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Chapter 9: The Debt is Paid
November 2, 1843
Dear Bruce,
I have at last finished unpacking! Well, I suppose I didn't do much of the work, but Barda and Vanessa certainly deserve an award for all their efforts. I rearranged my room a bit too, with Aunt Martha's consent of course, and now my desk sits directly in front of my window instead of beside it. Vanessa thought this was in bad taste and told me so, but I informed her that it was my room and she could decorate hers as she pleased, she didn't argue and I thought I caught Barda beginning to smile but it may have been a trick of the light. That brings me to my next endeavor, Barda. With all the excitement of moving in finally dying down, I confess I don't know exactly what to do with myself. So I have made a list of accomplishments I plan to encounter on. (I am not sure accomplishments is the correct word but it does sound very fancy, don't you think?) Anyways, I shall list them for you here.
1. Take a thorough look through late Uncle Jonathan's library for at least one volume of truly good poetry. (The English are so tame with their words that it is dreadfully boring.) However, I suspect a copy of truly tantalizing wordplay may well be just within reach!
2. Claim Miss Lucy Lane as a friend and inspire her to have a voice of her own! I have enlisted Kara's help in this, though she believes it to be a lost cause.
3. Learn to embroider, (Aunt Martha's idea.)
4. Walk to every tenant's farm on the estate if necessary in search of Thomasina. (Mrs. Lane's missing pug dog.)
5. And finally, make Big Barda laugh!
I know that putting Barda at the end of the list may make that task seem less important but the opposite is true. Hers is my first task but I left it last for impact. She seems completely devoid of humor or even the ability to look pleased, so I have made it my mission to make her laugh! If for no other reason than to see if her voice is capable of making any other noise besides the word no! She really is very infuriating, and I now understand even less why Aunt Martha made her my maid, for I overheard the Cook talking to Desmond about her when Kara and I went to sneak some biscuits. Apparently, Barda's employment is just as much of a mystery to them as me. According to Cook, she arrived at Riverfoot Hall about a week before I did and practically demanded employment. She had nothing with her but a small bag that was hardly large enough to hold a petticoat let alone a rational person's belongings. Then Desmond said that he didn't think Aunt Martha, or the Countess, as he calls her, ever officially hired her because all he heard from listening through the keyhole was Barda give her name, no surname mind you just her given name, announced that she was the new maid and that she preferred to room alone. Apparently, those were also the last words either Desmond or the Cook has ever heard Barda say for she hasn't so much as acknowledged the other servant's existence since her arrival unless absolutely necessary. At this point, Kara had grown tired of eavesdropping and left but I wanted to learn more so I stayed crouched behind a flour barrel so as not to be seen. Which was no easy task since I had to hold my skirts around my legs to keep them from billowing out and giving away my hiding place…Anyways back to Barda, Cook said she thinks that Barda isn't a woman at all because of her ox-like strength and the fact that she is undeniably a giant! I am ashamed to admit that I did watch her very closely over the next two days in an attempt to see if she perhaps had one of those large knobs at the throat that men have or perhaps very closely shaved facial hair but alas she does not, and I also have to admit that I feel quite foolish for having assumed this idea plausible for in reality, Barda does not look mannish, it is just that she doesn't behave as the other maids do. Really Bruce she seems to have no idea how to be a personal maid at all and actually managed to pull a chunk of my hair out the other night when she was supposed to be braiding it (the only hairstyle she knows for hers is always in a loose ponytail) and my screams actually brought Aunt Martha running to my room, who then promptly decided that Vanessa will handle getting me ready in the mornings and Barda will handle cleaning up Kara's room in exchange for the assistance. At first, I thought this decision would offend Barda but she didn't seem to care either way and just went back about her business. Of course, Aunt Martha said it so kindly that it is impossible to think anyone could ever be upset with anything she asks of them. She really is remarkable, I hope to make her proud of me and I have been trying to emulate her calm presence, but alas I have been failing because being calm is frightfully dull! (Kara's words not mine.) Oh another piece of news, though hardly an interesting bit, is that I have begun lessons with Ms. Spencer. They are going fine, I suppose, but I have realized that Ms. Spencer does not see any error in herself or the manners of the English. Thus far I have kept silent as I do not know as much as she does in that regard but her know-it-all tone is getting tiresome and I hope I will have the strength to endure her presence. I have to go now for I can hear Ellen calling me. I'll write again soon.
