The New Life

a novel by Mark Robert Whitten

Chapter 21

Jess spotted her coming down the hall. He was glad to see her wearing her blue dress, the one he favored. As she approached, the sound of the satin skirts swishing as she moved mixed with the hard clack of her boots on the polished wood of the hall floor. Jess never tired of the sounds her walking made and as she came near, he smiled. He waved to her. As she noticed him, she quickened her pace. The serious look she wore seemed devoid of the mirth she usually displayed. Jess felt his own face fall at realizing it would not be a day of fun and games. The books she carried tucked under her arm reinforced that belief. Understanding her intention, he opened the door to the study. Their private lessons were meant to catch Jess up with the other students, so while the rest of the class had the day off, he was confined to the small room to learn even more.

As they entered, Jess closed the door and sat down. "So what's today's lesson?"

She dropped her books down in front of him, the resounding smack of leather-bound pages on polished oak making him jump. He glanced up to see Leslie's face was set with a humorless look. "Politics."

Jess groaned. He didn't much care for that subject. He already knew the kingdom they lived in was called Arkahna and that it was ruled by a king. Under him, there were many Dukes controlling their shares of the kingdom. He didn't know what they did exactly, but he had lost interest in the subject after a while. He leaned back and stretched, wanting to tell Leslie that his muscles were still sore after the training session with Thomas.

Leslie fixed him with a look that told him he wasn't getting out of this.

An hour passed with Leslie reading and Jess asking questions. As much as he learned, he still didn't truly grasp the concept of government. "How do you understand all this Leslie?" He frowned at her from across the table. "And why would you want to try?"

Leslie stood and stretched. "My father is a politician, Jess. I have to know this stuff." She thought a moment. "Maybe if it were something meaningful to you…" She retrieved some scrolls, laying them out on the table.

"It's like this," she said, unrolling a map. She pointed to large places with borders touching. "Let's say your sisters, Ellie and Brenda, are both nobles." Leslie ignored the scoff he made and continued. "Each of them rules a duchy, but they don't get along too well."

Jess followed along with rising curiosity. While he had a hard time picturing his sisters as nobles, he had no problem imagining them as bickering siblings.

Leslie checked to make sure he was paying attention before continuing.

"Brenda's people make the best wagon wheels and Ellie's people are excellent farmers, but because they argue, they've stopped trading.

"While they bicker, nobody gets what they need. Fields of grain go to rot because they can't be moved and wagon wheels pile up because they're not traded."

She tapped the portion of the map that Jess recognized as the Burke duchy. "To solve this problem, my father steps in and offers to buy the grain from Ellie and the wagon wheels from Brenda. He then sells the grain he purchased from Ellie, to Brenda and the wagon wheels he bought from Brenda to Ellie." She smiled at the simplicity of her explanation. "Everyone gets what they need and everyone is happy."

Jess didn't understand all of what she had explained and the parts he did understand had a few problems. Her father had to have some other reason for doing this, a reason Jess couldn't see. "Why would your father help them? Why wouldn't he just stay out of it?"

Leslie looked over at him and smiled in that special way she had. He figured he had asked the right question.

"He intervenes because he buys the wagon wheels from Brenda at a discount—less money then he could have to pay normally. He buys from them cheaper because they won't sell to each other and they'll take less money for their goods if it means they don't have to deal with each other." She took a sip of cider and cleared her throat. "Then my father sells the wheels for profit—that's more money—when he sells them to Ellie." She pulled a few coins out of her purse and laid them on the table. "He buys each wagon wheel for about three silver marks and then sells them to Ellie for five silver marks. He gets his three marks back, plus two—that's the 'profit.' He does the same thing with the grain, buying cheap and selling for more profit."

Jess was impressed with her understanding of such complex rituals, but something still bothered him. "Then your father is cheating them." Noticing her darkening expression, he quickly explained. "Why don't they just trade with each other and leave your father out entirely?"

He was sure he had found something Leslie couldn't answer. He was wrong.

"They work with him because of their pride and stubbornness. They both think they're right and neither will apologize or try to make amends."

"So he takes advantage of them," Jess reasoned, "by preying on their pride to rob them in trade."

He expected Leslie's face to heat when he said such things about her father, but she remained surprisingly calm as she answered, "If my father didn't intervene, then their people would begin to starve, as the food in Ellie's land rots and Brenda's wagon wheels go unsold. Because there isn't enough grain coming into Brenda's land, the people who work her mills have nothing to grind into flour, and thus, no flour to sell to their bakers. Because of this, the millers go out of business and lose their homes to pay off debts, with the bakers following soon after.

