Back to Previous Chapter 31
“...and bloody time, too...” Orgia was directing the removal of most of the bedding from Laun’s sleeping chambers. She had a few plans when it was to be put back in, a more traditional room, with chairs and a table. But that would have to be done when Laun was not around. One of the things Orgia had found about Laun was that the young Lady did know her mind, but sometimes her decisions were not the best. At least from Orgia’s standpoint.
The tapestries were one thing that Laun had specificly asked to be taken down and aired. Orgia wondered what had been taking place that may have led to that, but the chatelaine found that Laun was right to want them aired out. They seemed musty, and with the cold coming soon, it was better to do it now.
Laun came from one of the harvesting houses and saw the tapestries laid out along the bushes by the road. Some of them were being beaten with willow branches, the whippy sticks letting small puffs of dust into the air at each hit. A few of the servants were inspecting the tapestries and making minor repairs as they found gaps and holes. Laun picked up corners of the tapestries, looked at the repair work being done and noted the faded colors of the generations old hangings.
Laun finally found the two she wanted. The Orchard, with the apple trees, the road that seemed to encircle it and the little house. And the Castle with the keep surrounding it, a road coming up to it’s gate. The Lady went to turn the Orchard over and found that it was heavier than the other tapestries. She had to enlist the help of several of the others to fold the Orchard in half. She looked and did not see the holes that she had looked through as a child. She did see some words. They were picked out in slightly different colors from the backing material, odd little embroidered knots in sets of three and four after each word.
They were names. Places. She recognized Hawkwell, the King’s family name. Small lines tacked underneath a few of the names. Laun was kicking herself for she thought she saw a code in front of her, but without her greyworlder, she would have to just leave it alone.
Or... Laun called to one of the people seemingly just standing a few paces away. “Yes, Lady?”
“If you have nothing else to do at the moment, may I have you go and get Gismar for me? And have him bring some of the writing supplies.”
The man nodded, almost bowed and left in a run. Laun was not expecting that. She turned slightly to look at the tapestry’s back again, but kept part of her attention on the men who were there. Why were they there? At least two of them had been getting berated by Edgar the night before.
Well, since they were standing there...
Laun stepped back and noticed that the men started to step back, matching her. She turned and pointed to the tapestry. “May I have you men turn this all the way over for me? I just don’t have the strength...” She felt the false coyness come out of her and she did not like it. But it seemed to work. It took the three of them to turn it and Laun did get a glimpse of the light holes as it was being held up. It was heavy, and she would check that out later. She found the Castle and had them turn that one, too. Laun briefly looked and it, also, had what seemed to be lists.
Laun put her hand lightly on one of the men’s arms. He looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. “Thank you. I want to let you know, all and each of you, that the household would not be able to be here without you. You are important. Not just to the household, to me.” She smiled and two of them smiled back. It was what she was going to get at the moment.
Gismar was following the wardsman at a fast pace, though not as fast as the wardsman had used to find him. He had a bundle in his arms. Laun looked about and found that there was a bench a ways away down the road. She started towards it and the four men followed. She turned and pointed at the bench. “Could you bring that over for Gismar? Our scribe needs a place to work.”
Set in place, the bench was just wide enough for Gismar to straddle and use as a desk. “What do you need?”
Laun pointed at the tapestries. “There is something here, and I am not smart enough to figure it out. If you would, I need you to write down what is on the backs of these tapestries.” Gismar stood and saw the words for the first time. “Make sure you... map it?”
He nodded and started with what he could see from where he was sitting.
Laun saw that the new list master had it under control. She had to go check on the woodshop and see if they had been able to finish repairs on several of the tables that had been left out at Lady Hellon’s Hill during the first thunderstorm. She excused herself after a touch to Gismar’s shoulder and started to walk.
When she paused to look at a tree that needed to still be cut of damage from the storms, she heard the footsteps stop. Laun was trying to figure out if they were just being obvious or failing at being subtle. She did not know their intentions. That hit her slightly cold in the pit of her stomach. Disa still had not told her of her full experience with her false fiancé, Greggory, but there was an underlying fear of men in her maid. Laun thought of her men and their patient, gentle ways. From other stories some of the women told her, men had the penchant to force themselves. Laun knew that the attitudes had slipped, changed. Could they be waiting for a chance?
It was a thought that would not go away. She did not like the feeling of not trusting the people around her. Before the coup, the wardsmen were there to train and protect the household, to know how a household in the nobility ran so they could go back to their own at some point. Was what they were learning something that should not be taught?
Laun went to the tree and picked up a sturdy looking stick from the damage fall on the ground. She made a show of poking at the tree, disturbing a rodent of some sort. Another thing to put on the list of things that had to be done. And soon.
Laun kept the stick and used it as a walking aide. She ignored the men behind her as much as she could. She stopped at a small plot that was being harvested of the early wild grapes, talking with the two who were cutting the just ripened bunches. Laun had read somewhere in the notes that Geralk had found that the main grape arbor was cut to the main vine after harvest, and Laun mentioned that. She also mentioned that the tree she acquired the stick at had some sturdy pieces that could be useful to make a small tripod to support the vines, and protect them from being walked on in the winter. The two workers thanked her and returned the shoulder touches as Laun continued on.
They were still following. There were many people out in the good weather that day. Laun made a halting progress to the woodshop as she stopped and talked to everyone who was working. Sometimes it was a long talk, concerns being brought up and addressed, and sometimes it was little more than a greeting and a touch. A few people shared some of what had just been harvested, making up for the noon meal she had missed while bundling and hanging in the harvest house. And they were still following.
