Anna-Maria 9

 sorry to be tardy! I slept long and deep. 

Well, I've started work on the who's who of the series, and gut feeling says to divide it by place rather than alphabetically.  I'll include maps, I have approximate maps in my head, and I'll refer to extant 18th century Polish city and town maps as well. I strongly suspect one European village is much like another, having similar priorities, huddling around a church and common green centre and built anywise.

 

Chapter 9

 

 With the prisoners gone, training might resume more steadily. There was another shuffle of Towarzysze. Jeremi decreed that Yellow tent was now the female tent, with Edyta, Ludwika, Sylwia and added bear, Paweł and Jan would move from Yellow to Green, making it up to full numbers, and the haplessly untidy Kryspin should move into Blue tent where all the scatterbrains might irritate each other.

Rzędzian moved back to the officers’ tent, and Anna-Maria had her single bed behind the curtain.

This meant that only the untidiness of Kryspin and the dilatory nature of Stojan Turtoński were any sort of issue, if one did not count Kuba’s tendency to daydream and the generally forgetful nature of Blue tent.

“Which means we have no more problems than the average green troops,” said Jeremi in relief to Rzędzian and Anna-Maria as he reviewed the day’s happenings.

“And you have the men behind you, too, for having a common enemy in the person of that small-minded and vindictive captain,” said Anna-Maria.

“And I’ve set spies on his crack troops and their training,” said Rzędzian, smugly.

“Do I want to know?” asked Jeremi.

“I happen to get on well with a lot of sutlers, because of being able to put them in the way of good deals,” said Rzędzian, looking innocent. “And one of them has a daughter who is, as you might say, an enthusiastic amateur, and she loves military talk. She also understands it,” he added. “She’s holding out for a colonel as a long term protector, and she believes I can find her one if I don’t manage to finagle myself up to the rank first.”

“More than sufficient information regarding your sexual peccadilloes and I have no prurient interest in your Lotharious occupations,” said Anna-Maria, sternly.

“Is there such a word as Lotharious?” asked Rzędzian.

“There is now,” said Jeremi. “And shame on you for corrupting a page of tender years!”

“Your page is perfectly at home with smut, grime and the seamier side of life,” said Rzędzian, cheerfully. “But I accept the rebuke for her youth and unsullied exterior.”

“Jaracz! You insult her,” said Jeremi, angrily. “Look at the child; she is shocked at your imputations!”

Rzędzian flushed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, only that she’s imperturbable,” he said. “Sorry, my lady.”

“Apology accepted,” said Anna-Maria, who had been somewhat upset by his hasty words. She blinked back the tears that had risen in the thought that Rzędzian had mistaken her easy camaraderie, encouraged by the Sokołowscy, for loose morals.  Seemingly he had not meant that, only that she might accept the seamier side of life. Jeremi was a most upright and proper young man and Anna-Maria hated the thought that he might also be mistaken in her. Apparently he was not, and she gave him a look of gratitude.

 

 

oOoOo

 

“Oh no,” said Klemens Młocki when he looked up to see Mikołaj’s cheeky grin as his secretary and wife introduced the szlachcic.

“Should I be hurt?” said Mikołaj.

“I don’t have anyone in need of a page,” said Młocki. Mikołaj laughed heartily.

“Oh, I’m not palming one off on you; she ran away to be with her beloved in his poczet.  It’s her father who’s the problem.  I’ve got a nice little conspiracy to murder case for you, also fraud, and probably other crimes.”

“What, the Upiór?” asked Młocki, giving Anna-Maria’s father the nickname by which he had become known.

“No, as far as I know, all he’s guilty of is being a very bad parent, heavy-handed and bad tempered. I don’t even think he’s a child-spoiler, just indifferent to the age of the womb he wants to fill. No, this is the uncle of one of young Skrzetuski’s towarzysze, who has been duped into thinking he is beholden to his uncle rather than owning his own very nice little plot of land – I’ve spoken to the lad and he owns thirty or so włóki of good land. It runs next to Wolski’s I believe, and that’s a nice little plot.”

“You magnate you, referring to Wolski’s place as a ‘nice little plot,” said Młocki, who now knew Mikołaj well enough to tease him.

Mikołaj, who counted his land in several hundred włoki, grinned. 

“Now there’s no need to be insulting, Klemens,” he said. “Anyone would think I was Kazimierz’s sister’s Redboots.”

Klemens Młocki stared pointedly at Mikołaj’s footwear which was red, nicely worn in, but definitely not old boot tops on new boots.

“No, of course not,” he murmured with heavy irony.

His wife came back in at that moment with tea and strawberry cake. Mikołaj brightened.

“Every man ought to have a female secretary and marry her,” he said. “Thank you, Pani Młocka.”

“You’re a flirt, my lord,” said Stefania, severely.

