“Yes, my Lady. My apologies.” Paganus bowed his head to her. He did not like that he had disappointed her. “It will not happen again.”
“I know it won’t.” Abby put a hand on Paganus’ arm, giving it an encouraging squeeze before looking back to Cairbre. “But I am glad you are here Cairbre for you see we have discovered an amazing piece of furniture and Master Paganus believes it was created by one of your mutual ancestors for King Varick.”
“What!” Cairbre couldn’t hide his shock. “That’s impossible! None of those furnishings could have survived this long. He,” Cairbre gestured at Paganus, “knows nothing about the craft. He is nothing but a servant!”
Paganus stiffened at the insult.
“He is Master Paganus of House Rigel.” Abby’s voice was hard and cold, her eyes glittering as she spoke. “He is in charge of caring for this Wing and he has the trust and belief of his Lord and Lady, craftsman Cairbre. He is also someone that I consider a friend. You will respect him. Is that understood?”
“I… yes…” Cairbre stuttered.
“Yes what?!!” Abby demanded. She wasn’t one to demand the use of the title, but Cairbre was pissing her off.”
“My Lady.” Cairbre continued to stutter and wasn’t sure who had the more surprised look on their face him or Paganus.
“Good.” Abby nodded her head decisively. “Now that we all understand that I will show you the piece in question and we will see just who knows their craft.” Turning she led Cairbre to the bed.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Cairbre was dumbstruck as he stood staring at the pieces before him. It couldn’t be… dropping to his knees, his hand shook slightly as he ran it over the gallchnó dubh taking in the silky feel that only time could give the wood. He ran it along the edges of the carvings that while they had mellowed with time were still strong.
Ignoring the pain it caused his old joints Cairbre rolled over onto his back and worked his way under the frame. He had to see how the pieces were joined. It would tell him when the piece had been made. He wanted to see if the patina ran true everywhere. There were many that would fake the exterior of a piece, but ignore the unseen areas. And then there was the mark… the one known only by his family… it was the mark placed only on the furniture meant for the King himself, made for him by his ‘Master Woodworker’.
Each Master created his own unique mark that was added to his ruler’s. They were documented in a secret ledger. The stamp used to make the mark was destroyed at the Master’s death so that none would be able to claim their work as his. Finding the mark Cairbre felt his universe shift.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Abby silently watched as Cairbre studied the bedframe. She had no doubt that it had been Varick and Rawnie’s, especially not after Ynyr’s reaction to it. It had just felt right to Abby and that was even before Paganus had told her about the King and Queen.
She watched Cairbre’s hand tremble as it glided over it and knew he felt its power. Suddenly Abby realized that was exactly what it was. Somehow this bed had a power, her eyes moved up to the mianraí dubh embedded in the headband holding back Rawnie’s hair. Was there a connection there?
When Cairbre suddenly disappeared under the bed, she raised an eyebrow at Paganus who shrugged his shoulders while shaking his head indicating he had no clue what the other male was doing. Finally, several minutes later Cairbre appeared on the other side of the bed, pale and struggling to get to his feet. Abby was immediately at his side helping him and didn’t miss his small groan.
“Thank you, my Lady,” he said absently before moving towards the cameo to stare at it.
Cairbre’s quiet words surprised Abby for this was not the same male that had gone under the bed moments before. This one looked as if his world had suddenly changed and he was no longer sure of his place in it. When Paganus opened his mouth to reprimand Cairbre, Abby waved him off. Something important was happening here.
“Queen Rawnie.” Cairbre whispered in awe, his hand, openly shaking, as he touched the cameo’s cheek.
“Yes.” Abby said quietly.
Tears freely flowed down Cairbre’s cheeks when he turned to look at Abby. “It survived… I am touching something that Master Woodworker Fyodor created for King Varick to gift to Queen Rawnie…” his eyes ran over the bed. “They rested together on this every night… every one of their offspring was created and presented on this… the Queen met the Goddess on this…”
Abby felt her eyes fill at the emotion this male was expressing. His reverence and love not only for the female, but for what had once been hers, was undeniable. It took a moment but something he said suddenly registered.
“Wait… they rested together?”
“Yes, of course they did.” Cairbre looked at her as if it were common knowledge. “All Tornians did until it fell out of favor with the females after the great infection. It is said to be another one of the Goddess’ punishments.”
“Maybe it had more to do with the fact that sleeping with a male signifies that you love him, that you care about him and are planning on staying with him.” Abby fired back. “It is something your females no longer do and from what I have learned most of you males do not want it either. You only want her ‘gift’, not her!”
Cairbre gave her a considering look. “You are correct in that… Tornian females have no wish to stay with just one male.”
“Not all of them are that way. Lady Isis has been with Lord Oryon for over twenty-five years.”
“She is an anomaly.” Cairbre said dismissively and it angered Abby. Isis had been shunned by her own people because she refused to leave the male she loved and this male who frowned on Tornian females for not resting with a male was being just as critical.
