Debtor's War Pt. 02

"But of course." She fixed my crooked veil and tucked my rebellious hair back under it. "Let me see you? Are you mended?"

I sniffed experimentally, the nosebleed had stopped. The gash on my eyebrow was still oozing. She folded the blood stained muslin into a tight triangle.

"Here. Keep your hand pressed hard right there. Come. Let's get you cleaned up."

I followed in her wake, and for her dignity no-one stared or so much as glanced at us. Daniel went ahead, opening the door for her and closing it behind me. He wasn't the least bit flustered or embarrassed. He left us alone together in his mother's chamber, which I'm certain he would never have done had he realised I was a knife wielding (former) prostitute.

"Sit down here, child." She pulled out her upholstered dressing stool and I sat gingerly on it. It was like sitting on a cloud. She dampened a clean cloth with rose water and began dabbing gently at my face. "What's your name?"

"Elizabeth, madam."

"And? Are you simple? What is your name, good grief."

"That's why I'm here." I said carefully. "I have a trade and a home, I have means, but no name. Not yet."

She raised an eyebrow, and the corner of one lip curled into an odd half smile. "No jest. And you, wisp of a little thing, walked into my husband's court with no-one to speak for you?"

I reached into my bodice and pulled out my heavy purse. "These are all I have to speak for me. A couple of silver dukes and copper kings, whether or not they will persuade him is in the hands of God."

"Sweet Jesus," she laughed. "And how did you come by such persuasive friends?"

"My master taught me well and paid me well. Now I've been housekeeping for an elderly merchant with no family of his own, Herr Lugoz, the tanner. I've handled coins and goods honestly for him. I plan to continue making my own living that way, but until I gain my independence I'll be a burden to anyone that takes care of me."

"He'll marry you then, this old goat? Is that what he says? Else he'd speak for you himself?"

"I guess. I'm not counting on it, I can provide for myself."

"What a state we're in. I'll wager you don't even know your Lord's name?"

"No, madam."

"Such nobles here. They feel more affection for tax revenue, and more obligation to their cups and dogs than the souls in their care. What estate were you born in?"

I shrugged. "It's all gone to kindling to protect the wall. I've no idea where I was baptized."

"The date of your birth?"

"I'm nineteen? I think."

"Your parents?"

"Margaret was my mother's name. Everyone remembers her as Marta. And my father is Johannes, called John, though he's been well rid of me since I came of age. It's no good, is it? I don't want to waste your husband's time."

"Not at all." She wet the cloth again and carried on washing the blood off my face. It was a delightful scent, the rose water, but it made the rest of my body feel ten times filthier. "Duty, my dear. So many have failed in their duty to you. It is shameful."

I was quite taken aback by her tone. Her empathy. When my face and hands were cleaner than the day I was born, she led me back down stairs, this time to an office where a dark suited young man was cutting feathers into pens. He stood hurriedly, a surly frown furrowed his square brow. "What can I do for you today, Lady Barbara?"

"You may prepare a charter of emancipation for this young woman. Her name is Elizabeth Walder. She was born and baptized on November 19th, which is her namesake's feast day. We shall assume she was born in Wiener Stadt in the year of our lord 1510, and that she was baptized at St Stephen's. Will you remember all that?"

He fumbled to scratch some notes on a scrap of parchment. "Yes my lady. But I'm commanded to serve only the commissioner's party today, I was told everything else could wait."

"Pah. We both know there will be no really urgent business till after sundown. Chop chop, my man. Make haste."

"Of course, my lady. As you wish," he grumbled.

"You shall have to pay tax, mind." She took my elbow and guided me deftly back to the hall. "And I advise you to tithe well to the cathedral, lest anyone ask questions about your baptism. If you wed, they are sure to check the ledger at St Stephen's."

"I don't know enough fancy words to thank you," I stammered.

"Thank me after he signs it. Are you hungry?"

This was too much. It was surreal. "I... I could eat?"

"Magnificent."

In a corner of the hall a table had been set, with chairs only on one side like a painting of the last supper. A chill ran up my back as I connected the dots. It had the same curious air of anticipation. The same edge, the sidelong glances, the whispered intrigue, but they were all killing time. No business could really begin until after dark.

