Tuesday, February 23, 2016

A Long Absence

Greetings, my friend!

I greatly apologize for my long absence since your last letter! You probably feared I was struck down by that illness that had swept through the court I had mentioned previously! Clearly, that is not the case. The reasons for my delay are much happier. If you recall, my friend Miri, is expecting her first child near the spring equinox. She is in good health and cheer, and the midwife thinks that the signs point to a boy, but that always remains to be seen. She and her man both are delighted, and have asked me if I would consent to being the child’s foster mother when it comes of age. Of course I said yes, and have been spending much of my free time with them, learning what they would want for their child in terms of learning, spirituality (I am relieved that Miri and her man are of the same mind as I regarding that!), and so forth. I am feeling the pressure of the responsibility, and the child isn’t even born yet. I cannot fathom the way Miri must be feeling!

The sickness that I mentioned in my last letter burnt itself out as swiftly as it came. It took a handful more elders who were ailing and not expected to see out the month, and then it was done. It is such a relief! Even Keith, the old stable master who fell, is still on the slow road to recovery. He may never walk on his own again, for he is terribly old. But at least it seems he is not in mortal danger at this point.

It seems that the plague traveled to you, though! I’m so sorry you were ill. Thank goodness for your wonderful lioness! What a clever girl! It sounds like she did do a bit of thieving for you, but it was for a good cause. Hopefully the villagers will understand, if they ever find out. I hope you don’t mind, but I was able to send some dried beans and corn along with this letter. Hopefully the chest made it to you and didn’t get stolen along the way. They will last forever and are quite filling. They also travel well, which may come in handy if you do take off after your captain. They would make a delicious soup with your sausage and greens. I hope they will help! Even the lioness – what a lovely, onomatopoetic name Murra is! – can eat them, though I’m sure she prefers meat if possible. When stewed with meat broth, the court hounds have made do in leaner months on beans and corn and bones. So have the people, come to think on it!

It sounds like you have some good opportunities opening up to move into the village. I know you love the lighthouse, but being nearer to people would also mean you are nearer to information as well. It could be a tolerable trade-off, at least temporarily. I know you have a wide range of things you could teach to the kitchen girls and maids for new dishes and stitches. You are so creative and skilled in so many things! If nothing else, it might be worth looking into. If you hate it, you can always return to the lighthouse and figure what to do from there! It needn’t be a permanent relocation.

It is interesting that you ask if I plan to travel further afield. While I adore the scriptorium and truly hadn’t thought to leave anytime soon, I did recently have the opportunity to travel to another scriptorium further south. Since the head scribe died, the scriptorium here has lost a bit of its shine for me. Not the work, for that is still a joy, but there is a pall lingering here. Indeed, I think if it wasn’t for my friendship with Miri, I might have moved on already. I might even have turned up at your lighthouse steps!

Anyhow, one of the Duke’s friends, Lord Fen, had need of a scribe for a brief trip south to visit one of his lesser holdings and I volunteered.  It was glorious to get out, get some fresh air, and see some of the land. I hadn’t ridden a horse since my arrival at Court; I’d forgotten exactly how sore riding makes me! But what beautiful land is just a few days’ ride away! It is like a whole new world. Court is in the high desert, but a few days away has us surrounded in lush, almost tropical forests. The people there have a very interesting culture as well with many fascinating myths. In a strange coincidence, my name is very similar to their native word for flower. No matter how I tried to tell them I had no connection to their culture in my family history, they insisted that I must be a long-distant relative and so treated me as a sister.

They have a delightful old man there. I don’t know what his function was or his name. Everyone calls him Grandfather, which is apropos because he appears to be as old as God and just about as revered. He is the repository of most of the myths and stories I learned while visiting Lord Fen’s holdings. I wrote down a few of them (included copies at the back for your amusement) and would dearly love to write them all down. It would take more lives than are allotted to me, though, and I still wouldn’t get to all the stories I suspect are hidden away in his memory.

I may get the chance to try, though. As it happens, Lord Fen’s steward needs a scribe and so I may be able to gain the patronage of a high-ranking nobleman. This surely will be to both our benefit, my friend! I have been in discussion both with the steward, a highly competent man named Bryan, and Lord Fen himself, to learn more details of what they expect from the position. There are a few details left to work out, but so far, it seems a suitable arrangement. I hope to have more news to share with you on this matter in my next letter.

If I take this new role, I will gain access to many scriptoriums and libraries in the course of my duties. There will be extensive travel involved, as the lord has numerous holdings across the land. His family, as I’m sure you know, is old and powerful, though fallen recently on hard times and as such, hasn’t had a position for a scribe while they were rebuilding their fortunes lost in the wars. I am fortunate to have come to his lordship’s notice, because just think of the network I could create in his employ! I do feel I would be truly beyond hope to pass up the opportunity. Perhaps I should conclude this letter and go seek out Bryan to give him my agreement!

I do have a very good feeling about this! Keep your fingers crossed! More news, hopefully, will follow soon. Until then, take good care and stay safe and may that captain of yours make his appearance at last! Pesky man…

Fondly,


~X

Saturday, January 30, 2016

From the lighthouse, January

My dear!

I have been lying in wait for the mail carrier in hopes he would come this far out into the snowy wastes. Finally he brought me your letter, sent so long ago! Brave man. I made him come inside and thaw out and drink a mug of tea for his heroic efforts, but I do not think he enjoyed it, given the lioness's dislike of strangers. She lay by the fire eyeing him mistrustfully the entire time, while he dripped melting snow from every fold of his clothing.

