A/N: Well, here it is, sorry it took so long. Many thanks to those who reviewed, and to my wonderful beta Drusilla, who is a bottomless well of yummy info.
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Chapter Two: Learning the Ropes
I awoke well after daybreak, to my horror, and rushed into my clothes, slopping my face and hands with the water I found in a jar on the table. I prayed that Elisabeth would not yet have risen to witness my tardiness. As I sped out the door, I stopped dead in my tracks, for there was Elisabeth! She rose from a chair and came toward me; I awaited the inevitable slap, but it did not come! Instead, she clucked at me, like a hen, and pushed me back into my chamber and went to a chest against the wall the door stood in. She opened it, and pulled out a grey gown which she handed to me. She said, accompanying her words with quick gestures, “Try this on. It was meant for me, but it was a bit too big, so it ought to fit you. Here!”
So I took the dress, saying ‘thank-you’–now not with so much hesitation, and pulled the dress over my head. It was rather coarse and dull compared to the fine Eastern cotton I was used to, but it looked like what I had seen everyone else in this place wearing, and I wouldn’t turn down anything that made me fit in a bit better. Elisabeth came around behind me and pulled tight the strings in the back, then laughed with satisfaction–at least I think it was satisfaction. Elisabeth led me to a small piece of glass hung on the wall in the sitting-room and gestured to it. I looked, and saw myself! All of the mirrors I had ever seen were polished metal, with handles, or stood on the floor: never on a wall. A glass mirror was wholly new to me, and I eyed it–and myself–curiously; I had not seen myself, except in streams and the shadowed, rippling surfaces of water in buckets, for many years.
I saw a tall girl, her hair paled by sunshine, with blue-grey eyes under straight brows. A few freckles marched across an unremarkable nose, which, like her face and neck and hands, was very much browned by long exposure to the Eastern sun. Against my darkened skin, the grey of the gown did not look too good, but it was warm, for which I was thankful, as the morning was chill. The room was chill as well, despite the crackling fire in the wall to our right; across from the fire was the door to my room, and in the mirror-wall was another door. The door leading to this room from the hallway was behind us.
When I had looked about me for a moment or two, I returned to my chamber and took down my hair. I carefully replaited it so it would stay out of my way, looping it up and tying it with a bit of cloth I used as a riband. Elisabeth watched me from the doorway; when she saw I had finished, she came in and promptly started touching things in the room, saying words which I repeated carefully. The sounds were coming back to me from I knew not where, assumedly my life before I became a slave. Had I come from this strange northern land? It seemed quite possible, I thought as I repeated her words with growing ease. Other words nudged their way out of the dark corners of my memory, but I did not try to grasp hold of them yet.
By this time we had moved around the large room and, through the door to the left of mine, into another large room. This one had a big bed in it, almost as wide as Elisabeth was tall, and several hands longer. It had a frame above it, supported by posts, and on this frame, though pushed up near to the head of the bed (against the wall) were heavy drapes of a rich red, similar in colour to Elisabeth’s gown, though deeper in hue. This bed stood against the wall to the left of the door, and on the far side of it was a wide window, about five hands across, and nearly seven high. In this window were small panes of glass, many of them, to my surprise, coloured. At one side of the window hung more red cloth. Against the wall across from the door was a fire-space–which my mistress had pointed out to me as a ‘hearth’–and above it was a long shelf with something that looked like a book and some cloth and, to the left, a large table. Against the right wall was a tall wooden cupboard, and next to it a low chest, with a carven front and metal handles. Against the wall with the door in it was a plain wooden chair, and a small table.
