Previously in The Exile
To Ms. Jenafere of Alfonsa's Boarding House
Having inquired after your character I have received glowing responses from several mutual acquaintances and should like to speak with myself to determine if you would be suitably for employment at his hospice. I should like to offer you consideration for the physician's assistant position. If this is still your desire as well you are scheduled to meet with me ten days hence at the hour of ten.
If this position is no longer to your liking or some previous appointment makes the interview impossible please send word right away so that other arrangements might be made. Otherwise I shall meet with you then...Chapter XIX
The Exile
-Part II, Guinevere Called Jenafere-
Chapter XXV: Unseemly Women
Gwen's eyes traced the gleaming golden wood paneling of the parlor walls, there was a rabbit head in the random set of squiggles and wood veins. Medical papers and logs were scattered about her on the parlor floor, the little table they used for games, and along the padded oak bench where she sat. She'd spent the better part of the last four days studying. She didn't know what Physician Pradeep would ask her, but she wished to be as prepared as possible. She knew the common herbs, their uses and identifying features and potential dangers as well the common illnesses, infections, their symptoms and treatments.
The evening breeze stirred the curtains and again her attention drifted with salt tang of the air. A walk might be nice, but she needed to study.
She had absorbed everything Ylsa explained to her about humors, infections and cleanliness. What Gwen didn't understand was the unseen miasma of potential illness that hung over everything. Ylsa insisted that it was there and Ylsa's patients almost never developed infections. So the mid-wife must be right.
Sometimes Gwen wished that she could see it, others times it sounded like something that existed in nightmares, a fog thick and murky full of unseen things waiting for their chance. Guinevere shivered at her thoughts and glanced out the window.
Ylsa and Ms. Alfonsa took turns sitting with her, talking with her about the practice at the infirmary as well as telling her what Physician Pradeep was like. She felt perhaps she might have some advantage. The hospice was for poor and working folk, folk like herself. She understood them in a way that most physicians would not. She would treat them with respect, they would trust her and that would make her better able to treat them. Surely, this was an asset. As for Physician Pradeep…well Ms. Alfonsa and Ylsa had both told her not to let him intimidate her, as he was certain to try. Lord Agravaine had tried to intimidate her too-had intimidated her actually-but she had found her voice with him, and she would do so with Physician Pradeep.
There had been no more dreams of Arthur in peril and she hoped that that was for the good. Hoped that she had dreamt of a dire moment that now passed and not his death. Worry for him was still with her, though not as strong since she'd left her letter with the Scribner. She'd checked daily and so far no one had come to carry a letter to Camelot. News could not come soon enough.
Gwen studied a drawing of several different types of Willow whose bark was used to ease the pain of headache or menstrual cramps. Every physician knew how to recognize these.
"Ms. Jennnn!"
Guinevere looked up from the drawing at the sound of that boyish shout. as running feet came pounding down the hall. A moment later the parlor door burst open.
"Hi, Ms. Jen," Esobal stood in the doorway grinning and wearing a formal length, summer weight tunic in blue with green and yellow embroidery. "Mom said we were coming to see you and you were studying hard for a position, so I brought you a rabbit's foot from the market."
The boy held out the rabbit's foot to her and Gwen took it with a sigh.
"Thank you, Esobal." She smiled at the boy's earnestness in spite of herself.
"You're welcome, Ms. Jen. It's better than a frog isn't it?" He nodded grinning.
"Yes it is."
"Esobal," Ambry appeared in the doorway wearing a gown as blue as the summer sky, "Don't disturb Ms. Jen."
"Mom's gonna 'sturb her anyway," Esobal explained turning to face his sister. "She wants Ms. Jen to come with us to the coliseum." He turned back to her. "Are you gonna come with us to the coliseum, Ms. Jen? It'll be fun. We're going to Lysis-" He frowned. "Lysisississ- strata. We're going to see 'Strata," he finished with a firm nod.
Gwen tousled the boy's hair with a smile.
"Lysistrata, dummy," Ambry said and sat down on one of the stools.
"Ambry," Gwen admonished the girl for calling her brother names.
"Sorry."
"Where did you place in the calligraphy contest?" Gwen asked.
"Third," Ambry said brightly.
"Well done. I would like to see it."
"Would you? The next time you come for dinner I can show it to you." Ambry smiled.
"Hi, Jen, how is the studying going?" Ylsa asked walking into the parlor, Adras just behind her.
"Well I suppose."
Ylsa began picking up the logs and stacking them neatly.
"Hi, mom," Esobal ran to his mother and threw his arms around her hips. "I asked Ms. Jen if she would come with us, but she didn't say."