"Since grain would be hard to come by in Brenda's land, the little bread made from the grain they do have would become expensive. The stores which still sell bread must soon raise their prices, now that the mills and bakers have disappeared. They don't have much bread left and they have to make as much money as they can because there won't be any more. Only the wealthy can afford the high cost of what bread there is and, after a time, there's almost no bread available anywhere—at any price."

Jess stood in quiet attention as he listened to Leslie's description of the decline of trade agreements and the doom of the people. "After a while, the people become desperate and begin looting the stores. People are killed in the streets for what little can be stolen."

Jess felt a wave of cold fright flood his veins as he imagined the plight of the people. He could almost hear the cries of the desperate and he was certain he could feel the gnawing pang of hunger growing inside his own belly. He swallowed hard as he heard about how thin and gangly people became. Desperately, he offered solutions, as if it were he, not they, facing starvation. "Couldn't they eat other things?" He licked his lips nervously. "Surely, they must have other things to eat—like fruits and meats."

He felt his hopes sink like a rock in a well as Leslie solemnly shook her head, denying his humble plea. "As businesses—like the bakers and millers—close down, people lose not only their bread, but their work as well. People no longer have the money to buy fruits and meats, because their main export—wagon wheels—aren't being sold. Those other business that provide fruit and meat are threatened because they can't have bread and others, like blacksmiths and cobblers can't work metal or make shoes because no one can afford to buy anything from them. Some families begin to die off as starvation takes hold. Others leave to find work elsewhere. Many families have been starving at this point and it's only getting worse as the weak fall ill from disease.

"By the time the famine reaches the wealthy merchants who support Duchess Brenda, most of the population of peasants have either starved to death or fled with their lives and with so many people leaving or dying there are few left to do any work at all.

"The merchants, finally beginning to feel the effects of such losses might at last urge Brenda to reconcile with her sister, but it would have been at a great cost and the land would need decades to recover—if they would recover at all." She gave him a meaningful look. "And I haven't even told you about what happened to Ellie's people during all this tragedy."

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Leaning against the table for support, he whispered a quiet plea, "Leslie, please don't tell me—I can't hear anymore. You were right. Your father does a good thing by keeping all those people from starving. I'm sorry I thought ill of him."

She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Now you know what my father does and why." She waited till he met her gaze. "Do you still begrudge him a little profit, Jess?"

He swallowed at the gentle look in her eyes. "No, Leslie."

She nodded. "Good. I hope you learned something from all this." She closed the book.

He had meant it when he said he didn't want to hear anymore but curiosity overcame him. "Leslie, could you tell me a little about what would happen to Ellie's people?"

She looked as if she might argue, but then calmed. "They couldn't move their goods without Brenda's wagon wheels." She wiped a hand across her eyes in weariness. "A slightly different version of what befell Brenda's people will happen to them, but it's all basically the same: Without people able to move and sell their grain, they lose money and eventually die off as well."

Jess stood in stunned silence. He had no idea that what the nobles did was so important. He knew about the private armies they kept paid with the taxes they collected, and that they had many servants to feed but he never realized that some of the money actually went to helping buy things from other lands and keeping everyone working together.

He sighed. He thought a noble's life was all ease and comfort. He now knew it was anything but easy. He still wondered though about some key points.

"Leslie?" he asked. "Why do they buy from your father? Can't they buy from others?"

She smiled again but it looked forced. She seemed tired from explaining everything and Jess thought he had better limit himself to fewer questions, for her sake. He couldn't help himself, though; he wanted know everything about this world—her world.

"I have only really given you a simplified example to teach you Jess, but yes, there are other nobles who buy, sell and trade with other lands. It happens all the time, all over the kingdom." She cast her hand over the map. "Alliances form between some of them, while trade agreements fall apart between others and people are generally unaware about how much it really affects them. Of course, it's all exaggerated for your benefit; I'm not sure it would turn out that way. There are many other lands to trade with and many other things must be taken into account, such as good harvests or bad, rivers flooding, frost damage, locust swarms…the whole thing is a complex system of constantly shifting factors that affect the price of bread and other goods." She yawned—more from fatigue, Jess thought, than the boredom of explaining things she already knew so well. "People like your family, Jess. They're the kind of people who are most affected but have almost no idea as to what's really going on in the world."

Jess didn't like the thought of his family being called ignorant, but he guessed it was true. He didn't understand a lot of what she was explaining and he knew his family had never even heard such things. He resolved to learn as much as he could, so he could be more comfortable in Leslie's company. "Why would my family be the ones most affected?"

"Remember the famine I mentioned? How prices were rising? Who do you think would be hurt by higher prices? The wealthy—like my family—or your peasants, like your family?"

