the Starosta's assistants 4

 

Chapter 4

 

Halszka and Kordula had never seen such squalid filth and deprivation as in this apartment block. Stale urine festered in corners on the stair, some of the treads had rotted. The whole place stank.

“Not the most salubrious place in the world,” commented Adamiak.

“It’s disgusting,” said Halszka. “Who owns it? He should be whipped for so mistreating his tenants.”

“Likely that Zabiełło fellow who Lord Jaras and Lady Sylwia plan to deal with,” said Adamiak. “But it’ll be on the deeds; you can find out.”

“I shall,” said Halszka.

They came to the roughly-mended door, still bearing the scars of having been kicked in by Władysław  Sokołowski.

Wronowski’s men had plainly not taken the baby who was still being suckled last time they were here; he was naked bar a short tunic, and tied in a chair over a pile of newspapers. The baby, who must have been born since, was in a packing box, whimpering.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be able to conceive if you were feeding?” said Halszka.

“I guess it doesn’t always work,” said Kordula.

“The older one’s me cousin,” said Marylka. “Ma took him on when me aunt was arrested.  He’s called Stach after the brother wot was killed by the szlachcianka, and no loss that was. The babby ain’t got no name yet.”

“Why, she must be three months old,  hasn’t she been Christened?” gasped Halszka.

“Nah, it cost less if you do ‘em in batches,” said Marylka. “Ma was waiting on some o’ the other girls havin’ babbies so they could all be done at once.”

“And you haven’t even given her a name?” Halszka was horrified.

“What for? She might die,” said Marylka. “Ma says it ain’t worth naming a babby until it’s a year old an’ might be more likely to live.”

“Your mother is vile,” said Halszka.

“Well, you give her a name, then,” said Marylka.

“I will,” said Halszka. “She shall be... Joanna. Asia for short.” She frowned. “A wet nurse will be required.”

She repeated this need when they got outside where the constable was keeping Majka Magda in charge.

“My wife has plenty of milk,” volunteered the constable. “Our nipper’s about the same age as the little one, and she’ll be glad of a bit of extra to save, you know.  And she’d wash them up nice and gentle.”

“Fine,” said Halszka. “I have no idea what to do with infants except that we couldn’t leave them there. I’ll give your wife a clothes allowance for them as well.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said the constable. His wife was a canny shopper and could do well by these extra two and make a profit from it.

If the young lordling tired of checking up on them, so long as the money came in, having extra children never hurt, and if the money stopped coming in, they could go to an orphan asylum. Raised to be servants to a youth who looked expensive would be useful, and perhaps a sinecure available for himself and his wife in their old age.

Halszka and Kordula took Marylka into the steam room, Adamiak having a mission to find some decent readymades or secondhand clothes for the young girl.

“Right, kid, you need to know you’re safe from both of us as we’re girls dressed as pages, me to my husband and Lady Halszka is nobody’s particular page as yet,” said Kordula. “You’re dirty but at least your hair is short enough to wash fairly easily, and we’ll help you this time; you can bathe in with us in the mornings, and you might as well sleep beside Halszka as her bed is wide enough until Adamiak has a chance to make you a bed of your own in her room. We took over this end of the stable block as all the townsfolk were snotty about housing Ulans.”

“Cuh, I didn’t know people got snotty about szlachta,” said Marylka. She was terrified, and trying not to show it.

“You are a good, brave girl,” said Halszka, approvingly. She and Kordula stripped, to show the child there was no fear of being used, though it seemed that Marylka was more afraid of the method of losing the layers of grime.

“I fear we may have to scrape it a bit,” said Kordula.

“Like the Romans did,” said Halszkca. “I have an ivory fan with me; one of its wings should do it.”

Marylka was amazed that the process was no more than mildly uncomfortable at times; and then she was swabbed down with cold water, which made her gasp,

“Now, wrap yourself in this towel and we will see to your hair,” said Halszka.

“Why?” asked Marylka.

“Because you have lice and we don’t want to catch them,” said Halszka. She had heated water to wash the child’s honey blonde curls.

By the time this was over, there was a pile of clothes outside the curtain.

“I got boys’ and girls’ clothes,” said Adamiak. “She could almost pass as Lord Jaracz’s son in boy’s clothes.”

