I don't have a working title for this one yet. It covers some of the same ground as in Dance of Ravens but from Mariola's POV. Bear with me if I made a mess of any of that [though I think most of the mess was in the re-write when I extracted this one to give Mariola her story]
Mariola takes her turn to be a page with Kazimierz and is engaged in a police procedural which mops up some more loose ends.
I'm not sure if this counts as book four of the Dance Trilogy perhaps as Dance of Justice. It wanted to be written so I wrote it ... I relied heavily on Kitowicz so I hope I've extracted fact from irony.
Chapter 1
“Papa,” said Mariola, nibbing one long silver-gilt plait, “It seems to work, but are there any nice
ones left? And do I really want to be a boy, and am I too clumsy for anyone to
want?”
“What are you talking about, my dear?” asked Mikołaj Krasiński.
“Being a page to a live one,” said Mariola. “Irenka got Wojciech, and Filka got our
Seweryn, and Joanna has her Falcon. Ida is going to school with half of
Wojciech’s wards and etceteras. It helped learning to dance with Władek, though
he is scarily intense. And I have been shadowing Joanna for years doing sabre
drill in secret. We worked out together too when she wanted a partner. All I’m
good at is music and not if anyone is looking at me because my fingers all
become left feet.”
“Let us leave it until after Christmas, hmm?” said Mikołaj. “It’s not
even St. Mikołaj’s day yet.”
“Very well, Papa,” said Mariola. It was fair enough. She was not yet
as old as Joanna had been when she had become Władysław’s page.
It was a glorious Mikołajki; Mariola received a violin laid by her
shoes and music for it, something she had yearned for, but which only Joanna
had known. How special her sister had become to her!
Shortly after this, Mariola had a letter from Joanna.
“My dear sister,
You need to know how much of a
sham Milena’s marriage was. Filip was unfaithful to her, and sired children out
of wedlock, and also was cruel to her. You do not need to know all the details,
but the horrid creature beat her; and one reason she was mean to you was
because she was terrified of what he would do to you if he found out how much
you managed to break. She took the blame for many of our misdeeds, and I feel
so ashamed of not knowing.
Anyway, she is steeling herself to go and sort
out Filip’s holdings and seeing how many bastards he left. Uncle Adam
Brzeziński is looking into things, and will advise her, but she will need a
chaperone as she is taking Joachim Jędrowski as an escort, and we wondered if
you would like an outing and to be her chaperone accordingly.
Your loving sister,
Joanna.”
“Mama! Look
at what Joanna has written!” said Mariola. “I had no idea that Filip was such a
tick; I mean, I never liked him but I did not know he beat Milena, nor that she
took the blame for some of the things I broke. I wish Świnka had not killed him
so casually so that Sewek could have eviscerated him to strangle him with his
own guts.”
Małgorzata
laughed.
“I should
just have turned all you girls over to Papa to train, shouldn’t I?” she said.
“I had some idea that if you didn’t have to be martial, you would have peaceful
lives. I should just have acknowledged that I rather enjoyed the unsettled
nature of our courtship, Steppe winters and learning swordplay and all.”
“Mama! Can
you use a sword?”
“Just because
I don’t follow the sabre drills daily doesn’t mean I can’t do them,” said
Małgorzata. “And goodness knows, you’re all talented enough to make it
worthwhile. Do you want to go to be Milena’s chaperone?”
“Yes, Mama, I
think I do; it will help to show her there are no hard feelings. And hope to
forge a better relationship with Milena.
We should be back by Christmas. I’m the big one at home now so I might
as well be useful; and it will be good for Barbara.”
“She’ll leave
it all to Ida,” said Małgorzata.
Mariola
giggled.
“Send Ida to
help Joasia with her orphans,” she said.
“You know, I
might,” said Małgorzata. “I want all my girls to grow up strong and happy.”
“Joanna could
cut away the growths
in you, that you were talking to Papa about in you, that you were talking to Papa about,” said Mariola.
“I am afraid
to take the risk while Elżbieta and Katarzyna are still small,” sighed
Małgorzata not pretending to misunderstand her.
“Think about
it, Mama; you’ve been hiding pain for a while now. It could kill you before you make up your
mind.”
“I had no
idea you knew.”
“Filka
pointed it out; I’ve been watching you,” said Mariola. “I
remember that you took a growth out of our farrier’s wife, and made notes in
your commonplace book about it. I filched
it and had a look at the watercolour. I wish
you would talk to Joasia. She has the fortitude few people have.”
“I ... will
consider it. I do not want her left with guilt if I die of it.”