"So you've beaten me to the punch."
"Hmm?"
Adras smiled down at the boy and ruffled his hair before looking up at them, a faint smile playing about the corners of her mouth.
"Well, Ms. Jen, will you accompany us to the coliseum?"
Adras was also dressed in blue and Guinevere had a sudden desire to see them together for a family portrait. That woman, Isobelle, whom Adras had called wife, had worn blue in her portrait. Perhaps that was why Adras chose it now.
"Will you?" Esobal looked at her expectantly.
"I don't know...I have this interview tomorrow."
"And you're such a serious and focused young woman, I imagine you've been studying everyday since you learnt of it, and are more than prepared." Adras smiled. "In fact, I suspect an evening out would put you in just the right mood for the interview."
Gwen hesitated. She'd read Lysistrata more times than she could count. It was one of her favorite plays and they'd often acted out scenes on long winter nights. She looked at the family's lovely formal wear.
"I don't have anything appropriate really to wear."
"You can borrow something of mine," Ylsa volunteered."You should really see the coliseum, Jen, and Adras gets the best seats."
"Tonight we have private seats, actually, and dinner is included."
Adras looked pleased with herself, and Gwen sighed.
"Well I suppose I had just better go then," she said in capitulation.
"That's probably best," Adras nodded and looked altogether too pleased with herself.
"You two came in together?" Gwen asked just a little curious.
"I have a mother in Adras' neighborhood; she was kind enough to bring me home in the cart."
"Oh."
"Let's go find something to wear."
"You're going, too?"
"Nope, I have a gentlemen caller this evening. Tonight is gentlemen's night at The Aphrodite, and since I know the owner, I get the best treatment, so my gentlemen and I are going." Ylsa flashed a smile at Adras.
"You own a gaming house?" Gwen asked.
"Actually it's a lady's gaming house, spa and salon. However, once a month our guests are allowed to bring their gentlemen."
"Oh." Gwen felt more than a little curious. This gaming house of Adras' seemed like it might be a bit like being at Ms. Alfonsa's, only with expensive food and games.
"You'll have to come by one evening. But now, go get changed."
Ylsa loaned Gwen a bright pink gown that brought a warm, flushed look to her cheeks and they dressed her hair with ribbons and dried flowers. Gwen in turn helped Ylsa into a sun-colored dress that gleamed against her skin and then helped her sculpt her cloud-like mane until it framed her face like a crown.
"The two of you are a vision," Adras said with a smile when they returned to the parlor. "Ylsa, I can always send word to your gentleman friend that you've changed your mind and decided to accompany me to the coliseum. No one would blame you."
"Adras, you are a darling and you make a tempting offer. It would ,however, be a terribly rude and flighty thing to do to my friend." Ylsa fluttered her eyelashes at Adras, and Gwen blushed faintly at the open flirting between the two women.
"Oh, very well. Knowing that Jenafere has chosen to grace me with her company greatly soothes my troubled brow. Therefore, I shall submit to the demands of polite behavior." Adras extended her arm to Guinevere, who took it with a smile.
Esobal and Ambry came in just then, sharing a handful of sweets from the kitchen.
"Have a good evening, Ylsa. Thank you for the loan of the dress."
"You're welcome. Enjoy the coliseum."
"You look really pretty Ms. Jen," Esobal said.
"Thank you."
Theudeburt arrived just as Gwen was leaving with Adras and the children. He was a tall man with close cropped hair and skin as dark as Ylsa's. Gwen felt the faintest stirring of envy upon seeing him. But then she was confronted with Adras' cart and found herself hesitating.
She appreciated the cart, she did. It was convenient, but it wasn't like the open air carts nobles in Camelot used. In Camelot they had simple carts firmly attached to four wheels. This cart, Adras' cart, was a full, closed box of fancifully carved golden wood suspended between wheels, with chains. This would be her third time riding in it and she was confident Adras would never endanger her children. It didn't stop Gwen from having just a bit of fear about the vehicle.
"You're not thinking of changing you mind because the cart are you?" Adras leant down and whispered the question in her ear. "It's perfectly safe. I assure you."
"Of course it is," Gwen replied. "It just looks like its not."
Adras laughed and Gwen did allow the driver to help her into the cart. Ambry and Esobal sat on one of the padded benches lining the long wall of the cart, Gwen and Adras chose to sit opposite them. Leaving the shorter benches at the front and back empty. With a rattle of the suspension chains the cart gave a little lurch and started forward.