With a chill, he realized she was right.

"Well, I'm glad your father does what he does," he confessed, "whatever it is." He sipped some cider and asked her something new. "Do all nobles deal in grain?"

Leslie picked up her cider. She drank it down and set down the cup. Rubbing her eyes, she started again. "There are some people who don't deal in things like grain. That was a simple example. Some deal in grain, others in wool and many don't limit themselves. They trade in whatever is available." She shrugged. "Some even trade in land."

Jess had almost lost interest, thinking he understood everything about the dealings of the upper class. Now his attention was caught again, like a fish on a hook. He asked her what she had meant by nobles trading land.

"There are some who trade use of their grasslands to shepherds for a share of the wool their sheep produce. Milk is also traded—along with cloth, as well as meat on the hoof— for grazing rights and the use of rivers."

Jess considered the sausage he had eaten for breakfast and wondered what story was behind the pigs that had produced it. He smiled inwardly. If only pigs could talk…

"Some people aren't as good at trading as my father," Leslie continued, "and there are some who are… meaner about it."

Jess wanted to know what she meant but before he could ask her, she continued.

"The nobles of the House of Owens are such people. They charge more then they should and always look for people in trouble. They don't try to help them—they take advantage." Leslie's posture had changed. She was leaning forward now, hunched over, with a look of simmering anger, like a cat about to eat a mouse.

Jess wondered if he was the mouse.

"H-How do they hurt people?"

"They buy from people they know are in trouble, like Ellie's people, and sell their grain for far more than my father would. They gouge their customers, not caring that they won't survive because there are always more needy people to cheat. The House of Owens is like a great wolf, hunting for bargains and fostering discontent. They don't promote cooperation—they care only for making money, often at other people's expense."

Jess swallowed. He thought to try to ask a question but he couldn't seem to find his voice. Leslie, seeing his interest piqued, continued.

"The House of Owens thrives on the destitution and losses of other lands. They don't like us because my father helps people work out their problems by reminding them of what's really important: their people. My family gives the Owens competition and, to their minds, steals away potential clients. They hate us for that more than anything else."

"Would they invade us, do you think?" He cleared his throat. "Go to war, I mean?"

Leslie laughed a little. Jess sighed as she leaned back and shrugged. "I'm sorry Jess. I didn't mean to scare you." She waved away the notion. "No, they couldn't invade. It wouldn't be allowed."

Jess wasn't convinced. "It doesn't sound like the Owens play by the rules." He scratched his head. "How can they not invade us? I mean, what's to stop them?"

"Well, our army is strong. They would stand against the invasion. Plus there's the King they would have to worry about and—"

Jess' ears perked up. "You know the King?"

"Not really." She shrugged. "I've met him a few times at the midsummer festival. But I don't really know him." She cleared her throat and brought the conversation back on track. "What I do know is that the King prevents war the same way the nobles prevent starvation: by managing the nobles the same way they manage their lands." She gestured expansively. "The King's army, the royal army, is bigger and stronger than any other. He wouldn't allow any war to take place within his Kingdom."

Jess sat back and considered. "Are you sure? What if they make war on him too?"

That brought out a simple laugh. Leslie's laughs were always a treat for the ears, but now Jess found his ears were burning. He realized she thought him hopelessly thick. He hunched his shoulders, wishing he hadn't asked what must have been a stupid question.

As her laughter subsided, she apologized. "The Arkahna royal army is made up of the best soldiers in all of the duchies. Just as each land specializes in something, like the production of wool or steel, each land also has weapons specialists like lancers, archers, spearmen or swordsman. The best lancers are from Ordaina and the best spearmen are from Calife' and so on. All the army is made up of the best specialists of each land so the royal army can out-match anyone they come up against. The King couldn't be ousted easily. It would take an army of greater size and strength than I can imagine, and even then, it wouldn't really be possible without wholesale treachery on the part of the royal army as well.

"And of course there are the Templars to help keep order."

"Templars? You mean like Tom?"

Leslie nodded. "He's just one of about a thousand Templar knights dedicated to keeping order in the kingdom."

"What are they like, I mean, what do you know about them?"

Leslie scratched her head as she considered his question. "They exist as a stabilizing influence, enforcing the King's will, though they don't strictly work for him. They have their own money and their own ways of doing things and their main goal, besides keeping the peace, is to hunt down those with evil intentions, those who would use magic to rest control from the Dukes and rule the land."

"But aren't the Templars priests?" Leslie nodded. Jess blushed, averting his eyes. "Then how is it that Tom allowed to… to kiss Miss Edmunds? I thought priests weren't allowed to have love."