“Joasia’s too
sensible to carry guilt for something she can’t help. She’d feel guilty if she
didn’t do it though, if she knew. I’ve kept it from her.”
“After
Christmas then; I’ll talk to her then.”
Mariola said
no more, but she planned to say a lot more to Joanna. She went in search of
Ida.
“Hey, Ida,
how’d you like to help Magdalena look after the eyasses at the Mews?”
Ida
considered.
“Eyass is the
word used for a falcon fledgling taken from its nest to train, isn’t it?” she
said.
“Yes,” said
Mariola.
“How very
appropriate for acquired Zabiełłowie chicks,” said Ida.
“Papa,” said
Mariola, “I want Joasia to cut out the growths in Mama, and I have a sense of
urgency about it.”
Mikołaj
blinked.
“You are one
of our more sensitive girls; if you have a sense of urgency, I won’t argue,” he
said. “Should I send her to France or England where they have the most advanced
surgery?”
“I think it
might kill her,” said Mariola. “I am going to talk Joasia into coming to do it
the day after Mama sends Ida and me to collect Milena.”
“I tend to
forget that my quiet girl has a will of steel,” said Mikołaj. “I ... will make sure your mother is ready. I
... I will be there for you all.”
“I know,
Papa; and I’m scared too,” said Mariola.
***
Joanna gave a
boyish yell of delight when Mariola and Ida turned up.
“What, both
of you to chaperone Milena?” she asked.
“No, I’m here
to help with the little ones,” said Ida.
“And I want
to talk to you seriously, Joasia,” said Mariola.
Joanna took
one look at her sister’s face and yelled for Mestek.
“Show my
sister Ida around and introduce her to people.,” she said. “Mariola, walk with
me.”
Mariola was
nothing loath.
“It’s Mama,”
she said. “She’s sicker than she’s been letting
on.”
Joanna went
white.
“And I put
her through so much worry ...”
“Never mind
that; she enjoyed rising to the occasion. Only have you got the fortitude to
cut into her and excise growths? I heard her talking to Papa about how it feels
as though she is pregnant with something growing, but she knows it is not, I’m
not sure how she knows that.”
“Hellfire,
damnation and steel!” said Joanna. “I ... yes, I can do it. It won’t be easy.
Will ... can you help? Basia can’t help
from her wheeled chair; Milena probably will.
Władysław is steady. The difficult thing is not damaging the bladder and
ureter on one side or the bowel on the other. Is it ... yes, it’s necessary or
you wouldn’t ask.”
“Mama does a
good job of hiding that she is in pain and that she is so tired,” said Mariola.
“But I’ve been watching her.” She pulled a face. “She wanted to wait until
after Christmas so as not to spoil it for everyone.”
“Mikołajki is
over. In this blessed tide of Advent I feel I would have more support from the
Mother of Poland, who knew the discomfort of pregnancy and birth. We’ll do it
tomorrow. I’ll send back word.”
“I thought
you’d feel like that so I spoke to Papa about it. He’s expecting us. You ... are you going to
tell Ida?”
“I’d have
wanted to be told.”
They set off
early, and with the aid of Małgorzata’s own maid, Ala, who helped her with
surgery, they swabbed down every surface of Małgorzata’s hospital with rosemary
oil. The big, heavy table for surgery
was set, and the skylight uncovered for maximum natural light. Sharp knives had
been boiled and sat in rosemary solution. Pure gold thread to use inside also
lay in dishes with rosemary oil. Mariola helped lay things out. She would be
there for Joasia and would learn from her.
Mikołaj
carried Małgorzata to the operating room. He was saying,
“I have
rarely given you orders as your lord, Gosia, my love. I take full
responsibility for this. I don’t trust anyone more than I trust Joasia if you
can’t do it yourself; and as you’re going to be off your head on wódka and
haszysz tea you won’t be much good at surgery.”
“Mikołaj... I
don’t want to leave you and the children ...”
“Gosia, I’ve
watched you wasting away and over the last few months it’s been more profound.”
“Kiss me, my
hussar, and hold my hand.”
He kissed
her.
“I’ll be with
you, always, even if there comes a time we are briefly separated in this life,”
he said. “You’ll come through this; you are too strong not to do so.”
“Yes, my
lord.”
“Away with
you, woman; you’re not meek and mild. I recall it was you who proposed to me.
We’d known each other about six hours.”
“You said
yes, though.”
He laid her
on the table.
“Damn this
table is cold,” said Małgorzata. “I haven’t had enough sympathy for my own
victims.”
