Julina gets to meet two new personalities, amongst others, as her crowded and hectic day continues

 
Julina of Blackstone
Her Chronicles

by Julia Phillips

010 - Two new faces

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2013 - 2020 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2020 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed him and cuddled him, rocking him in my arms. The poor dear was absolutely terrified for some reason. A man and a woman, alone, cuddling in an open corridor! Scandalous! But I cared not ...

There was some resistance at first, but that suddenly crumbled and I held in my arms and my lap the now-sobbing figure whose entire muscular structure seemed to have collapsed. I realised with a start that this was a similar state to that in which I found myself only this morning.

My knees were protesting by the time the sobs were subsiding. The housekeeper had come along and had taken in the situation at a glance. She looked me straight in the eyes and seemed to nod approvingly. If it hadn’t been so inappropriate, I could have sworn that she mouthed: “Thank the Maker for that”. But my concentration was now upon my 'patient', so I didn't dwell on that strange expression.

I kept murmuring little words of support and encouragement and by and by the emotional melt-down calmed into some sort of manageable state. My experiences with my younger siblings, particularly young Kord, proved to be of great assistance to me in this instance.

When he was once more in reasonable charge of himself, he looked up at me and smiled gratefully. I smiled back and took his hand. It was a nice, calm and friendly moment. One of simple friendship.

Which changed all too rapidly into a highly embarrassed attitude.

He straightened himself and called the housekeeper back, to observe the proprieties of a man and a chaperoned woman.

It is very difficult for me to put down as a record, for what is effectively public consumption, details of another person’s private life. So there will be left some gaps here. Even as I write these words, I know that you will be clamouring for details, but I feel strongly that this is not the time to reveal all. Maybe, later in my life, the time will be appropriate, but not right now. In particular when the subject is something about which I have actually no knowledge - it being far beyond any experience of mine so far in my short life. I will therefore limit myself to my observations and keep some things private - begging your understanding and indulgence.

When the tunic had ripped, it enabled me to see underneath it. The breasts I saw were smaller than mine; but were definitely breasts, I could see the valley between them. And they were enclosed in a bodice. As you may readily imagine, this was not what I expected to see on a male, particularly one so well respected in our community, and one who had been a guest in my house on regular occasions.

When we could talk sensibly, we were both aware that we had limited time, due to pre-arranged appointments, he (or she) with the saddler and I still had to break my news to my close friends and then get back to the Bell Inn for my appointment there with Mistress Yanda.

I could go on for hours and hours about what was said, why certain things were done and the various shocks, sighs and hugs that punctuated this period of eye-opening revelations. I will spare you the tedium, however, and just mention the salient points here and now. To save possible confusions, I will refer to the other person involved as M - this will help with the pronouns!

You may recall the following facts that I mentioned in an earlier tale: Master Morden, M’s father, travelled widely with the wagons, having started out as a guard/labourer but had progressed to Wagontrain Master. His wife, Maldenet, came originally from Blackstone, a niece of the Bellringers, but, like many, she preferred the bustle of Tranidor to the simplicity of her home village. And it was there that she and Master Morden settled down, and where Master Michen was born. After the very difficult birth, which had some follow-up complications, she subsequently never became pregnant again. She had been convinced during her pregnancy that she was carrying a girlchild, but she was shocked when the midwife peered through squinting eyes and announced a boy.

Master Morden was so delighted that he rushed around to everyone announcing his son. He has since admitted himself that maybe he got a little carried away, and every hour that passed seemed to add some glorious future to come with this honoured boychild. He was going to be a hero, at least two strides tall, mighty muscles, would eventually outshine even the King himself … and so on and so forth.

I myself have noticed that there exists an instinct in young children to select their playthings according to their nature. Having said that, I need also to say that I have learned quite early on in my life that there are very few things in any walk of life that are cut and dried as being either one thing or the other. Yes, everything in the plant world that grows goes through a green phase before adopting their final colours, but that green phase has different shades. A malm ends up being brilliant blue, a vayter (mmmmm - lovely sweet vayter - I don’t know a girl who doesn’t love vayter!) is bright orange. A staple vegetable is the koonkle which is green above the ground, but the crunchy root is such a bright red - it is an amusing contrast when you see the Doocloris munching away on them, their big floppy ears and bucked teeth making short work of the koonklin. Indeed, we all know the glories of the colours when the leaves begin to drop off the trees, and I, as an effective mother, also noticed the variations in my siblings as they grew. It is not possible to say that ALL boychildren ALWAYS prefer hard, utensil-like playthings, whereas ALL girlchildren prefer more animalistic playthings and things they can hug and act at nurturing.

