Ойкумена / Oikumena: Глава 19

Part III And hell will follow us

Camrad_RIP 18.12.23 в 09:50

Chapter 19 Practical economics

Camrad_RIP 18.12.23 в 10:27

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Camrad_RIP 16.12.23 в 10:53

Like a normal noblewoman, Flessa had an extensive retinue. Personal servants, jewelry and clothing guards, gate and wall guards, a key-keeper, cooks, tapestry makers, barbers, groomsmen, and so on. And also about a dozen squires of the old duke as privileged "companions." The companions under Mourier's direction acted as couriers and bodyguards, slept at the door of private chambers, recounted the news of the city and Court, and entertained by reading aloud tales of love and exploits. Thus, the heiress was almost always in the company of someone else.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:39

But the realm of assistants ended on the third floor of the mansion, at the door to the duchess's private quarters. Training with the "dummy" was one-on-one, and Elena suspected that was a separate reason for Flessa to appreciate fencing lessons. It was a way for the heiress to gain legitimate privacy. The companions were unhappy to the extreme with the appearance of someone who came in as neither a fighter nor a fencer. Especially since each of the generous men had all the skills of a class fighter and would have been happy to play the role of a sparring partner. But Flessa kept a tight grip on the Rodent Murier, and he, in turn, knew how to maintain the necessary level of discipline among the staff. So, the rejection of the prison wreck was limited only by angry glances from behind the scenes. On the other hand, Elena tried not to get into trouble, taking off her hat in time, bowing, and generally following the rituals.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:41

A blow, another blow. Flessa was advancing, shielded by a circular shield. A tall figure in layered protection, her face obscured beneath a mask of sturdy vine. Elena crouched and leaned slightly, turning her left side to face her opponent. The wooden swords struck the leather paneling simultaneously with a thud. Elena retreated half a step, thrusting her training blade forward, propping it up with her shield for stability. The technique was simple and designed for a hasty pursuer who was in a hurry to develop an attack and was ready to jump on the spearhead. Elena didn't expect it to work but rather tried to gain a few moments to assess the situation and somehow change the course of the fight.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:43

Flessa tapped her blade against the very end of Elena's, showing that the ruse had been seen and unraveled. It seemed to Elena that two lights glowed in the darkness of the mask, like blue-eyed ghosts. The opponents moved in a circle with small cautious steps. The girl felt that a little more, and she would begin to suffocate. It was to be hoped that the fight had not added to Flessa's stamina either. Serious fights had many unpleasant and not at all cinematic nuances. For example, it was incredibly hot in thick quilts. How real warriors fight, say, in ringlets with felt undershirts, Elena was even afraid to imagine. But wooden swords, though they didn't kill, left big bruises. It wasn't a problem to break something with them if you were unlucky enough.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:45

Flessa froze, putting out her right leg and lowering her blade very low, provoking an attack. Elena realized it was a trap, but she couldn't resist. And "from the wrist," almost without connecting the elbow hit the open shoulder at the same time with a step to the left. It was assumed that the duchess would cover herself with a shield and counter-strike, for which the "dummy" was already ready... Here, Flessa once again gave a surprise. She parried the blade into the blade and, in turn, stepped sideways, bypassing Elena's defense, marking a kick to the leg under the shield. The healer miraculously evaded the whipping swing purely due to the science of Drafter's Steps and sheer luck.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:53

Elena gritted her teeth beneath the mask and whistled, glad that the mask wasn't soundproof. The blue lights flickered again behind the bars, and Elena realized she'd been wrong about the soundproofing. More than anything, she wanted to attack frantically, throwing an avalanche of blows at the duchess, wiping away the smile of superiority from her marble face, which she couldn't see but imagined perfectly. There was also no doubt that this was exactly what Flessa was waiting for, ready to take the impulse "on edge." Elena clenched her jaws and went round again, crouching even lower and raising her shield high, her fist over her ear, her arm closer to her body, so that the motion went from her shoulder up and down. The loose, relaxed grip of the shield was a typical mistake of non-professionals, paid for with bruises at best. You can't cheat physics, and even if the blow doesn't penetrate the double layer of leather-covered wood, the kinetic energy doesn't disappear.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:56

"You hold your sword like a spinning wheel!" prodded Flessa through her mask, so it was unclear how she had the breath for everything. "And the shield is like a tray!"

