepted that, too.

Laun had been to most of the tables when several of the household stood and went to one corner.  Instruments that had been rescued from the keep were placed there and the few musicians of the household started to play.  It was not music to dance to or music to sing along to.  It was music to fill the night, to keep the emptiness from settling in.  Some people stopped talking and listened, most just continued on with their meal.

A cask of cider had been found in the cellars of the castle and it was brought out into the firelight.  The top was broken into, the wood pulled out and a ladle put in.  Those who wanted some of the slightly bubbly stuff went and got it for themselves.

A call for a song came and the musicians complied with a merry tune that most knew.  More of the sweet tea and cider was passed about and the singing brought out voices that made everyone happier.  From singing, some of the dancers stood and asked for music.  They dragged some of the non-dancers out with them and skirts and tunics started to swing dangerously close to the firepits.

Laun leaned against one of the trees that rose up and became the roof of their fabric walled home.  She was still tired and her mind itched as much as her skin did.  Several times people would ask for her to join in the dancing and she declined each time, begging leave for her wounds.  Laun just stood there watching her household, feeling the sturdiness and strength of the old tree at her back.  Her household.

What was happening in front of her, around her, finally made it’s way through her naive, and thick, mind.  There had been no ceremony, no head table.  They all ate as one, drank as one.  The flow of the night was natural, not bound by the ways of the nobles and society.  She did see some of the wardsmen come in out of the night, tap other’s shoulders and take their places.  The sentries were still out there, watching for what might be coming, but not frightening the others more than they already had been.

They all had their places, their duties, but for that night, they celebrated what they did have, not what they didn’t.

Laun caught the conspiratorial air between some of the dancers and a wardsmen.  They came towards Lady Laun and would not take no for an answer when they asked for her to dance.  Both arms had gentle pulling hands dragging her back into the firelight.  The Dance Master seated with the musicians made a quick hand gesture and Laun nodded.

Before the Festival, before the attack, before Bregnan had brought the poison, Laun had been a dancer.  The Dance Master saw the potential in her and they had been working on a new dance routine that had been planned for an upcoming nobles gathering at the Salam-Dir lands.  Laun felt the drumbeat start under the Dance Master’s hand.  She pulled some of the flowing tunics up and tucked it into the metallic braid, freeing her legs.  The slippers came off and her bare feet felt the dirt, the thump of the drum coming up through.

The dance they had worked on for her had been a joyful one, fast and powerful to show off the strength of her legs.  The Dance Master seemed harsh, but he knew she was not up to the peak he had seen earlier in the summer.  He slowed the beat down, less than half-time of what she had practiced to.  The joyful beat became raw, earthy.  The heartbeat under everyone.  The other musicians waited and followed the dancer and drummer into the dance before adding their own to it.

The footwork came to her and she slowed down her movements to match the beat the drummer set.  Wide arcs of her arms, sweeping steps and she was between two of the firepits.  Instead of the jumps in the choreography, she stamped her foot.  Dirt flew from her toes as she kicked out.  Turns that had been to show a lighthearted dancer became sultry as Laun led with her shoulder and her arm flowed behind her, fingertips caressing the air.  The power was still there as Laun leaned back over the firepit, her eyes on the finger tips that went over her head.  Her thighs shook with the effort, the tunics trembling.  She could feel the heat of the coals beneath her, her hair caught in the thermals, dancing on it’s own.

She swung around out of the backbend, her fingertips leading the way.  She caught on someone’s eyes and smiled as she turned, stepping away from the fire.  More of the musicians were playing and Laun could feel the beat quickening.  The joy of the dance was there.  It was just under layers of pain that colored the movements as Laun made her way around the fire.  She reached in for the joy and pulled it out as she moved, the dance healing her inner pains as much as Pillar’s droughts had tried.

Laun could hear people clapping the beat around her.  It had almost gotten up to the speed that she was expecting.  Her feet and arms flowed, the tunics trailing her steps.  Laun heard the double beat and started to spin, her head turning and looking for a point to go back to.  She was tempted to close her eyes and just spin, but she knew she would stumble.  Her eyes finally caught on a face partially in darkness.  She spun around and found him again, the grey eyes intent on her.  Another spin and she saw the shy smile she knew.