"Priests of the faith don't have love, but Templars have their own order. They condone relationships and even perform marriage ceremonies. They often get their new recruits as sons of their members."

"Well, good for them, I guess." Jess wanted to ask about maybe becoming a knight and traveling the world, but from what he could gather, the Templars only let important people join their ranks. Jess knew that he was still just a servant.

Everything else Leslie had explained about the world was making him dizzy. It all spun around in his mind, whirling like snow in a blizzard. Jess was just staring to understand when Leslie commented that it was all just a simplified version to make it accessible to him today. "Real life is a lot more complex and interesting," she told him. Her eyes turned down a moment. He could barely hear her whisper, "And a lot more painful."

He frowned. "Painful?" She looked away. Jess touched her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, turning back to him with a smile. "That's enough for today." She closed the books and began clearing the table of maps. She shook a finger at him. "There are many other things to learn and you still have a lot of catching up to do."

Jess nodded. His head ached with all he had learned and all he still wanted to know but today's private lesson with Leslie was finished. He was beyond relieved by that; he wanted to do something simple after all that thinking and he wondered if he could see Miss Edmunds again, to ask her help in clearing his mind. He still wanted to learn more of course, especially about the royal family. People who were even more important than Leslie's family fascinated him. He wondered what they were like, if they were like Leslie or more like Brenda and Ellie. Jess thought to ask Leslie when a servant girl interrupted. Leslie came to her call and leaned close, listening to something the girl wanted to say privately. After a moment, Leslie straightened and dismissed the servant.

As the door closed, Leslie turned to him and gave him a sad smile.

"Father is home."

Jess followed her along at a steady pace, the sound of the footfalls echoing through the halls as they made their way to the anteroom. He wondered why she wasn't running to see him; he missed the Duke and thought she would be even more anxious to see him than he was.

There was no time to stop and ask. As they reached the anteroom, Jess saw that the Duke had already arrived. Servants surrounded him, taking orders and rushing to carry them out as he made his way through the hall. His red coat seemed worn and a little dusty but his clothes still looked finer than any Jess had ever seen. He couldn't imagine anyone more important than the Duke.

As he spotted Leslie, Duke William gave a final list of commands and came forward. Leslie rushed forward and immediately wrapped him in a hug. William warmly embraced his daughter while nodding to Jess.

Jess bowed. "Welcome home, my lord."

"Jess. It's good to see you again. Have you been taking good care of my daughter while I've been away?"

Jess smiled. He had always thought of Leslie as his sister—his amazing sister who knew so much about the most extraordinary things. Jess often forgot that Leslie was also somebody's daughter. He wondered how much the Duke, being her father, loved Leslie and how it would feel to have someone like her for a child. Jess nodded in answer to the Duke as Leslie began babbling about all the things they had done since he had arrived. Jess found himself blushing when Leslie mentioned how proud she was of him, of how smart he was and how fast he was learning everything. The Duke nodded in approval as Leslie went on about how much fun they had been having together.

Jess studied his feet as his face heated. He didn't think Leslie would ever stop talking.

The sound of her voice disappeared and as Jess looked up to see what had stopped her, he caught sight of something unusual. A woman had entered; a woman in a dark dress.

Jess breath caught at the sight of her. She strutted toward them with calm confidence, as if she owned the whole castle; the servants backed away as she came near, falling silent and bowing their heads before the woman as she strode resolutely toward her destination.

While most people in the room wouldn't meet her stern gaze, Jess found he couldn't take his eyes off her weathered face. The woman was reed-thin, like Miss Edmunds, but her calm countenance held none of the customary joy that made Julia so delightful. Her face was much older than Julia's, creased like his father's and her hair, although black as Julia's own raven coif, carried none of the shining vibrancy. It seemed a dull black cloud pulled back behind her head.

She was about the most sinister-looking woman Jess had ever seen.

He turned to ask Leslie who she was and found the look on his best friend's face even more frightening than the woman.

Jess didn't think he had ever seen a look of horror more terrifying than the one Leslie was trying to hide. The only thing that made Jess more afraid was the fact that the look was on Leslie's fair face where trepidation had no place.

The footsteps of the woman came closer. She stopped before them and peered down with intense brown eyes as Duke William stepped aside. Jess eyed the woman carefully, expecting her to glare at him for his insolence, but her scrutinizing gaze never left Leslie. Jess instinctively reached out to try to pull Leslie behind him, to protect her from this glowering woman. His hand silently glided toward Leslie's arm. It faltered just before he could reach her as, just then, Leslie did the most unexpected thing.

She curtsied.