And so the dreadful, life-long torture for M began. The father had declared to the world that they had a son, and was bitterly disappointed when it became clear from a very early age that the father’s dreams, however unrealistic, would never be fulfilled. M showed a marked preference for playthings and pursuits when young which were more on the female side of the balance rather than the male. Maldenet refused to let the anger of Master Morden be transferred to the child and they all accepted a compromise wherein M took an oath that s/he would never let outsiders know that the father’s pronouncements were unfounded.

Personally, I find extracting a solemn oath from a six year-old is probably cruel behaviour, but there was nothing I could do in any way now. And an oath is something that is very important in our society. M has spent an entire life trying to show the world that masculinity demanded by an over-enthusiastic father at the time of the birth. My fondness for Master Morden waned from the moment I appreciated the unnatural strains that he had imposed upon his offspring.

At this point, the housekeeper demanded to be heard.

She explained that she had known almost from the start that M was more female than male and that there were two women in the town who were sworn to secrecy, but also knew the truth. They had made dresses for Michet and underthings to make the swell of her breasts less obvious under the male tunics. (I had a flash of insight when I remembered the two women who had exchanged glances at that first women’s meeting I went to.) But Michet had never before had anyone with whom to share the load of her situation, and the housekeeper was pleased beyond anything that now Michet had someone she could relate to, share with and basically be herself.

I now understood the reactions of the housekeeper from earlier.

I hugged Michet close, and promised that I would never betray her, but that we would talk much and frequently in the times to come. The housekeeper herself was shedding a few tears as we both saw the lightening of Michet’s load in the way her shoulders were now carried. It was, of course, still early days but the foundations of a deep friendship were built there, kneeling together in that draughty hallway.

But now we were pressed for time so I encouraged Michet to turn back into Michen, to once again don the male persona to which both she, and he, was so accustomed. I promised most faithfully that I would visit her first thing in the morning to get everything of our new relationship more defined, and that I would never abandon her. She searched my face minutely for any sign of guile but found nothing. She smiled more brightly than I had ever seen this body do and I watched, mostly in awe, as she took a deep breath and returned bit by bit to Master Michen. The transformation was fascinating and my thoughts were all ajumble until she, no he, stood once again and said that he had to go and change. I forced all these thoughts into the back of my head, knowing that I would be pulling them all back to the front once I got home and had no appointments.

I believe the thing about which M was most grateful, was that I had accepted both her and him. I could both feel and see how important that was.

We heard a querulous voice come from the other sitting room, and we all three gathered ourselves together before old Morden could shuffle his way out to where we were. We exchanged meaningful glances and the two of us hastily twitched our clothes back into some semblance of normality. M excused herself, no himself by now, to go and change into a non-ruined tunic as Morden found the two of us women chatting in low tones outside. We pretended we were trying not to wake him, which is why we were whispering.

M came back to us after a bit and outwardly only Michen was visible, but her eyes told me that, inside, Michet was so grateful that I would keep her secret.

Thus it was with a much firmer friendship that the two of us put on our normal faces, the ones we always use for public consumption, and left HIS house to face the world outside - which was mocking us, in a way, since it looked exactly the same as it had before all our drama started less than a bell ago - surely the momentous changes of our time inside must be reflected in the outside?

We acknowledged some greetings from others as we took the few steps up to the Saddler’s door and waved to Master Brydas as we passed his forge. I’m sure there were more outbuildings behind his street-front house than there had been a week or so ago. There were definitely more men busy round there than I had ever seen before. I saw that he, along with his seeming army of workers, was making more of those truss things, but this time with a triangular cross-section rather than the squares I saw before. I also got a glimpse of his low bridge walls where he was testing the equipment with the use of the wagon ‘acquired’ from the campingplace.

We reached Master Waldan’s place - it was only two houses farther up the street from the forge - and went directly round the back of the house to the workshops. He was there as we expected, working at one station on one of those new-style saddles, which he had obviously just started. Next to him, at another workstation was a stranger working on a pair of shoes. He was still quite young, and did not look all that careworn as so many of my fellow citizens of this town did.

