Read John Rackham Online

Authors: Beanstalk

John Rackham (22 page)

BOOK: John Rackham
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"Let there be no talk of that,"
Haldar interrupted. "I have a good nose. I smell stewing herbs and meat of
some kind, and roots. And that
beast,
or my eyes lie
to me, yields milk. And butter. And I see ears of grain. We will make up hot
platters from the food-machine in the ship, so as not to go empty-handed, but I
tell you my mouth waters for a taste of simple food. It has been much too long
since I relished it. What do you say, my lady?"

"All
that you said, Haldar,
except
the title. We can forget
all that, here. I am now what I have always been at heart, just a country girl.
Come; make haste with the food-machine."

The
scent of stew was very plain on the morning air as they drew near to the
cottage again. Even Jack could look forward to it as they reached the door and
he called to his mother to come out. She had done her hair in two tails, and
ribbon that he had seen rarely and long ago. She had an apron over her best linen
smock, was wiping her hands in it now as she came to stare anxiously. As he
started to speak, Jack remembered, too late, the language difference. There was
no help for it now.

"Mother,"
he said, "this is Haldar Villar, of Berden, who says he has been impatient
to taste your stew for these past ten minutes or more." The two of them
were strangely speechless for a breath,
then
Haldar
bowed graciously and offered his hand to take hers.

"Madam,
this is an unexpected pleasure. And honor. May I know what name I may use to
address you more fittingly?" Jack drew a breath to be ready to translate,
but saw his mother's face and realized there was no need. She went pinkly
uneasy as she murmured:

"Why,
sir, I am Widow Fairfax, and have been ever since my husband was struck
down."

"Widow
is a poor, sad word. I am sure you have another name. I would count it a great
favor to be allowed to use it."

Now
she was really pink, but somehow Jack knew she was pleased under her confusion.
"It it please you, Sir Haldar, my name is Edwina."

"Call
me not sir," he said quietly. "Fate has stricken titles from me long
ago, but that same fate seems now to have made amends. Once"—he released
her hand—"there was a fair woman in my life. Her name was Deena. She was
very like you. I never thought to see her like again. I am honored!"

Jack
began to realize, dimly, what was going on. He had never seen his mother quite
so moved before, and truly, Haldar was very like his father more than ever,
here, in this setting. He seemed to belong. Jack touched her arm.

"And
this, Mother, is Silvana, of Maramelle."

As the two came face to face, Silvana bowed
her head. "I am very glad to be here, Mother Fairfax. Jack has told me a
great deal about his home land, this cottage, and yourself. Now I know that he
told me less than half of the truth of it. It is a wonderfully peaceful
spot."

"It
is very gracious of you, my lady, to say such things about my poor home. It is
humble enough...."

"Nay,
I am no lady. You see but a refugee, without a home of my own. We have almost
nothing but what we stand in. We really are in need of your hospitality, Mother
Fairfax. By way of small return we bring food from the ship."

"There now!"
Edwina was instantly contrite. "I knew I had seen platters like
those before. And me keeping you dawdling on the step like this! Do you come in
and rest
You
are welcome to what little we have."

As
she led the way, Jack noticed Haldar's quick appraisal, observing the big ax,
the scythe by the wall, the timbered roof, trie solid but plain table and
chairs. He seemed to approve. But Silvana ran at once and excitedly to the open
pantry-shelf in the corner.

"See
here!" she cried.
"A hand-baked oven-loaf!
And cheese. And butter. And is this really honey, Mother Fair fax?
Real honey?"

"Is
there any other kind, my dear? The bees nest only a step away, in that
chestnut. If you will seat yourselves
...
Jack,
fetch the bowls! Stir yourself! I cannot do it all!"

"Yes,
Mother!" Jack grinned and brought the hand-carved bowls from their shelf.
Haldar took one, and nodded approval.