Do not worry, as I am better now, but I fell ill in a terrible storm just past the turn of the year and spent weeks in a fever. Indeed, only the lioness saved me. She went out into the storm and dragged back driftwood. I had blocked the door open when I felt the fever coming upon me, and tacked a heavy canvas over the doorway, so that she could come and go and should not be trapped inside with me. Nor indeed did I like the idea that she might eat my remains, to be honest, as surely any animal would if trapped. I confess my mind was not quite right as the fever mounted, so I was sure I was dreaming the lioness bringing me driftwood, but I put it onto the fire anyway and it kept us both warm. But I'm afraid I became terribly weak and thin during this time. My health has only just begun to return. The lioness also brought me chickens and strings of fish, which I fear she must have stolen from some neighbors. You can see why I was afraid I was going mad, but the feathers and bones remain to tell the tale.

The scriptorium has been hard hit with illness and injury this winter! I hope that no more have come to harm in this harsh time of year. But here in the snows I like to imagine you all surrounded by warm sands under a comforting sun. I am so sorry for your losses and hope the rest of you are well.

Beans, corn, and squash sound glorious! The lioness and I--I call her Murra, for that is the contented sound she makes when she is cozy and comfortable and taking up far more than half the bed--will be forced to decamp as soon as the weather permits, I'm sorry to say, for I have come to like this lighthouse very much, especially the fine views over the ocean, when the wind relents enough to permit me to open the shutters. The blue and white glittering shores will be imprinted on my memory forever.

The captain we spoke of previously has not yet made his way to port, the postman tells me. So I have hope that I might catch him yet! I regret to say I traded my box of paints to a farm wife with five small children in exchange for the most tremendous quantity of sausages and dried greens. At least, it seems tremendous to me. The greens are especially welcome. I am going up and down those stairs again, very slowly at first, I admit, to try to gain back the strength I lost. We must travel into town soon to try to catch the captain when he docks. The postman says the captain always stays in town for a few days, but then again weather must always be a factor. I would hate to miss him.

The farm wife says that Queen Ellie down at the Anchor will always let a young lady stay over in the winter months for free in exchange for cooking and teaching the kitchen girls new dishes, so I can certainly try that, so I will be close enough when the captain arrives. If I feed her enough, Murra will be happy to sleep in any warm corner for as long as you like. Come to think of it, I would be happy to sleep in any warm corner, if fed enough. I feel I shall never be full and I am so starved, I am always cold. I'm wearing every stitch of clothing I own! Maybe Queen Ellie will trade me some old woolen dresses for teaching the maids new embroidery stitches. A girl can dream!

I have sent a note off to the Anchor with the postman and will send this as soon as he returns. I hope you are doing well with your researches and finding the answers to your queries! Do you plan to search farther afield, or will you stay at the scriptorium? I will write to you there, so I hope the other scribes will forward mail on for you if you strike out for richer resources.

This winter has been hard on you, my friend! Sending you all good wishes and hopes,

A.

Monday, January 4, 2016

From the Scriptorium, just past the New Year

From the Scriptorium, just past the New Year

Hello, my friend!

Your letter made me laugh to image the mail carrier’s expression! If the lighthouse was even half as run down as you’d described it when you first took up residency, I can only imagine the townsfolk must have thought it abandoned long ago. Perhaps he thought he was going to come face to face with a ghost!

Your lioness sounds like a wise creature not to go out in weather like that! It’s cold even here. It must be bitter and bone-chilling by the sea. Does the lioness have a name? Well, certainly she must have a name she calls herself; if only we could understand more of what they say! I wonder what our animal friends name us?

Ha! Your sister is adept at getting to information that doesn’t want to be discovered. She should work as a spy. I am glad she’s doing well. Maybe you should give her the most boring version of the truth possible. Perhaps that will stop rumors and allow actual fact to surface which could be of some use to you. Of course, I don’t know her or the villagers nearly as well as you do, so I could be way off, but that tactic has worked for me in the past quite admirably!

Some odd things have happened here of late. First, Keith, the elderly and much beloved former stable master, took a bad fall down some steps and broke his hip. The physician did all he could and the old man is resting in reasonable comfort. In a younger person, it would be a bad but recoverable injury, but in such an old one, well…we are waiting.

As if his accident wasn’t enough, the whole court has been laid low with a bad illness. I hesitate to call it a plague, for it is not that same dreaded pestilence from history, nor does it seem as deadly. It has hit the old ones hard, though, and those who were already sickly or recovering from an illness or injury. Hence why we are doubly concerned for Keith. We lost a handful of elders suffering from a lung disease, an injured sentry whose wound had begun to fester, and a woman recently brought to childbed with a difficult delivery. As hard as these deaths are to bear, there are three that I find terribly disturbing: the head cook, her assistant, and the head scribe who had given me my job in the scriptorium. Aside from my personal sadness, for she had taken me under her wing since my arrival and was excellent in her duties, these three were in excellent health. I can’t put my finger on it, but I feel something is wrong here. Maybe I’m just unsettled from all the other things that have been happening. We have all been taking extra work in the scriptorium and in the kitchens to help cover the work that needs doing in the absence of these women.

At least we have had a bountiful harvest of squash this season. The Three Sisters – beans, corn, and squash – are the staple foods in the desert. We should have plenty of stores to get us through the drought of summer, but we’ll have to be careful. How odd to consider summer the season of short supply! But it’s so hot and dry here that nothing can grow, so they store up food in preparation for summer… I imagine I shall be as tired of the Sisters as you are of fish before long!

I hope you are happy in your research, despite the weather, and that my letter hasn’t unsettled you as well. I shall be glad when spring arrives. One of the other scribes, Miri, has become a friend. She has her first baby due near the spring equinox. I am looking forward to playing the doting “auntie.”

Off to the kitchens with me, which is strange…

~X