Post by Dame Aegraine lePower-Zurban on Nov 19, 2010 1:23:27 GMT -6
Shell of Security
The months began to tick away as she waited for the arrival of her first child and of late and Aegraine had recovered from the dietary upsets which plagued her. Today she was thin but in good health, with a light appetite but in all doing well. Each morning she awoke early to breakfast and then a good run out among the Lake Manor farms, the huge shaggy dogs Beo and Wulf trotted along for company. A newly fitted laced jacket and short skirt kept her warm as well as new boots more suited to her now not so swollen ankles.
“There she go again, the Lady. “ Farm wife Gerda waved a shirt she was hanging up to dry in the direction of Ae and her two coach dogs, as they ran by, with Aegraine responding with a friendly wave and smile. “This is why we got good harvest this year; the land goes where them in the castle goes. Good times are a comin’.” Gerda continued her tasks and chatting with Mary Dunn, as they did laundry together.
“Aye. There be an heir to the manor and there be nothing more secure that knowing it is him training the next in line. A good life we got. Him is a fair and good man.” Mary summed up the general sentiments of the workers on the farms and inside Lake Manor. Good times were getting even better.
After a light lunch, the lady of the manor did some paperwork, planned her writings for the day as she was detailing a series of how to booklets for engineering, and then retired to her room to sew and most times nap. Her energy was at low ebb if there was not a mid-day rest; keeping off her feet did help her puffy ankles be less so. By the time Dmitrii came home from Turas Lan, she was rested and no sight of her current exhaustion discernable.
Today, Aegraine sat in the window seat, overlooking the gardens and daydreamed, the needle threaded and in hand but this day her embroidery picture of Lake Manor, complete with silvery thread highlights in the lake surrounding her home, took second place. She was tired physically, but not in thought. Today she mulled over what had been her life, both recently and in the past.
“Here I am, sitting like a plum in a rich pudding.” That had to make her smile. “There is nothing in this life that I am wanting; the world is good . It is being like wrapped in a thick sugary shell of security, I am. Home and work and a husband I love, good health and soon enough, a child.” All the other words she pronounced aloud to herself, sliding back into comfort of six cushions and a knit blanket but the last word she whispered in slow silvery cold sound, into the air for the first time she said it aloud. She was safe, loved and what was there to shake this picture out of focus? Here in her shell of security.
It was there, in spite of being wrapped thick with love and respect, honor and work she loved at her fingertips. A splinter pricked at her conscience. One note in a symphony gone wrong. “I do not deserve to have a child. “ That she said to the empty room, where none could hear her. She knew why. This was something she had yet to reveal to Dmitrii and perhaps it was a good idea not to tell him.
“ I will talk to the baby. Child, Your Mother was a young and foolish girl, at one time. I was fifteen and my Father sent me off to fostering with his old friend Carlos Incanto, yes I was trained by the famous offensive siege master, just as were my older half brothers, some twenty years before me.” She slid into a more comfortable place and placing her hand upon the shape of the unborn, began to tell one still in fetus form this story.
“Incanto is the finest, if I must send you off to foster, Aegaine. You need to learn the ways of those who wage siege if you are going to make the best defense engineer, as your Mother would have you be.” Her Father, the great mind Martin lePower had a career planned for his youngest child and this was but a part of her training. “I am sending Choldie with you, a lady needs a woman servant with her in Incanto’s entourage, it is proper, naye, he requires you to have chaperone and another female at your side.” He looked over to his young daughter, riding along side of him, to meet Carlos. “Now, do not look so, Ae. Your Mother will heal, she was struck with lightening true, but the healers can do wonders these days. Upon your return, you shall see.” They rode until the next four day until meeting the Incanto, at the docking of his main ship.
Carlos Incanto had been an imposing figure of a man twenty, thirty years ago but alas time passed. His dark hair had gray roots to it where the black walnut dye ought to have been reapplied. His straight dignified stance was aided by a walking stick, his face always leathery had rivlet runs of wrinkles everywere on its sun tanned surface. He smiled a wide toothy grin and called out to Martin,”I see you have brought me a new little one. Slight built for a lad, and that long hair has to go.” Had Incanto’s vision diminished also? He was looking right at me, clearly I am a girl, right?