Kordula sniggered.

“Another page,” she said. “Your choice, Marylka.”

“Cuh! I wanna be a boy; boys have more fun,” said Marylka.

“And we will keep the female garb for when I am female and need a maid,” said Halszka. “It does make more sense for you to be my pacholek, and I’ll bribe the constable to keep quiet.”

“Already done,” said Adamiak.

“What a most excellent man you are, my lord-brother,” said Halszka.

“You know I ain’t really....”

“Shh. Lord Jaracz has plans for you,” said Halszka.

Kordula giggled.

“And now I’ve got to know you better, I see why,” she said. “You’re wasted as a groom. It was a splendid lance charge, and you did it as if born to it.”

“Oh, you szlachta will have your games,” said Adamiak. “There’s only one reason I might want to be of your number; but without lands and wealth, it would still be a case of so near and yet so far. And if you’ve finished dressing your pacholek, I’d better make a bed up in my lord-brother Hanusz’s stable.”

He stalked off into Halszka’s domain.

“What’s he in a mood about?” wondered Halszka. “We didn’t tease him that hard.”

Kordula looked thoughtful, and then gave a low whistle.

“His colouring is right,” she said. “I think I have an illegitimate brother whose name ought to be Wronowski.”

Frydek Adamiak had short, cropped dark brown hair and a luxuriant moustache the same colour, and eyes the colour of hot chocolate, normally narrowed but he had let them widen for the brief moment he had glanced to one side.

“You lost me,” said Halszka.

“Not to worry,” said Kordula.

Marylka looked back from one to the other, and understanding dawned on her rather wizzened, underfed face. She opened her mouth.

Kordula held up a finger to her lips and winked.

Marylka’s eyes crinkled with contained laughter.

 

oOoOo

 

Halszka wrote the report on the arrest of Majka-Magda Kapustla, whilst Kordula whispered to Jaracz.

He grinned.

“Well, if you’ll go along with it....” he said.

“I think he’ll do very well,” said Kordula.

 

oOoOo

It was too late to look in the records, and Jaracz had arranged for hot dinners to be brought to the town hall from the eatery where they had had breakfast. Hungry young Ulans soon demolished what was brought.

“Well, it’s on the right side of indifferent,” said Jaracz. “Dice for who does the washing-up as we have no bear to lick the plates for us.”

Halszka giggled.

“That sounds as if you let Ursyn do all the work and don’t wash the plates afterwards.”

“I would, if I didn’t object to bear drool,” said Jaracz. “Ulans are supposed to be lazy tearaways; don’t spoil our reputation.”

“I will wash up,” said Marylka, firmly. “Then you will all vail me a grosz for doing an unpleasant job”

“I like your acquisition, young Halszka,” said Jaracz. “She has her head screwed on firmly.”

 

 

Marylka lay in the hastily-improvised cot made by Frydek Adamiak, in a haze of happy luxury. Her belly was full enough not to hurt, her skin was neither raw nor itchy, her hair did not itch, and she was wearing a nightgown so soft she was scarcely aware of it. There was a necessary in its own little room for relieving herself, with a seat and all, and paper beside it to clean up so she need not use her shift and have it become hard and scratchy.  Marylka was not given to such flights of self-introspection as to wonder whether she deserved such comfort, but, like a little animal, took it as it came, grateful and pleased to have more good than bad. Szlachianki played odd games, dressing as soldiers, but Marylka was not complaining. She had  boys’ clothes, and soft haiduk boots to keep her feet warm, and stockings not foot-wraps. Why as servant to a szlachta, whatever sex the lady was being, was next door to being szlachta herself!

With such happy thoughts, Marylka swiftly fell asleep.

 

Halszka was comfortable enough, but sleep eluded her. She had missed something somewhere, something important. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, and her dreams were strange and disturbing, somehow pleasant, but elusive.

Finally however, exhaustion won, and she slept deeper.

 

oOoOo

 

“We need a council of war,” said Halszka, after sabre drill.  She was chagrined not to be as good as Adamiak, a peasant, who had been helping her. And she was pleased to be helped, but it also grated, a little.

“We’ll bathe without a curtain,” said Jaracz.

“I’ll wash later,” said Adamiak.

