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Dance of Fledglings 9

 Yesterday was a bad day, but I am working towards submitting Elopement of Convenience, Ring in the True, The Cossack and Dance of Fire. 

Chapter 9

 

Warszawa was loud to the ears of country girls! Staś, returning to school, affected not to notice, but his siblings clung to each other or to Justyna in horror at the almost physical assault upon the senses. Carts and carriages rumbled their inexorable way through the streets, the clopping of hoofs on the road indicating the speed of each vehicle, here the heavy plodding of a big dray horse with a heavy load, there the fast trot of some young szlachcic in a modern, light, French vehicle, weaving in and out of the other traffic. Dogs barked, and as they passed the cattle market the lowing of more cows than any of them had ever seen together at one time, and the stench of much churned mud with faeces made them quail.  Street vendors cried their wares, and carters, trying to pass each other down too narrow a street, swore and cursed each other, neither willing to back down and attempt to back his overloaded horse and its burden. A donkey brayed, and somewhere a dog howled in pain, whether from a human kicking or whipping it or being hit by a cart could not be gauged.

“I don’t like it much,” said Wiktoria, in a small voice.

“It is loud and intimidating,” said her father. “You get somewhat used to the noise. We are staying in a relatively quiet street; The Falcon has been kind enough to loan us his house, so long as I make a catalogue of anything  needed by the skeleton staff there. I imagine my good children will make your own beds, and that Bartosz will help carry water for washing.”

He was answered by murmurs of assent. Bartosz was proud of his strength and ability to be a real help. At fourteen, he was well-grown for his age, and could pass as older. Klementyna was also proud of her ability to manage a home, as she had done for her father before they had moved into the school.

Staś left them at the door, hefting his pack of clothes, and went off whistling. He was keen to be back with his fellows at his own school.

The footman left in charge read Władysław Sokołowski’s letter, and bowed the family into the house.

They had soon sorted out rooms, and started exploring.  Klementyna gave a squeal of delight.

“There’s a music room!” she cried. This was enough to bring Bartosz, Zofia, Hieronim, and August running; Wiktoria, Karolina, and Dominik were less musical, though they enjoyed it well enough. Justyna followed them more sedately.

“Lord Sokołowski told me that he trusts you to treat the instruments with respect, and hopes you will enjoy playing them,” she said. “With one exception; the lute on the cushion is forbidden save to any skilled on the instrument. It belonged to his ancestor, and has sentimental attachment. Lord Sokołowski hopes that one of his own children will be a worthy inheritor of the instrument. You may look through the music book compiled by Jur Sokołowski, and copy to use anything you like; some of it is his own composition.”

“Oh my!” said Klementyna. “No wonder it is off limits, it must be wonderful to have so illustrious an ancestor.”

Justyna laughed.

“Jur and his wife were the ones who began the two-fisted fighting tradition of the family,” she said. “They were at Jasna Góra.”

The children were respectfully silent at that. The miraculous defeat of the Swedes besieging the monastery of Jasna Góra was legendary.

They were to spend three days in Warszawa, one of them shopping, a fashionable outfit each for the older girls and Bartosz, fabric, and toys for the younger ones as well as their own musical instruments. The pay of schoolteachers was not considerable, but there was Jan’s income from his land, and he had managed to save enough to give his daughters a dowry as well as seeing Staś through school and outfit him.  Staś was now assured a place in the Ulan unit in Większy-Bydlin, if he wished it, or with the unit of Ukrainian Ulans under Bazyli Tataryn but he would still have to be provided with horses. Jan was hoping to purchase a Raven-bred horse for his son.

After making various purchases, the family would indulge themselves in sight-seeing; going round the public parts of the Royal Palace, and looking at the grand palaces of magnates and wealthy noblemen.

“Papa,” said Zofia, quietly, “Are you doing this just to brag at Eugenia?”

“Partly,” said Jan. “I don’t want her crowing at any of my little girls, and I will be throwing a ball in Dobrepola. And by the way, if she tried comparing land size, her father owns four włóka and rents three from me; our five włoka are not all of our lands.”

“It’s then about a quarter of what The Falcon owns?”