Elisabeth named everything in the room, from the latch on the door to the colours in the window. As she was pointing out the different panes (and I was repeating), the door opened and someone came into the room. After starting ‘round in surprise I quickly dropped my eyes. Elisabeth seemed more to want me to make eye contact with her than not, but I wasn’t sure how many people here shared such a strange policy. Elisabeth greeted the person with what sounded like pleasure, so I unstiffened a little, thinking that such a sunnily-natured girl would not be likely to have a fondness for an unpleasant person. I must have relaxed visibly, for the person who had just entered snorted and made an ironic comment; though I did not know the words, his tone was unmistakable. Elisabeth nudged me and I looked up, feeling a shock go through me as I met the eyes of the person who stood there–I saw him start, as well. A tall young man, perhaps of sixteen or seventeen years of age, with a shock of pure black hair, tanned skin, and startling eyes. Very dark, like his hair, but with specks of what seemed like…light--like flashes of sunlight in a bubbling spring. After what seemed like an age he put out his hand, and I slowly put mine into it, and we shook hands–something which I had observed the Northerners did when greeting each other–and he stepped back. The youth’s left arm was wrapped about a bundle of cloth, and this he placed on a shelf in the tall cupboard. As he did this, he talked to Elisabeth, and she responded briefly, and then he left. Elisabeth and I had, for the most part, completed her tour of her rooms, so we returned to the large, centre room–which she called a ‘waiting-room’–and sat down. A few minutes later the youth came in with a tray of food and set it down upon the table in the middle of the room, about two paces from the fireplace. As he left, Elisabeth beckoned me toward the table and set a platter in front of me, then proceeded to put food on it as I watched; she would not allow me to do aught but that.
Eggs she placed on the plate, and thick dark bread, and a cool brown mush, and a hot white mush, and a cup of milk. She pointed out that the brown was ap-el-saus, and the white por-itch. They were both good. I ate slowly, but without much hesitation; I relished this turn of fate that had so improved my diet, and allowed my mistress and me to hold conversation–at least, she talked. When all of the dishes were empty, I set them neatly back on the tray and moved over to the fireplace to sit in front of it. Elisabeth, however, pulled at my sleeve and gestured to a lovely embroidered chair. I think I must have looked shocked as I pulled away, for she laughed and shook her head, then pushed me into the seat. She sat down across from me, and talked quickly until, after a space of about five minutes, the youth came in to take the tray. Elisabeth spoke to him; he nodded and left. He returned shortly, and Elisabeth touched my arm and waved toward him. The youth stood at the door, holding it open, so I thought Elisabeth meant to imply that she was leaving, but she made no move to go. Then the young man met my eyes and waved his hand out the door, so I rose and went toward him.
He followed me out the door, and led me a brief way down the corridor, to the left, then through a smaller, unadorned door. He ushered me in, something I had never had done for me before. Inside there was a small fireplace in the left-hand wall, and some chairs and a table in front of it, a pace or two away. He pointed to one of the chairs at the table, and said something, so I sat down as he sat in the other one and turned to face me across the table. Upon the table were some rectangular pieces of slate and two narrow pieces of white stone. The youth picked up a piece of the white stone and handed it to me, along with one of the pieces of slate. He pulled the other grey square toward himself and took the other white stick. He wrote something on his slate, turned it toward me, and said ei. I repeated the sound and copied the letter onto my slate. The youth wrote a second familiar-looking letter, and called it bi, and I copied the mark and its name. He proceeded to write out their whole alpha-beta, and with each letter it got easier for me, as more and more came back to me from a dim past.
When we had written the alpha-beta and said it a few times, the youth wiped away the letter and, in their place, wrote down words and drew pictures of them, some with articles, some without. Several times, as soon as he finished writing a word, I would say it, and he would look at me in surprise, for he had not yet told me how to pronounce the letters in that sequence. Later he wrote sentences, the words written from left to right, oddly enough, with pictures above them. He spoke not except to read what he had written, and to correct my pronunciation; no gestures or signals did he make to aid me. At the end of what must have been two hours, when we had covered and cleared the slates four times with writing, he wrote a question. Above the first word was a questioning mark, above the second, an arrow pointing to me, above the third, a face with a pleased look–the youth had a talent for capturing expressions–above the fourth and fifth, someone walking, and above the sixth, an arrow pointing through a picture of a door toward a picture-field with picture-trees in it. I figured out his meaning as I read the words aloud to him; he was asking, did I wish to go out-of-doors? I smiled at this strange way of communicating, looked up, and nodded, punctuating it with an ‘aye’.
The youth looked pleased that I should so soon use their words of my own accord, and opened the door for me. He closed it behind us, then led the way down a different hallway, down another stair, to a door that opened into the large yard. He did not stop here, however, but continued across it to a door in the outer wall and unlocked that with a key at his belt. He swung it open about halfway, then followed me through the gap, closing the door carefully behind him. I turned around to face the place we had come to and laughed aloud. It was an exact image of the youth’s drawing depicting ‘out-of-doors’, as far as scenery went. We were in a meadow of thick green grass, scattered with white flowers, and, here and there, tall, bushy trees.
