The Ferryman - Book 1

Chapter 27:

Dinner with Sentries

It took almost two months of persuading and tearful, angry protests, but by July Ursula at last forced her family to have a dinner with her fiancée on the threat she would elope and never see them again.

Priscilla and Mrs. Tunhofe refused to come, but Rodin came well dressed and bright-eyed.

“He may be the dirt guard,” said Rodin excitedly to Nehem, “but he is new, and I do like meeting new people.”

Vade had been worn down by Ursula, and she and Ira made a well-dressed dinner. Vade was torn between not wanting to serve anything decent to Sentries, and not wanting them to think they didn’t know how to cook properly.

Ursula had gotten Norwin and Clem on her side with her fervent tears; neither Japh, Ira, or Ama were willing to act out of line under the gentle gaze of their father, and so all three sat sulkily and well-scrubbed at the table, hands clenched in front of them. Ama had mainly agreed to come to the dinner because Ira was making her favorite mixed berry pie, and because the drama she suspected was about to unfurl was too great a temptation.

Moth cleaned and set the table, helping where she could, and hovering around the door to receive the guests. Ursula poked her head around the corner, “Are they here yet?”

“No.”

“Alright good. What do you think?” Ursula came out from the parlor, wearing a cobalt blue dress. The fitted seams showed off her slender body, making her seem ever smaller than she was – she was already two inches shorter than Moth.

“Oh, its gorgeous!” Moth went up and looked at the subtle, embroidered magpies on the collar. “Ursie, you made this?”

Ursula flicked her hair back. “Ordered the fabric months ago. I have a little left over, I should make you a vest.”

Most of Moth’s clothes were made by Ursula, and they fit her like ivy around a tree, but the dress Ursula wore was her best work yet.

Moth felt strange – a dreamlike sensation – watching Ursula twirl and show off the full skirt; it seemed as though she really didn’t belong in Hiren. She had always thought everything she loved should stay in the same place, but now she wasn’t sure.

Perhaps she needs to go, Moth thought. Tears began to burn her eyes and she said, “You’re so beautiful, Ursula.”

“Oh don’t cry about it, Mere,” Ursula exclaimed, her own eyes beginning to mist. “When you cry it makes me cry! Stop!”

Hastily wiping her face, Moth said, “I promise I’m going to be kind to Brohm – and I’ll encourage the others to be tolerant of him.”

Ursula smiled – it was smug and infectious – and she said, “I knew you’d be on my side, Mere. You always were, even when you were a baby.”

Rolling her eyes, Moth shoved her away.

There was a knock on the door. Ursula smoothed her dress and fixed her hair and Moth hurried to open the door.

Feldar stood outside, holding a bouquet of flowers.

Moth pressed her lips together. “Oh.”

Ursula looked around Moth’s elbow and said, “Hey there, Feldar. Come in.”

Feldar handed the flowers to Ursula and said, “Congratulations on your engagement to a rich man.”

“Thanks, it took me a minute. Everyone here is so poor – especially you, now that your farm burned down – it was hard waiting for so long.” Ursula took the flowers. “These are so ugly, you could’ve done better.”

“Thats’s why they suit you,” said Feldar, brushing past. “Is Patri here yet?”

“She’s in the parlor.”

Felder glanced back at Moth and then at Ursula. “Are you sure you’re related?” He went into the parlor.

Moth clenched her fists and Ursula laughed, “Do you not like Feldar?”

“I want to hit him.”

“Baby you couldn’t punch a bag of flour. Now, why don’t you like him? Once you get to know him you realize he’s a pest, and it’s so delightful to make fun of him.”

“What I don’t understand is why Grandpa likes him.”

There was another knock on the door and Ursula jumped back to casually lean against the wall while Moth opened the door.

Brohm Ede stood on the front step, smelling of brass polish and cologne, and when he saw Ursula he hurried forward and took her hand, smiling and murmuring to her as she giggled.

Trailing behind him was a tall, lanky man, with long limbs and a bony face. His eyes were bloodshot with purple bags under them., and he carried a bottle of wine that he held up. “For the happy couple,” he said, yawning.

He was also a lieutenant in the agricultural sentries, as he wore an ornate capelet – but his was shabby and not kept as pristine as Brohm’s.