Sincerely,
Lady Diana Princeton
Diana slid the letter between two books to keep it flat and left to answer her summons.
Exiting the room she was almost run over by Kara who was attempting to flee down the hall.
In her arms was what appeared to have once been a chicken.
The creature, doused in dark blue ink, was struggling with all its might against its captor. But, Kara was not giving it any chance to escape and gripped the bird to her pinafore. Which was also stained with ink.
A hand holding it to her chest, another clamped down on the beast's beak to keep it from squawking, she held her captive with iron strength.
"DIANA! Quick let me in!"
Diana jumped aside.
The blonde vigilante flew into the room, kicking the door shut behind her.
Pounding and wheezing Desmond struggled to crest the stairs.
"W-W-Which…..W-W-Way?"
He panted and sputtered for breath. Wiping the downpour of sweat streaming down his puffy red face with his sleeve.
Diana pointed down the hall.
Desmond took off! His fat body wheezing and sputtering as he went.
He rounded the corner and Kara opened the door.
Poking her head out, glancing rapidly down the hall.
Sure he was gone she nodded her thanks to Diana and took off running down the staircase.
Diana watched her go, trying to decipher what was going.
"Diana?"
"COMING!"
Kara and her escapades would have to wait.
Picking up her skirts she hurried down the stairs.
"Diana?"
"Coming Aunt Martha!"
Diana entered the found parlor to find her Aunt reading over a letter.
Martha looked up and smiled.
She curtsied and Martha motioned for her to join her on the sofa.
Diana plopped down next to her. Smiling at the familiar sound of Martha's taffeta mourning gown swish as the older woman made room for her.
"I've received a letter from your cousins."
"Are Clark and Dinah coming to visit?"
"No dear, these are your father's cousins. Artemis and Alexandra Troy."
"Oh."
Diana had forgotten she had other family. Curious, she tried to recall if these were the two women that Bruce had referred to as men haters.
Aunt Martha began to read.
Artemis had pinned the letter in her normal militaristic fashion.
Martha,
I assume by now that the girl has arrived.
"The girl! She couldn't bother to know my name?"
"Don't take it personally Diana. Artemis has always had trouble remembering what she considers non-vital information. But don't be fooled, she knows exactly who you are, and is very interested."
Martha continued.
Since you refused our request for her to be raised alongside her Troy cousins.
Martha's eyebrows furrowed.
"Artemis is also not one for letting things go."
I find myself in the position of demanding requesting that you allow her contact with them. I will await your reply for when the children can visit, at your home of course as you have deemed ours unsuitable.
Martha smiled slightly. Showing Diana where another hand had scratched a line through Artemis's words and written in neat letters underneath.
If it would not be imposing, Donna and Cassandra are very eager to meet their cousin.
Signed,
Artemis Troy
"Alexa must have written that in. She was always the more congenial of the two. This letter is very Artemis, short and to the point."
"What does she mean by unsuitable?"
Martha sighed.
"When we were told that you had survived a meeting was called of your blood relations. Since they're your father's first cousins Artemis and Alexandra were privy to the events. Though they failed to attend the meeting in person."
"Why didn't they come?"
"The twins don't socialize much. In fact, I can't remember the last time they left their brother's house let alone Lancashire."
"Why do they live at their brother's house? Bruce said they didn't like men."
"Did he? Well, that is correct. However, they have little choice in the matter."
"Why not? If they do not care for their brother why must they live in his house? Can't they just leave?"