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:57

Elena remained silent, waiting for the right second, hoping for a slip of the tongue. Over dozens of fights with Flessa, she realized that even a good technique of Draftsman was not enough to fight on equal terms. Though the Duchess was inferior in some respects, she often beat her partner due to more practice.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 11:58

A blow, another blow. The parquet under their feet creaked softly, paying tribute to tradition. Wooden floors in rich houses were specially made "singing", two-layered. First, the main flooring was laid out, then copper nails were hammered into it, and patterned boards were laid on top of it. The resulting array hummed melodiously with every step, preventing the assassin from sneaking up.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:06

The midday sun was beating through the windows, forcing her to maneuver to avoid facing the blinding light. They exchanged lunges again. Elena fought back a horizontal blow to the neck, and for a few moments, they fought rapier-style, striking with the upper quarter of their blades from a good distance. Then Flessa came up trumps, trying to penetrate Elena with brute force, vertical blows to the head with all her might at an extremely fast pace so her partner had time only to parry. The medic shuddered. The whole thing reminded her of the terrible boarding party, Shena's last suicidal attack, and the hail of blows she had thrown at her sorceress opponent.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:08

Elena exhaled, feeling a wave of blinding rage wash over her eyes. The Draftsman wouldn't have failed to give her a good beating with a stick, lecturing her about cold thinking in battle. But he wasn't there, and the fencer's apprentice stepped right under the swing, hitting the shield with her shield. Flessa staggered, having to step back and spread her arms wide, catching her balance. Elena struck her short garda with force into her breastplate, knocking her opponent over. She stepped on the shield, preventing Flessa from rising, and swung again, preparing to finish her off. The duchess hurriedly threw her sword away, raising her empty palm in a thick glove.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:12

The vicious violence ebbed away. A couple of moments later, Elena was already ashamed of the outburst. The victorious woman unclenched her fingers, releasing her training blade, and held out her hand to Flessa, helping her stand up. The Duchess rose heavily, seeming to be as tired as her visage. Her movements seemed to drag and slow. When Flessa finally stood upright, the blue eyes behind the bars flashed with sudden ferocity. Elena realized she was caught, but it was too late. Flessa slid toward her, pressing close, snatching a small dagger from its sheath on her left forearm. A real one, never once a study dagger. The faceted point pricked just below her ribs, indicating that the cotton-lined jacket was no barrier to the weapon.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:16

Elena froze, afraid to take a breath.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:16

// Damn...

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:16

Flessa put her dagger away and removed her shield. With both hands, she unfastened the fastener and pulled off the helmet mask. She shook her head, gulping air with her mouth. Drops of sweat covered her white face, and her laced hair was disheveled.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:17

//Damn it, this is a training match!

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:18

"Never give mercy," admonished the Duchess sternly, still breathing heavily. "Never! You will be stabbed in the back, and no one will appreciate your nobility. Everyone will say, here is a man who failed to dispose of the gift of Pantocrator!" [1]

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:19

Elena bowed her head, acknowledging the mistake.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:27

"But it was good!" Flessa evened out her breathing. "Two fights out of five are yours."

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:34

"I thought we were training you, but it seems more like I'm the one learning," Elena remarked.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:35

"And that's good!" the duchess was in a good mood. "I made the right choice. You're strong enough. Our fights make me work hard and sharpen my skills. And you're evolving, which means I have to keep the score at three to two, not two to three. Next time, we'll try sabers. Or something shorter. without shields."

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:36

"Happy to serve," Elena repeated the "swan curtsy," remembering that Flessa was madly fond of it.

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:27

"I am proud to accept worthy service," replied the Duchess in the classic form of accepting a valuable favor and changed the subject. "Wait a moment, I must read the letter."