What I wanted to do was make my escape, share my suspicions with Claudia and Lugoz and never set foot in that building again, but I suppressed my good sense. I wouldn't stay till nightfall, I reasoned. I would only stay long enough to get what I came for.

I trailed after the noble Bürgermeister's wife. She was the hostess of course, and from snippets of conversation I gathered they were all here to see an exhibit. Stonemasons and carpenter's guilds had put together a mock up of ongoing plans for the fortifications. This odd gathering of people represented investors and other interested parties. Scale models of defence towers and bulwarks were brought out veiled with fine drapes, the cathedral spire lifting the centre like a tiny tent pole.

There was a drawn out but civilized argument between two middle aged men about the relative weight and purity of Tyrolean versus Thuringian coins. It washed over me, that first encounter with imperial politics, though I remember it well enough. There was more to their words than mathematics and ratios, the animosity between them was laughably ill-concealed. The Bürgermeister's wife cut in before offence could be taken and steered their conversation around to the transportation of limestone.

My feet itched to run, the little square of autumn sky above the hearth had already begun to darken. I clutched a pewter goblet in my fist with a white knuckle grip and sipped the fine sweet wine. "Madam Bürgermeisterin, begging your pardon..."

She turned to me almost as though she'd forgotten I was there. "Yes dear?"

"I can't be out after curfew," I said. "Old... I mean Herr Lugoz won't allow it."

"What nonsense. I will see you home safe and sound once business is settled. Here." She snapped her fingers in the direction of a servant, a young man dressed plainly but decently. "Take note to Jan Lugoz that his ward is safe with me and shall be until our business is concluded." She waved her hand in dismissal and the lad bowed before dashing off.

I gulped.

She smiled. "So. What do your sharp eyes make of the man my son is speaking with?"

I had been trying to ignore Daniel's existence. Watching him laughing, talking, leaning into pat the flamboyant young knight on the shoulder I felt myself flush. "It really isn't my place to say," I said lamely, but noting the sudden tightness in the lady's jaw I added, "do they fight together? In the army I mean."

"No," she smirked.

"They know each other well. They trust each other."

"Yes they do."

There was a similarity about the two young men, but I was guarded enough not to point that out. If they had a father in common but were not brothers it was certainly an inappropriate topic. I watched Lady Barbara's face change subtly again, a little tinge of sadness. I let my own eyes do my talking, begging her not to force me to say it out loud.

"Is the wine to your liking?" she asked.

I sighed with relief. "It's strong."

"Take some water with it perhaps, keep your wits."

"As you say madam."

She topped up her own goblet with half wine and half water. "I take it you're always armed. And that it's not personal to our company?"

"What? No! I mean yes, always."

"Interesting. Of course, we're at war," she sighed. "Dangerous times. A test for our values."

"I don't feel safe without them," I said, adjusting my belt so that the weapons fell more discreetly between my gown and my trailing veil. "Everyone has a knife."

"True, very true. For eating. For convenience. But not this Italian craftsmanship paired with Toledo steel, may every sweetmeat beware. Can you use them as well as you wear them?"

I nodded. A few people discretely watched her interrogate me.

"Jan didn't teach you."

"No Madam."

"Go on."

"My master taught me fighting, and plenty more too."

"What did he learn from you?"

I baulked at that but she persisted, eyebrow raised, held my gaze as my mouth dried up. "I'm not really sure what you're..."

"The value of temperance?"

"Do you know master Enzo?" I forced out the words, gripped the cup a little tighter. "I don't think I taught him anything like that."

"Obedience perhaps?"

I cringed as Daniel spoke just behind me, "This is beneath you."

I turned to him but his attention was solely on his mother.

"Hardly," she smirked.

"Go easy on the wine, and with respect, mother, keep your own counsel."

A tiny spark of resentment flared in her face. "Yes of course. Apologies, my son."

"Come." He guided me firmly by the elbow to a low bench by the door. "You can wait here, I'll see that the documents are prepared with all due haste."

"I can come back another time sir, it's no trouble."

"Sit." He frowned down at me until I sank obediently into the seat. "Don't worry," he said, resting his hand briefly on my shoulder. "No harm done."

I thought I was going to throw up. I prayed Lugoz knew what he was doing when he sent me here. I didn't know what to make of it, an alien life to mine in fine silk and armour, with oaths and banners, the veneer of peace in a city at war.

