the starosta's assistants 12, final

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

As Sylwia had surmised, most masqueraders just thought that Ursyn had a particularly fine costume. He had a splendid time, dancing with a selection of ladies, who had no idea, since their own masks obscured their own vision somewhat, that they were dancing with a real bear. Except Barbara Skrzetuska, who eagerly joined a gavotte with the bear, who was quite capable of performing that stately, yet lively, dance.

Michał cheerfully left his wife in the capable arms of the bear to go and see Frydek in action. The older szlachcic noted that Frydek’s body language was entirely relaxed – almost bored – and his betting varied according to how much he reckoned his chances of getting a particular number. Michał understood the principle of hazard, or crabs, as some called it, and could do the calculations himself. There were good reasons it was banned in many places, or the betting limited. It was a game in which the dice thrower kept throwing until a winning or losing combination occurred. Crabs, or double one was always a losing number. The caster must throw until a number between five and nine was achieved.

“A main,” said Michał, as Frydek threw a four and a two. Frydek smiled tightly. To win, he had to throw six or twelve; a one in six chance. To lose, it was five chances in thirty-six, being on two, three, or eleven. Anything else and he must throw again. Over time, the chance of winning was higher than losing. And Frydek was playing the percentages.

“Are you in, sir?” asked Frydek.

“No, just watching,” said Michał. Somehow the boy had reduced the players to the man he hoped to take, and showed relief that there was not to be another participant.

“One hundred złoty says you lose,” said Torzecki, intently. He was an avid gamester, one for whom the stakes meant as much as the play.

“One hundred and fifty says I win,” said Frydek. Torzecki matched the stake, and Frydek rolled. Seven; neither win nor lose.

“Another fifty on you losing,” said Torzecki. Frydek matched it with apparent indifference.

He rolled double one.

Torzecki collected his money, cackling happily.

“Your cast,” said Frydek.

Torzecki rolled eight.

The odds were the same as for a six; and Frydek bet a conservative hundred that Torzecki would lose.  Like Frydek, the other man’s first roll was a seven; then a six, both no result. Torzecki needed eight or twelve. He rolled again, one die settling on six quickly; but the other rolled over lazily onto one, for seven.

“Damn dice,” muttered Korsecki. A quick six again, and then a five making eleven. A loss.

It was Frydek’s chance to scoop up his winnings. He rolled a four, and then a twelve.

“That’s a good throw wasted,” quipped Frydek.  He rolled five and one; a main.

It was slow. Frydek’s betting the percentages was paying off, slowly.

“It’s a pity you don’t play cards,” said Frydek. “This is slow.”

Korsecki resorted to a hip flask; it smelled as if he had provided his own liquor.

“We could up the stakes,” he said.

“Perhaps our lord-brother who is watching will adjudicate if we do so, to see that all is fair,” said Frydek.

“Gladly,” said Michał.

Frydek threw.

“Crabs! Well that’s a bad throw out of the way,” he said, passing the dice to Torecki. Torecki threw nine; a main, but losing throws now included twelve, and he had to make a nine to win; and there were only four combinations which could make that, one chance in nine. 

“One thousand; I’ll have to write you vowels,” said Torecki.

“I’ll match that for you to lose,” said Frydek. 

Torecki rolled one and four; and then crowed as he rolled five and four to make his nine. Frydek paid out of his winnings.

Frydek won the next round with a main of eight, winning with double six.

“It’ll have to be vowels again,” said Torecki, having rolled another main of nine. “It’s a lucky number for me, though.”

“I’ll go all in against those three apartments you own,” said Frydek.

“You ain’t covering their value,” said Torecki.

“Yes, I am,” said Frydek.  “I’ve seen them. They need so much spent on them it would be more profitable to raze them and sell the land. You wouldn’t get much more than a hundred złoty each for such ramshackle places.”

“What do you want them for, then?” grumbled Torecki.

“To pull down and get rid of the rats,” said Frydek.

“Very well; it’s a bet,” said Torecki. He rolled seven.

“No go,” he muttered, and blew on the dice.  Seven again.

He rolled again. Five on the first die; and six on the second.

“You can sign me an affidavit tonight, and pass me over the deeds tomorrow,” said Frydek.

“Aren’t you going to give me a chance to win them back?” demanded Torecki.

“What will you bet with? Your mill?” asked Frydek.

“Yes!” said Torecki.

“If I was you, my lord-brother, I’d retire,” suggested Michał, gently.

“The hell I will!” cried Torecki.