“What, are you jealous my winning ways will seduce your husband?” said Mikołaj.

“I’m not even going to try to enter word games with you, my lord,” said Stefania. “I know when to give up gracefully.”

“You got lucky with her,” said Mikołaj, approvingly as she went out. “I am glad my daughter stole the Hulewiczowie for the Raven Banner. I like having Ravens in law.”

He got down to business, and laid out the documents for Młocki.

“There’s enough here to bring him in,” said Młocki.

“And I’ll leave my lawyers going over his books with a fine tooth comb on behalf of the boy,” said Mikołaj. “If you’re happy to work together on this?”

“Oh, totally,” said Młocki. “You might want to warn young Skrzetuski that he’s been set up to fail; I was going to write to him, but as you’re here you can pass it on in person.”

“He figured it out, but it’s good to have confirmation,” said Mikołaj. “What did you know?”

“Masked ball,” said Młocki. “The captain who replaced Wolski is a dick. All spit and polish with a swagger stick so far up his arse it speaks for him when he opens his mouth. Anyway, he is relatively new szlachta, his family provided money during the Great Northern War and the king ennobled them. So of course the little twat feels inadequate, and there’s Skrzetuski, who is of the Jastrzębiec Banner which is attested to the early fourteenth century and reputed to be more than three hundred years older than that.  So the twat is intimidated to start off with. Then the boy, who is as open and honest as the day is long, with the same amount of tact of any boy his own age, tried to help the twat with advice.  So, I heard Captain Koczolski crowing that he had managed to get hold of every reject towarzysz in the army to wish onto the boy, who would make him look stupid in wargames in front of one Kazimierz Ogiński, personal representative to Prince Michał Ogiński, the Grand Hetman of Lithuania, who happens to be distantly related to the Pułkownik here.”

“Little beast,” said Mikołaj. “The lads call him Captain Kokotski, so crowing is the right word for Captain Cockerel.  I believe they have spies on him, but if you can let me know anything, I’ll pass it on.”

“As I understand it, the Cockerel’s little chickens will hold some supposed forward point, he called it a salient, and it is up to the new recruits to do their best to take it,” said Młocki.  “I’ll see if I can get you any maps. I spoke to him for half an hour and I wanted to kick him. Mariola ran a message to him and he called her ‘woman’ and told her to get out of the barracks as he didn’t tolerate camp followers.”

Mikołaj winced.                                                                       

“My little girl might be the quiet one, but I wager she didn’t stand still for that.”

Młocki chuckled.

“No, I had a first hand report from one of Skrzetuski’s friends, she kicked his ankles out from under him, hands under the knees to hasten the fall, kicked him in the cods and asked if he wanted to fight her, her husband, or her father or if he preferred her brother-in-law. She listed who you all were and he was wetting himself. He apologised. Stupid little bastard.”

“Not that stupid; he apologised,” grinned Mikołaj. “That’s my girl; tip ‘em up, kick ‘em in the assets. I taught them all that one as soon as they could walk steadily.”

“It works very well,” said Młocki. “You might want to show your face around; if he’s intimidated, it won’t upset me.”

Mikołaj chuckled in delight.

“I love intimidating bad officers,” he said.

 

oOoOo

 

“Hello, precious,” said Mikołaj, to the new captain. “I heard you were suicidal enough to insult my daughter, but have enough brains to grovel sufficiently as you’re still alive. Don’t make a habit of it. Mariola is such a sweet, quiet, shy little thing compared to most of my daughters, and I’m sure she’d be upset for almost two minutes if she had to kill you. Bye-bye!” and he patted the man on the cheek.

The company, who had witnessed this, considered the vicious drilling they received for the relief of the captain’s temper was probably worth it.

 

oOoOo

 

Mariola rode over to Raven’s Knoll, suitably escorted, and spent some time with her mother and little sisters, showing off her son, and left him with them to take dispatches to Jeremi.

“Hello, Jeremi, pet,” she said.

“You’ve been spending time with your father,” said Jeremi.

“Why, yes, pet, I believe I have,” said Mariola.  “He’s been annoying your cockerel a bit more in follow up to me tipping him up and kicking him in the assets. You might want to teach your lads that one, it winds a sentry and he can be marked stabbed before he gets the breath to holler. I got you the battle plans.”

“How the devil did you manage that?” asked Jeremi.

“Got the pułkownik drunk and went through his pockets for spare notes,” said Mariola. “He’d just received a letter from the Hetman’s man, who is judging it ... you said something?”

“I choked in horror,” said Jeremi.

“Nonsense!” said Mariola, bracingly. “Your lads and lasses will do just fine. All they have to do is win. And win decisively. You have the maps of the terrain there;  crush the cockerel and his chickens, my lads.”

She was cheered.

