~ Magic Aegis ~

by

Rhobin Lee Courtright

The kitchen’s warmth soothed the chill felt from the dining room. It’s cozy atmosphere brought an unspoken relief. Eudora and Freda were putting the finishing touches on the family’s dessert and looked up in unison as she entered. Vesper lowered her eyes. "Hayden has asked for Freda to finish serving," she said not looking up from the floor. Freda huffed and groaned before she left with the desserts. A quick side-glance caught the rebuking glance Freda threw her way.

"What happened?" Eudora asked.

Vesper looked at her foster mother to judge her temper. "I spilled the wine. Some stained Dame Winnifred’s sleeve."

Eudora stood calmly cleaning up the worktable. Her strong features seemed neither upset nor harried as the soft brown eyes regarded Vesper. A simple embroidered white cap framed her oval face with its beaked nose and high slashing brows, and hid the black and silver hair braided and coiled beneath it. "Is there a mess to clean up?"

"No, Dame Winifred wiped it up with her napkin."

"Were you careless around the mistress?"

"Yes," Vesper said. It was useless to suggest her arm was nudged. She sighed. "The mistress’s talk put me in a trance, by the time I heard her request, she had to repeat it. I hurried, that is all. I am sorry, Eudora."

"Sit and eat your own dinner."

"I’ll help you clean up, then we can sit together," Vesper offered, guilt stricken for the lack of a reprimand.

Eudora nodded and placed the plates in the warmer. "Freda eats with us tonight as with the full moon and harvest, Marwyn will be late from the fields. You need to stay focused, Vesper."

"I know. It’s hard. They talk of nothing, except maybe meanness. Not like you and I talk about all manner of interesting things in the evening. It was boring and I was thinking of something else."

"You were daydreaming. You should make no judgments, Vesper. Can’t you feel the unhappiness in this house? The mistress is deserving of your sympathy."

"Dame Winifred?" Vesper scoffed. "She has everything she wants."

"No, Vesper. Not everything. Some treasures can never be gained without the loss of another."

There was no answer for that and Vesper mindlessly helped her aunt until Freda finished. Before they sat, each washed her hands in a special basin for that purpose, then Eudora held a pitcher of warm scented water and poured it over their hands. Freda sniffed at Eudora’s required mealtime ritual and Vesper hid her smile as she wiped her hands on a linen towel. Closing her eyes, she smelled her palms and enjoyed the lingering scent of rosemary and lavender. The smell reminded her of Eudora’s tales of life in the south. Freda’s voice called her wandering attention back to the Kellsie kitchen. The washing-ritual always reminded her of Eudora’s home, made her seem less familiar and more exotic. Freda placed their plates before them, and after a few simple words of grace, they sat down.

"Do you miss Kennetsure?" Vesper asked.

Stopped mid-chew, Eudora slowly finished her bite before speaking. "Sometimes. Why do you ask?"

"I saw a Kennetsure woman outside the tavern today. She seemed so free, so unrestrained. I thought, you being a native of Kennetsure, surely you must miss the south--the sun and the warmth. A place where learning is cherished, where women aren’t so constricted." She couldn’t help her petulant tone.

"That’s what you get filling her head full of all that learning," Freda said. "How is she to ever find a position?"

"I found one," Eudora said. "Vesper, everyone has restrictions. You just don’t see those imposed on others, whether from different families, different towns or different provinces. You must see beyond the obvious and gratifying, to the problems, the faults, and the restrictions, accept them. Then you can truly learn to love."

"People or places?" Vesper asked.

"Both."

"You’ve taught me much of Kennetsure, how to read and study for enjoyment, the pleasure of making beautiful things, about herbs and making scents and cosmetics. It must be wonderful there," Vesper said sighing. She closed her eyes to envision the prospect. "I think I love it, already."

"Did Alvina walk into town with you?"

Eudora brought her back to Vere with a crash. "Yes." She told Eudora much of what had happened during the afternoon. "I saw the Justiciar’s wife at the saltier’s. Several of the town ladies were talking just outside the shop. She asked if you had made up more of that hand ointment she likes so well."

"Bunch of gossiping old crows," Freda said her cap shaking with her head movement. Wisps of mousy gray-streaked hair had escaped shortly after this morning’s placement and still draped down her neck. "They all need honest employment for their idle hands."

"Crows are the Holy One’s messengers," Eudora said without inflection. Looking at Vesper she added, "I have some extra made. Tomorrow you can take some to her."

Hiding her reluctance Vesper nodded, wondering if Eudora knew what message the Holy One was spreading.

After dinner Freda left, wanting to get home before the night’s promised coldness settled. Eudora sat with Vesper near the warmth of the great brick stove. Already Eudora had banked the fire’s embers to last the night, so before long, as night’s cold entered, they would retire to the room they shared on the backside of the oven. It would stay warm there.

"Is that a Handfasting gift you work on?" Eudora asked, her own needle making even stitches in the cloth she worked.

"Yes."

"For Brandt?"

Vesper didn’t speak immediately, placing several careful stitches. "Is it wrong to think so?" she asked at last.

"Has he encouraged you?"

"He has spoken no words." Vesper said with absolute truthfulness. Her eyes flicked toward Eudora then back to the pocket pouch she embroidered. Fantastic animals cavorted amid a forest of trees and flowers.

"Sometimes they don’t need saying. It doesn’t seem appropriate."

Vesper wondered if she meant wanting Brandt and decided she meant the choice of the gift. "I meant to make foresleeves."

"Why didn’t you?"

"I don’t know." Vesper sat and escaped into her fantasy world for a moment before resuming her stitches. "This came to mind and I couldn’t let it go."

"The amulet buckle from your mother’s trunk would fit well in the pocket."

Vesper chewed on her lip, then looked at Eudora searching for the truth. Graceful and kind, even beautiful in an unusual way, Eudora had cared for Vesper with a patient, but stern, discipline. And surely love? Every evening she shared her wisdom and learning with Vesper, taught her all sorts of things the teaching master’s students would never encounter in his classroom. Eudora was the only mother she had known, but a mother in truth? Her past and her motives were a mystery to Vesper, for Eudora seldom spoke of herself. When Vesper asked, she turned the question or greeted it with silence. Finally Vesper asked. "My mother’s trunk?"

Eudora’s hands stilled their even pace. "Have tongues been wagging?" She looked at Vesper. "Yes, I thought so." She let the silence grow tendrils before speaking. "Your mother’s trunk. Not mine. Your mother’s."

"Your sister?"

"No. You have nothing to be ashamed of Vesper. Tomorrow I will give you the surgown from the trunk. I think she would have liked you to have it. You may change it as you wish. If you can sew Alvina’s gown so finely, I’m sure you can do so for yourself."

"Really, Eudora, tomorrow? Really?" Vesper asked her voice rising. "There is not much time, but the gown is lovely, nearly ageless in cut." Vesper hardly heard Eudora’s answer as she chattered about how to change the dress.

"Tomorrow. The silvery green will show your eyes well," Eudora encouraged. "You will look most becoming."