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:27

There was a separate fencing room in the manor house, which the Wartensleben's rented for several years in advance. But the women usually practiced martial arts in Flessa's study, which adjoined her bedroom. There was plenty of space, the huge room took up nearly a quarter of the floor and seemed sparsely furnished. High floor-to-ceiling windows, several bookcases that were always locked, a huge table of dark yellow wood covered with silky leather so fine that one wanted to run one's palms over it, savoring the feeling of perfection. It was not without reason that leather in every conceivable form and finish was Malersyde's trademark. What spoiled the beauty was a constellation of old ink stains. These, and the many sheets of paper and the bottle of ink, showed that the table was not an object of decoration. It was a place where people worked regularly and a lot.

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:30

Among other things on the table was a weighty expense journal, a mighty stack of paper sheets enclosed in a brown binder. Elena had imagined the life of an aristocrat as a series of amusements and, consequently, the scattering of gold left and right. And so it was - outwardly. But behind the facade of frivolous spending, there was meticulous accounting.

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:32

Flessa herself kept the books for all expenses. The salaries of the lower level servants down to the baker's assistant boy, the maintenance of "body" and "room" servants, bodyguards, couriers, postal services. Donations to the church, distribution of alms, purchases small, medium and large. Shoes and shoes, cloth, clothing - numerous gifts to family friends in the capital, children of family friends, and useful people like scriveners. Parchment, dressed leather, needles, and other gear bought for the craftsmen, who in turn carried out special orders for the young noblewoman. The expense of a home tailor to cut off the pile of worn clothing. Chests of tanned leather. Reeds for lining the floors of servants' quarters and other "noble" rooms. Copper, pewter, and "lordly" utensils. Candles, lamps, luminous oil, magic lamps. Wine bought, wine received as a gift, beer brewed by a female brewer directly in the Duchess's house. Everything was accounted for down to the last coin.

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:33

This time, near the familiar red folio, there was another book, similar in format but bound in black leather and with an ingenious lock with no visible hole. But Elena only glanced at the new object. As usual, the woman glanced at the armor that stood to the left of the duchess's desk on a polished stand made of precious northern birch. It could be called armor with a great stretch. The construction was more associated with something fortress-like, reminiscent of a tower. Several cylinders of black bronze on belt loops and rivets with chopped caps formed a cuirass, a long skirt below the knees, as well as a gorget up to the level of the eyes. All this was crowned with a soup bowl-like helmet, lined with boar fangs so often that the metal was barely visible beneath the yellow, time-cracked bone. Flessa had mentioned that it was a family heirloom, the lats of ancient times, made before the rise of the Old Empire. Walking in bronze buckets was nearly impossible. Riding was impossible on principle. Elena assumed that, most likely, in front of her was a charioteer's armor, a self-propelled battle turret, apparently for an archer. But in any case, it looked incredibly impressive.

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:35

Next to the armor, on the very corner of the table, next to the black book, was a weighty pouch with the characteristic folds that only coins give. It was a lot of coins and not a silver change. The pouch was untied, and the precious burden was partially spilling out. The midday rays had reached here, and the coins glistened in the reflected light. Wow, the coinage is brand new! Something about the money seemed unusual, strange. Elena didn't have time to think about it. Flessa firmly moved her guest aside and covered the purse with a large sheet of parchment.

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:38

The women exchanged glances for a few moments, and then Elena sighed and shrugged, admitting defeat. Yes, it was rude, but on the other hand, she shouldn't have stared so obviously at someone else's gold. Or silver...? What was wrong with the coins after all...

Camrad_RIP 21.12.23 в 15:40

"A bath," Flessa said, showing with a smile that the brief incident, whatever it was, was over. "We need a bath."

Camrad_RIP 22.12.23 в 20:36

"Definitely," Elena agreed enthusiastically.

Camrad_RIP 22.12.23 в 20:37

She watched with satisfaction as her friend removed her workout clothes, throwing felt slippers, jacket, and stockings with stitched rollers across the shiny floor. With only a thin cloth shirt left, Flessa looked over her shoulder.

Camrad_RIP 22.12.23 в 20:37

"Are you with me?"