The noise of the cart didn't stop Adras and the children from talking about the play they were going to see. Warfare in particular and stopping it seemed an important topic to Adras.
"But, mom, you're a hero," Esobal protested. "And Uncle Gwaine is a knight."
Ambry smirked at this and kept her eyes on her little brother.
"I defended our home and the things we have built here from those who would take them by violence, but war ruins everything. It is how thoughtless, vile beings chose to solve problems."
Esobal looked at his mother and Gwen could see him trying to understand.
"It eats up lives and ruins businesses and leaves everyone miserable, even the supposed winners."
Esobal frowned. "The winners?"
"If you are a conquering force, then you have to hold the land and people you conquer under your control through violence and terror. You have to spend the lives of people and resources by killing and hurting other people. These are people and resources that could be put to other more productive work. You also live in fear that the people you have conquered will one day turn and kill you, which always happens sooner or later. If not to you then to your children, or grandchildren."
"Oh." The boy looked at her with a solemn face. "Why do people sing about war like it is good then?"
"Because people are stupid," Ambry said.
Adras sighed and smiled ruefully before nodding.
Everyone went silent then. Guinevere thought about all the witch hunts, the burnings, the torture. No one had ever thought of Uther as a conqueror; all agreed that the old government had to go. And they weren't going by any means other than violence. But then the war on magic had come. It happened just as Adras had described-a constant battle between magic users and non-magic users, and lives lived in fear. Guinevere sighed.
If she had been queen of Camelot in that moment she would have halted all persecution of magic users no matter the consequence.
"Something on your mind?" Adras asked.
"Nothing really. Just thinking about the truth of what you said. In war ,even the winners are losers."
Adras nodded.
"Excuse me, mom."
"Yes, Esobal?"
"Francesca's family is in the private seating as well. Can I visit her?"
"Yes, you can make a short visit just before dinner is served."
"Thanks, mom." Esobal grinned.
"Have you ever been to the coliseum Ms. Jen?" Ambry asked her.
"No." Gwen turned her attention to the girl.
"Then look." Ambry lifted one of the curtains and pointed out the window.
Gwen felt her eyes go wide. Camelot had nothing like this.
The coliseum stood three stories high, which was not impressive in and of itself. No, it was the arches, a parade of arches three stories high, lit up with torches, lanterns and bobbing lights that Gwen knew must be witch light. And there was the roar. The underlying murmur of so many humans acting and speaking filled the background and blotted out everything else. As they drew close, she saw that the Senate continued its trend of imitating the empire in all things. Statues of Mercury, Apollo, Jupiter and Minerva, the old gods of Rome, made their own circle around the coliseum. There were several statues she did not recognize, and Ambry explained that those were the patrons of the coliseum itself.
The cart came to a stop, and as the driver opened the door, a scent most fragrant and unexpected hit them, warm and heavy with the tantalizing smell of cooking food.
They alighted near an arch with two ushers and no line.
"It is for those that have private seats," Adras explained.
"Oh, I see. Special treatment?"
"Just a little, but life is so trying." Adras sighed and Guinevere laughed at that.
"Ms. Adras," an older usher with a pale balding head, a slight paunch and deathly solemn look about himself greeted them with a smile as they approached the podium. "I understand we have special seats for you tonight."
"That's right, Aderen."
"Well, they are the best seats in the house and you are sure to enjoy them." He was very serious as he spoke. "In fact, once you've had the pleasure of dinner and theater I guarantee you won't want any other experience."
The man reminded her almost instantly of George, and Gwen had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing. There was pride in your work, and then there was, well, George.
"Miss, have you ever been to the coliseum?"
Guinevere shook her head.
"Then you are in for a real treat. Though, I am afraid you might be a bit spoilt having our private seats the first time out."
"I see."
"Ms. Jenafere, this is Aderen," said Adras, making introductions.
"Ahh, Ms. Jenafere, what a lovely name. You are in for a real treat."
The usher led them up one-and-a-half flights of stairs to a floor between the first and second balconies. They entered and followed him past three narrow, curtained doors. The usher stopped at the fourth.
Aderen lifted the curtain and the gentle glow of beeswax candle light poured into the hall. Curious, Gwen peaked round the edges of the door frame.
There was a square covered with a bright white linen table cloth and laid for four. The room's walls were made of clear gleaming glass, and Gwen wondered at that. Making large panes of clear, perfect glass was difficult at best. Magic perhaps. Esobal started forward and Adras stopped him.
"Ms. Jen is our guest."
"Sorry," the boy said. "You first Ms. Jen."
