Dance of Falcons 1

well last night I finished 'Dance of Ravens' which follows this one to complete a trilogy which wraps up all the loose ends. I might take today off writing. My new pastel pencils arrived.

In this one, Władysław reluctantly goes to take control of the lands ceded to him by the king because it’s easier to reward loyal spies with land which belonged to traitors than to sort out any other treachery for yourself and is the sort of backhanded generosity all kings tend to go in for. Władysław doesn’t know much about farming, but fortunately Joanna grew up with Mikołaj’s strictures and there’s always Mikołaj to ask advice from. Władysław does, however, know people, and doesn’t like them very much on the whole.  I apologise in advance for my Falcons who are newly-weds, they wanted the rest of the story but have a bad habit of getting distracted by each other when it’s safe for them to do so.

The assassination attempts are moderately par for the course; Zabiełło’s nastiness more or less anticipated; other nastiness ... well, it’s a village, and Miss Marple would thrive. 

I got out my CD Polish course last night and was disconcerted to discover that most people start on things like dzień dobry and prsepraszam not husarka duma, zlozcie kopie! or szable na temblaki!

 

 

Chapter 1

The morning after their wedding, or to be strictly accurate, close on noon, Władysław Sokołowski and his wife, now Joanna Sokołowska, were considering getting up when a pair of childish trebles were heard outside, singing.

“Hej, hej, hej  Sokoły!”

“That’s us; we are a plurality of Falcons now,” said Władysław. He wrapped a quilt around his waist and went to open the window. Below were two of his new young sisters-in-law.  “Hello, Mariola, hello, Ida, did you want us?”

“We thought you might be ready for some lunch and still hiding from Milena,” said Ida, handing up a basket. “Weren’t we clever to think of fixing up the gymnasium sick-room as a love-nest?”

“Brilliantly,” said Władysław, who thought his brother-in-law would have found it sparse, but that he and Asia, his nickname for Joanna, were quite contented with a palliasse and multiple quilts and cushions on the floor. “We’ll probably wander into the house in the middle of the afternoon, before your mother has a cat at us disappearing. If you can let her know all is good without letting Milena know, we’d be grateful.”

“We had to tell Filka, she was having a cat in case any advice she had given Joasia had gone down badly,” said Ida. “What advice did she give you?” she added as Joanna joined her husband at the window. Joanna blushed.

“None of your business, horrid child! Just about how to manage things around Władek’s missing arm.”

“Oh, is that all,” said Ida. “Well, have a nice lunch and we’ll see you later.”

“I can hardly believe I could be so happy,” said Władysław. “I keep waiting for something terrible to happen.”

“Terrible things happen,” said Joanna. “But nobody can take from either of us that we have each other, and will do so for ever, even if one of us dies. We will be together again in heaven.”

“A greater faith than I have ever had; I strive for it. My love, when you were trying to persuade me that being together was  a mistake, I kept replaying in my head two lines from what I think of as ‘our’ song, Hej, Sokoły.”

“I bet I know which two as well,” said Joanna. “Żal, żal serce płacze, Już jej więcej nie zobaczę.’ ‘Sorry, sorry, heart is weeping, I will never see you again.’ Am I right?”

“You know me altogether too well, my love. Aye, because I couldn’t believe my luck.”

“And I think myself the lucky one.”

They leaned together and Władysław wondered again how she could love him, scarred, missing an arm, and with a rather battered soul. He was not about to complain, however.

Presently they got around to eating.

“That excellent child has put clean clothing in the basket as well,” said Władek. “How thoughtful! She’s put in Bronek’s clothing for you.”

“Ida is one of the best,” said Joanna. “There’s only cold water to wash in here, I’m afraid. There’s a Turkish-style bathhouse, I know, for the men, which was another thing Przemysław brought back with him, for you ...”

“They have private rooms for family,” said Władysław. “I had  some massage there when my arm was first hurt; I was hoping they could ease the stump too.”

“Perhaps if they can, they can teach me too,” said Joanna.

A steam bath and then a plunge in lukewarm water was pleasant.  Joanna watched as an expert young man worked Władysław over.

“My lord should take care of himself better,” said the masseur severely.

“I’ve been too busy,” said Władysław.

“You’ve been putting pressure on the stump, my lord.”

“I got married yesterday; and it’s none of your business.”

“Yes, my lord. I understand, my lord.”

“Damn you,” said Władysław, without acrimony. “Just explain to my page how to ease it, will you?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Joanna learned and assimilated.

As they came out, another man was going in.

“Lord Sokołowski!” he said. “My respect to you for your stamina and skill!”

“I beg your pardon?” said Władysław, a little coldly.

The other man flushed.