"The Troy's are a respectable family but one of modest means. As two spinsters they have no husbands to provide for them or inheritances. They are dependent on their brother's generosity. An unfortunate reality but one that must be accepted."
Diana crinkled her nose.
She wasn't sure how accepting she would be of having to live under the roof of someone she despised.
"Luckily Zeus is hardly ever in residence. He prefers the solace and order of the navy to his sisters' company."
"Is that why I did not go to live with them?"
"I admit the answer to that is selfishness on my part. Artemis and Alexandra offered, well more demanded, that you live with them. So you would be reared by your father's family. But I refused to hear it. I wanted you to live here with us, with me. To be raised the way Hippolyta would have wished…I wanted to be sure you were safe…to have a piece of my sister with me once more."
Tears glistened in Martha's eyes as she looked at Diana; as if looking through a window to the past.
Taking her hand she brushed a stray curl away from the younger girl's face.
"You are so like her…forgive me, child, I know you are not your mother. But I so wanted to know you, to love you as your own mother would if she were alive."
Martha enveloped her niece in a loving embrace as a few resilient tears spilled down her cheeks.
Diana returned the embrace with fierceness. She wanted to protect this kind woman who loved her. But, her heart sank as she thought of Martha's words.
To love you as your own mother would if she were alive.
She is alive Aunt Martha. Will you ever acknowledge that she exists? Do you realize what you have stolen from her? Can I even speak her name without causing you more pain?
Martha pulled away and straightened, wiping the few stray tears from her cheeks. Diana wondered why the English seemed to value being so reserved.
"Goodness, it must be nearly two o'clock, you should be on your way. It would be most impolite to keep Mr. Pennyworth waiting."
Diana smiled in delight. She had forgotten that it was Wednesday!
"And while you're gone I will write Artemis and invite your cousins to a nice long stay here with us for Christmas. Would you like that?"
Diana nodded while she racked her brain. Trying to remember when and what Christmas was.
"Good, well then off you pop."
Diana stood and kissed her Aunt's cheek before running out of the room.
Martha smiled as she watched her go.
Ellen was waiting for her at the door with her bonnet and cape.
She held out a pair of white gloves and Diana's expression turned to disgust.
She begrudgingly took them. Mentally deciding not to wear them, a decision that would have no doubt scandalized her aunt.
She hated wearing gloves. It was a constant battle of trying to keep them clean and remembering when to put them on and when to take them off. Besides they didn't even fit! Not since she had managed to grow another two inches! Ugh! It was so infuriating!
Taking the hated accessory she hurried out the front door. She bolted for the carriage, only to have her spirits dampened by the unwelcome sight of Barda. Waiting, unsmiling, with arms, crossed at the carriage door.
Her decision to make amends with the giantess already forgotten Diana struggled to conceal her irritation.
Forcing a smile she tried to make her voice sound sweet.
"Hello, Barda."
The maid didn't respond.
"You really don't have to come along...Aunt Martha said I didn't need a companion to visit Mr. Pennyworth... I am sure there are many other things you would rather do."
Apparently not.
The giantess's opened the carriage door and climbed inside.
Diana dropped the act and let out a frustrated groan before getting in the carriage. Taking a seat beside her silent watcher.
The carriage lurched into motion and Diana crossed her arms, staring straight ahead.
Why does she always come along?!
The carriage rolled along the familiar road in sulky silence.
After a good twenty minutes, Diana decided to not let Barda's unwanted and constant presence ruin her day. She took great pleasure in their weekly visits to Mr. Pennyworth and would have to put Barda out of her mind.
The Carriage Stopped.
She looked out the window to see they were only halfway to the Castle.
A man with thick-rimmed glasses and a bushy mustache was standing on the edge of the road. Beside him stood a young girl of about twelve holding a large picnic basket.
She was watching the man, her back turned to the vehicle.
Diana saw a red braid escape her wide-set bonnet and fall down her shoulders.
Diana's breath caught in her throat.