"Thank you, Esobal." she smiled down at the child and then flashed a smile to his mother. Gwen went to the seat furthest from the door and gasped as she looked out the window. The arena was a living mass of people, row upon row of them, nearly upon the stage itself.
"Can they see us?" she asked the usher as Ambry, Esobal, and Adras filed in.
"No, ma'am," the usher said with pride. "This coliseum is a marvel of engineering. Besides making use of all the best Roman techniques, we have employed magic-smiths to make these panes of glass clear and perfect as well as impossible to see through from the other side. This allows increased comfort and privacy for our most noble visitors." He looked at Adras with a smile.
"Oh," was all Gwen said and she thought she saw some disappointment in Aderen's expression. For the briefest moment she thought of Merlin's early days in Camelot, when they made fun of the nose-in-the-air nobles.
Ambry took the seat beside her and Esobal came along behind his big sister and pulled out her chair even as Adras did the same for Gwen.
"Thank you, Adras," Guinevere said as she was seated ,and Ambry did the same with Esobal. Esobal and Adras took their places and Aderen came forward then to take their dinner orders.
"Dinner will be served during intermission. The first course will is fruit, and it is a delightful and rare delicacy being served to our guest tonight. After that will be the soup course. Now for your main course, you have your choice of roasted young duck with a glaze of honey and spices from the far orient, venison medallions with a cranberry port, boar -and it was short hunt my friends-, the fragrance of it cooking was heavenly."
Gwen felt her ears prick at the offer of boar. Boar was a dangerous catch and even the proudest men were careful when hunting it. Appearance on even the king's table was rare, and scraps never made it to those that served it. If the hunting went well, it always had the most warm and fragrant smell. Anything cooked in its juices and fat had the richest flavor.
"And finally the day's catch, mussels cooked in the sweetest creamiest butter with a touch of garlic. All the meats will be served with shallots in wine, fresh warm bread, and cheese."
She ordered the boar, of course as did Esobal and Ambry. Adras requested the roast duck.
"Excellent choices. Now for your desserts. You have your choice of layered honey and nut cake with sweet butter cream frosting, or pear tartlets topped with a sweet and airy whipped cream-and I do recommend the tarts. I had the opportunity to taste them this evening ,and their crusts were perfectly light and buttery, and the pears this season are divine."
Everyone requested the pear tartlets and Aderen smiled. "You won't be disappointed." The usher left.
They settled themselves as the sun disappeared below the horizon plunging the arena into darkness. A great horn sounded and silence was called for. Lights came up around the stage, pale, glowing and golden, revealing Lysistrata's house. It was not as Gwen had imagined it when she and Morgana read the play. She had imagined for Lysistrata a yeoman's house like the magistrate's perhaps, with timber and plaster windows screened with glass panes.
What she saw now, though, had the look of a simple plaster building that seemed almost a mould, with windows covered with painted curtains, and small images of the old gods painted all round the windows and lintel of the door itself. Grass was round the base of the building and a painted sunrise served to mimic the dawn sky.
Then Lysistrata herself came unto the stage glowing brilliantly in her own pool of light, troubled face lit as if she had swallowed a small sun. Guinevere leaned forward in her seat and for the next hour forgot any other life.
She'd loved this play from the moment she and Morgana had found and read it. Lysistrata had been a regular woman no special wealth, no special privilege, no special education and yet she had stopped a war, and used all the beauty and grace at her command to save a nation. Morgana had not been so impressed, preferring tales where women commanded power after the way of men.
Seeing it now with actresses bathed in pools of light, those thoughtful determined women taking their oath to withhold sex from their husbands until the war was ended, was a delight. She watched them seize the acropolis, saw the chorus of old women defeat the chorus of old men, smiled as Lysistrata defeated the magistrate, not with strength, but clever words. She listened as Lysistrata laid out the case to end the war, listing the ways that women suffered when men made foolish decisions without giving them consideration. Tears gathered in her eyes as she spoke of young women, unmarried and childless growing old during the course of the war and felt that her own spring was nearly over. Yet she smiled again even as Lysistrata made a fool of the magistrate and sent him packing, whilst the women held the acropolis and made war impossible.
The stage went dark for the intermission and two ushers appeared with a table and their dinner trays.
"Those actors were not men!" Esobal exclaimed the moment the lights came up.
Gwen felt a smile quirk up the corner of her mouth at the boy's tone. There were some actors whose imitation of women was near perfect.
"But they were honey." Adras' eyes flicked to Ambry and Gwen followed the glance.
Ambry's blue eyes were narrow with some intent. The forefinger of the hand under her chin pressed against her lips as if holding back some secret knowledge.