I watched Daniel laughing with his mother, drifting among their peers talking. Dotted away in corners, servants watched them too.

My initial anxiety faded to disillusionment. She'd just been using me to irritate her son. Perhaps, my audacity simply amused her. She might know too much about me, I fretted. She knew Lugoz. She knew Enzo. She knew... things. But that didn't matter, right? She still had the power to help me.

After a while, a servant directed me to follow him to the clerk's office. The bored looking young man was all eyes now. He handed me a wooden scroll case. "Keep it safe please. Half my work is reproducing lost attestations."

"Here." I scrabbled in my pouch and dug out the brightest of the two thick silver groschen.

He took the fat coin and turned it over in his palm with a little smile. "That will do me." He tucked it away out of sight.

"Did the Bürgermeister sign it then? No questions asked?"

He rolled his eyes, "Of course. Did you doubt Lady Barbara's influence?"

"She was with me the whole time."

"I stuck it in with a batch of the military accommodation licences. He was in a hurry and he can barely read."

"God bless you." I bowed my head to hide my face, I could have cried.

"Just call me Saint Inkpen. She's not really understanding what it all means though, Lady Barbara. She's done this for small folk before, soldiers mostly, but it's different for women. The law says you must have a guardian. And if you don't have blood relatives, it will be the city by default. You're a ward of court now, I suppose, best I could do."

"I'm sorry, I don't have a clue what any of that means." I clutched the scroll case protectively to my chest.

"So you buy, sell, rent, whatever, it's in the name of your lord, father, husband, whoever. Right?"

I nodded.

"Well, now that's you. The paper says it's the Bürgermeister, and that you have official licence granted by him to trade in your own name and make your living. If anybody gives you trouble, cheats you, tries to take an unfair cut, you come back here. It's a civil offence, he'll fine the shit out of them."

"Right." My heart sank. I was not a free citizen at all. "So I'm not able to free another person?"

"Eh?" He scowled as he began rolling out another half finished piece of vellum, clipping it tidily to his inclined desk.

"If I was a man I could free my sister, but I can't, can I? Anymore than Lady Barbara can? It would have to be through you."

He scratched his wispy beard and let out an exasperated sigh. "Does it have to be tonight?"

I nodded earnestly, "I'll make it worth your while, take the lot." I thrust my coin purse at him, God knows how I kept a steady hand. "My twin sister. Everything else is the same, but her name is Claudia."

"That's not clever, Miss Walder. A dishonest man would take advantage. What's the hurry?"

I kept my voice level and my hand steady. "I can beg, I'm not proud."

"Begging me?" His brow furrowed. His eyes seemed older than his years. "Not the young lord or his mother? I mean... Give it here. Not your purse."

He batted the pouch gently aside and took back the scroll. When he unfurled the vellum I could see it was rolled up with a blotting cloth, the ink was still not fully set.

"That's your name at the bottom there. See?" He pointed to the curling script, I had to take him at his word. "And here, beneath I will add," he cut the letters deftly into the page as he spoke, "some fancy work. Let the most beloved Claudia Walder receive the same liberties and protections as her sister in perpetuity. That leads nicely into the signature with not a scrap of space wasted, ex auctoritate propria... His Lordship's gracious mark."

"Done?"

He didn't look up at me to answer, but carefully began to fill the new marks with ink. "It's easy, this part. Now you have to live it, make them believe it."

He left my little charter pegged out to dry and moved the more complex work over to a bigger desk.

I dwelled on his words. I'd never laid claim to a single bed I'd slept in, there was not one inch of my skin that didn't know its own weakness first hand. This piece of vellum, this petty little miracle that he'd produced in under an hour would change my life.

"Are you a priest?" I asked him.

He raised an eyebrow, "I am but a scribe."

"Saint Inkpen?"

"Nathan."

"The Bürgermeisterin has probably already forgotten I exist."

"You hope," he said with a cynical little laugh. "See this?" He gestured to the manuscript.

I peered over his shoulder. He made a fancy little flourish with his tool.

"It's almost ready for names, dates and signatures. Just needs a little more block work on the borders, a few bits filling with the gilt paint."

It was beautiful, intricate work. "You're a master." I set my hand gently on his thigh.

He hesitated before resting his ink stained fingers on top of mine.