The last spin and she dropped to the ground, her arms in the air and the tunics’ skirts spread around her legs.  A cheer went up and into the night.  Laun was helped up by many hands and she felt grateful for the embraces as she stood.  She sat and drank the cider offered.  Her heart raced, but it was good and exhilarating, not from dread.  The joy she portrayed in the dance had flowed up and out of her, enveloping the dancer as well as those who watched.

As she sat and caught her breath, she leaned on the person next to her.  He had an arm around her shoulders and heard the start of a song rumbling in his chest.  Laun did not know who she was with as her eyes were unfocused in the direction of the fire.  It did not matter to her at that moment.  She was content.  She closed her eyes and the song that had picked up filled the night.

One of the women sat at Laun’s feet and tried to put the slippers back on her.  Laun reached out and caught the chin of the servant and said, “Thank you, but no.”  The servant nodded and stayed at Laun’s feet, leaning on her Lady and joining in with the song.

The gathering dwindled after another change in the sentries.  The fires were banked and smudge herbs were thrown on to keep the biting insects at bay.  The cider was decanted into a covered pot and taken to the kitchens, the wood barrel rolled to one side of the Great Hall.  Servants used to cleaning and clearing did so, those used to lifting and shifting moving the tables back from where they had been pushed.  The dancers and women that were still at Laun’s side escorted her to one of the larger mats with pillows and bedding waiting for them.  They took most of their Lady’s clothing off, leaving a thin tunic on her and pulled out the pins that were still hanging in her hair after the dancing.  Laun helped several of the others with their few layers and found that the joy and companionship of the evening kept her warm with the others around her.

The bedding was comfortable enough, but as Laun heard the breathing of the women around her deepen, she could not find sleep.  The leaves above her sighed in the summer breeze.  She could see stars past the faintly lit canopy.  The smell of her sleeping companions mingled with the night flowers in another nearby clearing.  The light cloth over her was soft on her skin, but was a little too much.  It was hot that night.

Laun pushed the cloth down and found some coolness.  Sweat trickled down and it became again too much.  Laun sat up and pulled at the tunic, feeling the stitches on her chest and in her shoulder catch on the light cloth.  With it off, she was finally cool enough to be able to rest.  The twinkling of the stars above were pleasant to watch, as her eyes would not close.

The night before was shrouded in a mist of comfort.  The welcome that was unsaid but had enveloped her when she woke from the nightmare softened the horror.  Without the active conversation, the distractions, some of it was flowing back in through the cracks.  The heat of the bodies around her kept the cold of despair from dragging her under again.

She was still not asleep when she heard two low male voices in the early hours.  They were not exactly arguing, but without walls, the conversation might have been louder than they thought.  There was a hushing sound and then a sound of agreement.  Laun felt as though she should be concerned, but she was not.  Two figures came to the edge of the mat and seemed to be looking for something.

They were looking for someone.  The men were plainly dressed in tunics and breeches, and when they saw the mass of overheated women under the covers, they took the tunics off.  They carefully stepped through the sleeping women in their bare feet and made spaces on either side of Laun.

Having shared his cape often on the journey, Edgar was a familiar scent and presence on Laun’s right.  The other figure was kneeling slightly awkwardly as his arm was bound to his chest and his balance was off.

Laun sat up and put a hand on each of them.  “Is something wrong?”

Even with low tones, Laun’s question woke some of the women around her.  They watched and some of them reached for hidden blades in the bedding.

Edgar’s deep voice thrilled Laun slightly as he said, “No, My Lady.”  He kissed her hand.

Fount on Laun’s left took her other hand and pressed it to his cheek.  “No, My Lady.”

Several of the women subtly moved away from the three and made more room on the mat for them.  Laun laid back and the two men laid down on either side of her, protecting her.  Fount faced her, his good arm under his head.  Edgar also faced her, his hand over hers on her stomach.  Laun felt a trembling in her stomach she did not recognize, but it was good.  The sleep that would not come before now dropped her into pleasant dreams as she felt complete.

Next chapter 16   The first thunderstorm of the season brings important guests