“Oh, for goodness sake, man, nobody will think the less of you for having any natural reaction to the beauty of the ladies,” said Jaracz.  “We might tease you over the size or shape of it, but it’s normal, and they’ll take it as a compliment, won’t you, ladies?”

“So long as you keep yours in good order for me, my lord,” said Kordula. “And Marylka is too young to illicit such naughty thoughts in any case.”

“I don’t need no bath, I had one yesterday,” said Marylka.

“And you shall have one every day,” said Halszka. “Let the child have the curtain, my lords-brothers.”

“Not on your life; she’ll listen and not wash,” said Jaracz.

Marylka giggled.

“Well, she may hide behind us,” said Halszka.

This suited Marylka well enough.

“What do we need a council of war about?” asked Jaracz.

“There are some buildings in town I wouldn’t house chickens in,” said Halszka. “I doubt Lord Zabiełło-Wąż knows, but we could log who owns what and take it to him.”

“We can take it too him, but it won’t do any good,” said Jaracz.

“Why not? He’s the starosta,” said Halszka.

“Certainly. He is the starosta. And he’s in charge of anyone breaking the law.  If the owner of a building was deliberately murdering his tenants, it’s the starosta’s business. If the tenants are destroying the owner’s building, that’s the starosta’s business. But it’s up to an individual szlachcic what he does with and on his own property. And there’s nothing the starosta can do.”

“Even if there is garbage, and evil miasmas and rats which can threaten the occupants of the other buildings?”

“Up to the owners of those buildings to complain and force a duel on him,” said Jaracz.

“Are you serious? Surely there’s something that can be done?” said Halszka, bouncing angrily on the balls of her feet.

Adamiak cleared his throat, blushing at what the bouncing did to her.

“Nothing,” said Jaracz. “And don’t you go challenging anyone, y’hear, Halszka?  You aren’t good enough yet.” He paused. “And I’m not going to, either. I have a job to do helping keep the town peaceful, without getting into duels over one or two buildings. It will have to wait.”

“I could duel him,” said Adamiak. “I’m supernumerary, it wouldn’t matter....”

Jaracz rounded on him.

“It matters to me,” he said. “Find some other way, whoever it is.”

“I’m no slouch with a sabre,” said Adamiak.

“No, you’re quite good, though I’m not sure how,” said Jaracz.

“I was born a Cossack, and my father taught me, until he died in a raid,” said Adamiak. “My mother came west and married the man whose name I use. But I never forgot. It’s why I started fighting with my fists; people teased me about my Cossack accent. I had to fight or go under.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” said Jaracz.  “We’re going to start using your Cossack surname because if your father taught you sword you really are my lord-brother.”

 “Or, you can go by Wronowski,” said Kordula. “You have been a good friend, I’d be happy for you to be my illegitimate half-brother.”

Adamiak sniggered.

“I’m not sure whether I should be insulted, considering I respected both my sires,” he said.

Kordula pulled a face.

“I take your point,” she said.

“What was your real father’s given name?” asked Jaracz.

“Dmytro,” said Adamiak. “Mother changed my name to Frydek from Frol, but I’m used to that.” He added, “Our surname was for the cherry trees where we lived, Vyschnevetsky.”

There was a long silence.

“Well!” said Jaracz. “The Skrzetuski and the Rzędzian family were long associates with the Polish version of that, Wiśniowiecki. It’s a good name.”

“I am not going with the name of a king. I’ll stick with Wronowski,” sighed Frydek.

“Somebody has to raise the standard of the name,” said Kordula.

“Well, if you ladies will search the records, and make a note of what else the offending szlachcic owns, and see if it’s because he’s aged and infirm as well before condemning him, Frydek and I will have a good look around town,” said Jaracz. “Goodness, Frydek, it was cucumbers that killed Jeremi Wiśniowicki, I think you were trying for a marrow.”

“You bastard,” said Frydek, blushing hard.

“A pink marrow,” said Jaracz.

“Leave the poor man alone,” said Halzka, severely. “My brother would cuff you upside the head.”

“I’ll do it for him,” said Kordula, cuffing her husband gently.

“Outnumbered,” mourned Jaracz. “Come on, Frydek, let us throw cold water at each other and let the girls wash in peace. It’ll calm your marrow as well.”