"But they didn't look like men at all," Esobal protested.
"No, son, they were using magic and make-up to don female guise."
"Oh."
"And then of course things are not always as they seem, remember."
The boy nodded.
"For some of those men, being on stage with that make-up and magic is the only time they feel like themselves."
"Right, but then what about the rest of them. That's a lot of men mom." Esobal looked up at his mother waiting for her explanation. "I mean why do they do that?"
"Because," Adras sighed and cast another brief glance at her daughter. "Because women aren't allowed."
"Oh." The boy thought about that for a moment. "But why?"
"Because women are stupid clearly, and unreliable and whores ready to run mad with lust at any moment," Ambry declared. "That's why they can't be in plays or do, anything."
Adras glared and Gwen felt her mouth falling open in shock.
"Mom doesn't court whores," Esobal declared! No one took any notice of him.
"Ambry!" There was firm reprimand in Adras' tone.
"Ms. Jen is not a whore!" Esobal said and this time Gwen looked down at him.
"What?" The girl's tone was flippant. "I'm only telling the truth, mom. There must be something wrong with women. Why else, in a play, about women not having a say, would you not have women actors? It must be because we're too busy spreading our legs and getting with child to memorize lines and show up for plays."
"Thank you," Guinevere mouthed to Esobal not at all sure why that was being mentioned.
"Ambry you know perfectly well there is nothing wrong with women-"
"There's not?" The girl puffed up in her seat grinning as if she had won game, set and match in a very long duel. "Well then it's a stupid, frivolous, wasteful use of magic to make men look like women when they could just. use. women. " The child glared, widening her blue eyes as if they could make a point for her. "It's a play about women, and it doesn't matter if there is an actor in the play who feels like a woman on the inside, he should be a woman on the outside all the time."
Gwen watched the two, growing more uncomfortable by the moment.
"Ambry, you know that I make no objection to women being actors or doing any other job and that also applies to men who think and feel as women."
"You know, mom," Ambry said and Gwen saw a moment of hesitation in her eyes, "you feel like a man on the inside, but you can't be in a play now can you? The only reason why those men, who feel like women, can be on that stage is because they're still men. The only reason anyone respects you is because you act like a man!"
"Little girl." Adras slapped her palm on the table. "I've had enough of your bad attitude these long months-"
"And I've had enough of all your gender inside, outside bull-"
Guinevere heard and saw the crack of the slap in the same instant.
"That's enough of your mouth," Adras said.
Ambry stared at her mother, eyes damp, hand pressed against her reddening cheek. Esobal fell silent in his mutterings. Guinevere searched for a topic, any topic to change the subject.
"So what kind of games are offered at the Aphrodite?"
Adras' smile was tight and forced.
"Cards, backgammon, Parcheesi, darts, owuri. We have sets and tables for all the common games and a few of the lesser known."
"Oh that's nice. It must attract a large crowd."
"Oh, yes," Adras said. "Business has been very good recently. We had a guest earlier this week from Turkey, an ottoman woman in fact."
Adras went into great detail about the woman and her clothes and the foods she requested. Gwen gave it her undivided attention. There did not need to be any more arguing this evening.
"Excuse me, mom," Esobal's voice was soft and thoughtful, interrupting them after several moments. "You said I could visit with Francesca's family before dinner."
Adras looked at her son and then her daughter.
"I did." Adras let herself smile as she said it. "Of course you may go. Ambry," her voice sharpened on her daughter's name. "Take your brother to visit with Francesca's family and then go and refresh yourself."
"Yes, mother." The girl's voice was soft, neutral.
The two children got up and started for the door, Ambry holding her little brother's hand.
"And Ambry."
"Yes mother."
"You didn't get smacked for having a differing opinion, you got smacked for being disrespectful to me, yourself, and our guest. Do you understand?"
"Yes, mother."
"Good. Now go."
"Is she-" Gwen glanced at the curtain. "Is all well between the two of you?"
Adras sighed and rested her forehead in her palm. Again Gwen got the impression of an ongoing battle between mother and daughter.
"Ambry..." Adras drummed her fingers on the table. "Ambry is fine. She is growing up and she's not happy about it and she is questioning everything. Not like when she was four and she wanted to know the why and what of everything that ever happened or ever might happen. But with her own opinions and thoughts which are almost always the opposite of mine. People are telling me I've raised her with too high an opinion of herself." Adras sighed.
Gwen was silent. She certainly wouldn't have talked to her father that way at thirteen. She couldn't imagine many children that would, and yet Ambry had a perfectly valid point. The play itself made Ambry's point.
"But do you disagree with her?"