“Tis the girl, Aurilla’s and my daughter, Carlos.” Martin slapped his old buddy on the shoulder and his hand hit the soft cotton of a heavily padded coat. “You jest! Always the kidder.” He laughed and the elderly man joined in. “I have brought the female servant for her, just as we agreed. Come forward, Choldie. Don’t be shy, gal. You and Carlos will get acquainted soon enough.” Did Martin recall that his old friend liked the ladies, or he did at one time. Time takes some precious powers from a man, a fact Mart was yet to learn.
That was how it began, introduction and a signing of fostering documents and I was bound as a child to the Incanto, to teach and guide for three very long years. The training had done wonders for my half brothers, all four of them had been instructed by Carlos, so it was I was given the same shall we say, treatment. But it was not the same Incanto who took Alan, Dean, Matthew and Francis and made them superior siege defense leaders. This was an older Carlos now and one who not only slipped in his skills but slid right on into being something other than he was before. He was mad. Totally insane.
It did not take an hour before I discovered that something was extremely wrong with the great Incanto. Aboard the ship, out a sea, my father less than a dot on the horizion, he began giving orders that Chlodie be tied to a leash and I was to lead her like a dog, trot her about the deck. When I refused, he got a little whip and began to hit. He struck Chlodie, not me, for my “disobedience.”
“This is how it is to be. You will do as I say or the servant gets it. Understand. Good. No more pouty looks, Girlie. “ That was how he refered to me, never pronouncing my name. When we joined the rest of the troops, going off first to his home then out to a battle site, I found out the other fostered ones were all male, all sporting a variety of bruises and abrasions. Some cowed away from Incanto, others spat at the ground after he walked past, and could not see what they did. I did not see the respect I was told by my kin was what all his students had for the Incanto, just fear. Loathing. And soon I knew more about this than I wanted to know.
His home had an entrance over a moat across a drawbridge and opened via two oak doors, gates I was not going to touch when I saw them. Nailed over the oak were layer upon of hides and skins of both human and animals killed and staked up for what reason, unsaid. The great hall was a cavernous arched room, large a church with a long trestle table running its length. Sixty heavily carved chairs there were, with each one as if a different hideous monster animal was lurking over the back, ready to devour the diner. “Be seated, gentlemen.” He waved a welcoming arm to the dozens of other fostered students and they crept into their places, as if there was a punishment to be meted rather than rations. “This is her, the Girlie. “He pointed to me and beckoned. “Girls are not seated with the students, so if you want to dine, you come and sit on my lap. Like a good little girl.” Chlodie was still on the leash and he made her sit on the floor, with the coach dogs and I was to feed her from there.
“I do not sit on a man’s lap, Sir.” The young me folded her arms and glared at the master, the fostering ruler of my next three years. “I want a chair like any other student.” Then I saw Carlos tighten the leash collar he had on Chodie until she was choking. “Did I not tell you, the female dog suffers your disobedience? Come and sit. At this rate, your servant will not last long.”
It was horrible to see the serving lady who was my constant companion and teacher of the ways of the world clawing at the rope about her neck, for her life because I did not sit on the teacher’s lap at dinner, so cornered, I did as I was bid. That set the pattern of three years of bullying and abuse, not physical abuse but nonetheless, I was doing things I would rather not. As were the other students, but their punishing blows were not passed out to a servant. They were beaten on a regular basis and worse, I imagined from their looks.
Before long I was kept in the Incanto’s chambers, in my own sleeping area but he had my servant at the foot of his bed, and what he thought to do with or to me, he used her. Who was there to tell that was not in his employ or as afraid of Carlos as I was? Soon enough the company was on the march to its first siege. The sights I saw on those trips, I would spare even an adult, let alone a little unborn like you. But it is not sights that concern me, no, rather some of the things I did or orders of my Foster Father, the not so good Carlos Incanto.
A long story, but in due time I made the mistake of speaking up to the Incanto about the condition of my outfits, for the long series of wars had wrecked havoc with my old uniforms from back home, which unlike the rest of the students, had long ago been replaced with Incanto’s colors. Black and blue.
