Corrigenda Chronicles: HOPE by SiobhantheWriter | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 32

2493 0 0

After Eldrick left the room, Sergei trying to rise, found that his joints were in more pain than just the weather could account for.  Glad for the bell at hand on the small side table, he picked it up and gave a ring.  Almost instantly a page poked his head in through the door. 

“You rang sir?” the eagerness in his voice hard to mask. 

“Yes, young man, I did.  I know that Amarna is currently on an errand outside the city and I need a decent poultice for my knees.  Also, I require the skills of a seamstress.  Not just any seamstress but the best you can find.”  The thoughts of what he was about to do caused a shiver to run down his spine.  He was taking a chance but it may be the only way to allay Eldrick’s worries.  There is also the possibility this would trigger old memories and cause the spell to be broken prematurely. 

These thoughts were still on his mind when there was a knock at the door.  “Come,” was all he got out before the door opened and a young healer entered, bag in hand.  Without a word he just looked Sergei over, pressing now and then on joints or laying a hand near the joint.  Every so often letting out a “tsk” or “tsk, tsk, tsk” as if admonishing an old man for getting old in the first place. 

“It seems sir, you have not been very kind to your body in the past.  You have the joints of a seventy-five-year-old field worker.  If you keep abusing it as you have, I highly doubt you will survive to see your eightieth year,” concern and scorn dripping with each syllable. 

Sergei narrowing his eyes and waggling a finger at the young healer, just shook his head.  “I will have you know that I find your findings both inaccurate and pleasantly commendatory.  I happen to be eighty-five, though honestly, I doubt I'll see many more winters.  Now that you have completed your evaluation if you would be so kind as to provide a remedy or at least a comfort for my aching joints.”  His voice was rich in scorn and derision for the uneducated, the growl inherent in the tone speaking volumes for his opinion of this particular practitioner of medicine. 

Retrieving his bag, the young healer began mixing the components for the compound needed to reduce the swelling in the knees and wrists.  “I am going to give you enough to last about a week.”  He pulled out the beeswax and proceeded to craft a salve to be rubbed into the swollen joints.  “If you need more please send for me again.”  With that, he rose.  “Now rub this into your wrists and knees as needed.” 

Gathering his supplies and returning them to his bag he nodded to Sergei, a glint of humour crinkling the edges of his eyes.  With a slight smirk and a nod, he left.  Holding the door for the seamstress who just happened to be arriving. 

“Druid, you requested my presence?”  Her voice indicating she didn’t understand the reasoning.  “I doubt there is anything I can do which you cannot.  Your clothing is well-tailored and I specialize in courtly gowns and dresses.”  The look of confusion that crossed her face and caused her eyes to widen was not something that could be fained. 

“Yes.  I requested your expertise, I have a task which I am incapable of completing on my own.  Do you have any samples with you?”  The grimace on his face was a pronounced implication of his displeasure at having to ask for help.  “My apprentice is questioning things and, I need your help in compiling a wardrobe of ladies gowns for him.  There are things in his past which need to be addressed, and this may be the only way to assuage them.” 

She reached into her bag and began removing swatches.  Chiffon, silk, satin, brocade, and muslin to name but a few.  “I have not brought all the colours available, though there are some which cannot be used on specific fabrics.  As to the styles of the gowns you need it will all depend on your apprentice's body type.  Unfortunately, most designs are used to accentuate certain aspects of the body.  If your apprentice is lacking those features, I may need to improvise.”  Her dour expression, displaying her desire not to be improvising. 

“I understand.  I hope there is much that can be accomplished without too much improvisation.”  Understanding written plainly across his face.  “My dear lady, I must apologize, I neglected to ask your name.  I am Sergei, you do not need to keep calling me Druid.” 

“Thank you, Sergei, I am Francine," her tone taking on a more friendly aspect.  "Now as to the possible colours, I can arrange brilliant reds and yellows, vibrant blues, and even some lovely rosy pinks.  I will need to take measurements of your apprentice to get the fit just right.  I can work with some of his current clothing if you have it available." She scowled as she looked around the room.  "However, going off other clothes will only be an estimate, I will need some additional fittings for a truly accurate fit.” 