"About women being actors? Of course I don't," Adras said. "It is completely unnecessary to use male actors when you could use female actors. However, the way we think of women, the fact that women must be pure to marry means that if they travel with men they have trouble." Adras sighed. "At the same time, I know that for some of those supposed men playing women, being on stage is the only time they feel like themselves, and it's not as simple as one or the other. Feeling that you are yourself is important." Adras said the last in so soft a tone that Guinevere nearly missed it.
Gwen felt her eyes widen just a bit. It had always been a bit disconcerting that women were not allowed to be actors. Plays were never as they'd imagined them, or acted them out amongst themselves. Acting, traveling like that had always seemed a bit fun.
"I had a teacher when I was Ambry's age. A woman like no other, Jen. She taught me these things, all these contrary things that I am teaching Ambry, but-" Adras shook her head, "I am doing something wrong."
Gwen frowned trying to think of something helpful to say.
"Mom! Ms. Jen!" They heard Esobal's voice and a moment later the curtain snapped open. "Dinner is served." The boy bowed as the waiters filed in.
The waiters first set down additional candles on the table and lit them. These were followed by mysterious dishes with silver caps ,one for each of them. The silver capped dishes were uncovered with a flourish, wafting the rich fragrance of rose and oranges before them. Gwen squealed with delight before she could stop herself. Orange Conserve, this had been served at the palace once.
"Orange Conserve is my favorite," she explained with a smile.
Ambry returned as they finished laying the first course on the table. The glaring impassioned adolescent was gone. She took her seat and food with calm and grace. And seemed almost contrite in her body language.
Gwen let the warm sweet fragrance of orange and rose waft up to her recalling for just a moment her last birthday in Camelot. Arthur had summoned her to his room and waited on her himself. She had never mentioned a desire to actually eat this dish, but she'd eyed it with more than curiosity on several occasions. When he'd set it before her in a silver dish, she'd stared a long moment before daring to taste even a spoonful.
The taste of the oranges had burst upon her tongue like a sunrise, and behind it came the gentle near delicate warmth of roses, a sweet fragrance on a soft and cooling breeze. She'd sighed with pleasure at the taste and Arthur had looked quite pleased with himself. Gwen turned her mind from Arthur. This was her favorite dish and she had new friends. She ate a spoonful of the conserve and smiled.
"Still my favorite."
As they ate, Adras discussed the play as they'd seen it so far, talking to Esobal about the virtues of consistency, selflessness, brotherhood and sisterhood. As the waiters served the second course, Ambry began to chime in. Not with the rebellious arguments of earlier, but with clever observations about the play and praise for the story they'd seen so far. The tension melted away from the table.
All of the food was rich and flavorful .The boar in particular had been crisped in some strange way that Adras described as a fried something they did in Ethiopia apparently. The desserts were a perfect end to the meal. The tarts both sweet and, well, tart, and the cream topping them both rich and delicate all at once. When they'd finished, the food and table was cleared away. The great horn sounded fifteen minutes until curtain and everyone began to settle themselves for the second half.
The play resumed with the chorus arguing back and forth. The women started to slip away for sex, making the flimsiest of excuses. Lysistrata, however, managed to successfully rally her troops. She watched happily as the men gave in and peace was struck between the Athenian, Spartans and Peloponnesians. They smiled as dinner was served and husbands and wives reunited. Thoughtful speeches were made to conclude the tale and the chorus sang familiar songs of the felicity found under the auspices of Aphrodite.
Gwen found herself on her feet clapping and cheering wildly the moment the stage went dark, right along with the rest of the audience. She didn't catch Ambry and Adras grinning at her response even as they joined her.
"So you enjoyed yourself?"
"I did. Thank you so much." Gwen flashed Adras a smile.
"You're familiar with the play?"
"Oh, yes, we read it a lot when we were girls."
The cart rattled down the street. Guinevere and Adras sat side-by-side. Ambry and Esobal were opposite them and had somehow fallen asleep despite the noise of the cart.
"We?"
"Just myself and friends."
"Oh." Adras studied her a moment.
"What?"
"Nothing. You just looked sad at one point during the play."
"Oh," Gwen thought back to Lysistrata's speech. "That part never had any meaning for me when we read that as girls, but now here I am, and my spring is nearly over."
"Marriage is not all there is to a woman's life, Jenafere."
"Says the widow with two children," Guinevere looked pointedly at Adras. "I gave him nearly all of my youth," she murmured.
"Him?" Adras remarked. "Well you certainly don't look like an old maid, you look like there is plenty of youth left in you." Adras said. "You, look like a baby."