"You already paid me"

"I know."

"You paid me enough."

"Don't be embarrassed," I boldly traced the outline of his cock through his breeches, "tell me to stop and I'll stop."

He did not say any such thing. He got up and bolted the door. Just as I hoped, his nimble fingers found their way under my clothes, cupping and caressing with eagerness, demanding arousal. I was there, dear god, I was all over him too, grounded and entirely myself. I gave that to him, my heat, my desire, knowing no fear at all.

I lay back onto his manuscript, on top of his half gilded writ of law, my back pressed up against the vellum as he entered me cleanly in one stroke, fucking like animals in the full glory of youth.

I ran my hands up over his chest, caressed his half open mouth, caught the soft curls of his short hair, pulled him down and kissed him, took him by surprise. I threw my legs around his hips, lifted my cunt to meet every heavy stroke, and it was over all too soon. I bit my finger as he groaned, held my hips steady as he spilled inside me. I hadn't come, Nathan had treated me far too gently for that.

Then we stood together, still breathing hard, straightening each other's clothes. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"You fuck like... like..."

"We fuck like it's the last day of our lives."

That sobered him up. "I have to... I should..." he glanced back at the now crooked manuscript.

"Probably. Yeah."

I unlocked the door and sat at the smaller table. He moved his work over to the larger lectern, and continued cutting, glancing over at me now and again with a deliciously wicked smile.

I traced over the letters of my new name a little wistfully. "I should go."

"Let me walk you back out to the hall." He carefully wrapped up my scroll, packing it loosely with the blotter. "You could hang it somewhere warm and dry for a couple of hours, the colours will set better."

I promised that I would.

We walked in step. Voices carried, growing clearer as we approached the great hall, he smuggled me back in through a narrow side door and blew me a little kiss as he closed it.

The presentation was in full swing, one of the craftsmen was giving an animated explanation of his detailed model. It was a strange thing to behold the near silent gathering. The noble people stood and listened. There were many more now, a better mix of men and women, but the servants and guards were missing. Walking across to the exit would have drawn too much attention, so I stood in a shadowed spot between the islands of lamplight and tried to make sense of it.

Daniel was at his father's side, they were the image of each other. His mother was nowhere to be seen. I almost slipped right back out the door again, but some instinct made me freeze, just as a polite ripple of applause signalled the end of the craftsman's pitch. A young knight, his armour emblazoned with the Habsburg crest, said a few words thanking the guildsmen for their contributions, whereupon the larger doors swung open.

A squall of icy drizzle blew in with the newcomers, and a hush descended on the gathering. Every eye including my own was drawn to the pair, they carried themselves like royalty, king and queen, arm in arm.

The dark cast of the noble woman's fur lined cloak contrasted the glassy perfection of her face. Her lashes and lips were dewy with rain, as she drew back her hood in a cascade of glittering droplets. Her perfect cupid's bow narrowed to a scowl but that did nothing to diminish her imperious beauty. A nearby gentleman scurried forward to take her cloak, rewarded by a stern nod.

The young man who walked in with her didn't pause to disrobe but strode up to the knight with a broad grin on his face. They clasped hands, embraced as brothers, the knight dropped to one knee and kissed the lord's hand. As if a spell had been broken, the entire gathering slipped into informality. As the people began to chatter and carouse, I took the opportunity to slip back out of the hall.

They couldn't have been more different than Enzo's Lady, but I knew them for predators. I couldn't have put it into words, but nothing would have persuaded me to walk past them through that crowd and leave. There was no other way out. Rather than returning to the scriptorium I made the snap decision to head to Lady Barbara's chamber. The little door seemed to loom larger with the surreal quality of a nightmare.

She answered the door herself. Her eyes were unfocused, damp from crying, her clothes all in disarray. I hurried into her room and closed the door behind me.

"I shall... I shall scream..." she stumbled away, put a chair between us.

"Please don't." I shook my head, exasperated, "you left me with Nathan the clerk, remember?"

She shook her head, wincing as though it hurt. "No... I did... oooh, I did!"

I knelt on the floor, set down the scroll case, raised my hands up where she could see them, "I can't go out into the hall. Not on my own."

She sat heavily in the chair. "My damned head is killing me." She looked absolutely dreadful.

"Please, don't you remember, my lady? You took care of me before."