the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 32

 

Laun read and reread the journal that evening.  It had become easier for her to read and now she was glad of it.  Her writing still left much for her to desire, but the reading made her proud.

Gismar had the backs of the tapestries written out.  He had things underlined that had been underlined.  He had the dots.  And she noticed that her mother’s name was one of the last in the list, with hers next to it, and with the three dots.  Lennie’s had two and a slash.

She had to put the journal to the side.  The information in there was good, a look at the household and guests from another point of view.  But there was something more.  Something that Laun could see the tip of, but could not find which way to pull it out, a mental sliver that was itching in the back of her brain.  The tapestries gave more information, but without knowing what the information really was, it was useless.

The four men were seated around her during the night’s meal watching her read while absently taking food from her trencher.  She wiped her hand on her tunic several times until one of them handed her a cloth.  When she put the journal down, most of the people in the Great Hall had eaten and were now talking about the day, a few trying to start up a round of song.  She had even missed Dreng trying to be pompous over one of his nobles right before Emmy came running up and hit him with a flower, declaring him ‘it’.  Many people could not but laugh for minutes afterwards.

Laun put the book on the table and picked up a tankard that she thought she had drunk from.  It was almost empty, so she made her way through the crowd, stopping and greeting along the way.  The side board had just an herbal infusion available that night, pungent and sweet.  She filled the tankard up and made her way through the people again, trying to greet different people.

She sat, drank most of the liquid and found that she was tired.  The nap had helped with stemming off the headache, but she was tired.  She picked up the book again, opened it and found that her eyes complained about the low light.  It was going to be an early night.  She stuffed the loose paper from Gismer into the back of the journal.  They were threatening to spill out, but Laun had it fairly tight in her hand.

Laun stood and looked around.  Not in the searching every face way she still did every morning, but just a look to see who was there and who was doing what.

She had been with the not so subtle men all day, making her distracted from noticing that both Edgar and Fount were not there.  They still were not there at evening meal.  Laun’s eyes narrowed and shot towards the four.  One of them had been looking directly at her and saw the look.  He wanted to look away, but she had caught him and his eyes went big.

“Y-yes, my lady?”

Laun softened her look and said, “I am awfully tired.  I am going to go see what our wonderful chatelaine did with the room and possibly go to sleep early tonight.”  She stepped back from the bench.  “Again, if you wish to join me, you are welcome.  The same rules apply.”

It took another ten minutes or so to work her way through the Great Hall and to a door out.  Dreng held out his hand as she went past and she took it.  He said in a low tone, “I understand messages are being delivered.  I am proud of you for picking someone to undertake the mission, sweeting.”  He kissed her knuckle and said no more, turning to one of his men and laughing loudly at something being said.

She did have all four of the men a pace away as she left.  Laun thought about the night before and Edgar must have told them to follow her that day, but before she had pissed him off.  He must have told Fount about Geralk and the team, so he hadn’t shown him self, ether.  She had disappointed them.  At least that was what Laun convinced herself of as she made her way down the corridor to the sleeping chamber.

The room was subtly different as Laun entered.  There was a tapestry hanging between the Anti-chamber and the sleeping room, and a chair set in one corner with several folded cloths on the seat.  A few of the bathing ointments were now on the shelf next to the water urn and bowl.  And a mirror.  There hadn’t been a mirror before.

Laun cleaned herself and went down to nothing.  The men went as far as they were allowed and also used the water and cloths, though not the scented oil as Laun had.  Just a drop on her finger to see what it was like was enough to cover all the other scents in the room.  Laun pulled back the tapestry and saw what had changed.

The mat was not as large, but there were a few chairs, a brazier for when it would get cold, and a table to use up the space.  Much more complete of a room.  Laun saw that there were a few things on the table, none of which seemed important at that moment.

The mat was made more like one of the grand bedsteads that the Lord and Lady had in the tower.  It was still on the ground, but there were curtains closer to the bedding, the ones at the foot pulled to the side with elegant cords with huge tassels.  Laun was stunned at the changes.  She stepped through into the chamber when she realized the men behind her were shuffling their bare feet, possibly with impatience.

There was a robe over the back of one of the chairs.  It seemed to be her size.  The fun she was starting to have with clothing was subtle.  She tried the robe on and found that there had been a slight chill that she had been ignoring until it had been blocked.  She sat in the chair and looked at some of the things on the table now that she was closer - little trinkets and a candlestick.  Laun put the book on the table, one of the sheets almost falling to the floor before one of the men caught it.

Laun stood up after a brief stay in the chair and dropped the robe back over the carved back.  She went to the bedding and found that it had some flowers woven into a garland along the beam above.  It smelled slightly of summer in the enclosed area.

The jumble of bedding was now much more organized.  A bolster along the wall kept the loose pillows from being directly on the cold stone. There were layers of linens and quilts that were all aligned with the bed, not pulled this way and that, yet.  And in one of the corners made by the curtains, there were large, square pillows that had been stacked.

Laun immediately thought that the pillows would make a good extension to the bedding.

As she walked into the curtained area, the crunch underfoot was louder.  The new filling in the mats was dry and was letting off a strong scent, mixing and slightly fighting with the oil she had on her skin.  Overwhelming when a headache is hovering in the back of the mind, but Laun stood there and let the experience of the new sleeping chamber wash over her, the pain as well as the pleasure.