“How dare you,” Abby moved to stand toe to toe with Cairbre, anger radiating off her, “stand there and criticize that Tornian females do not stay with one male but when one does you dismiss her! She is my Lord’s mother and you will speak of her with respect!”
Cairbre looked down at the tiny female in shock. She was confronting him. She was defending another female! When had the universe changed?
“I… of course… apologies my Lady, it won’t happen again.”
Abby stared at him for several long seconds before nodding. “I will take you at your word Cairbre. Don’t make me regret it. So you now believe this piece was once King Varick’s and Queen Rawnie’s.”
“Yes, my Lady, it bears the mark.”
“Mark? What mark?” Paganus demanded.
When Cairbre didn’t answer Abby frowned at him. “Cairbre?”
“It is information that has never been shared except with the ruler of Etruria and his Master Woodworker.”
“I believe we can trust Paganus and as I am now the Lady of this House it is my right to know.”
“I… yes, my Lady.” Cairbre couldn’t believe he was telling a female this. “A Master Woodworker has a special mark that he uses only for his ruler. Chosen by that ruler. It is only put on pieces made for the private use of that ruler and only while that ruler lives. It is destroyed when the ruler meets the Goddess. It is always placed in a certain spot and only another Master would know whose mark it is.”
“And you found Fyodor’s mark?”
“Yes, my Lady,” Cairbre’s eyes returned to the bed. “There is no doubt that this was made by Master Fyodor. I just don’t understand how it could have survived…”
“Were there other pieces?”
“Oh yes, my Lady. There were nightstands, dressers, tables, chairs.” Cairbre’s eyes shone as he spoke, telling Abby he truly loved what he did. “This entire wing was once filled with Fyodor’s life work. The rest of the House was filled with work he oversaw in his shop.”
“What happened to it all?” Abby asked.
“Much was used as it was meant to be and wore out. It was replaced by the work of later Masters. As for those pieces made specifically for the King and Queen…” Cairbre’s eyes saddened, “much was los
t to changing styles.”
“But it couldn’t have been destroyed. It was the furnishings of a King.”
“No, not destroyed, but… some pieces were sent with the King and Queen’s offspring… the rest… I do not know my Lady… it could be it was offered to the past females of the Lords.”
“I see. So there are no records.”
“I… not that I would know of my Lady but it has been over two hundred years since we have been the Masters in this House.”
“Who is the Master?” Abby turned to Paganus suddenly realizing she didn’t know.
“Master Mare.” Cairbre sneered before Paganus could respond. “He is a hack! He has no taste. No style. He makes what Bertos orders, no matter what?”
“And that is something you would not do if you were the Master Woodworker of this House? You would not build what your Lord or Lady demanded?” Abby asked quietly finding she really wanted to know.
“While it is the Master’s responsibility to build what his Lord demands, it is also his responsibility to guide him. A Lord has more important things to worry about than what wood is best for what piece. What finish will last the longest. That is the Master’s job.”
“And you would be willing to disagree with your Lord if you thought he was wrong?”
“It is what a Master should do.”
“And Master Mare does not do this?”
“Obviously not since he lives.” Cairbre told her.
“I see.” And Abby did. No one disagreed with Bertos and lived. “Have you seen what Mare has produced?”
“Yes.” Cairbre’s distaste was evident.
“So you would not be upset that I had nearly all the other furnishing from this and the first level removed.”
“Not at all.”
Abby nodded then looked to the cameo of Queen Rawnie. “So do you think you have the skills to recreate something this beautiful?” She asked running a hand down one of the carved posts.
“No one can recreate this.” Cairbre immediately told her. “This is a masterpiece.”
Abby found she liked his honesty. “I agree Cairbre maybe recreate is not the right word how about the word similar? If the rest of the original pieces have been lost, then I want something that can stand beside this and not be like the hideous pieces that were here when I arrived. Paganus has told me that you make exceptional furniture and that is what this House deserves.”
“Master Mare…”
“Will be dealt with.” She waved a dismissing hand. “Come, I would like to show you the pieces I did keep. Perhaps you could tell me who made them.” As they went to leave the chamber Abby paused, looking at the doors with the hideous and poorly carved ‘B’ on them. “I don’t suppose there is a way to get rid of that without destroying the wood is there?”
Cairbre paused to inspect the doors. “No, my Lady, I’m sorry. It is too deeply carved.”
“I was afraid of that. The male that ruined these doors should be shot. Can you build replacements? I refuse to have those,” she gestured distastefully to the doors, “as the doors of our resting chambers.”
“I can, my Lady but….”
“But what Cairbre?”
“These are not the original door to this chamber my Lady.”
“They’re not?” Abby’s eyes widened in surprise.
“No, my Lady. No one would have been able to carve on the original doors. They refused to take a blade.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because it was one of my ancestors that tried to carve the doors for the entrance of this Wing.”
“You mean the ‘G’?” Abby thought back to those doors. While she hated anything that reminded her of Bertos the ‘G’ was actually beautifully done. “Your ancestor did that?”
