Summer Afternoon Surprise

I am often surprised by the heat in the flatlands during the summer months. It makes me glad that my postings here so far have been seaside towns. In the late afternoons, when the sun has baked the streets, the cooling breeze from the ocean makes proper office wear for the town bearable. Leaving the office after the sun touches the trees to the west of the civic plaza means I can spend the heat of the day catching up the archival files in the basement, and still have light to work by in the late afternoon, and a breeze as well.

Doamnă Loewenstein remarked this was good schedule management, and a positive note in my interim review this week past. So I was already in a cheerful mood as I strolled towards my lodgings at the hotel, when I chanced to meet one who cheered me even further. He hailed me, “What luck, meeting you here -- just got off the train. How are you, mo cridhe?”

I managed to remember to behave myself in the public street, “I am well!”, and blushing, murmured, “I missed you.”

"And I you, my heart." He smiled down at me, “Do you have plans this evening? Whatsay to a spot of dancing? Once I've changed out of this outlandish garb, that is. Unless you mind dancing with a vagabond, smelling of sand, sweat and engine oil?”

I grinned, and then ducked my head, "I would not have noticed the dirt, if you had not mentioned it... just the man under it."

He laughed, and doffed his pith helmet in a sweeping bow, “Shall I call on you this evening? I saw a lovely place in Harborside just before I left. Waterfalls, cavorite, scenic beauty that would pale next to your own radiance....”

I giggled at his exaggeration, and we made plans to meet later that evening. When he escorted me to the ballroom, balanced precariously on a free-floating hill of cavorite ore, I did have to admit it was beautiful. It was odd to find such a fantastic setting could feel familiar, but it did somewhat resemble the lake at the schloss. My confusion ended when I noted the signature. “Oh! this the the Doamnă's work?”

“Yes, indeed. She has quite a grand touch, and she's a dab hand at dance machines.” He muttered, "Who would have guessed?"

His tone caught my curiosity, and I asked, “What, that such a straight-laced organizer would be good at dance things?”

He chuckled, “Ah. Something like that, yes.”

“I think she must be sitting in the corner, scribbling, with all the notes she has for me the mornings after dances.” I sighed, “She often puts in full day at the office before a ball, and the day after. Sometimes I think she does not sleep.”

Perun asked, “Perhaps she is one of those who needs little sleep? History has known such. Usually quite brilliant in their fields... office, dances, lab. Does she have any hobbies?”

That gave me pause. I realized I had no idea what she did when she was not on duty. “I... am not sure.” I giggled and pointed to the waterfall backdrop, “She builds a bit.”

He glanced over his shoulder where I had indicated, and smiled. "A bit, yes."

Still, his comment had me thinking. "If she does not enjoy her work, or the dances, I do not think she does have a hobby."

“Building and dancing are certainly creative work, they could be hobbies if she enjoys them, of course.” He looked thoughtful, “Some who seem driven are in reality changing constantly between things which give them joy.”

I bit my lip, thinking hard again. "Her husband has been away a long time. I don’t even recall seeing him during Master Wolfgang’s troubles. Perhaps she is filling time."

I was still deep in thought when he asked, “And how do you fill your time?” When I looked up, he caught my gaze with his and smiled.

I sighed, "Work, mostly... some research for the Doamnă... and unseemly dreams." I blushed scarlet, but did not turn my eyes from his.

Perun quirked a small grin, eyes twinkling. “We're alone, Sweet Mary, quite alone -- what manner of thing would be ‘unseemly’, pray tell?”

“Well, sometimes we are dancing, and sometimes, “ I flushed deeper, "....y’ canna really mistake it for dancin’...."

He chuckled, “... and yes. Quite often I believe I dream the same.” and he winked.

Searching for a change of topic before I embarrassed myself, I murmured, “I was glad you were able to write, this time.”

“As was I -- you got them all, then?”