With a wave of his hand, Sergei indicated the room Eldrick and Sebastian shared.  “There should be some in that room over there though it is occupied by my apprentice and his companion.  If you bring out an article of clothing I can tell you to whom it belongs.” 

Walking over to the room, she entered looking for clothes.  Opening the wardrobe she gathered an outfit of trews and tunic.  With the clothes in hand, she returned to the main room holding them up for Sergei to see.  Nodding, he indicated that both items belonged to his apprentice.  Grabbing her tape from around her neck and a small notepad from the pocket of her apron she set about taking measurements from the garments like outside leg, chest, shoulder and sleeve length.  “I hate the fact I am going to need to measure waist and hips to get these to sit with the correct flow.”  Her hands flew swiftly, emphasizing the motions of quick estimations.  Placing her forearm in the waistband of the trews she stretched them out to measure the inside band.  “Well, I have all I can get currently without the specimen here to take further measurements from.  Have you decided on fabric and colour yet?”  Her eyebrows raising, mouth quirking up in the corner, and her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“I am considering three different gowns in differing shades.  I am worried that the colouration may not be correct for his complexion.  I may be an old man but, I was once married and we had a daughter.  My wife was always concerned with the colour washing out our daughter or causing her to appear yellowish.”  Absently fingering the different fabrics to decide on the weave and weight which would be best.  “I am also concerned, travelling the gowns will be rolled into a pack and I would hate for them to be damaged by mistreatment.  Which fabrics are best suited for travel?” 

“Well the silk is a decent travelling material and so is the brocade.  Wool is always good but any gown made of wool can be cumbersome.  Linen is used primarily as shifts and kirtles so it will be unseen under the gown but used to give the gown body.  Also, Silk holds colour better than satin.  Both are smooth and sensual to the touch.  If you decide to go with silk gowns it would be best to have the kirtle and shift crafted of the same material.” 

“Ahh, I see, well then I think we could probably get away with a sapphire blue, a dusty rose pink and a sky-blue colour for the gowns.  Silk, satin and brocade. With all the required accoutrements necessary, of course.”  His gnarled hand scratching at his chin in thought. 

Francine nodding gathered up her samples and notes and began heading for the door.  Just then the door opened and Eldrick stood there in the doorway.  A look of surprise crossing his face. 

“Allow me to hold the door for you, ma’am,” he said as he stepped aside to permit her to pass.  She gave him a once over as if taking his measure with her eyes. 

“Well young man, I require your assistance, if you would be so kind as to accompany me.”  Her voice dripping with honey as she uttered those words.  Eldrick looked over at Sergei, who gave him a shooing motion. 

“It would be my pleasure to assist you,” bowing to her in respect.  Stepping back out of the room he held the door for her to egress through.  As she passed, he fell in behind her, closing the door as he did so. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your master has commissioned a few gowns for someone, who is about the same size and colouration as yourself, as a surprise.  If you would be so kind as to stand in as a model, it would be greatly appreciated.  I am going to need to take some measurements and see which colours work best with your skin tones.”  Her matter-of-fact tone left no question as to her veracity. 

“I can do that yes, though I doubt my measurements will be completely accurate.  After all, I do not have breasts and isn’t that an important measurement for gowns?”  Concern etching his voice. 

“It can be yes, though your master made it clear the person for whom the gowns are for is not particularly endowed.”  Her inflection causing Eldrick to stumble.  “Besides there are ways to accentuate what is there in a way to be indistinguishable from those with more.” 

They continued in silence until they arrived at her workshop.  His first look at the variety of fabrics and colours causing his eyes to widen and his mouth to drop.  He couldn’t believe his eyes.  So many bolts of cloth in one place and all of them were so beautiful.  He felt desire and fear run through his body as he realized there was a king’s ransom in cloth here. 

“Oh, I have never seen that expression before.  Close your mouth young Eldrick or you might swallow a fly,” the mirth and joy redolent in her response at seeing his expression.  “Now, if you would be so kind as to stand on the stool there so that I may take the measurements I need.  Then we will see about colour.” 