“Well met, Mistress Julina, Master Michen,” Master Waldan greeted us jovially. “I am just this moment starting upon your new saddle, Master. You have arrived at the best possible moment. But first, allow me to introduce to you our latest shoemaker. This is Master Wainer, very recently arrived with old Jefferkin and appointed by the Guildhall in Tranidor. Master Wainer, this is Master Michen, a resident of some standing here in town, being a retired decorated guardsman of the Duke and the organiser of the huntsmen that supply the Bell Inn and the roadhouse downvalley with fresh flesh taken from the wild. They also have some contracts with private individuals such as myself.”

The two men acknowledged each other, as Master Waldan continued: “… and this is Mistress Julina, eldest daughter of our road inspector. She has impressed everyone in the town with the way she has coped with a large family after the tragedy that took her mother from us some four or five years ago.”

It came as a little shock to me that the new man had in effect dismissed me simply because I was a woman. I had been dealing with men on a far more equal basis for some weeks now, particularly with the dealings about our new house, and it was surprisingly hurtful when I was brought back to reality by his casual nod in my direction before again turning his attention to the other men. I was amazed how quickly I had adjusted to getting some attention and consideration from men and had almost forgotten the prevailing attitude throughout our land. He had just reverted to the standard behaviour that was all too prevalent.

It occurred to me that mayhap my arrival together with M and without any chaperone MAY have made him think we were a couple, but I still found it irritating.

I bit back any sign of annoyance though, as we would need to be on good terms with the town’s shoemaker. I did however enjoy the look on his face when Michen explained to Master Waldan that the saddle would be for me and not for him, and that his own saddle could wait a few weeks.

“The women here ride frayen?” his tone indicating that he both queried and at the same time exclaimed.

He continued a little more thoughtfully: “It would not, however, be the first I had seen. I saw a rather large party of travellers going downvalley when I came up - and amongst them there were some women riding; I was shocked, I can tell you. Not just by the different saddles, both in shape and in position on the beasts, which immediately placed them as being foreign, but also by the fact of females riding. But the party itself was almost as intriguing - it seemed more like an army, and I swear one of the young men was wearing a princely uniform. There were some colours that I didn’t recognise and a lance pennant that described an encounter with a Ptuvil of all things. For these reasons I supposed the women to be from foreign parts, and were being escorted ceremoniously; another factor that convinced me of that conclusion was that we were on the Chaarn road at the time. One of the young women had a most distinctive hair style, but she was still very young as were two or three of the others. I was surprised that they allowed a young servant such as her to ride.”

We all grinned at that, but each was waiting for another to explain. Eventually the silence was broken.

“Oh yes,” began Master Waldan, “the women ride here. Not many, and not often, but I strongly suspect that it will be more frequently observed in the new year.”

He paused as if to decide how to say what he next wanted to say. However, it was Michen who continued.

“These lands belong to the Baroness Garia and she is but recently departed, so that would have been HER party you saw. And she would have been one of the riders. For it is our Baroness that carries that distinctive hairstyle.”

Master Wainer coughed and spluttered when Michen said that, and made an attempt to mollify any possible offence he may have given us. I reluctantly gave him full marks for speed of thought and awareness of possibilities and consequences. He had no idea of our loyalties and came up with a diplomatic approach.

“So large a party - and princely escorts! Surely you jest?” I noticed that his smile was really quite attractive, and … and then I got a hold of myself once more as Master Waldan took up the conversation.

“Not at all, Master Wainer. Master Michen has severely understated the case in all truth. The Prince Keren, for indeed ’twas he, and our Baroness are all but engaged to be wed. It is plain to anyone that they are made for each other, and have eyes only for each other; but they themselves are doubt-ridden for some unbelievable reason.

“There is much you should learn about our Baroness if you are to stay here and be accepted by the people. She has truly won all of them over - well nearly all of them. You will find the tales at first to be difficult to credit, but I expect most will be actual fact. She has already declared that she herself will take not a single soo in tax from us. The Town Assembly will most probably need coin to pay for the necessary amenities and facilities, but she has eschewed any income for herself from us.