I was given words to repeat here (the trees he named mai-pels, the flowers, dais-is,) and dutifully repeated them, although my mind was almost fully occupied in remembering–remembering those flowers, thick grass, wet leaves shining after rain, wind-blown branches, and stone walls; though not those of this castle–for such had the youth called the large stone building. We walked into a wood where there was a stream and a small lake. Beside the lake was a long, flat stone and upon this stone was a cloth-covered basket, upon seeing which I gave a small cry. The youth grinned at me and sat down on the rock next the basket, and pulled off the cloth. I sat down a few hands away and he handed me a bowl, then a cup, and furnished himself likewise. After this he pulled food and drink (in a leathern bottle) out of the basket. He waved to the food arrayed on the rock and started filling his plate; I immediately followed his example. By the way he ate he appeared to have had no breakfast. I do not remember what was supplied for our noon meal. For my mind was still spinning—bewildered over the things which I had been rapidly remembering more and more of–not concentrating on what found its way to my stomach.
The youth must have noticed my absent-minded state, for during our meal I caught him watching me several times, and when it was completed, he looked at me anxiously at me with his head to one side, his lifted eyebrows denoting a question. I smiled and said that all was well, but of course he did not understand me. I concentrated for a moment, then said the same thing in his tongue. His eyes widened momentarily; he soon recovered from his surprise and laughed, saying something as he turned to face the lake. Afraid I had erred, I slowly asked him if I had said the words correctly, and he gave a short nod, his lips forming a half smile. I packed the basket and tucked the cloth in over the top. I touched the youth’s sleeve to get his attention, but he made no response; I, too, turned toward the lake and sat with my legs crossed and my chin in hands, my elbows propped on my knees.
We sat there for a while, and the youth never moved. After about a half of an hour he sighed and rose; I followed his example. He made a move toward the basket, but I was nearer to it and promptly seized it. The youth grinned at me and made a grab for the basket, but I stepped out of reach and he gave in. We began our walk back to the castle. The youth spoke not a word, so I made an attempt to start conversation, but again forgetting and speaking in my tongue—winning a puzzled look from the young man. So I switched to his language, again surprising him, as I asked what people called him. After a moment he responded that a few people called him ‘Jem’, but that his ‘full name’ was James. He apparently had not been told my name, for he asked me the same question, looking sideways at me as we walked out of the wood. I told that my name was Farina, and he shook his head! He said that my name sounded like one in his tongue, and that he hoped I didn’t mind if he called me ‘Fiona’, instead? I smiled and said no, I didn’t mind.
A whole forgotten language had unearthed itself in my mind, and I was eager to put it to use, so all the way back to the castle I talked to James, he sometimes correcting me, but not very often. At one point, he remarked to me that the way I spoke his language (and the speed with which I picked it up) was strange; I didn’t speak it with an Eastern accent, but the same way in which the Northerners. It appeared, he said, that I had come from somewhere in that region, which was a slightly—disturbing—thought for me. James at that point declared his intention of helping me to hunt out my birthplace, and if possible, my family. I laughingly, though somewhat slowly, told him that he was very kind, but there was no need as they had probably forgotten about me by now. James just shrugged, so I changed the subject, to ask him what my duties would be. He told me that I would be a maid to Elisabeth, and also help in other places. He was to be my guide until I was accustomed to both my way around the castle and my work.
And so he was, for the next couple of weeks. He showed me around Entley Castle, as I learnt it was called, and led me through my work in the kitchen, where he also worked, and the laundry, where he didn’t. He also coached me in English (his language) for my knowledge of it was slight, as I had only known it for a few years, before I was taught another. He did most of this in the wee room of the table and chairs, where he kept a large supply of slates and, when they wore out, new sticks of chalk. I learned much of daily life in the North during my hours spent working, and much of their tongue, and its irregularities as well. The three of us–James, Elisabeth, and I–went on pick-nicks in the woods, and went swimming in the lake in the woods, and we grew to be firm friends—at least, I became friends with both of them; they were friends already.
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A/N: PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!! It lets me know that someone is interested (if that’s so), and gives me pointers.