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:36

The women smiled without collusion, remembering a not-so-long-ago situation when the same words were spoken by another.

Camrad_RIP 22.12.23 в 20:39

"Yes, of course," Elena unbuckled the leather belt that supported the man's pants. Contrary to custom, she kept a knife, more like a scalpel in a wooden sheath, in her codpiece than petty cash.

Camrad_RIP 22.12.23 в 20:39

"Let me help."

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:46

She stood behind the duchess and helped her pull her sweat-wet, wide-sleeved shirt over her head. At the same time, she couldn't resist the temptation to touch Flessa's neck, which was revealed from beneath the short haircut. The heiress had a long yet strong neck that grew into graceful shoulders without any of the slouching that characterized city dwellers. Flessa had the royal posture of a man who was not accustomed to bowing her head to anyone, who had been well nourished since childhood and was accustomed to rigorous exercise.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:48

Elena's gaze fell on her lover's naked back, and the smooth glide of her fingertips was disrupted. Now, the medicine woman saw what she had only felt before, clutching Flessa in her arms - a few criss-cross scars, looking provocative, even offensive against the white skin, untouched by tan. Elena from Earth had no idea where they might have come from. Lunna from the prison, on the other hand, recognized at a glance the long-standing, well-healed marks of a whipping. Years ago, Flessa had been brutally whipped, not to maim but to inflict maximum pain,

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:45

The Duchess flinched as if she had eyes in the back of her head. She shrugged, threw off her shirt, and stepped forward without turning around. She even straightened up even more, even though it seemed impossible. As she watched Flessa march without turning her head, she licked her parched lips and hurried out of her pants and undershirt.

Camrad_RIP 23.12.23 в 10:04

The water poured from the jug in a hot stream, almost scalding. Elena moaned through her teeth, experiencing the ecstatic delight that only an athlete and a fighter could understand. The bath wash pulled the fatigue out of her body and caressed the fresh bruises pleasantly - training was training, but she beat Flessa in full force, as she received in return. Besides, the warm bath was an incredible luxury, and Elena savored every moment. Usually, the bath also came with a masseur, but today, they had to do without him; the master had dislocated his finger in a street fight and was temporarily incapacitated.

Camrad_RIP 23.12.23 в 10:06

To hell with it. It's good enough. Elena put her hands on the brass railings. She checked the knot in the towel she'd wrapped around her hair. The dye was permanent, but Elena still had nightmares of Ranjan recognizing her by the sudden redness. That, by the way, was also a problem. Given that Elena was now intimately involved with an outsider, even to the point of sharing a bed, she had to color more thoroughly and more often. Although the black ointment didn't seem to spoil her hair, the medicine woman seriously feared for her hair. Perhaps in time, she would have to open up to her friend.

Camrad_RIP 23.12.23 в 11:17

"Out," Flessa nonchalantly sent the maids with the jugs away.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:43

Elena suppressed a grimace of displeasure as usual. The way the duchess treated the lower-ranking servants was one of the many things that irritated her immensely on the one hand and made her feel powerless on the other. Elena understood perfectly well that if she tried to push for human dignity, the aristocrat simply would not understand what she was talking about. The idea of "all men are equal" could easily lead to the interrogation cell because it directly attacked the foundations of class society.

Camrad_RIP 23.12.23 в 11:46

"Did you know that in the old days, healers used to prescribe separate baths for cooling spouses?" the duchess squinted, extending her left hand, the one with the rings, above her head. "In the same bathing room, facing each other."

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 18:30

"No," Elena smiled, sinking deeper into the large tub lined with a sheet so the metal wouldn't touch her skin. The bath smelled pleasantly of soap and scented sacks of dried southern flower petals.

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 18:31

"But it's true. Baths were required to be taken naked..." Flessa twirled her fingers, enjoying the gleams of the gems in the rings. "And in fine jewelry."

Camrad_RIP 23.12.23 в 11:47

"I'm going to take a wild guess. It warmed up the cooled feelings?"

Camrad_RIP 19.12.23 в 12:37