For a moment, just one moment her eyes played tricks on her.
Shayera?
With joy surging in her breast she began to call out to her, to her sister.
Raising an arm out the window she waved.
Before the name escaped the girl turned. Diana saw pale blue eyes looking back at her.
Her surging joy doused like a weak flame.
Arranging her face into a polite smile.
Of course, it isn't her, that would be impossible…quite impossible.
The carriage lumbered to a stop and Baxter hopped down from the driver's seat.
"Commissioner! Is everything alright Sir?"
The Commissioner wiped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief.
"Baxter! Thank you for stopping. Would you mind giving us a ride back to Gotham? It looks like rain and I'm afraid we won't make it back before it breaks."
Baxter looked hesitantly back to the carriage.
"I'll have to ask the lady but if she agrees I can take you to the fork. I'm driving the young miss up to the manor."
"Oh? Well, I'd be grateful for the lift. I am sure we can make there."
Baxter headed towards the carriage.
Diana had been craning to hear but had only been able to catch snippets of the conversation.
"Milady, this is Commissioner Gordon of the Gotham police department. He was a friend of your late uncle's."
Diana studied the strangers with curiosity.
"He asked if we could give them a ride so they can get home before the rain."
"Of course we will! Barda move over!"
Barda made a huffing noise. Sliding over so the seat across from Diana was free.
Everyone now seated comfortably in the carriage, except Barda, whose long legs were now un-mercilessly cramped in.
As the cart lurched into motion the gentleman offered his thanks.
"Thank you Lady Princeton."
"Diana, please."
The gentleman nodded and smiled.
"I am Commissioner James Gordon, and this is my daughter Barbara."
"How do you do."
Barbara smiled as she looked Diana square in the eye.
Diana smiled back.
"Gossip says that you spent 13 years in the Far East."
"Barbara! Don't be rude!"
"It's alright, yes I was."
"So do you speak Arabic?"
"Yes."
Barbara's smile grew and she slapped her hands together.
"Teach me!"
They struck up a conversation and time passed with impressive speed. Until Baxter pulled the carriage to a halt and the two ceased their giggling and chatting.
Barbara had managed to learn two phrases, albeit poorly, in Arabic. "Hello, my name is" and "I would like to buy a camel and some cheese."
In return she taught Diana a few words of French that she had picked up from a book. Apple, Pomme, Wig, Perruque, and Actress, Actrice.
Diana wasn't sure if that last one should count since they both sounded the same to her.
When the carriage stopped Diana lowered the window to get a better look at the city.
It was dark, with tall buildings climbing into the sky, taller than anything she had ever seen. From the city billowed a black cloud of soot and ash that seemed to engulf the landscape in a grayish haze.
"It is horrible." Said Diana.
Barbara stuck her head out the window.
"Yes, it isn't very elegant. But, Gotham is the largest industrial city in the empire! It houses even more factories than London! And Dad says that at the rate the population is growing that it may soon be one of the wealthiest as well." said Barbara.
"And one of the most crime-ridden." Mumbled the Commissioner.
Diana turned to ask him what he was talking about but he was already getting out of the carriage.
The Commissioner's boots sunk into the mud of the road as he reached up and lifted Barbara down.
"Thank you for the lift Lady Diana, please give my best to your Aunt."
The Commissioner gave a little bow and began walking toward the monstrous city.
"Goodbye, Diana!"
"Goodbye Barbara please come to visit soon!"
"I will!"
The father-daughter duo walked side by side down the road.
Diana watched them go.
Would my father have gone on picnics?
The carriage started again and rolled up the road to Wayne Castle.
Wayne Manor
Finishing their tea Alfred and Diana sat on the settee chatting.
Barda sat in her straight-backed chair looking out the window.
"I have been doing some tidying up since your last visit and I have found some articles of Master Wayne's collection you might find interesting. Would you care to see?"
Diana nodded excitedly and stood.