“I need to have some clothing made, Incanto. I cannot go into the marketplace in these.” I held out my arms, the sleeves far too short for the three years taller I had grown; my trousers left a gap between their hems and my boot tops, as well. Yes, there was yet some pride in how I looked. He nodded and the next day I was meeting the tailor for new clothing. “You will have a uniform black kid leather with silver trim, a cloak as rich as my own. New boots and a horse. Nothing is good for my daughter, Girlie. Nothing. “ The grin he gave me was not quite right. “I have found you a mate and one day I will get me grandchildren. “ Who did he mean? “I am too young for such, Sir.” Which was true, me being a very late bloomer.”
That question of mine cost Chlodie her life. They said she ran off into the bog, but that is not true. She was carried out there and buried in the Worden Wood Bog, alive. I was sentenced to watch, tied so I might not cause trouble.
“You will be next, if I hear so much as a wrong word. We will reside in a town for winter and you may roam the place as you will.” That much was true. The necklace he had bolted on me was a collar of one enslaved, so I did only roam so far and no more than he dictated. One by one, in that town his students vanished, run off or slain in his fits of anger. The servants dwindled until there was only one old woman with poor vision. The hall was filthy; there was so little money that Incanto burned the sixty chairs, until there was only his one left. It was then he got a commission to wage a siege, to lead the troops of another general into battle.
“Here, let me dress you in finery Daughter, we are going to the big one. When it is over and I am paid well, things will go better. I will find you a mate and you will get me grandchildren; you owe me that much, Girlie.” I did have lovely uniforms, all in black and silver. The recent years had altered my way of thinking and I was doing what I thought I had no choice in doing. I had given up all hope of seeing my family and home again. It was as if I were walking in a bad dream, a nightmare there was no waking from. I did as I was told.”
It was at the long siege of Lairmont that I got to take my knowledge of offensive siege work and make it sing. To direct the positions of the towers, aiming of trebuchet – I was given free rein and Incanto sat there on his war horse, glassy eyed, the man had such poor vision that he had little idea what I was doing. There we sat, on dark horses, dressed in black leather, our red long cloaks flapping in the winds that combed through the long grasses about that hilltop and it was grand. I felt like a victor, me myself, leading the troops that Incanto was paid to head.
It was over at long last and I stayed back from the mandatory looting and slaughter that was to follow a win. “No, Daughter you need come with me. Let the enemy see that a Girlie beat them to this end. Go!” I did, for it was as if I had turned into someone else, I was as Carlos’ daughter and I ran through the streets and on into the great castle hall. The rooms were eerily empty. I went into the cellar, where it is theorized folks hide during times of distress. There were no occupants. There was a door to a lower level and I did enter stepping over a body here and there, stabbing each with my sharp sword to make certain they were dead. All dead. Old men and women, children but no babies. Where were the toddlers and infants? Unattended? I had to find them, for young would bring a price in the markets, thinking like Carlos at that moment. There was the smell of dampness, water down in a deep part of the level and I did find a trap door opening to an oblette. This had to be where they hid their young. I lowered myself down, standing knee deep in water, with things floating in it. What was this? A toy? A doll? I picked up one of them. It was a baby. The people had been so desperate that the evil Incanto’s daughter get to their children, they had slain their own chidren, their babies to save them from a monster like me. I was a monster. I have the lives of all those little innocent children on my soul, scratched in by the devil’s own claw. They had to haul me up to the surface, I was trying to check and see if there was even one baby alive, but all were dead. Dead before the castle was taken, gone when there was no hope. I caused that. I ran that siege. I have killed by order and by my hand and now by reputation. I am a monster. I do not deserve a child. “
Ae sat in the window seat staring out at the leafless trees, quiet now that she admitted what her main fear was, that she was undeserving of the life to be, her own unborn one. She had gone back home to Ireland and changed her ways, but the memory of that time had not left. It stuck unseen like shard of glass stuck in her skin, sharp, unseen yet continuing to give pain.