She spent several minutes adjusting his stance and positioning to get a variety of measurements.  Then spending a great deal of time draping fabrics to find the most complimentary colours and fabrics.  Once she found the appropriate combinations, she placed several bolts of cloth on the cutting table.  There were bolts of lavender, sapphire, dusty rose, and vermillion in silk, satin and a light wool brocade.  Eldrick smiled at seeing the colours though he knew the gowns were being made for someone else. 

Bowing his way out, he bid Francine a good day.  With a spring in his step as he returned to the suite he shared with Sergei.  Smiling to everyone he passed.  He admired the artwork or the sculptures lining the walls in their neat little niches.  Recalling Victor’s words from their first night in the castle, Eldrick was surprised he knew next to nothing about Shay or Craglim Reach. 

With a flash of insight, he picked up his pace.  He burst into the room with a crash. 

“Sorry, I was in too much of a hurry to get back to my studies.  There is so much I need to learn.  I have no clue where Shay is or what they export other than statuary.  All I know of Craglim Reach is they create the finest threads available in the world and that it is ruled by a Queen.”  His words flowing out of his mouth almost faster than he could form the thoughts.  Closing the door with care, he sat and prepared his mind for trance. 

With his mind slowed, he began.  With alarming speed, he began digesting even the driest of tomes.  He was searching for any nugget of information that could be vital.  He snapped out of the trance with the enticing aromas of baked salmon with lemon and ginger, yams and butter, and roasted corn on the cob.  Looking about he caught sight of the setting sun in the east windows. 

“I didn’t realize it was so late.  Why didn’t you rouse me from trance earlier?”  Looking over at Sergei he noticed his mentor was asleep in the chair.  Smiling to himself, Eldrick rose and gently nudging his master to wake him for dinner.  “Master, the pages brought our dinner.  Both of us were oblivious to our surroundings at the time.  That is not a good thing right now.  There are still those who wish us harm running free.  We cannot be dropping our guards like this, at least not at the same time.”  His tongue tripping over his words.  “I wish Sebastian or Sigmund were here.  Then there would be someone to watch our backs or keep one of us aware at any rate.” 

Sergei smiled at the concern of Eldrick.  “Hand me a platter of food would lad?  I am famished and that salmon smells divine.”  Raising his hand to receive the platter from Eldrick.  Retrieving his own platter Eldrick caught a glimpse of berry tarts. 

As they ate, the conversation travelled from their plans to get to the conclave on time to the different countries around Herigmark.  Culture and military to economics and exports.  Eldrick surprised himself by the fact he actually enjoyed the dry topics he had just been studying.  Once placed into the context of the world around him and not just some facts and figures in a dusty old tome.  Looking down at the pile of books, there were only one or two he hadn’t read. 

Picking up the volumes he read the titles “Dragon Culture” and “The life cycle of the Procyvid”.  His subconscious registering the lack of information on the Fae.  His left eye quirked up at the thought, while his mouth took a decidedly downward turn. 

“Are there no volumes about the Fae?  It seems odd that a nation as vast and old would have nothing written about them.” 

“To be honest I have found little written about the Fae and most of what I have found is conjecture at best.”  A scowl conveyed his dismay at this fact.  “The Fae are rather insular, prefering not to have many dealings with members of our race.  I am not sure if even the dragons have anything on them.  I have yet to find a draconic library I could peruse.  Even if I did, their writing is almost indecipherable.”  The look of wistful longing in his eyes shadowed the words. 

Eldrick, stifling a yawn rose to retrieve the berry tarts.  Offering them to Sergei first was the appropriate gesture for one of his position.  Sergei took one and waved the rest away.  Eldrick grinning to see there were still three on the tray, proceeded to devour them.  A look of complete bliss embellishing his features as the thick berry filling blended with the crisp flakey crust. 

“I think it is about time to turn in for the night,” Sergei mentioned, reaching for the bottle of medicine sitting on the table beside him.  “I had to see a healer today for my joints and I would prefer not to repeat the encounter.”  Chuckling he took a pull from the bottle, rose and started moving in the direction of his sleeping chamber.


Support SiobhantheWriter's efforts!

Please Login in order to comment!