Season notes: violence, death, attempted murder
They had just returned from Porton when a messenger arrived with news of another mine collapse. While Jahlene read the message, Mattin brought the messenger to the kitchen for a meal.
“It’s the same mine, isn’t it?” Mattin shook his head in bafflement.
The messenger pulled his shoulders in and shook his head, “Yeah, but this one isn’t like the others. Folks were already whispering about sabotage when I saddled up. First reports back from the rescue party said the braces hadn’t been dried right—still green wood inside.”
Mattin left the messenger settled with Cook and a hot plate, and reported to Jahlene.
“I see. I’m going to need to go out to the mine today. Please tell Joth I’ll need to skip our time tomorrow. I’ll try to make it up to him next week.”
Mattin hurried to carry the message. Since returning from court she had made time in the glamourhame a frequent and regular part of her routine, but things did come up. More than once she’d needed to cancel or postpone a session. From things Mattin had picked up over the past few months, missing one session wouldn’t hurt either Joth or the mistress.
Strangely, it did hurt Mattin. Since returning from court, Jahlene had barred him entirely from the glamourhame. He understood why; he had only entered there at all as preparation for court—preparation that had served them well. Now, with court done, the mistress had no need of his service in the glamourhame; she would not risk his losing control of himself again.
From the odd comment she had dropped, Mattin knew the mistress thought witnessing the luohei glamour exhibitions at court would have made him even more uncomfortable with glamourhai.
But it didn’t. It had the opposite effect. Mattin had seen with his own eyes how different most fae were. He knew Jahlene cared for her toys, that they enjoyed being part of her games, and he found himself longing to regain the small part he had in them. Vestiges of shame over those longings remained, but he wouldn’t deny them now. He knew he should speak with someone about the change in his perspective—Brit or Cook, or even the mistress herself, if she would listen. But he didn’t.
In a strange way, his longing had become a special and private thing. Besides, with the way the mistress had opened up to him again, he wasn’t going to risk stirring things up. He didn’t want to find out how badly that would turn out.
So he carried the message to Joth, saying not a word more than necessary. Joth, as he expected, was disappointed but not upset. “Tell her I understand, and I’ll be alright. Try to keep her from overworking, huh?”
Mattin smiled and nodded. He was still forbidden to speak with Joth or the other toys aside from official messages. In some ways, that enforced silence was the worst. He longed to talk about his feelings with the people who would understand.
He reminded himself—again—how much better his relationship with the mistress had become and not to get greedy. Then, he returned to the mistress to report and start tackling the latest emergency.
Jahlene didn’t get a chance to reschedule the missed session with Joth. In fact, within three weeks, she was routinely canceling time with her toys, as more and more problems emerged.
Jahlene’s inability to spend time with her toys created other problems. Tensions between the toys themselves increased, especially between Joth and Crait. Before long, the two had started blaming each other for Jahlene’s lack of interest in her usual pleasures. According to manor rumor, Jaffrey caught the two of them fighting behind the stables one day. He dumped a bucket of water over their heads and drove them away with a horsewhip.
Each day found a new disaster at their doorsteps. Once, the latch on the stallion’s loose box was left open overnight, and the stallion escaped. They couldn’t track the beast down until the next afternoon. Litra, the groom who’d last cleaned the stall, was chastised for his lapse—insisting, the whole time that he’d secured the stall.
Oeloff imposed a trade tax on merchants passing through his lands. Goods shipped from County Erida were exempt, thanks to the bargain Jahlene made with him at court, but imports weren’t. With the Lavis River flowing through his territory, Jahlene’s trade-dependent people were hammered again. Overnight, the cost of importing the food the county lived on jumped by a third.
Jahlene, Brit, Parlen, and Mattin spent a long day going over records on farms within the county, the state of the treasury, prospective taxes, and a good deal else. By the time they finished, Jahlene was satisfied. If nothing else went wrong the county wouldn’t be facing starvation next winter. But it was going to be a long year.
Mattin put the last of the records away and went to sit with the others. Unthinkingly, he sat on the floor near Jahlene’s couch, his head at her knee. Brit and Parlen exchanged amused glances.