“As you wish, my lord-brother,” said Frydek, without emotion. He rolled a five, and managed not to grimace. Another one in nine chance to win, and one in six to lose. He rolled seven; then four; then seven again. Then four, and eight, and then the dice fell out of the cup on a four and a one.

He had won.

Torecki was white.

“I... I will have the deeds ready for you,” he muttered.

“My lord-brother, I have no desire to beggar you,” said Frydek. “And I am willing to stake the mill merely on a single throw, the highest the winner.”

“What can I stake, though?” asked Torecki.

“Your life belongs to me if I win, to order as I please,” said Frydek.

The other man took up the dice; he rolled a two and a four.

Frydek rolled a five and a two.

“You will not commit suicide,” he said. “You will also report to the starosta first thing in the morning, where, as you are doubtless good at figures, he will give you a job unravelling the financial shenanigans of the late Paweł Zabiełło. You will not gamble whilst you are working for the Starosta.

“I... obey,” said Torecki, rising, bowing, and almost tottering out.

“Jezus!” said Frydek. “That was unexpected.” He took off his mask to wipe his face.

“You handled it very well,” said Michał.  “Many people would have let him go and commit suicide.”

“I’m supposed to keep the peace and preserve lives, not let others take them,” said Frydek.

“How did you know I was a szlachcic?” asked Michał, who was dressed as a Cossack.

“Metal heels,” said Frydek.

“So simple, so profound,” said Michał. “You have my blessing to court Halszka, by the way; you are a man of compassion in more ways than one. I’ll be happy to call you ‘son’ one day. I’m not sure that Jeremi would have thought of that way out, you gave him, that either he got his mill back, or you found him a job and ordered him to live.”

“I don’t know; he has quite a reputation for thinking outside of straight lines,” said Frydek. “Great Jumping Janissaries! You’re Lord Skrzetuski?”

Michał laughed.

“And it did not even impinge at first because you were worrying about that fellow,” he said.

“I could hardly not,” said Frydek.

Michał slapped him on the shoulder.

“And that tells me everything I want to know about you. I think, if you can’t decide whether to use the name of your own father, Polonised or otherwise, or your step-father... your Steppe father or your step father as you might say.... or a name loaned to you, perhaps you will consider our family’s association with the Cossack Bohun, and will change your name to Skrzetuski when you wed Halszka.”

Frydek brightened.

“Oh, sir, that is generous,” he said. “Of course, I don’t know....”

“Go and find her, and ask,” said Michał. “I shall go and rescue your company bear from my wife.” He added, “If she’ll have you, I’ll reimburse your friends anything outstanding as a wedding gift, and pay for the buildings to be refurbished, unless you’ve won enough to pay them back?”

“I’m not sure,” said Frydek.

“Well, I will certainly pay to have them refurbished for you,” said Michał. “That’ll give you a start in life – Halszka isn’t expensive, but she is used to living well. You laughed?”

“She’s sleeping on a straw palliasse in a makeshift bed Jaracz and I built in the town hall stables,” said Frydek. “With her little maid... well, you know about her little maid. I have no idea if she’s content to pay for the two infants or if she will want to adopt them.”

“Does it bother you?” asked Michał.

“No, not really, though I think she should consider deeply before taking on the responsibility of a child or children before she’s had the chance to be a wife,” said Frydek, seriously. “A child is a child; it’s the upbringing that counts. There are clever and stupid in all walks of life, and that can’t be helped; but how much they do with what they have is the responsibility of the parents.”

“Spoken like a true Cossack,” said Michał, amused. He hoped that Halszka would not take on a pair of children of dubious antecedents; but he was impressed that Frydek meant to support her, whatever she chose.

“And, sir,” said Frydek, “There was an unspoken understanding that the property was to be shared four ways between us. I... I will not do my companions down.”

“Then permit me to buy out the share of the winnings of the other two, so that you have land,” said Michał.”

“If they are content with that, then, yes, sir, and thank you,” said Frydek.

 

 

oOoOo

 

Ursyn had fallen asleep with his head in Barbara Skrzetuski’s lap. He was sucking his paw and dribbling whilst she did his ears.

“The young man will do very well indeed,” said Michał.  He told his wife all about it.

“I will never understand gambling, but I am glad he cared about even a man I think he despises,” said Barbara.

“So, too, thought I,” said Michał.

 

 

oOoOo

 

 

“A moment’s dream, Gypsy Queen?”

“Do upiory dream?” giggled Halszka.