“Well, avoiding Lady Milena is a good idea, but other people do use the gymnasium.  And ... well, from what I overheard ... respect.”

“I see,” said Władysław. “A man is inspired by a beautiful woman, but never discusses her.”

“Well, the lady has gone up in the estimation of most of us,” said the other. “I lost a packet over her managing to be passionate. And how!”

Władysław, blushing, considered giving him a blistering set-down, but contented himself with laughing, and shaking his head in confusion over the things men will bet on.

“I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear you lost a wager over it,” he said.

“Good grief! You wouldn’t tell her, would you?”

“I don’t keep anything from my wife,” said Władysław.

He hastened out, steering a deeply indignant Joanna with him.

“Well!  Of all the cheek!” burst out Joanna.

“Yes, but it won’t do the standing of Lady Joanna Sokołowska any harm,” said Władysław. “Really, I should have thought, but ... still better than Milena, eh?”

“Oh yes!” said Joanna, fervently. “Władek, I am as red as a beetroot!”

“Me too,” he agreed.

As promised, they went back to the house. Małgorzata embraced both of them.

“Well, my children, you do have a suite of rooms here, now,” she said, her eyes dancing.

“Did they come with chevaux des Frise?” asked Władysław.

“You are a bad boy,” said Małgorzata. “Do you have any plans?”

“If Asia is agreeable, I’d like to go look at these lands I’ve had given me,” said Władysław. “It will be winter soon, and I want to make sure everywhere is habitable. I know Jędrek is a good man, but I need to see for myself.  Moreover I have to say I worry about more treachery lurking. I may not know much about land, but I know about people, and people who are led by a treacherous snake are inclined themselves to start crawling on their bellies and hissing. They need to have a strong hand take and hold. And I do not want to delay, much as my heart would be happy living here all my life.”

“You are such a good boy,” said Małgorzata. “And Joasia is nodding in agreement at every word.”

“And I would do well to go as his bride not his page,” Joanna said. “I may need some basic salves and physics in case there is no store in the stillroom. Mama, might Mariola and Ida come?”

“No,” said Władysław. “It may not be safe. When we hold control, then they can join us if they wish.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Joanna, disappointed but accepting. He smiled at her.

“Thank you for accepting that,” he said. “I dare not be in a position where one of my harmless sisters is used against me as a hostage. If they try to do it with you ...” he swallowed hard, before going on, “For one thing, they’d be in for a surprise, and for another, you understand the realities of being at war inside our own borders. If they killed you ...” the gold flecks in his eyes disappeared, and the dark green went almost black and flinty.

“They would make a mistake to kill either of us because they would make then of the survivor a foe so implacable and so careless of their own safety that our foes would die a thousand deaths of fear before they died for real screaming,” said Joanna, her own blue eyes as cold as ice. “Mama; I will wear western dress and the slits for the pockets made to reach my swords. I want to put compartments in the pannier in which I can conceal a knife, gunpowder, paper, basic medical supplies, disguise materials, a pistol and poison. If I had been able to have such things when we were stranded in that hell together, I fancy we should have had less trouble.”

Małgorzata nodded.

“We can work on that and consider it for your sisters too,” she said. “Phyllis would certainly wear such. Indeed, she made a makeshift bumroll to hide some clothes when she was escaping from that nasty little man, because her friend Irenka had sewed one on purpose to escape her uncle’s house. And, my love, at that, a bag with drawstrings at each end, might be better as you could wear also under a peasant skirt. We could always make it to go inside a pannier.”

Joanna nodded.

“Thank you for not trying to reassure me that nobody will have designs on us,” she said.

“Oh, you and your Falcon attract trouble like a magnet attracts pins,” said Małgorzata. “Władek, you have the secret compartment in your prosthetic arm.”

“Yes, Mama; and thank you for that,” said Władysław. “I carry a dismantled muff pistol in it, and a tin of charcloth and a candle stub so I can use the flint and steel to kindle a spark. I’ve modified the fingers of my false hand to be able to lock the thumb and middle finger like a vice, to hold things still to make it easier to light a flame and, too, to assemble the pistol.”

“Flint, steel and charcloth, candle stub. Yes, good,” said Joanna. “A leathern bag inside the cloth one, things could go in it but it could carry water.”

Her mother was making a list.

“Sewing needles and a few pins, either for repairs to avoid looking tattered or to alter things slightly,” she said. “And the thread, with a bent pin for fishing at a pinch.”

“Mama, you have hidden depths.” 

Małgorzata’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, your father and I had an exciting enough youth,” she said. “Dark days for Poland under the so-called August III who was even more a marionette of Russia than Stanisław August, and I doubt he shared Tsar Peter’s bed, so at least Stanisław got some fun out of Russia with That Woman.”