There was no mistake. At thatvery moment the child kicked. The first time she felt it, her hand right over where the first kick happened. The sun rays slipped through the gray clouds and it was then that Aegrane knew the Almighty did know she was truly sorry, she had changed her ways and tried to be a better person. The life within, so precious and undeserved was the Almighty’s sign. She had done wrong but was forgiven. The Almighty gives gifts for a reason. Aegraine did not question the Almighty’s decision. She slept there on the window seat until that eve when Dmitrii returned from Turas Lan, a peaceful sleep at long last. [/color]
Nov. 1333
The months began to tick away as she waited for the arrival of her first child and of late and Aegraine had recovered from the dietary upsets which plagued her. Today she was thin but in good health, with a light appetite but in all doing well. Each morning she awoke early to breakfast and then a good run out among the Lake Manor farms, the huge shaggy dogs Beo and Wulf trotted along for company. A newly fitted laced jacket and short skirt kept her warm as well as new boots more suited to her now not so swollen ankles.
“There she go again, the Lady. “ Farm wife Gerda waved a shirt she was hanging up to dry in the direction of Ae and her two coach dogs, as they ran by, with Aegraine responding with a friendly wave and smile. “This is why we got good harvest this year; the land goes where them in the castle goes. Good times are a comin’.” Gerda continued her tasks and chatting with Mary Dunn, as they did laundry together.
“Aye. There be an heir to the manor and there be nothing more secure that knowing it is him training the next in line. A good life we got. Him is a fair and good man.” Mary summed up the general sentiments of the workers on the farms and inside Lake Manor. Good times were getting even better.
After a light lunch, the lady of the manor did some paperwork, planned her writings for the day as she was detailing a series of how to booklets for engineering, and then retired to her room to sew and most times nap. Her energy was at low ebb if there was not a mid-day rest; keeping off her feet did help her puffy ankles be less so. By the time Dmitrii came home from Turas Lan, she was rested and no sight of her current exhaustion discernable.
Today, Aegraine sat in the window seat, overlooking the gardens and daydreamed, the needle threaded and in hand but this day her embroidery picture of Lake Manor, complete with silvery thread highlights in the lake surrounding her home, took second place. She was tired physically, but not in thought. Today she mulled over what had been her life, both recently and in the past.
“Here I am, sitting like a plum in a rich pudding.” That had to make her smile. “There is nothing in this life that I am wanting; the world is good . It is being like wrapped in a thick sugary shell of security, I am. Home and work and a husband I love, good health and soon enough, a child.” All the other words she pronounced aloud to herself, sliding back into comfort of six cushions and a knit blanket but the last word she whispered in slow silvery cold sound, into the air for the first time she said it aloud. She was safe, loved and what was there to shake this picture out of focus? Here in her shell of security.
It was there, in spite of being wrapped thick with love and respect, honor and work she loved at her fingertips. A splinter pricked at her conscience. One note in a symphony gone wrong. “I do not deserve to have a child. “ That she said to the empty room, where none could hear her. She knew why. This was something she had yet to reveal to Dmitrii and perhaps it was a good idea not to tell him.
“ I will talk to the baby. Child, Your Mother was a young and foolish girl, at one time. I was fifteen and my Father sent me off to fostering with his old friend Carlos Incanto, yes I was trained by the famous offensive siege master, just as were my older half brothers, some twenty years before me.” She slid into a more comfortable place and placing her hand upon the shape of the unborn, began to tell one still in fetus form this story.
“Incanto is the finest, if I must send you off to foster, Aegaine. You need to learn the ways of those who wage siege if you are going to make the best defense engineer, as your Mother would have you be.” Her Father, the great mind Martin lePower had a career planned for his youngest child and this was but a part of her training. “I am sending Choldie with you, a lady needs a woman servant with her in Incanto’s entourage, it is proper, naye, he requires you to have chaperone and another female at your side.” He looked over to his young daughter, riding along side of him, to meet Carlos. “Now, do not look so, Ae. Your Mother will heal, she was struck with lightening true, but the healers can do wonders these days. Upon your return, you shall see.” They rode until the next four day until meeting the Incanto, at the docking of his main ship.
Carlos Incanto had been an imposing figure of a man twenty, thirty years ago but alas time passed. His dark hair had gray roots to it where the black walnut dye ought to have been reapplied. His straight dignified stance was aided by a walking stick, his face always leathery had rivlet runs of wrinkles everywere on its sun tanned surface. He smiled a wide toothy grin and called out to Martin,”I see you have brought me a new little one. Slight built for a lad, and that long hair has to go.” Had Incanto’s vision diminished also? He was looking right at me, clearly I am a girl, right?