"It's well-made. It's all well-made.
Sturdy and simple."
He put the bowl down and watched
Edwina ladle it ML He took a spoonful, and sighed. "I never thought to see
anything like this again.
Nor to taste.
Edwina, this
is real stuff. Machine-made food tastes thin and feeble by comparison."

Jack
recalled a saying of his father's. "Fresh air and a good appetite make a
considerable difference, Haldar. I know I'm hungry as never before!"

Silvana's face glowed as she dipped a hunk of
oaten bread in the stew and munched on it. But then Edwina paused in her
bustling. "What of the merry
Utile
man, Sir
Jasar? Is he not with you?"

"He asked that I would make excuse for
him, Mother. He has
work
to do, in the ship."

"Yes," she said, and nodded.
"And I have heard that tale many a time before. You run and fetch him, to
be filled. No man can work properly on an empty belly! Go!"

Jack
exchanged a knowing grin with Haldar, and went. Jasar was huddled at his
control-seat, watching complicated patterns come and go on his screen.

"Your
mother's a sensible woman," he declared, as Jack delivered the message.
"There's enough work here to keep me busy for many hours. And it won't go
away for a while. I remember that stew, and the ale, too! Here, lend a hand
with the jewel bags."

As
they reentered the cottage they heard Edwina declare firmly, 'To bake good
bread and pies, to make cheese and butter, and use a needle, these are no great
wonders, but proper work for any wife. Yours must be
a
strange world if you think such common things
wonderful."

Silvana's voice was very soft as she replied.
"Yes, ours is a strange world. Or it was. Once, long ago, it was very like
this. But then, to build more houses to live in, men cut down trees and cleared
away forests. To make roads to travel on they covered good soil. Then they made
machines to do all the work and forgot how to live. Mother Fairfax, in the time
I am to be here I hope to learn from you some of your arts. But here's Jasar
now."

"What's
the news on the ship?" Haldar asked, as the little man made his bow and
then sat.

"Not
good. It is too soon to be absolutely sure. It will take me until this time
tomorrow to be able to give you a certain answer, but at this moment I would be
surprised if my ship ever takes off again. That grid of mine was never intended
to hold a ship so huge, and when I blew it, as I had to, the feedback blew a
lot of my circuits, and upset
a
lot more."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"No,
I thank you. It will call for patchwork and contrivance, and I have all the
necessary skills for that. What I am in need of is solid-state modules, and
neither of us has the trick of conjuring up those, not here. A pastoral economy
is a pleasant thing, but it does have some defects."

"Let's not brood on that!" Silvana
cried. "We escapedl
We
have our lives. We are
whole and healthy. That's something, isn't it?"

"By the sound, you have had great adventures,"
Edwina said, and Haldar nodded, smiling at her.

"Sit
and eat with us, and you shall hear. For just one thing, by what we shall tell
you, you will know that your son has a great heart and a strong arm. But for
nim
we would not be here at all."

"I
did but little!" Jack protested. "You were the brain, you and Jasar.
I was nothing wonderful...." But they wouldn't have that. As the food
disappeared and platters were shoved aside to make room, Edwina heard it in
full, blow by blow and fright by fright, bruggs and grats and proos, the giant
Garmel, the monstrous insects, everything. Jack kept marveling at the way she
understood all that was said. She made litle comment in words, but her face,
and her starts and gasps, told the tale of her reactions. When the tale was as
last done, her first thought was for Silvana.

"I
should have died of fright in your place," she confessed. "And you
so young. Why, you must be of an age with my Jack. You've told me not to call
you lady, and I will mind that word, but I will have my own thoughts on it all
the same. I'm proud that he served you well."

"He
did more." Silvana reached across the table to take her hand. "He
brought me home, for truly I feel at home in this place, in a world such as I
never thought to see again."

Edwina
hesitated a moment. "Forgive me if I speak boldly, my dear, but if that is
the garment in which you were near to drowning, it should be washed and
properly dried. I have nothing fine, but we are of a size I think, and I have
things you can choose from meanwhile.
If you'll come
upstairs?"