 “Yes, and he has income from land rented to Olek as well, which does well with his honey,” said Jan. “And he has had various awards from the king, which he has invested in business rather than land. The Falcon is wealthier even than the amount of land he has, because the king was generous to a man who lost an arm in his service.  Which is not to be spoken of, and I would not tell you if I did not think you have learned both discretion and perhaps a need to know the true value of some things in life. But also you need to know the truth about my own lands.”  He hesitated. “Your experiences are what is making me make this trip, in truth,” he said. “If the Kociełłówna girl is such a liar and user, it makes me concerned about the peasants in the hamlet he rents. Such callous disregard would displease me if he is abusing the trust I have placed into him to oversee my lands properly. And if he is not treating my peasants well, then the rental agreement will be terminated as of the quarter day on Michaelmas, which will fall while we are there. Lord Joachim has sent for one of his men who has understanding of land management, who is undertaking a survey for me while we are in Warszawa. I have also sent word to a cousin of mine, with whom I have held desultory correspondence, who was thinking of mustering out of the army and looking for work.  We grew up together, so I know he is a fair, just man, and I was thinking of making him my steward over all. He has no prospects, so if he does not remain a career officer, he must rely on relatives, and it would be in his interests to do well by the land.”

“Like Bartosz,”

“Yes, like Bartosz,” said Jan. “Though I fancy Staś is keen on a lifetime career in the military, so Bartosz at least will likely have the option of being his steward. I was wondering about settling some money on each of you, and letting you invest it.”

“But what would we invest it in?” asked Zofia.

“Well, you were all taken by the hats you got in that pokey little shop we visited this morning,” said Jan. “The shop is rented by three townswomen with limited dowry, who decided to pool their resources, and make millinery.  Putting money into the venture would improve its chances of success, and such girls might then either buy out your share when established,  or continue to take a share.”

“Oh, I see,” said Zofia. “So find people who are talented but who need some more capital.”

“Yes,” said her father.

Zofia thought.

“Weren’t some of the child thieves peasants, exploited by that awful man?”

“Yes, most of them.”

“And they’re in an orphanage as well ... perhaps funding some of them when they have been taught a trade?”

“That’s my good girl.  Or young people who are struggling, to prevent them becoming thieves, because The Falcon will see those he has taken responsibility for put in good places.”

“I will need help to know what to do!”

“Yes, of course you will,” said Jan. “And I’m just mooting the idea for now. We’ll find a lawyer to help all of you and to find people deserving of investment. We’ve had a hand up; and we can pass it on, as I’ve been promised help to outfit your brothers with second hand, but excellent quality, kit, and a horse at a good price.”

“We have been helped in so many ways, Papa,” said Zofia, soberly, realising that she owed the Falcons perhaps more than most, for Lady Sokołowska’s timely intervention in her bad behaviour before it became irredeemable.

Being one of those girls who were in Paulina Piekarska’s class, her thoughts went to that difficult maiden.

Paulina had made some pointed comments to her about how a stepmother would be a stumbling block in her life, likely to get her two older sisters married off as soon as possible, and then her and Karolina. Karolina had laughed at Paulina, but it had been Paulina’s comments which had exacerbated Zofia’s own bad behaviour.

Zofia wrote a letter.

Dear Lady Joanna,

You ought to keep an eye on whether Paulina is needling Alojza, because Alojza is a bit like me and easily rattled. I don’t mean this as telling tales, but while we’re away, it might happen. I don’t know how to help Paulina like you helped me.

Zosia.

 

 

Joanna read the letter, frowned over the sentence about not telling tales, and decided that Zofia was genuine. Insecurity had made her spiteful but unlike Paulina she had been genuinely interested in Joanna’s own story, and appalled by it. Nothing wrong with that little maiden that removing the mote in her eye regarding her so-called friend had not cured. Paulina’s mote was a sense of grievance which could not be thoroughly denied. She was an orphan, and her father and grandfather had behaved disgracefully.  For both to have the same woman as a mistress was bad enough, and mitigated by not knowing about each other, but either could have asked her to marry him, and Paulina’s father, with children the same sort of age as his lover’s offspring, should certainly have insisted on regularising the affair.