“Tis the girl, Aurilla’s and my daughter, Carlos.” Martin slapped his old buddy on the shoulder and his hand hit the soft cotton of a heavily padded coat. “You jest! Always the kidder.” He laughed and the elderly man joined in. “I have brought the female servant for her, just as we agreed. Come forward, Choldie. Don’t be shy, gal. You and Carlos will get acquainted soon enough.” Did Martin recall that his old friend liked the ladies, or he did at one time. Time takes some precious powers from a man, a fact Mart was yet to learn.
That was how it began, introduction and a signing of fostering documents and I was bound as a child to the Incanto, to teach and guide for three very long years. The training had done wonders for my half brothers, all four of them had been instructed by Carlos, so it was I was given the same shall we say, treatment. But it was not the same Incanto who took Alan, Dean, Matthew and Francis and made them superior siege defense leaders. This was an older Carlos now and one who not only slipped in his skills but slid right on into being something other than he was before. He was mad. Totally insane.
It did not take an hour before I discovered that something was extremely wrong with the great Incanto. Aboard the ship, out a sea, my father less than a dot on the horizion, he began giving orders that Chlodie be tied to a leash and I was to lead her like a dog, trot her about the deck. When I refused, he got a little whip and began to hit. He struck Chlodie, not me, for my “disobedience.”
“This is how it is to be. You will do as I say or the servant gets it. Understand. Good. No more pouty looks, Girlie. “ That was how he refered to me, never pronouncing my name. When we joined the rest of the troops, going off first to his home then out to a battle site, I found out the other fostered ones were all male, all sporting a variety of bruises and abrasions. Some cowed away from Incanto, others spat at the ground after he walked past, and could not see what they did. I did not see the respect I was told by my kin was what all his students had for the Incanto, just fear. Loathing. And soon I knew more about this than I wanted to know.
His home had an entrance over a moat across a drawbridge and opened via two oak doors, gates I was not going to touch when I saw them. Nailed over the oak were layer upon of hides and skins of both human and animals killed and staked up for what reason, unsaid. The great hall was a cavernous arched room, large a church with a long trestle table running its length. Sixty heavily carved chairs there were, with each one as if a different hideous monster animal was lurking over the back, ready to devour the diner. “Be seated, gentlemen.” He waved a welcoming arm to the dozens of other fostered students and they crept into their places, as if there was a punishment to be meted rather than rations. “This is her, the Girlie. “He pointed to me and beckoned. “Girls are not seated with the students, so if you want to dine, you come and sit on my lap. Like a good little girl.” Chlodie was still on the leash and he made her sit on the floor, with the coach dogs and I was to feed her from there.
“I do not sit on a man’s lap, Sir.” The young me folded her arms and glared at the master, the fostering ruler of my next three years. “I want a chair like any other student.” Then I saw Carlos tighten the leash collar he had on Chodie until she was choking. “Did I not tell you, the female dog suffers your disobedience? Come and sit. At this rate, your servant will not last long.”
It was horrible to see the serving lady who was my constant companion and teacher of the ways of the world clawing at the rope about her neck, for her life because I did not sit on the teacher’s lap at dinner, so cornered, I did as I was bid. That set the pattern of three years of bullying and abuse, not physical abuse but nonetheless, I was doing things I would rather not. As were the other students, but their punishing blows were not passed out to a servant. They were beaten on a regular basis and worse, I imagined from their looks.
Before long I was kept in the Incanto’s chambers, in my own sleeping area but he had my servant at the foot of his bed, and what he thought to do with or to me, he used her. Who was there to tell that was not in his employ or as afraid of Carlos as I was? Soon enough the company was on the march to its first siege. The sights I saw on those trips, I would spare even an adult, let alone a little unborn like you. But it is not sights that concern me, no, rather some of the things I did or orders of my Foster Father, the not so good Carlos Incanto.
A long story, but in due time I made the mistake of speaking up to the Incanto about the condition of my outfits, for the long series of wars had wrecked havoc with my old uniforms from back home, which unlike the rest of the students, had long ago been replaced with Incanto’s colors. Black and blue.