“I suppose so,” said Frydek.  “I’d as soon not make too many jokes... I know we should be beyond such superstitions, but I’ve lived as a peasant and most peasants take such folklore very seriously. It might have been a joke for the Ulans to refer to Lord Fincke as ‘The Upiór’ but plenty of commoners on his estate will have wanted to get at his body to take some of his blood to mix with wine to drink to ward off bad luck.” He considered. “Not, I think that he had much left when Jaracz killed him so thoroughly. But I didn’t want to talk about upiory.”

“No, Frydek, but you are babbling,” said Halszka.

“Yes, of course I’m babbling; I want to ask you to marry me, now your father has said I might court you, and half of me is terrified to put it into words because the greater part of my thoughts are telling me that you would never agree,” said Frydek.

“The answer is ‘yes’ and now you may kiss me,” said Halszka. “And I won’t object if your hands wander further than in the first dream. But this one had better continue when we wake up, or I’ll get the others to help me tie you up and tickle you until you agree.”

Frydek kissed her long and deep, with longing.

“Oooh!” said Halszka, as he lifted his mouth, his eyes soft with passion.

“I love you,” said Frydek. “But I don’t want to go too far.”

“Your marrow has certainly gone wandering and is pushing against me,” said Halszka.

“It is not a marrow!” said Frydek. “I’d be deformed if it was.”

“Well, it’s a well-developed cucumber, anyway,” said Halszka. “Frydek! I would never have joked like that before I became an Ulan!”

“I wouldn’t return such smutty comments with Jaracz if I had not been made so welcome,” said Frydek.

They returned to the ballroom to find a brawl in progress.

The dispensers of the illicit liquor were taking out the value of their vinegar on the hide of the constable responsible. Sylwia, Jaras, and a now-wakeful Ursyn joined in, and several people were forcibly polonezed to the cells, largely because the Ulans thought that this mode of progress was funnier than just marching them there.

 

 

Frydek and Halszka left the ballroom at last, hand in hand, to go back to the stables.

“We need to watch this pair before Frydek decides to marinate and pickle his marrow,” said Jaracz.

“Stuff yourself with straw,” said Frydek.  “I am the happiest man in the world.”

“Oh no!” said Jaracz. “Halszka! Have you got our lord-brother with child?”

“Not unless he’s gestating it in his mouth,” said Halszka, going red. “We are going to be married; and then we shall do whatever we want with any vegetable squashes.”

“Bravo!” said Jaracz.

“And I want to count my winnings and ask what is a fair price for the mill and apartments as my father-in-law wants to buy out your share so Halszka and I have land,” said Frydek.

“You won the mill as well? What’s the old fool going to do?” demanded Jaracz, worried.

“He would bet it,” said Frydek.  “But I made him stake the mill against my ownership of his life, and I won, so he’s going to help Eugeniusz with the Zabiełło accounts.”

“Probably good for everyone all round,” said Jaracz.  “Well, if Lord Skrzetuski is willing to do so, investing cash in Kordula’s lands won’t go awry. I’m agreeable, if Kordula is.”

“I’d as soon not split land,” said Kordula.  “It makes sense to me.”

 

 

oOoOo

 

The wedding was fairly quiet, if one may count the attendance of a company of Ulans ‘quiet.’ Frydek led his bride between the raised sabres of his lords-brothers, whilst the bear, who had been his other groomsman next to Jaracz – Jaracz being marginally less likely to lose a ring – tossed flowers at all and sundry.

Ursyn had taken a liking to Halszka’s veil, and was wearing a veil and a coronet of flowers like her.

“I’m not marrying your bear, thank you,” said Frydek to Sylwia.

“It’s all right, he’s only the Bear of Honour,” said Sylvia.

As none of the female towarzysze objected to dancing with a bear, with coronet and veil or otherwise, Ursyn enjoyed himself very much.

Frydek and Halszka took advantage of knowing the building to slide down to the cells and out of the exit used by the jailers before the celebration was over; and refused to leave their bed for the little fracas involving fifty or so inebriated Ulans.

Fortunately, Ursyn had had a nap earlier, and was fresh to polonez them to the playing of a pipe of one of the constable’s sons and they were route-marched, or rather, route-polonezed thirty miles back to Większy-Bydlin, and their horses collected later.

And if some of them woke up wondering why they were back in barracks, at least on the whole a good time was had by all with minimal damage in town. .  Though some may have regretted the drinking for the last, horribly sober, part of their journey....

 

None of which Frydek or Halszka knew... or cared about.