Guinevere resisted a smile.
"It is true. Besides love and marriage, if those be your desire, can come in summer and fall as well. I prefer the richness of summer myself, when life is at its height."
"Do you believe that, or are you being polite?" Gwen replied holding the other woman's dark eyes.
"Yes. Youth is lovely, but the young are foolish. With age comes wisdom and surety." Adras smiled on those words.
"Oh," Guinevere felt her face grow warm and glanced out the window. "We're nearly to the townhouse."
They rode the rest of the way in silence, the cart bouncing and rattling as they went. When they came to that familiar street, Guinevere spoke again.
"Adras." She looked at her friend. "Thank you for the play and everything else."
Adras smiled. "You're welcome, Jenafere."
The cart rolled to a stop.
"Are we home?" Ambry asked waking up.
"Not yet. We're dropping off Ms. Jen."
"Oh, right." Ambry smiled sleepily at her. "Good night, Ms. Jen." The girl surprised her then by leaning over and giving her a hug and whispering to her, "I'm sorry."
"Thank you, Ambry," Guinevere said. "And I don't agree with the way you spoke to your mother, but I think I understand your unhappiness, Ambry. Good night."
Gwen woke with a light heart and a calm spirit. She had a bath in the scullery and dressed in her green dress and sleeveless embroidered surcoat. She and Kerenza had breakfast together and she kept the interview out of her mind. It would go well or it wouldn't and there was nothing else to think upon. As they were finishing, a note arrived from Adras.
To my very dear friend,
I have sent my driver Caradoc over with the cart so that you may arrive refreshed and in comfort. Many blessings on you this morning.
Adras
The cart would get her to the interview in half the time she'd planned and she wouldn't arrive sweating and exerted from a walk. As much the made her a bit nervous Gwen was more than grateful for the loan. It would give her time to visit with Father Flaejer or Abebech and afterwards she could take the cart to the scribner's before going home.
Preferring to have company rather than riding alone in the cart. Guinevere asked her house mates if any of them wanted to be dropped anywhere along the way to the hospice. Kerenza gave her a delighted smile and asked to be taken to the smithy. As they rode Kerenza told her a bit more her work with Mr. Leufried and how the bible talked about transmutation. It all seemed rather fanciful, but served as a good distraction and helped Gwen to keep her nerves calm all the way to the hospice.
Father Flaejer descended upon her almost the moment she arrived.
"You are looking well, my dear."
"Thank you."
"I shall wait with you if you don't mind."
"I don't, everyone is being so helpful."
"Well we think you would be the best person for the position."
She thanked him again and inquired after Abebech. Gwen was pleased to learn that the girl was settling in well and the new family taking over the search for her parents. He told her a bit about some of the other goings on at the hostel: a donation from the merchants, an influx of refugees from famine in Scottland, and the ongoing threat of meazlis outbreak. They kept one and other entertained until the bell tolled half past the hour. Father Flaejer escorted her to the physician's office.
When she had first met Physician Pradeep she had thought immediately of Elyan. Like her brother, his skin was the deep, rich color of ebony and they were about the same height and build. Unlike her brother, though, he wore his hair in lose curls that just touched his shoulders, and had a short neat beard. Physician Pradeep wore a simple sleeveless linen robe of muted almost burnt orange over an equally muted blue tunic.
His attention was on the glass bulb in front of him, as the clear liquid inside darkened to a deep rich purple.
She cleared her throat and he looked up.
"Thank you for coming, Ms. Jen."
"You are welcome. Thank you for the interview." Guinevere said with a smile.
The corner of Physician Pradeep's mouth quirked upwards in the barest hint of a response.
"Please have a seat."
He indicated a chair that faced his worktable.
"So you would like to be a physician assistant?"
"Yes."
"It doesn't pay so well."
"I know that, but it is the only way I can learn."
He nodded. "You come highly recommended by both Father Flaejer and Ms. Ylsa. She thinks I should hire you right away. She thinks you will make a brilliant physician. What do you think?" He leaned forward and Gwen found herself taken aback. She had expected questions about her knowledge and skills.
"I-I don't know all that there is to know, but I want to be a physician. I was a maid for many years; women are excluded from university and no one teaches common girls anything. I learned to read and write by looking over my lady's shoulder during her lessons. I nursed a man that I hated so that I might take time to study. I want to learn. I want to be a physician."
He was silent and Gwen sat across from lips rolled into a thin line to stem the flow of words attempting to bubble forth in an uncontrolled stream of nerves. She had broken that habit, but it still happened from time-to-time. The longer he sat looking at her, the more her nerves grew, until her mind screamed, I will be a brilliant physician if only I am given the chance.