“We may seem a dead-end town right now, and yes I have noticed your inner disappointment to be sent here, but within a year I wager you will be demanding a second and maybe even a third shoemaker to come up here. I have been severely strained to handle the repairs to shoes as well as my own large order book - for these new saddles particularly, which have been introduced to our lands by our Baroness, no less - so I am glad to be able to hand those repairs to footwear over to you.”

Master Wainer looked thoughtful - it would have been obvious, even to a blind man, that he needed to readjust his mind-set quite rapidly.

Master Waldan continued: “You need to find your own feet, if you will forgive my little joke, here in our community, and naturally I will help with introductions and so on. However, I am aware that I could easily over-influence you so I urge you to get a balanced view. I believe that only in this way will you be able to be confident of what I say. I recommend you ask around this evening and in the next few days to get a good feel for the town and the people’s attitudes. I dare say you will be quite shocked from what you hear.” He paused here before continuing in a very serious way as he adopted a deeper tone and a more measured delivery: “And a word of warning: underestimate the women of this town at your peril!”

I was quite impressed by the fact that Master Waldan made such a statement as that last one, and I decided to strike when I deemed it appropriate - like now! I joined in the conversation: “Where are you staying, Master Wainer, and did you bring your family with you?”

He looked at me, surprised that a woman would initiate a conversation, but then Master Waldan’s last words registered, and with a great gulp he turned to me and actually conversed. I saw the suppressed grins on Michen’s and Master Waldan’s faces.

“I have travelled alone, Mistress … Julina, was it? I am unwed. I have only recently been honoured with my Master title and have always said that I would establish my practice before establishing a family. I confess that I was somewhat unimpressed with my appointment by the Guild to what I have heard is a simple, backward, high-mountain community at the very end of the road. And I have been here for only a few bells. I am currently being looked after kindly by Master Waldan, whose name was given me as a first contact, but I understand that the shoemaker’s house and workshop is provided by the town. I am to meet a Mistress Sandara later to arrange some sort of access to the premises and inspection of the facilities. I must be there at the seventh bell, so I thought I would do a little work to use up the time until then.”

“Well then, welcome to Blackstone, Master Wainer. I shall refrain from confusing you with too much information so early in your stay, but feel free at any time to ask me if you have any queries. If I do not know the answer, I’m fairly sure I know who to send you to to get that answer.”

He was taken aback a bit, but the other two all backed up my claims and I knew he would consider it in the future.

There was hope for him.

And he was really quite slim and fit. I found myself wanting to inspect his backside, and felt a little blush rush to my cheeks.

“Just why was there a vacancy way up here for a shoemaker anyway?” he asked.

“Well … let’s say there was bit of a disaster that created the opening. A very awkward predicament that arose. I’m not sure how much more I should say.”

“Please don’t stop there, Master Michen. What disaster could hit a simple shoemaker in this community? I certainly can’t conceive of anything on Anmar that could cause such a predicament.”

“Ah, Master Wainer - the full story will take a bell or more, maybe we could meet later in the Bell Inn for an ale or two? It always helps to talk with a moist throat, after all. But the short answer to your natural question is … attempted murder and treason!”

I watched as the newcomer’s jaw dropped and he struggled for words. He stood up in astonishment and turned complete circles as he struggled for a suitable reply. No-one could have expected THAT reply, I knew. But this gave me an opportunity to examine, discreetly of course, his backside, which I did not find wanting, despite his tunic being a trifle long and therefore covering a fair proportion of it.

Master Waldan and I however were then required to retire to another room while he called for his wife to come out to us, so he could gain the measures of MY backside to be sure the saddle would fit. Mistress Pomma came out very promptly, almost as if she had been waiting for a summons and the way she kept glancing over to where the new man was, even though he was out of sight, convinced me that her curiosity was at peak levels. She was polite and charming as usual despite being more than a little distracted, but her attention sharpened when it was explained to her what was required of her.

“So YOU are going to ride? Oh how I wish I could!”

“Well tell me how to take the right measurements and I’ll measure you now, so your man can make you a saddle too. Mistress Sukhana down to the Claw is desperate for riding partners and there are not too many riders left in town now the Baroness has taken them all with her!” I caught the hope in her eyes, and a flicker of annoyance on the face of Master Waldan.

“That will mean we need another frayen from somewhere, and the expense of keeping it and feeding it and so on and so forth. And you will need riding lessons. And all the associated stuff. And I suppose new clothing. Maker, when will it ever end?”