Haldar
watched them go, and chuckled. "Woman
talk
.
Two lovely ladies together.
Jack, will you show me something
of the span of your land? It seems we are to be here for some time, and Jasar
has all his work on the ship, so I feel I must do something in return for this
hospitality. Anyway, all at once I have an itch to do honest labor. Show
me."

The
sun was climbing high to noon as Jack brought his guest back to the cottage by
way of the winding river. "We call it Oastbeck," he said, "and
there are good trout to be had from it, if you know the art of it."

"I
remember a trick or two in that line, from my youth. It's a fair estate. Not
overly large, but enough to keep a man's hands from idleness. Had you thought
that just one of your gems would more than pay off all the debts you have
recounted to me?"

"That
thought has troubled me," Jack admitted. "No doubt the gems are
valuable, but there is no one hereabouts who knows of such things, nor would
believe that they are mine, or how I came by them. I have heard it said that in
London, a great city to the south of here, there are merchants who understand
such matters, also gold and silver work, but I doubt if they would deal with
one like me, except to rob me, perhaps. But
...
what is this?"

They
were rounding the cabbage patch now, and there, heads together, were his mother
and Silvana, crouching and chattering. "These are radishes
...
and these onions.
Potatoes
there.
All good for eating if properly
prepared,
only 'tis best not to cook radishes, but to chop and grind and
sprinkle...." She looked up, pink-faced and more animated than Jack could
remember seeing her in a long time. "You have looked over our little
holding, then?" she asked, standing, brushing off her hands on her apron.

"I
like it," Haldar declared. "There are fences to mend, a few invading
bushes to clear, some trees that could do with pruning
...
but when was it ever otherwise, on a farm? You must let me do
what I can, Edwina. And, Silvana, you must let Jack show you the deer.
Real deer, running wild!"

Jack
hardly heard him. All his eyes were for Silvana. She had put on a simple,
smocked dress of fine cream-colored linen that hugged her down to her waist
and then flared generously as far as mid-thigh. He remembered his mother in it
years ago, but not that she filled it nearly so amply. And with her hair tied
into a tail with a ribbon, she looked like any peasant girl, but more radiant
than they could ever be.

"Vegetables!"
she said, as if tasting the word. "And they grow right here, in the soil,
by themselves! After that, I can believe anything, even deer running
wild!"

After
a simple lunch he took her to see the deer, and the long-legged shy-eyed fawns,
and much else besides. If she was entranced with everything she saw, he was
equally fascinated by the way, through her eyes, he saw so many things he had
taken for granted in the past but which were somehow new to him now.
Wild flowers.
Butterflies.
The many birds that seemed to come and listen to her trilling.
A squirrel that stood on a branch and chattered at her.
A busy, grumpy badger.
White-tailed
rabbits.
A thousand times she stopped to point and marvel. And often,
from sheer delight, she would fling her arms around him and hug him. The long
afternoon became a dream that he wanted never to end, but the down-dropping sun
warned them both that time keeps on passing. They paused to rest a while on a
grassy slope in the red sunshine, not far from the cottage, and she stretched
out luxuriously on her back, quite at ease. On an elbow, nearby, he had full
liberty to wach and
adore
the way her hair spilled on
the green grass, the perfect line of her profile and throat, the golden swell
of her breasts almost spilling from the low bodice and the sheen of her long
legs as the evening breeze flirted with her hem.

BOOK: John Rackham
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Dragon's Prize by Sophie Park
Frost by Robin W Bailey
Fixed in Fear by T. E. Woods
Chasing Dare by Mikayla Lane
Drive Me Crazy by Erin Downing
Malcolm X by Manning Marable
Gifts by Burkhart, Stephanie
Always by Celia Juliano
Fighting Me by Cat Mason