“I need to have some clothing made, Incanto. I cannot go into the marketplace in these.” I held out my arms, the sleeves far too short for the three years taller I had grown; my trousers left a gap between their hems and my boot tops, as well. Yes, there was yet some pride in how I looked. He nodded and the next day I was meeting the tailor for new clothing. “You will have a uniform black kid leather with silver trim, a cloak as rich as my own. New boots and a horse. Nothing is good for my daughter, Girlie. Nothing. “ The grin he gave me was not quite right. “I have found you a mate and one day I will get me grandchildren. “ Who did he mean? “I am too young for such, Sir.” Which was true, me being a very late bloomer.”
That question of mine cost Chlodie her life. They said she ran off into the bog, but that is not true. She was carried out there and buried in the Worden Wood Bog, alive. I was sentenced to watch, tied so I might not cause trouble.
“You will be next, if I hear so much as a wrong word. We will reside in a town for winter and you may roam the place as you will.” That much was true. The necklace he had bolted on me was a collar of one enslaved, so I did only roam so far and no more than he dictated. One by one, in that town his students vanished, run off or slain in his fits of anger. The servants dwindled until there was only one old woman with poor vision. The hall was filthy; there was so little money that Incanto burned the sixty chairs, until there was only his one left. It was then he got a commission to wage a siege, to lead the troops of another general into battle.
“Here, let me dress you in finery Daughter, we are going to the big one. When it is over and I am paid well, things will go better. I will find you a mate and you will get me grandchildren; you owe me that much, Girlie.” I did have lovely uniforms, all in black and silver. The recent years had altered my way of thinking and I was doing what I thought I had no choice in doing. I had given up all hope of seeing my family and home again. It was as if I were walking in a bad dream, a nightmare there was no waking from. I did as I was told.”
It was at the long siege of Lairmont that I got to take my knowledge of offensive siege work and make it sing. To direct the positions of the towers, aiming of trebuchet – I was given free rein and Incanto sat there on his war horse, glassy eyed, the man had such poor vision that he had little idea what I was doing. There we sat, on dark horses, dressed in black leather, our red long cloaks flapping in the winds that combed through the long grasses about that hilltop and it was grand. I felt like a victor, me myself, leading the troops that Incanto was paid to head.
It was over at long last and I stayed back from the mandatory looting and slaughter that was to follow a win. “No, Daughter you need come with me. Let the enemy see that a Girlie beat them to this end. Go!” I did, for it was as if I had turned into someone else, I was as Carlos’ daughter and I ran through the streets and on into the great castle hall. The rooms were eerily empty. I went into the cellar, where it is theorized folks hide during times of distress. There were no occupants. There was a door to a lower level and I did enter stepping over a body here and there, stabbing each with my sharp sword to make certain they were dead. All dead. Old men and women, children but no babies. Where were the toddlers and infants? Unattended? I had to find them, for young would bring a price in the markets, thinking like Carlos at that moment. There was the smell of dampness, water down in a deep part of the level and I did find a trap door opening to an oblette. This had to be where they hid their young. I lowered myself down, standing knee deep in water, with things floating in it. What was this? A toy? A doll? I picked up one of them. It was a baby. The people had been so desperate that the evil Incanto’s daughter get to their children, they had slain their own chidren, their babies to save them from a monster like me. I was a monster. I have the lives of all those little innocent children on my soul, scratched in by the devil’s own claw. They had to haul me up to the surface, I was trying to check and see if there was even one baby alive, but all were dead. Dead before the castle was taken, gone when there was no hope. I caused that. I ran that siege. I have killed by order and by my hand and now by reputation. I am a monster. I do not deserve a child. “
Ae sat in the window seat staring out at the leafless trees, quiet now that she admitted what her main fear was, that she was undeserving of the life to be, her own unborn one. She had gone back home to Ireland and changed her ways, but the memory of that time had not left. It stuck unseen like shard of glass stuck in her skin, sharp, unseen yet continuing to give pain.
There was no mistake. At thatvery moment the child kicked. The first time she felt it, her hand right over where the first kick happened. The sun rays slipped through the gray clouds and it was then that Aegrane knew the Almighty did know she was truly sorry, she had changed her ways and tried to be a better person. The life within, so precious and undeserved was the Almighty’s sign. She had done wrong but was forgiven. The Almighty gives gifts for a reason. Aegraine did not question the Almighty’s decision. She slept there on the window seat until that eve when Dmitrii returned from Turas Lan, a peaceful sleep at long last. [/color]