She finally made it to the woodshop and found that many of the tables had been repaired. Laun smiled, not just at the carpenters who had been repairing things for weeks, but at the thought that occurred to her. “Frar? You need the room to work on other projects, right?” The lead carpenter nodded, wood chips coming out of his hair. “I will have these four take this table out for you, if you don’t mind.”
The four hauled not just the table but some benches placed on top of it and followed Laun to the Kitchens. She thought she heard some grumbling, but if they insisted on following her, she was going to put them to use.
Orgia was surprised at the furniture - the carpenters had been putting it off as other things were fixed. They were taken through the kitchens, lifted over some of the larger pots that were on the ground, and into the Great Hall. Orgia went into a reorganizing frenzy with having more tables. There was the room, and they needed it, but every addition changed how the layout worked. Laun helped, taking ends of a bench or holding things that had been left on the tables until it could be put back down.
Things were back in some sort of order, Orgia shooing her staff back into the kitchens. There were just a few people in the large room, some tending to the small day fires, some working on various projects. And then the four men.
She was tired. She had not slept well when she had gotten to sleep, she had been up even before most of the others in the room. She wanted to take a nap. The buzzing behind her eyes also made her aware that if she did not get some extra sleep, her head was going to hurt soon.
Laun started for the sleeping chamber. She heard the footsteps behind her. She stopped, looked up at the banner and heard them also stop. She was not going to shake this large tail.
She had left the broken branch at the woodshop, telling the carpenters of the tree, and the rodent infestation. She did not have that small reassurance in her hand. Laun went through the door into the corridor and just kept walking until she was almost to the door of the sleeping chamber. No one stood outside. She was hoping but knew that a guard would only be there at night. She had to be her own guard.
Laun turned, making the men jump and stand as though they had been caught doing something. “Thank you for your escort today. I wish to have a nap before evening meal.” She could not readily read what flashed across their faces, each one being slightly different. She made a jump in trust, in them and herself, and said, “If you wish to join me, please do.”
Laun turned and the footsteps followed. At the door of the chamber, she turned again and said, “And I wish to rest, so...breeches left on, please.”
She saw at least one face drop, but all of them followed her into the room. She decided to be kind and left her tunic on. She did still wash her feet and hands before poking her head around the anti-chamber door. Most of the bedding had been taken out, but the mats filled with hay and heather were still there. The room seemed bare without all the bedding and tapestries.
Laun took a place near the head of the mats, near the wall. She laid down, her head upon her arm, the wall at her back. Three of the men were down to breeches, one had just taken his boots off. They seemed to space themselves fairly evenly, their heads towards Laun. The scent of the old bedding was a bit dusty, but as Laun moved on the crunchy mat, she smelled sweetgrass and heather and some sort of mint come up. It was pleasant. She was able to close her eyes and heard the breathing deepen in the room.
It seemed like she had just closed them when a bustling sound woke Laun. Orgia’s voice was directing people and made a disappointed noise when she saw the sleeping people in the room.
“I was wondering where you had gotten to, Lady. Well, I need you to move so I can remake this so-called sleeping room.”
The men were up and out within seconds, putting their clothing back on in the hall. One of them was bright red when the staff following Orgia passed them. Laun noticed that flush and made a mental note to approach him at some point about an ‘active’ nap. If he was embarrassed about just being in the same room as she, what would he do if they actually did anything...?
There was still time to check on a few things she had delayed on that day. She had her shadows as she went up the stairs into the tower. She had been dreading going to the room that had been her Master’s library, but Geralk had mentioned that it was not one of the rooms that had been damaged. She had not been in there since they had been back. She had a need to see what was there, to chase the ghosts that still were at the edge of her mind.
Geralk had established himself in that room. His filing and sorting and arranging was evident. More had been brought into the room than Laun remembered from before. An extra table held a few items and the shelf that had been broken was replaced by another one. Laun stood in the middle of the room and took it in. Yes, she had a fleeting moment of sadness. It was not overwhelming and she took it for what it was. She went to the stacks of papers and sorted through them until she found some of the older ones, the ones that were left from the accounts.
It was partial. She could see the torn pages, the burned edges from a small candle fire. She was standing there, looking at them as her men were standing there looking at her. They did not know what to do other than stand there. She was about to make them leave when she noticed one small bound book on the shelf. It had pieces of grey ribbon between several of the pages.
Laun took the book. She did not open it immediately. A guilt came over her when she thought that she would be invading Geralks’ privacy. But she had the curiosity, the need. She opened it and found that it was not what she was expecting.
She recognized the hand of Lady Hellon. It was some sort of journal. It looked like the ribbons had been placed there as markers as Geralk was reading through. Laun noted where it had been on the shelf and turned to leave. She had to go through the men to get out. She spotted a basket with some food items in it that should not have been there. She motioned to one of the men and he picked it up. They all left and went down to the Great Hall.
Laun was reading as she went, missing the opportunity to greet her people along the way. What she was reading was a journal of the last few year’s of Lady Hellon’s life. It started out with a thanks to Vami for the journal below a small poem in, presumably, his hand. It was odd, as Laun had seen him as a leader, a warrior, a host for his noble guests. The tender words in the front of the book were nothing like what she remembered.
There were a few very mundane items starting off in Hellon’s hand. A few notes on household goings-on. Then Laun came to the first of the ribbons. Laun saw her name. It was about the time she had fallen on a step, twisting an ankle. She remembered it well. The Dance Master had made her wear smelly poultices on her swollen foot for a week while still practicing. And there was a set of three dots next to her name.
Onto Chapter 33
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