Jahlene had summoned Elose to serve tea while Mattin dealt with the papers. Mattin enjoyed the chance to sit and let someone else serve him for once. Elose handed him tea with a wink. He took a sip, hoping to hide his blush. As he put the tea down, Jahlene’s hand settled on his shoulder. With a sigh, he leaned back against the couch, allowing his eyes to fall closed.
No one spoke, even Parlen had nothing to say. After the day just passed, they were content to sit and enjoy a few moments’ peace. Mattin wondered how he would have reacted six months ago if someone tried to tell him of this night. The image made him snort and shake his head.
“Mm?” The mistress sounded like she was half asleep on the couch.
Mattin smiled. “A memory, Lady.” He wondered if he’d ever have a chance to thank the trader who sent him to Jahlene because she was Oeloff’s enemy…
“Lady?” he asked, “Would you tell me how you and Oeloff became enemies?”
The hand on his shoulder stiffened, and he regretted asking. But she patted his shoulder and said, “I assume you’ve heard by now that I killed my mother?”
He nodded, remembering the story Jaffrey had shared.
“Well, he tried to have the county taken from me. My mother had already named me her heir, and my glamour was more than powerful enough to hold the seat. But I was still a child—and a murderess.”
Mattin wished he could look at the mistress but was afraid to move. Brit’s eyes darkened with memories. “Oeloff wanted to get himself named as my mother’s heir instead. But Dannu’s Voice spoke from First Grove and said that Dannu cast out Lady Trilla for taking a child in the glamourhame.”
“The Empress?”
Brit grinned, but his eyes stayed dark, “The same. We were all terrified of what would happen. A fast courier arrived from the capital with the news. A fine celebration we had that night—those of us fit to celebrate anything.”
“But he is still the most likely heir if anything should happen to me.” Jahlene’s voice was grim. “I need to find an heir, but there’s never been anyone I trusted with strong enough glamour.”
Mattin shuddered at the idea of anything happening to Jahlene.
“Don’t worry.” The hand softened, and rubbed his shoulder. “I’ve made arrangements to see you all safe if anything happens.”
Shaking his head, Mattin set the tea down and faced her. “If it’s all the same, Lady, I’d rather it not come to that.”
She chuckled, “You aren’t the only one.”
No one else said anything, but the mood was broken. A short time later, Brit and Parlen took their leave, and Mattin cleared the tea before helping Jahlene settle for the night.
Jahlene chose to eat in the dining hall. She wanted to spend time with the rest of the household and do what she could to reassure them. She tried to project a relaxed and confident presence and it seemed to work. The tension in the room had been steadily dropping.
Then Sare stormed into the room, fists clenched and eyes blazing. Jahlene choked, her sweet soup turned hot and bitter as she tasted the girl’s anger.
Jahlene signaled Brit to expect trouble, but before he could intervene Sare stalked over to Joth and punched him in the face.
The room froze.
Sare turned and walked to Elose, taking advantage of everyone’s shock. Elose wasn’t as stunned as everyone else. Or else seeing Sare bearing down on her jarred her out of her shock. She blocked Sare’s fist and then they were rolling around on the floor, knocking over benches and screaming. Brit reached the two women and started trying to pry them apart. Off-duty members of the guard converged on the squalling fighters and helped. Before long, both women were escorted to the Housekeeper for bandaging and a stern lecture.
Later, when Jahlene asked Sare what had happened, the laundress refused to answer. “They know why,” she said, “and they got what they deserved.”
Elose and Joth insisted they had no idea why Sare was so upset, but Marta told Mattin later that she’d seen Elose and Joth in the bathing room together and ’left so they would have privacy.’ The implication was obvious — and baffling. To Mattin’s knowledge, Elose never shared herself with Joth, but clearly, something had happened.
It was the first feud to erupt in the manor. It wasn’t the last.
More and more often, Jahlene delegated Mattin to deal with problems within the household, allowing her to focus on county-wide disasters. Technically, the household was Brit’s domain, but he didn’t have the patience to effectively deal with baseless fights.
Ordering people to stop fighting wasn’t enough. If someone didn’t force the feud of the week to sit down, figure out what had set it off, and find a way to make peace, then the suppressed tension just added more poison to the household’s unity. Mattin was… moderately successful at his new task, but it took far too much time away from his usual duties.
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