“Um, why did you need to assault the captain?” asked Jeremi.

“I ran a message from city hall from Młocki, and I happened to be dressed as a female to do it, and he basically told me to get out or be put in the stocks as he didn’t tolerate whores around his men.”

“And he’s still alive?” said Jeremi.

“Well, after I tipped him up, I asked him which of my family he wanted to fight for calling a member of the Raven Banner and respectable wife of the substarosta a whore. He grovelled enough that I had to let him off. I think Młocki gave my father a censored version of what the little dunghill dragoon called me, or he wouldn’t be alive. Papa is very protective, especially of those of us who are the quiet and shy ones.”

“So I should hope,” said Jeremi. “If he calls any of my female towarzysze bad names you may be sure I’ll be fighting him.”

“And call him ‘precious,’” said Mariola. “Papa did.  Most people who get called ‘precious’ by Mikołaj Krasiński tend to go rather to pieces very rapidly afterwards. It’s his first warning not to irritate him enough to perform Hellish Polish Quarte.”

“I’d love to see it demonstrated,” said Jeremi.

“Draw then, and we’ll give your boys a treat,” said Mariola. “I heard you’re nearly as good as me, so it should be fun.”

She was cheered again, and Jeremi shrugged.

It would do his ragged band no harm to see a couple of experts at the sabre at work. Jeremi had no false modesty, and he knew he was good. But he had never performed Hellish Polish Quarte.

He was also resigned to quiet and shy Raven women being more martial than most people who considered themselves swordsmen.

It was fun, and the towarzysze were gazing with awe on a pair of expert exponents of swordplay. And when Jeremi recognised the inevitable moves, he leaned in to hope to get a reciprocal strike as Mariola’s sabre inexorably turned to come up under his ribs. She turned it to lay the back of the sword against him, and his sabre brushed her cheek.

“And the expert recognises the inevitable and went for the neck strike in hopes of a mutual kill,” said Mariola, to the watching towarzysze. “Your lieutenant is good. Now, I’d use Cossack dancing to get out of the way of Hellish Polish Quarte, but I was trained by The Falcon. As was, er, Adam,” she indicated Anna-Maria.

“I’m still learning,” said Anna-Maria. “But a back-flip might work.”

“It has done before now,” said Mariola. “Right, I’m off; have fun, and don’t rule out using underpowered bombs filled with fish guts and a little note saying anyone who smells fishy is now dead. Or you can use spangles, and anyone sparkling is dead, but fish guts are almost as affectionate as sparkles, and a lot more offensive.”

“Do I want to know?” asked Jeremi.

“Seweryn.  One of our governesses,” said Mariola, with a gurgle of mirth. “Fish guts and sparkles.”

 

oOoOo

 

Mariola collected small Lew Bystrzanowski from his aunts and grandmother and went on to see her favourite sister, Joanna, at The Mews, and meet Milena’s new daughter. Milena and Joachim plainly adored small Joanna, who was named for her aunt. Joachim’s and Milena’s assorted stepchildren also plainly approved.

Mariola stayed a couple of nights, and went home, well satisfied with having stirred a nice hornet’s nest for the cockerel.

 

oOoOo

 

“Right, I think we’ll get into pairs to learn how Mariola tips people up,” said Jeremi. “And I wager my page kno...OOF!”

Anna-Maria bent, pulled his ankles towards her and tipped him onto his back and set a heel on his crotch.

“If you dance there too hard I will be unhappy,” said Jeremi.

“So will I,” said Anna-Maria.  “I want you in full working order when we get that far.”

“Just as well,” said Jeremi. “Well, that looks as if the bigger they come, the harder they fall; so give it a go, lads and lasses, and I wish you a pleasant trip.”

 

The practice went enthusiastically; the girls were particularly keen to learn how to be able to neutralise the threat of a large man. 

“Do you think she was joking about bombs with fish guts or sparkles in?” said Jeremi to Anna-Maria.

“I doubt she was joking, my lord,” said Anna-Maria. “The Ravens take anything to do with explosives and pyrotechnics very seriously.  And if we are to be involved in any night battles, some Chinese flares on silk umbrellas to descend slowly might be in order. I think we should take advantage of being here, where rocketry and artillery are taken seriously, as well as to use The Hill.”

“You know, Adam, I think you have a good point,” said Jeremi. “I am finally beginning to believe that we can win.”

“We can, and we shall,” said Anna-Maria. “And I will walk behind you with a laurel crown, whispering, ‘remember, my lord, you are only human’ and trying not to think how much more useful the bay leaves would be in cooking.”

“Well, that’s brought me down to earth far better than Caesar’s slave muttering about mortality on Triumphs,” laughed Jeremi. “One has the vision of being put in a big pot and simmered with the laurel crown and sundry vegetables.”