“I think so, one about every four days?” At his nod, I continued, “It didn’t keep me from worrying, but it made the worry less sharp. I did write back, but I fear they are waiting for you at your lodgings.”

“Ah. Not to worry -- awkward to find me while travelling, regardless. And I can enjoy them at leisure now.” He then distracted me by asking, “ So tell me what you think, Sweet Mary: I've changed one outlandish garb from another, fished it out of my pack before I called on you -- thought I should have something appropriate to wear in Shanghai.”

I smiled at his sudden preening, “It is a lovely blue, close to what the Baron wears to the Shanghai festivals. His is patterned with birds, I think."

“Ah! Of course. Wulfenbach Blue, very old traditional.”

I nodded, "One of the many costumes he has that give Mrs Parks fits with the special laundry steps." When he chuckled, I said, “She was hired locally, when it looked like the school and the office staff were going to need a household manager. I have begun to help out in the kitchen, now and again. Mrs Parks has been learning to cook things from home, and I am learning what to do with some of the local foods.”

“Oh, capital! A versatile cook who is also a patient laundress is worth her weight in gems.”

“The stories that Mr Messenger tells about the ‘local specialties’ she served when she started are very funny.He's a bit of a food snob, but then his home village was outside the Wastelands.” I smiled, "He’s been a bit like an older brother to me here, helping me learn the assistant’s duties."

“Then I should make a point of meeting him, wouldn't you say?” I giggled, and he continued, “Are you still happy in your work, then?” His tone sounded as if he was trying to distract me, or himself.

“I am happy. It is work I can do well, and with good people...”

He smiled into my eyes and lightly squeezed my hand. "I'm glad."

I sighed, “ ...well, most of them are good co-workers.” At his prompting, I continued, "There is a courier, she isn't one of the good ones..."

I felt him tense slightly, “Dangerous? Or merely annoying?”

I shrugged, “Nothing threatening, just - she has been harsh to me at times, but I have friends in the office to help.” Giggling, I said, “She has called you my imaginary beau, before...”

His eyebrows were expressive above his goggles, “Ah! Yes, the phantom, the figment, the elusive....”

A sudden memory made me exclaim, "Oh! Mr Messenger has seen you, though you have not been introduced."

“Has he, by Jove? Where were we when we met?”

I blushed again, “He spotted us on your balcony, when we were, ah - very distracted.”

He chuckled, then frowned and muttered, "Messenger, Messenger .... ah! You mean my neighbour, of the opposite balcony!" I nodded, and he continued. “We haven't spoken, but each knows the other is there, I believe. I've admired his curtains. In fact, I've added curtains, you know! It quite opens up the flat, counter-intuitively enough.”

“That does seem backwards.”

“Ah, well! I'm able to block off the windows, you see, so I'm no longer having to use furniture to the purpose. One large room, instead of three smaller ones. Enough room to waltz now, I daresay.” At my blush, he chuckled again, “I did indeed mean waltzing, mo cridhe.” Then he whispered in my ear, "Other things need less room."

We danced a few moments longer when he cleared his throat, and said, “I heard the newsboy at the train station say the city had raised an impressive total for the Relay. Did I hear that the Sheriff would be shaving his head in celebration?”

I nodded, “They say it will just be his human head."

He frowned a bit, “Ah, the werewolf rumours?”

I shrugged, "He is the one who took charge during Master Wolfgang's problems, so I canna say what is rumor or no."

"Regardless, a quarter million lindens is noteworthy for a city the size of Steelhead."

“It is a growing city, but still manages to not be... overbearing.” I shivered a bit, thinking how lost I felt whenever I had duties that took me to New Babbage.

“Mo cridhe? Are you cold, then?”

I shook my head, “Ninini - I - I just don't care for big cities.”

He nodded, "Children of the country, you and I, yes. Although cities have their use, and appeal ..."