“Yes, my Lady, after the Emperor…” Cairbre trailed off giving her a worried look.
“I know to what you are referring Cairbre, go on.”
“Yes, well after, this House’s name was changed to Guttuso and the new Lord thought to make a statement so he directed his Master Woodworker to carve the ‘G’.”
“So those doors could ‘take a blade’ but not these.”
“No, my Lady, they too refused that is why they were replaced, nearly five hundred years ago. These doors were changed out more recently, I’d say in the last twenty or so years.”
“When Bertos became Lord.”
“Yes.”
“So what happened to the original doors?”
“Of the exterior ones my ancestor stored them in the rafters of the Master’s shop. Of the ones that were here… I do not know.”
“Could they too be in the shop?”
“It is possible.”
“We need to find out.”
“I would never be allowed in the Master’s shop my Lady.”
“Oh yes, you will. Paganus.” Abby turned to him.
“I will see to it my Lady.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Enter.” Ynyr ordered still reading the report in his hand.
Captain Dai came to stand in front of Ynyr’s desk. “Are you sure that was the right thing to do Lord Ynyr?” At Ynyr’s questioning eyebrow he continued. “Turning the Warriors into Trainers, these males came here to help you secure and rebuild this House.”
“That is what they are doing. How would you do it Captain Dai? By removing every male here? How does that build a House?”
“You would then have your choice of every Warrior here. Warriors you know to be worthy.”
“And would they then be mine, Captain?” Ynyr demanded. “Oh, I certainly plan on offering positions to those I deem worthy and compatible with what I am going to be doing here. Two have already accepted. But without a training program, a fit and worthy training program no House can survive. I plan on making sure mine does and that my Warriors are the most sought after and highly respected ones in all the Empire!”
“That is going to take time Lord Ynyr. A great deal of time and while you are doing that who is going to make sure this region is running properly?”
“Are you questioning my abilities, Captain?” Ynyr slowly rose to his feet. “I remind you that I am a Lord and you are a Captain!”
“Of the Emperor’s Special Guard!”
“Yes, one who the Emperor believed would be fit to assist me. You are not in charge! I am. Are we clear?”
“Of course Lord Ynyr.”
“Good. Now that we have arrived Korin will be taking over some of your other duties so you can help evaluate the males. They are going to need a lot of work.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Cairbre’s eyes traveled over the furniture the new Lady of the House had deemed acceptable. He couldn’t believe it. Every piece was from one of the past Masters of his family.
“These meet your approval?” Abby asked, seeing that they did.
“My approval is hardly necessary my Lady but yes, these are beautiful pieces.”
“From your family?”
“Yes.”
“Would you be willing to show me the mark?”
Tipping over a chair Cairbre pointed to what appeared to be a Hammer burned into the wood with some lettering that meant nothing to Abby.
“This is the mark of Master Woodworker Om, he is the one that carved the entrance doors to the Wing. The writing you see around it is ancient Tornian and is Lord Radek Guttuso’s name.”
“You said the symbol changes?”
“Yes, my Lady, each ruler chooses his own mark, symbolizing his reign.”
“So what was King Varick’s mark?”
“A sword, my Lady, a blazing sword.” Abby smiled slightly, that made sense and it seemed to her that maybe the Gods were trying to tell them something.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
“She’s very bright for such a little thing.” Raiden said, looking to his Goddess.
“She is… especially after all she has had to overcome… but in the end… will she be able to overcome it? Will Ynyr be able t
o accept it?”
“That will be for them to decide my Goddess.”
“I know, but so much hinges on them.”
“Then we will help them when we can but we both know this must be resolved. She will never become the Lady, Ynyr needs if she doesn’t trust him with this and Ynyr will never become the Lord he could be without her at his side. They will be the beginning of a new era in Etruria, but only if they are together.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
“I am the Lord’s Master Woodworker! I demand entrance!” The muffled shout had all three heads turning to look at the entrance doors.
“Can I assume that is…”
“Master Mare.” Cairbre sneered.
“I see.” Abby moved towards the doors.
“My Lady, no!” Paganus reached her just in time. “You are to never open these doors. Move back and I will see what the problem is.”
Abby rolled her eyes at Paganus but did as he requested.
Paganus slowly opened the doors and found Warriors Navon and Morio standing with their arms crossed over their chests staring down at an enraged Master Mare.
“What is the meaning of all this noise?” Paganus demanded.
“This male thinks to enter the Lord’s Wing.” Navon told him.
“I am…” Mare began.
“I know who you are Mare. Why are you here?”
“You will show me respect you little…”
Navon drew his sword. “You will show respect to Master Paganus or I will send you to the Goddess.”
“Master Paganus?”
“Yes. Master Paganus.” Abby stepped forward so she could be seen, but made sure she was still behind Paganus. “Who are you? Why are you demanding entrance into my Wing?”
Inspiration had struck when she had first heard Mare. Before she had spoken she had pulled on Cairbre’s arm until he lowered his head. When she whispered what she wanted him to do his eyes had widened then filled with respect. With a nod he had straightened.