Seweryn was
there, looking haggard. Phyllis held his hand tightly.
“Mama Raven,
you are not going to give up,” said Phyllis.
“Think of all those grandchildren you are waiting to meet.”
Małgorzata
smiled at her daughter-in-law.
“Quite right,
dear daughter,” she said. “But take Seweryn away. He’ll be underfoot.”
“And likely
to pass out. I know,” said Phyllis. “Kiss Mama, Sewek and come away to organise
the little ones for the day.”
“How long?”
said Seweryn.
“If I haven’t
done it by midday it won’t get done,” said Joanna, who was white. “Go away,
Sewek. This is the job of Mama’s big girls. Unless you want me to operate on
you to make you one.”
“I’m going,”
said Seweryn, hastily, kissing his mother.
Phyllis also kissed her, and murmured something in her ear.
Małgorzata
spat out a laugh which ended on a dirty chuckle.
“Thank you,
my English daughter,” she said. “I needed that.” Mariola wondered what she had
said, and decided she did not want to know.
She handed
her mother the cup of haszysz tea well-laced with poppy draught. Małgorzata made a face but drank it down.
Małgorzata was as close to unconscious as
could be.
“Aren’t there
things which can numb the skin too?” said Mariola.
“You’re
thinking of wolfsbane and that’s not a good idea,” said Joanna. “The smallest
amount on the inside is deadly. So it’s a bad idea. I am going to need lengths of gold wire when
I say ‘ligature’ to tie off blood vessels.
It’s going to be messy and horrible, and if you are going to pass out,
please go away now.”
“I’ll
manage,” said Mariola.
“Strap in
Mama’s mouth, Papa,” said Joanna. “Władysław, Milena, ready to draw back skin
and hold things out of the way.”
“It’s times
like this I wish I had both arms,” said Władysław.
“You manage
more with one hand’s sensitive fingers than most with two,” said Joanna. “Besides you are my talisman and you keep me
calm.”
Mariola had
read all she could on the subject, and there were records from the fourteenth
century of successful caesarean births in which mother and baby had both lived.
This would be not unlike that, surely.
“Mother of Poland be with a daughter and
mother this day,” said Joanna, and made the incision. Mariola echoed the prayer
in her heart.
It was hard
not to feel nauseous at the amount of blood and at the revolting things which
were inside the human body. The obscene
looking purple and pink mass though was not like anything in any of the
drawings in the books on anatomy which their mother had made and variously
acquired, some of which Małgorzata was a little cagey about.
Mariola did
not interrupt Joanna, but she noticed her sister crossing herself at the sight.
She was barking out commands about holding this, passing that, and Mariola made
herself forget the horror, and become an instrument of Joanna’s clever hands.
She realised in some shock that Joanna planned to cut out the whole womb and
the growths with it as the safest way of removing the growths.
“Ligature,” Joanna snapped. Mariola handed her
the gold thread.
Tying off,
cutting away, carefully, methodically Joanna worked, and Władysław mopped sweat
from her brow with a clean towel. The
obscene growth did not seem to be
attached anywhere else. Mariola and Milena were Joanna’s hands for her,
pinching on arteries, holding away the ureter for her to reach underneath
it. And then Joanna was lifting the
misshapen womb out, and washing out the
body cavity with rosemary-infused wódka.
Mariola held
the skin for Joanna to close up their mother’s belly, and was in time to ease
her sister to the ground as Joanna passed out.
Mama must be
lifted onto a narrow hospital bed, and Joanna onto another.
“Papa,
Władek, you must just do the best you can to cuddle them when they come to,”
said Mariola.
“Yes, my
lord,” said Mikołaj, his eyes twinkling at her.
“Oh, Papa!”
said Mariola.
Mama was not
out of the woods.
“Milena,
shall we go to the chapel when we have cleaned up?” said Mariola.
“A good
idea,” agreed Milena. “And we will take that ... thing ... to the furnace to be
burned.”
A couple of
hours later, the Sokołowscy joined Milena and Mariola in the chapel.
“Thank you!”
said Mariola.
“The Queen of
Poland guided my hands,” said Joanna. “And Mama’s recovery is in her hands.”
“And so we
all pray,” said Mariola. “Milena and I can leave tomorrow now without worrying,
because either Mama will get better, or God needs her more than we do.”
“Or I made a
mistake, but I don’t think I did,” said Joanna. “I am not sure I remember much
of it though.”
Mariola
slipped an arm through her sister’s arm.
As Małgorzata
was a better colour by the next day, Milena and Mariola left with Joachim, who
drove over to collect them, without any qualms.