She turned and motioned to the men who had just been watching her.  They stepped through the curtains, not quite pushing each other for place, but they did rush.  Laun knelt and pulled back the linens from the center, the others followed her lead.  She was next to men she had not been on the mat with before.  As she relaxed into the new, fresh bedding, she could smell them, even over the other flowery scents.  

The one to her right had been the man to blush in the hall.  She rolled onto her side and looked at him in the shaded lamp light.  Not one of the youngest of the wards, not one of the oldest.  Jaso was from the South of the Midlands, near the ocean and the border with Rosemond.  She remembered when he had come to the household.  It was in Winter, a strange time to have people traveling, and wards did not seem to come other than the middle of summer.  She did not know much more than that.

“Jaso...”

He had been staring at the garland above them.  He turned and looked at Laun.  “Yes, Lady?”

“Please call me Laun.  I was wondering...  What do you miss the most about where you grew up?”

He did not say anything immediately.  She could hear the other men shift around her.  Jaso’s face was in shadow, but she could read the flashes of melancholy and pain.  She moved her hand under the covers and touched him, meaning to comfort, but he jumped slightly.  He kept looking at the ceiling, his face in profile against the curtain lit from outside.

“I apologize, I did not mean to-”

“No, Lad- Laun.  I... I miss everyone so much.  The summers up here are tolerable, but I hate the winters.”  He closed his eyes and Laun could see a wet trail down his face, catching what light there was.  “The winds off the coast would reach us and keep us warm all through the winter.  We grew fruit trees and berries that would never survive up here.  And the beaches...”  He closed his eyes.

Laun waited for him to continue.  When he didn’t, she reached up and wiped the tear from his cheek.  He turned into her hand.  His eyes were glints in the dark, but she could see the pain.  She moved up and pulled him to her, an embrace of comfort with his head on her shoulder.

They did not say any more.  She could feel tears on her chest and a little shake in his breathing.  He moved his arm, brushing up against her leg and he froze.  She found his hand and took it in hers, their clasped hands on his chest.  More tears came out, still silent.

Laun saw the wardsman on the other side of Jaso watching.  She was not sure how to read what was going across his face, but it seemed like he was confused and possibly in pain himself.  She wondered about the other two behind her, but she could not see them.  She could feel the body warmth of the one directly behind her and he seemed to be slightly fidgety.

Laun blocked that out and concentrated on Jaso.  She started to stroke his hair lightly as he settled into the arm around his shoulders.  She remembered the nights when she was upset and she crawled into bed with her mother.  Her voice would relax her, push whatever it was out.  The thought of that voice made her warm inside.

Her voice was low, slow and slightly breathy.  “Those beaches must be beautiful.  The waves coming up, the warm wind.  I have never seen a beach that was not along a river.  It must be so different, not being able to see the other shore.  Not knowing if there is another shore.”  She turned so that her words and breath were going onto his forehead.  “Walking in the sand, finding shells and things washed up on the shore.  The wind being sweet and clean, pushing you along as you are walking.  Birds overhead floating on the wind, noisy over the sound of the waves and the wind.  The wind must make the grasses hiss as it goes through them.  All those noises as you are walking along the shore.  The sun warming the sand that is around your feet, under your toes.”

Laun could feel his breathing start to change.  No more tears were falling to her chest.  The tension she could feel in his neck was starting to loosen, his head relaxing into her shoulder more.  She did not move closer, but with his body letting some of the tension go, he started to turn into her and there was more skin to skin.

“Look at the color of the sand.  It is unique to that beach.  Reach down and take some in your hand.  Feel it go through your fingers.”  Jaso’s hand clenched slightly in hers and then relaxed.  “Grain by grain by grain.... It has a feeling that only that beach has...”

There was a gaspy sob and his breathing deepened.  “Remember that feeling.  That beach is still there.  You can walk on it, your toes warm in the sand, the wind in your face.  It is there.”  Laun just held him and breathed warmly onto his forehead.  She stroked his hair lightly and she felt his body relax as he fell asleep.

The breathing from the other men were also deeper, telling her that they had also relaxed.  They were going to be asleep soon. 

Laun’s own head was racing.  She had so many things in her mind that wanted attention.  From the look of the sky that evening through the glass of the window to the need to count the bushels of apples that were put in sawdust in the cold cellar.  The need to know where her two favorite men were, what they were doing.  Remembering that she needed to connect with a few of the musicians about a possible birthday gathering for Dreng.  The dash behind his name from the tapestry list, and the possible meanings of that list.  The connections to the journal.

Laun tried to stop the slide of information and questions going through her head.  She moved slightly, bringing the arm that was still under Jaso’s shoulders in a more comfortable position.  Her head rested on his.  She could feel his breath warm on her skin, the heat of the out, the slight chill of the in.  His hand twitched under hers.  His hair smelled of outside and sweat.

She concentrated on matching her breaths to the man on her shoulder.  Thoughts would try to pop up, disturbing her rhythm.  She pushed them down, thinking of walking on the grounds.  But then she would think of things that needed to be done.  She went through many visualizations trying to settle her mind.  The pain behind her eyes was growing with the lack of sleep.

It was pure mental exhaustion that finally took her over.  She started to dream fitfully about running away from something.  She could not see it.  She could feel it.  She could hear it.  But it would not show it’s self.  She ran in her dreams through the night.

 

See what happens when she wakes in Chapter 34.