“Mama, you are quite as earthy as Filka!”

“Yes, and now you are a married woman, I don’t have to be so careful.  There was the time we were three weeks on the run from Cossacks ... now that was interesting.”

“One way of describing it ... oh!” said Władek. “Now I understand a bit why there  was a bond between our houses.”

“Your father gave us succour and I delivered you alive after your mother was dead,” said Małgorzata, gently. “It’s one reason I’ve always looked on you as one of my children, but I would not use it as emotional blackmail when you were here as a child. I offered to rear you, but your father would have it that a wetnurse would suffice.”

Władysław threw his one good arm around her and wept for what might have been.

“Our children will grow up with Filka’s and Irenka’s, and we will all be there for each other,” said Joanna.  “We will stay here a few days, Mama, and make preparations, and ... Władek, am I over-cautious in suggesting a false bottom to the coach to carry arms and powder and items to make rockets?”

“No, you are my adorable and clever little helpmate,” said Władysław. “Am I overly cautious to suggest asking the smith to line the coach doors with metal between the wooden outer panels and the padded inner?”

“Not in the least; and the sides too. It will make it heavier and slower but that can’t be helped,” said Joanna. “Being shot in an ambush through the very body of the coach is not something I want.”

“Venetian-style blinds for the windows out of strips of metal, painted to look like wood,” said Władysław.

“You children are very creative,” said Małgorzata. “I will set the smith to modifying your coach, and find a woodgrainer.”

“You are the best Mama in the world,” said Joanna.

“And here comes my least favourite sister,” muttered Władysław.

Milena came up to them.

“Joasia,” she said. “Mama.” She did not greet Władysław.

“Why do I get the feeling of being ‘... and wotsisname?’ murmured Władysław. Milena glared at him.

“I still don’t know how you coerced Mama and Papa into letting you marry Joasia,” she said. “I had a most excellent suitor for her lined up, too, for when she was old enough. A man with influence at court, wealthy parents, not a jumped up szlachetka like you. And not dangerous either.””

“My family is as old as any,” snarled Władysław. “Do you know how we lost our money? By running interference against Russia whilst August III was busy trying to ruin the country. My family has been Polish as well as Cossack for hundreds of years, and we gave our all for our loyalty.  Unlike your choice of husband who wet himself and sold a child to a traitor rather than take any honourable course. So which traitor did you wish to sell my Asia to?”

Milena cowered back as if struck.

“It’s a valid question, Milena,” said Joanna, in a hard voice. “Your judgement is flawed; you kept urging me to encourage Mieszko Zabiełło, a traitor, who had tortured my husband.”

“You are mistaken! He ... he may have chosen poor companions, but he would not torture someone!”

“I was there, Milena; I saw what he did to my Falcon, I cut his arm off for him because it was too badly damaged. I had to maim the man I love to save his life. I doubt you’d ever have the moral fortitude to do so! If you even know what love is! I wager if Zabiełło had been sending you sapphires and diamonds you would have assumed that meant he loved you and would have given yourself willingly to him!”

“Are ... are you saying he gave you sapphires and diamonds?” gasped Milena. “But you have never worn them!”

“I put them in a church poor-box,” said Joanna. “Wear the tainted gems of an evil man? Such would have been a betrayal of my Władek had I done so.”

“But ... but how can you say you love him?” demanded Milena. “If he made you shave your head almost, and treated you in so humiliating a way as his page....”

“Oh, Milena!” said Joanna, sinking down on one knee to lean her head against Wladylaw. “No wonder the herbs you take have been so successful; you and Filip plainly didn’t have any idea how to have a full love life.” She peeked up at Władysław. “And you don’t have a clue what to do with a man when on your knees before him.”

Władysław went red.

So did Milena.

“Do you mean he ... you ...” she said.

“We have been sleeping together since summer was dying, yes,” said Joanna. That sleeping was all they had been doing, and some relatively chaste kissing was neither here nor there; neither had been able to sleep without waking screaming in nightmares without the presence of the other. But it amused Joanna to use the usual euphemism in perfect truth.

Milena gazed in horror upon her sister making this admission in front of their mother, and shut her half open mouth with a snap.

“Well! You have made your bed and must lie upon it,” she said “You put a brave face on the activities of the bedroom but perhaps he has not shown you everything he might do.”

She whirled away.

“What does she mean, ‘put a brave face on activities of the bedroom’?” asked Joanna, perplexed. “Have I missed something?”

“No, you have not,” said Małgorzata, grimly. “But I suspect Milena may have done; and I missed her missing it. Poor child!  I will try to get her to talk about it. “