I shook off the feeling and went on, “We have been busy in the office, but I heard there were insane amounts of money raised at auctions all over since you have been away.”

“Insane? How insane?”, he chuckled.

“Several thousand lindens for several of the auction lots, by themselves.”

He let a little surprise show on his face, “Indeed? What manner of lots went so high?”

“Some gowns and dates, though the doamnă was very upset that the Baron was the first one on the block for New Babbage. He volunteered, but still, the first lot is always low.” Perun raised a skeptical eyebrow, but I continued, “He went for only L$4000 this time, and she was furious... not so anyone outside the office would notice. She only broke four pens the day after.”

He raised both eyebrows in surprise, “They auctioned off Baron Klaus Wulfenbach?”

I nodded, “It was for a dance at the ball. The date auction two years ago was much more.”

He was perplexed, and he slowed his steps in the dance. “I .... see. How much more?”

“Office rumor is all I have to go on. I think someone said it was at least L$30,000. You haven't been to many of the big state balls, have you?”

He looked as if someone had smacked the back of his head with a board, which is understandable, for that amount of money. “And this was for charity? Hmm. No, I have not had that pleasure.”

I nodded, “Da, the charities are a lot of what they do, especially summer and fall.”

He seemed distracted, still, but went on, “Do they really? How odd, I wonder why ...”

When he did not say anything else, I went on, “Anyroad, from the reports I have seen while filing, the big state affairs can have a 3 to 1 ratio of women to men in attendance. So, having the Baron dance with someone as long as they care to have him is a selling point.” I did not realize I had sighed until Perun asked me about it. I explained, “I would have to be up on my hand-to-hand if we were to attend one of the Babbage affairs. Even though they haven't really have a fistfight on the dance floor in over a year, from what I have heard, the single girls can get pushy.”

“And if I choose to dance only with the most beautiful woman in the Steamlands, they would try to cut in, would they?”

I nodded, ignoring his exaggerations again, “They would try, da - I do not share well.”

“Good. Neither do I.”

“I might need some steel-toed dance slippers to make my point,” I said with a grin, and snuggled into his arms.

“Ah, my formidable flower! Trained with your auntie, am I right?” I nodded, and he continued, “It does my heart good to know you have such training, mo cridhe.”

“She did not have time to teach me the full combat dancing forms, but she did give a few pointers.” I looked up at his chuckle, and he dipped his face in to mine for a quick kiss. Well, it started as a quick kiss, but the embrace was no longer pretending to be a dance. After a few moments of eternity, I sighed contentedly, "Missed you terribly, mi dragul."

“And I, you, mo cridhe... I... should see you home. Before I am any more tempted to take you home with me...”

"Before I am tempted to let you, da," I agreed, softly.

He kissed my cheek, “Someday. And that doesn't help the moment, does it?"

I quietly said, “Promise.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Promise. And now, shall I see you back to your lodgings, my Sweet Mary?”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed softly into his ear, "Best do it now, before we get carried away."

He growled a little as he stepped back, “I would like to get carried away. But... you're quite right, my heart, mo cridhe...” and he held out a hand for me, smiling. When I took it, he tucked my hand into the crook of his arm, and walked me back to the hotel. In the lobby, I took him by the lapels and kissed him soundly, under the disapproving eye of the front desk clerk and the concierge. He chuckled softly when I released him, “Sweet dreams, Sweet Mary.”

Blushing, I nodded, “See you there, mi dragul.”

“Always, mo cridhe,” then he stepped back and kissed my hand. Halfway up the spiral stairs to my floor, I noticed him speaking quietly to the concierge, their hand movements suggesting a surreptitious gratuity being passed. I quickly moved on before they could notice I had paused.

My Apprenticeship

This tale is told through the veil of years, and though I lived it, there may be a haze of golden nostalgia blurring the sharp edges, along with the experience of adulthood focusing on things that were not important to the child at the time. But I wish to note my perspective on a turning point in my life, that time I took my first step towards my adulthood.