Alfred led the way to the door. Pausing he turned and bowed toward the seated figure across the room.
"Miss Barda."
Barda ignored them. Continuing to stare out the window.
Alfred remained unfazed by this rudeness and resumed his role as tour guide.
They walked down one expansive hall after another.
Alfred prattling happily about this painting or that tapestry. Peppering the conversation with tidbits about the castle and the Waynes long residence there.
"The Wayne's have resided here since the 9th century. Though they were not the first lords of this castle, which was a mere shadow of its present self in those days. They served the first family who ruled here as trappers and traders. Through various means, they themselves were able to buy the place in the 12th century. When the merchant class was on the rise. The Wayne's have always been good at making money. It wasn't until the reign of King Henry VIII that they gained their peerage. That is when the first Bruce Wayne was created Duke of Connaught. Master Bruce was named for this ancestor."
Diana nodded, only half listening.
The story seemed interesting, but, it was too doused in history for her to follow.
Alfred ceased talking.
Waiting for her to begin the next topic of conversation. She didn't keep him waiting.
"Why are you so considerate to Barda? She doesn't deserve it."
Alfred lifted an eyebrow.
"And why is that?"
"She has been nothing but rude. She never takes part in the afternoon, just sits and broods. Aunt Martha even said she didn't have to come but here she is! Following me around and sulking like the giant ogress she is!"
Alfred listened to her complaints.
They walked in silence, Diana waiting for him to respond.
"Very few are privileged enough to fashion their lives into what they want them to be. Even fewer think of how life is affecting others. Don't judge others too harshly by what you see Diana. Never forget, no matter how callous one may seem, no one is immune to hurt."
Alfred opened a door.
"I think you are really going to like this. Master Bruce brought it back all the way from Japan!"
November 14, 1843, The Knight's Revenge somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea.
Bruce placed the lid on the inkwell and adjusted his desk chair.
A place for everything….
Looking down he picked up the letter he'd just finished reading.
Smiling again at the artful flourishes and swoops of the signature he carefully folded it and put it with the others. Tying them together with the dark blue ribbon.
And everything in its place…
As a last thought, he placed the letters in a desk drawer and locked it. Putting the key in his breast pocket.
Crossing the cabin to the mirror on the far wall he checked the styling of his cravat.
It felt odd to be so formally dressed while on board his ship.
A knock on the door rang in his ears and he squared his shoulders.
"Come in."
"They've arrived Captain. They're boarding now."
"Thank you, Grayson."
The first mate nodded before turning toward the door.
"John."
His friend turned.
"How many are there?"
"Enough…eight ships and a good baker's dozen coming over in the longboats, I just hope the added weight doesn't sink us."
The corners of Bruce's mouth twitched.
"Thank you."
John nodded again and headed back up on deck, followed by Bruce.
On one side of the ship stood his crew, lined up.
On the opposite side was the Crown Prince.
Surrounded glittering companions dressed in the finest silks.
Prince Abdullah was 29 years old, dark, handsome and literally dripping with jewels.
He smiled. Showing a line of straight pearl white teeth beneath his full beard and curling mustache.
Bruce bowed.
"Your Highness."
The Prince yawned.
He gestured towards the chests that sat between the two sides.
One of his companions bowed and rushed forward. Opening the chest and pulling up a fist of coins letting them fall into the chest with an echoing plunk.
He turned back towards his prince and said something in Arabic.
Bruce was able to detect the words trick and fair payment.
He must have thought his threats would not be enough.
Bruce stepped forward.
Addressing the group who so far had been content to ignore him and his crew.
"It's all here, the exact amount you asked for."
The Prince's entourage fell silent.
Abdullah flashed a friendly smile.
In sluggish English, he responded.
"As per my father's agreement with you, an honest and fair transaction on both parts."
"I don't know if I would call selling your sister honest."
The Prince's companions who understood the westerner's words stiffened.
"My mother's ward has served her purpose. As for my sister…her task awaits her."