Jess stood stunned, his mouth hanging agape as Leslie, gripping the sides of her blue skirts, lowered herself humbly to the floor and dipped her blonde head in deference to the woman. Jess didn't think Leslie ever bowed to anyone, especially in her own home. The arrogance of the woman, to think she could make Leslie do it, made Jess' blood boil.

As he watched her rise, Jess flicked his gaze between Leslie and the woman.

Leslie spoke, then, shocking Jess with her meek words. "A-A good evening to you, Mistress. Myers," she said. She swallowed and looked down again, too afraid to watch for a response.

The woman's stern glower didn't falter as she dipped her head in the slightest of nods—a silent acknowledgement of Leslie's deference. The gesture was so slight, so subtle that Jess knew that if he had blinked he would have missed the unspoken greeting. The Myers woman spoke then, her voice as stern as her visage. "It is good to see you again, Leslie."

"Will you be staying long," Leslie asked, and she swallowed again. "We-we would be honored if you would join us for dinner this evening."

"Mistress Myers will of course be joining us tonight, Leslie," her father answered. He handed a paper to a bowing servant before turning his attention to the conversation. Duke William seemed oblivious to Leslie's discomfort. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he explained that Mistress Myers would be spending a great deal more time with them. The words seemed to upset Leslie more than she wanted anyone to know. Jess knew. He had known her too long and too well to be fooled by the painted smile she wore as she gazed up at the two adults. Jess' own gaze flicked to the Duke to see if he could tell how much the Myers woman's presence was upsetting his daughter. The Duke's sincere smile informed Jess that he couldn't tell. Jess could see Leslie shaking in the presence of the woman. He wanted nothing so much as to pull his friend out of there, to take her away to the secret woods where they shared their lives and keep her safe from the evil-looking woman.

As if reading his thoughts, Mistress Myers cockroach-brown eyes finally flicked to him. The intensity he found their made him forget to breathe.

"And who would you be, little boy?"

Jess felt his face heat. He bristled at the woman's dismissive tone, at being called a 'little boy'. Leslie's voice brought him out of his hateful thoughts. "This is Jess, my new valet." He put on his best smile for Leslie's sake as she introduced him. "Jess, this is Mistress Myers."

"Charmed," he said in his best voice before he dipped a low bow.

She dipped her head in greeting, but her stern eyes remained fixed on Leslie the whole time.

Supper was served at the usual time. Everyone was quieter than usual. Mistress Myers had a collection of her own servants surrounding her at dinner. She spoke quietly with the Duke about many things that seemed to be of great concern to her. No one would say it, but it seemed to Jess that everyone was on edge with the Myers woman around.

As Jess tried to listen in on whatever it was the important people were saying, he noticed that Leslie wasn't eating. That she had barely touched her food was strange; she usually ate like a horse. Jess figured it must have something to do with Myers.

He glanced over at Myers and saw Julia and Tom on the opposite end of the table. It seemed strange seeing Julia at the same time as Myers.

The two seemed so much alike, yet so different.

In many ways, with her appearance so similar to Miss Edmunds, yet so dark and old, it seemed that this sinister lady was the opposite of everything fair Julia represented. He wondered if Julia would look like Myers when she got old. Jess felt shame at the thought of only liking Julia because she was beautiful. He had to wonder if she was even really in love with her.

As the evening wore on and things slowed down, Jess finally plucked up the courage to ask a question that nobody seemed to care about. "Mistress Myers," he asked in as clear a tone as he could manage, "Why are you here?"

Everyone stopped to look at him. The harp music stopped and as the echoes of the soft-strung melody faded into nothingness, Leslie fixed Jess with a look that told him he shouldn't have asked. Jess didn't look away from her exasperated expression. In truth, he wanted to ask Myers when she would be returning to her swamp, but he thought not to push it, lest Leslie be embarrassed.

Myers set down her wine goblet and regarded him coldly. "I am here to see to Leslie, to ensure that she is ready for the ceremony." It was clear by her tone that she didn't appreciate being questioned by a servant. Her expression said it even more clearly.

Leslie had just taken a drink of cider when Myers answered. Her fair cheeks were plumped like a squirrel's and Jess knew from the way her almond-shaped eyes widened that he shouldn't ask anything else, but that last statement caught hold of his curiosity and wouldn't let go. "What ceremony would that be, Mistress Myers?"

Leslie's bluish-green eyes flicked about, as if looking for an escape as she swallowed. Her cheeks had turned a rosy color. She looked as if she were about to bolt from the room like a rabbit running from a wolf.

She took a sharp breath as Myers explained her purpose.

"I'm here to prepare Leslie for the ceremony in which she will be married."