Portărel Constantin Grigorescu was an important man, as the tax assessor for Bihor Judete, but on our riding in the Gilău Mountains, he was also a trusted friend. I did not know this as words, but as we children had been raised to call him "Unchi Costin", I felt it. This was why, in the spring shortly after my ninth birthday, the family awaited his circuit with worry, but not fear.



The previous winter had been hard, and the melting snows gave the relief that our stores of food would be renewed soon, and we would not have to sacrifice any more of the goats to survive. The herds had been thinned enough by the wolves and the caprăvită, as had the chickens before they were brought into the stables under the housen. My older brothers were allowed eggs more often than the younger of us, and had them every morning that spring, but we did not begrudge them the extra food. We all saw how hard they worked, dragging the great felled trees to the village to help rebuild the communal barn and gathering hall. It was not just where celebrations were held, but also communal storage for what few harvests we had and fodder over winter. It had been wrecked by a wicked storm a month after Yule. All told, it has been an extremely hard winter.



The intense industry of the whole village rebuilding is what greeted Portărel Grigorescu's patrol, instead of the usual gathering of village elders. As soon as he entered the pocket valley, however, the elders left their sons and daughters to continue the tasks and greeted him. I was diverted from hauling water for the mortar to help water their horses, so I could overhear my father and his brothers apologizing for the informal greeting.



"Not at all, Hâjdău! I understand! We got the heliograph reports, and the Jaegermonstern have had a good hunting season." The Jagers with his patrol grinned, and the portărel then clapped Tată and Unchi Iosif on their shoulders, "I can give you the reassurance that the wolf population has been thinned, and there are three caprăvită shipped to the labs in Mechanicsburg. The Madboys will find out what we can do to deter them, should they get that numerous again."



The tension seemed to lessen in the village as a whole, as the news filtered through the work groups. The Sergent and his soldiers stabled their horses, and conferred with my aunt Ecaterina, to find out where any lingering pockets of troubling predators might be. Before she had come to wed my uncle, she had been one of the soldiers on patrols like theirs, and was able to lead them to the trails the wolves had used, in spite of her missing foot. While getting Unchi Costin and his assistants settled in, I heard people laughing more, but there was still a worry in the back of my mind.



If you are small and quiet, you get to hear a lot of things with which the adults do not want to burden their children. My penchant for blending in had caused my family to call me Pitulicea, for the little brown bird that was overlooked until she sang. I did not understand it at the time, as I did not sing more or less than the others in the village. Now, with the years to reflect in-between, I see it was when I spoke up, I usually surprised my elders. In this case, I knew, approximately, what the family had paid in taxes last spring. I also knew what we had on hand, and it would not be enough, and I had worried this information about in my mind since the snows had started melting. The discussions at the fireplace seemed to confirm my fears.



The first night of the assessor's visit was always social, not business. In later years, I found out it was in part because Unchi Costin really was a distant relative, as his home village was two ridges south of us. He knew the area, and held the mountains and her people in his heart. Horatiu Loewenstein was the landlord over our district in that time, and though he had served in the Long War, he was still a man of the district. However, he had certain obligations to meet to our Lady of the Fifty, and my parents had obligations to him. So the talk around the fire was not of how hard the winter had been, but news of the rest of the district.



Unchi Costin nodded by the fire, "We do have the hunting reports from the Jaegerkin, and the river is flooding now. Luckily, the rye harvest has been saved in most areas, and there is a section of the valley that has been selected for a new grain experiment, something that will prefer the flooded fields, so the government grants will cover that loss."



My father thought a moment, "That means we have only our own losses to make up. Magistrat Loewenstein is a fair man, we will honor our part of the bargain. How, I am not sure, but we will."



I could not stand the suspense any longer, and spoke out from my nook in the chimney-corner, revealing I was not in bed as I should have been. "How, Tată? We do not have but five parts of the seven we gave last year."