He sighed and looked downward.
"I will be good at this," the words burst forth.
He looked up now.
"I think I will be a good assistant and a good physician. I know I will be a good physician. That's why I have studied, that why I've come here every day." She took a deep breath. "I pay attention to things, little things that will tell you everything you need to know about why someone is sick, and therefore how to remedy them. I know over a hundred plants and cures already and I am used to hard work. I've worked since I was a girl. You could hire someone who knows more, someone from a rich family who has had nothing to do but study for hours, but they won't be as good as me."
His eyes widened and she ignored them.
"They won't work as hard as I will; they won't take it as seriously because they can do anything. When their feet and back are aching from standing all day they will whine and complain over it and want to go home early before the day's patients have been seen. They will turn up their nose as they hear tales of poor foods and ignorant practices meant to bring luck, but do more harm than good. And the patients won't talk to them and they won't get well, because they won't get the right treatments because you won't have the proper information. I won't do any of those things, though. Ylsa is right. If you give me this job, I will be brilliant."
He stared at her and nodded slowly before clearing his throat. Gwen licked her lips. Had she said too much? What if he was from one of those noble or wealthy families and she had named all his flaws and failings?
"Tell me something about your studies."
Gwen let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and told him of her studies.
"Well, you are smart, determined and ambitious, but this will be nothing like working in a household. Many of the people that come here are ignorant and superstitious, their health broken down by labor and poverty."
"I know that. They are my own class," Guinevere fired back.
He nodded. "Yes they are." it seemed as if he said the words for his own ears. "I have others that I am meeting, but I shall make my choice by the end of the week."
She nodded.
"Shall I walk you out?"
"I remember the way thank you," Gwen said.
"Well thank you for coming, Ms. Jen." Physician Pradeep rose and extended his hand. Gwen stood and shook his hand.
"You are welcome."
Gwen released his hand and turned and walked out of his office trying not to look at anything. She shut his door with a click and leaned against the dark paneled wall, resting one hand on her sick stomach.
All her life she'd been told to be meek and proper. Since her father's death, and after the things that had happened in Camelot, she'd grown far less meek, and too bold by far. This interview showed that. Her association with Arthur, and other court nobles had made her unemployable.
Gwen took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves. She had of a certainty said too much. She had gotten angry with him during the interview, and snapped at him. And most damning, Physician Pradeep was, most likely, from a noble background himself. He could easily take her words as an insult to himself. It didn't matter how much she had studied or how good she might be, no one wanted a rude, surly employee. She was never going to be a physician. Father Flaejer and Ylsa would not give her further recommendations after the physician told them how she had behaved in the interview. Guinevere recalled the disdain with which she had spoken of the wealthy nobles.
Given her attitude now, Gwen didn't even think she could be something as simple as a maid. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and started down the hall. This was the job she had dreamt of and she had ruined it. Worse still, if Physician Pradeep were a gossip, her words in this interview might come back to haunt her. What if he shared her thoughts on nobles and the wealthy with others? Who would employ her even as a seamstress? The gold Arthur had given her would not last forever. Then what work would she do?
A/N- It has been a while, sorry about that. I know I have long breaks between updates sometimes, but I had no idea that it would take me nearly three months to get back onto a productive writing schedule after relocating. Happily though I am back on a consistent writing schedule so I should be updating more regularly.
I'm really excited about some of the upcoming chapters, especially the Camelot chapters. The story is finally leading up to that confrontation between Arthur and Morgana, and Merlin is getting a bit of comeuppance.
couple things I want to note. I try to give a balance between what medieval sensebilities might have been and what modern readers expect. It's not acceptable for modern parents to smack their children. However a medieval parent or guardain might have beaten Ambry severly for her behavior, which wasn't simply rude by medieval standards, but unacceptable for a child to fight with a guardian or authority figure in front of guest or during a public outing. Of course this story isn't entirely medieval Adras is raising Ambry with some very modern ideas, but I did want to address that a smack simply wasn't abuse to the medieval mind.
another quick note on Gwen's interview. A lot of interviewers read from your resume, ask you questions about who you are, your work experience, etc...Every now and again though you run into one that says "tell me about yourself." the first time I got this I was stumped and did not get the job. If you are asked that question in an interview simply do what Gwen did without the sass. tell the interviewer about how your experience relates to the position they are offering.
Thank you all so much for reading and hanging in there with me. Beta by Kay and my bestie. God willing and the creek don't rise, chapter 26 comes next Friday.