Though nobody could have guessed that his father would murder the poor woman by a vicious abortion attempt. Joanna picked up Bronisława, the child whose conception had caused all this furore, and hugged her. Bronisława was as much her baby in many ways as Małgorzata, their little Gosia. And Pauline had refused to have anything to do with her infant half-sister, though Idzik and Emil were keen to know her well, as were Judyta and her siblings. Alexandra, now married, called in to see the baby, and so did Ksawery; and if Krzesimir was busy training with the White Ravens, he mentioned sending a kiss to Bronisława on the rare occasions he wrote. Come to think of it, Judyta had been spending less time with the baby; it was probably easier for the easy-going and gentle Judyta to go along with Paulina’s demands.

Perhaps Olek should decide not to have Paulina over Christmas to spoil a family Christmas for his own kin. She would have a word with him; perhaps he might suggest taking baby Władysław over to see Bronisława and Gosia too, and ask if the girls wanted to come, and see what transpired from that.

No, it wasn’t fair on young Gryfina to have the responsibility of Paulina as well as the three adopted Zabiełłowie, Mieczyk, Juruś, and Oleńka, in addition to Judyta, and her own small son.  After all, the indolent Dorota would not be likely to turn a hand to help with any but her own much doted-on son, Adam. She was too self-centred to care about nieces and nephews.

Joanna conveniently forgot that she was not much older than Gryfina and had happily taken responsibility for  all the Zabiełłowie bastards. It was, to her, the obligation of the successor of the former lord, and thus, too, of his lady, and no question about doing it.

The White Ravens reared all their offspring with a very stern sense of duty.

 

Olek turned up with his three adopted offspring, his wife and their baby, to let the infants be together, and for the three older ones to play with Mestek.  The babies were not old enough to take much notice of each other, but it had been an excuse.

“I am not happy that Paulina and Justyna expressed no interest in seeing Bronisława,” he said.

“Tell me, Olek, did one of them speak first about that and the other agree?” asked Joanna.

“Now you mention it, Paulina said she had no desire to see the baby who had led to her father’s death, and Judyta paused and then nodded. I do not like Paulina, so I am falling over myself backwards to be fair to her.”

“I don’t think it’s helping her right now; she’s taking an attitude that she is hard done by, and anything done for her is only her right due. I think you are going to have to show her that actions have consequences, and tell her that you do not like how her attitude poisons Judyta’s view of her innocent half-sister. I think, though she’s going to be a pain in the arse here, you might do well to refuse to have her for Christmas.”

“I wasn’t looking forward to having Moping Marzanna at Christmas and was chiding myself for being Unchristian,” said Olek. “Honestly, she does look as cheerful and wholesome half the time as a Marzanna effigy after it’s been burned and drowned on March twenty-first.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t dispute it,” sighed Joanna. “I’ve told her my history and she almost sneered at me. I itched to slap her, but it never solves anything.”

“Who will she upset over Christmas here?”

“Nobody; the Białkowscy don’t care any more, the Hulewiczowie are going home for Christmas, and she doesn’t dare twit any of the boys or any of the older girls. If she starts on Alicja, Alicja will hang one on her, and Mestek won’t stay silent. Any more than he will if she tries it with Maja. Tekla is a satisfied and happy child, and there are no more Morscy. And she has no call to be with the younger ones, except Bronisława, and they are all supervised pretty closely too.”

Olek nodded.

“Well, then, I have an unpleasant task when this holiday is over, but it needs to be done. And I will make it clear that it is her behaviour which has made her outstay her welcome.”

“Thanks, Olek.  And I see your eyes straying to the veranda where the children are doing something noisy, and if you want to go and play with them, Gryfina and I will talk babies while our little boys go off to play.”

“Wench,” said Olek, without heat. He kissed his wife tenderly and went out. “Now, Hetman, any chance you need anyone else?” he said as he left.

Joanna laughed.

“And it’s how he stays so young,” she said.

“Yes, and I plan to keep him that way for as long as I have him,” said Gryfina.