"Ach, Pitulicea! you should be in bed!" Mamă made as to shoo me off when Unchi Costin said, "Wait, I want to hear her." Mamă bid me stand with her in front of the fire, and Unchi asked, "Tell me what you are thinking, Mara."



Well, only the circuit priest had ever called me by my given name (other than Mamă, when she was upset, and then she used all of them) so I drew myself up as I was supposed to when declaring my vivas for schooling. "I don' know the hard numbers, but I do know the wolves took a tithe of our chickens when they broke into our coop, and the others lost that much, though Unchi Valreiu lost a double-tithe. If you divide the goat herds of everybody into seven equal herds, we lost two of those, mostly to the wolves and the blestematmâncător." Here, Mamă smacked my shoulder, and said "Language, young lady!" The adults rippled with chuckles when I said, "That is what Mătuşă Ecaterina called them!"



"That is a soldier's word, and even if she is retired, she can use that, but little girls do not." Tată said.



Unchi Costin got his snorting chuckles under control, and asked his second, "Good assessment, you think?"



"Aye, and better than some of the elders we have interviewed this season." The woman spoke with an accent that I had trouble understanding, being used to hearing my family. Miss Tarkeshwari's smile was brilliant in her red-dark skin, "A little unconventional, but with only the priest to come in on circuit every quarter, there are bound to be holes in the information."



Unchi Costin nodded, "And so she made the tools she needed. Well done, Mara."



I fidgeted a bit, and said, "That does not fix the taxes, though."



"It might. Do you like working with numbers?" he asked.



I frowned, doubtfully. "They behave better than the chickens, mostly."



Mamă's grip around my shoulders tightened at his next words, "Would you like to learn to work with them all the time?"



"Costin, we cannot afford an apprentice fee on top of the taxes!" my father muttered.



"What about the government indenture contract? She would get the training, and the bounty would cover your taxes this year." Unchi stayed calm in the face of my parents' sudden tension. I worried that my parents would send me to bed so they could argue, but I stayed still and quiet, hoping. "She would be my responsibility, and me and my wife would make sure she gets all the benefits of learning at the schloss. Sorina is in charge of the pages now, and we have several open spaces, with the kids growing up and into good positions."



Mamă murmured quietly, "I don't know, she is so young...."



Miss Tarkeshwari nodded, "It is a big choice, so you should sleep on it, but I will tell you it was the best thing that could have happened for me. Otherwise, I might not be alive today. And it is not as if she would never come home. Besides, the cachet of having someone in the family that can send news home would be good for the village in the future."



Unchi Costin had been scribbling on a bit of paper, "It could be good for the village now. The current indenture fee could cover the whole village's taxes for this year. I will have to see what we have in the other families, and I will not say anything of it to them, but it could give you the step up the village needs for the next year."



"By selling my child to the schloss?" Mamă whispered.



Miss Tarkeshwari stood up gracefully, "It is not slavery, it is what saved me from the slavers." She stood by my mother and murmured, "You must consider carefully, as the choices are different for every person. But please do consider, for during the seven years of her apprenticeship, she will be housed, clothed and fed as everyone else in the government standing. Her training will be for a job with the House, a good job that that is always in demand, and when she is twenty-one, she will be able to stand on her own." The reserved second placed her hand on my mothers shoulder, "It is an opportunity for her, but you should not decide now. Sleep on it." Then the woman turned to the cupboard bed where her packs had been placed and began readying for sleep.



"Sound advice, this is not a snap judgement." Unchi Costin stood and stretched. "We are going to be here another two days, after all, and the wagons will be here in a fortnight after going through the high reaches. Take time to think about it."



I did not say anything to Mamă, as she was guiding me to the loft ladder, but I was thinking furiously. I fell asleep to the murmurs of my parents in their cupboard bed underneath the loft, my mind spinning out threads of arguments.