“But there would be advantages too, Waldan. I can do so much more for you, being able to carry heavier loads and so on …”

“This is neither the time nor place to discuss this, woman. I will let Julina measure you as it is convenient, but be very aware that this does NOT mean I approve of taking this any further - clear?”

She nodded her acceptance but the look of hope and determination on her face told me that this would indeed be taken further - and soon!

“… and,” he continued, “I am aware that your curiosity is driving you wild about the newcomer so I have invited him to stay with us until he can move into the shoemaker’s house. This may be as long as two weeks, so you will have plenty of time to satisfy that curiosity. That being so, I suggest that you scurry back into the house to get everything ready as soon as Julina has done her task, after you have done yours.”

She curtseyed to her husband in an obedient way, but which somehow contained to my eyes an element of mocking him too. She then quickly told me what to do even as we retired behind a screen, where, amid much giggling, we took all the numbers of what was required. It was over in another two or three moments. She did literally scurry back, demonstratively, into the house as Master Waldan and I returned to the workstation where the two men were chatting still. We both noticed however that the newcomer had retaken his seat and had not stopped working as he contributed to the conversation with nods and little grunts, some of them of exclamation, some of inquisition, some of just general agreement and some of encouragement. His attitude was more and more impressive to us.

“…. and yes, Mistress Sandara really did seem to think she was so much better than others here! You may find her more than a trifle biased in her views, but she and her husband were not much liked by the townsfolk. Being the only shoemaker here, and the son of an old established family, he was even so only just tolerated. Their son was a very unpleasant person too, giving off a very disturbing air. The only good one of the family was the daughter and she has now gone off to be of service to our Baroness.

“The shoemaker did not like to lose control of the young girl and when his general behaviour came to light, particularly that during the Trogan era - oh I must tell you about that later - and also Mistress Sandara’s unacceptable behaviour to her own daughter, then they were justly punished by the Baroness. Of course, they did not accept that they had done anything wrong at all, and thus they turned against the new Baroness and her colleagues.

“That was a bad business - a bad business indeed; I will give you all the details of that as well later. But she came down to the ground with a bump when she found herself no longer in a position of influence. All her previous airs and graces came back to haunt her once the reality of the situation hit her. She receives very little assistance from others, most of whom will not even start a conversation with her. I hear she has sent to relatives … Ah, here are the others back from whatever they have been doing. I will talk with you later but for now I have another appointment, and must escort Mistress Julina to her next destination.”

“Waldan, he jests, surely? All these narratives of very unusual events, they are surely just a tale-teller’s devices?”

“Not at all, but it seems he must leave us right now. I shall tell you some of the tales but you will require some patience as there is much background to be covered. Farewell Master, Mistress.”

Master Wainer also bid us farewell, it seemingly being easier already to talk with a woman. I curtsied to the men, Michen bowed and we started away as Master Waldan turned back to his work and restarted his conversation.

“It all starts with a wagon train coming over the Palumaks from Moxgo, under a year ago. Well, …”

... ... ...

Michen was good to his word and escorted me to the neighbouring house where Malet opened the door for me with an unhidden delight, saying she recognised the way I knocked on the door. I suppose bellringers are more sensitive than most to tones and rhythms. I turned to thank Michen, but in reality I wanted to hug Michet. This was not something I could do here on the threshold, observed by all on the campingplace. I could see that Michet was peering out and wanted to as well, but the same factors held her back. Only Michen was to be observable by others. I got then an even greater feeling for her inner battles and her despairs of the past just from this fleeting event.

I turned away and entered Malet’s home, making my way without being told to the sitting room. I heard her close the door behind us and she followed me, we reaching the room just as Kelly came in from the other direction. I could see they were curious as to why I was there at that particular time of day, it being just when I would normally be so busy.

I raised a hand to indicate that they should just be quiet whilst I gathered my thoughts - I needed to decide just how much information to impart, particularly with regard to the Michen/Michet thing. My silence made them even more intrigued, I could see.

I decided that it would be best if I started at the earliest relevant moment and just continued from there. I knew they were catching my excitement and they were both rapidly losing their patience as I pondered a little longer. I dropped my hand to indicate that I was ready, took a deep breath, and started.

“I’m sorry to be so sensational but there is so very much I must tell you - I think it’s best if you are both here to avoid later questions and misunderstandings.

“It all started just yesterday, after I left here …”