Moth stared at him. He looked so familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him before – perhaps a sentry she had seen roaming about. She reached out to

shake his hand, and even the touch felt familiar, and she burst out, “Have we met before?”

The man eyed her, but shook his head, “Not in my lifetime.”

Norwin emerged from the backroom to receive the guests, very calmly greeting Brohm and shaking his hand, and then turning to meet the other lieutenant before he froze. “Are…” Norwin began, staring at the man, “Are you Lt. Ede’s friend?”

He nodded, and shook his hand. “I’m Lt. Guyrede Rill. You must be my Uncle Norwin.”

Norwin rubbed his beard, saying breathlessly. “How is Albara?”

“She’s in good health – mad at me for moving to Hiren, but in good health.”

Brohm gestured to Guyrede, hissing, “I’m going to meet her awful brothers and I need you to come with me.”

Guyrede nodded to Norwin and strolled after Brohm, fighting back another yawn, and opening the bottle of wine as he went.

“Dad?” Moth said, as Norwin leaned his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed.

Norwin looked at her and then back towards Guyrede, “He looks exactly like dad did when he was that age. I–” he gave a chuckle, though he seemed shaken. “I’m sorry. When I saw him walk in with that bottle of wine…well I felt like I was five years old again, and those won’t the happiest years of my life.”

Moth wrapped her arms around him and said, “Do you want me to get mom?”

“I’ll be fine, just took me by surprise.” Already he was becoming calm, and he returned to being the unchanging rock Moth had always known.

It had not occurred to her until just then, that perhaps he had not always been so unchanging, but had to grow into it. Moth kissed his cheek and said, “Let’s start dinner.”

He nodded and they entered the dining room together.

Norwin went to sit at the head of the table, and Moth looked over and found the only seat left was between Feldar and Guyrede. She considered moving the chair to the corner, but she knew it would be noticed, so she reluctantly slid into her seat and glowered across the table at Ama, who was trapped between Brohm and Patri and was giving Moth a distressed look.

Ira and Nehem served everyone, sending down plates and bowls of food, as a polite murmur of conversation filled the room.

Moth glanced over at Feldar, who returned her look with raised eyebrows. She swiveled in her chair to address Guyrede, “You’re from Tanwuce, right?”

“Correct, it’s awful there,” he said, pouring himself more wine. “Really wretched. Whole place reeks of manure – cattle region, you know – and seeing their bodies all petrified by fog was just horrible. Meat was cheap but you didn’t want to risk why, eh.” He leaned over and poured Moth some wine as well, shaking his head, “You’re my cousin, right? Most everyone else, too?”

“Yes, here,” Moth pointed to her siblings one by one and naming them, “Those are all you cousins. My sister Priscilla is home because, um, she’s pregnant.”

“Seven of you?” he said, eyes narrowed. “Mother never informed me how many I had. I’m an only child.”

“Oh?” Moth smiled. “What’s that like?”

“No one else for father to beat,” he said.

Moth stared at him in alarm, and he chuckled.

“Just kidding. Oh dear, you look sad. You must forgive me, I had not realized that this company is too polite for my guard humor – sorry, sentry humor.”

Clearing her throat and taking a sip of the wine, Moth said, “Do you enjoy sentry work?”

“I don’t enjoy work at all, in any shape. Sentry work is wonderful because there is so little to do but the burns. The worst part is the farming.”

“The farming?”

Leaning forward in his chair, he jiggled his glass as Ursula poured everyone some mulberry wine, and held it there until Ursula had filled it to the brim. He took a long drink and muttered to himself, “I do like how strong country wine is.” He then turned and said to Moth, “When they promote you, they give you some property and they demand you farm it. If you don’t produce a decent yield, you can get in trouble with the kack.”

“The…?”

“The kack – the KCAC. It’s not bad for me, I grew up farming in Tanwuce – climates a touch different but there’s a lot similar. I just didn’t become a guard to farm, you know, I became a guard to get away from living in dirt forever – this is really, very good wine.”

Moth slid him her glass of mulberry wine, and her previous untouched glass of wine from his bottle, and said, “You were saying? About farming?”

“So generous, thank you, thank you. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, those bastards are making me farm. Being a dirt guard is awful, they demoted me for being lax in my duties as a guardsman in Tanwuce – which was not my fault that murder would’ve happened regardless of my intoxicated state – and now I’m in Hiren tilling turnips.” He rubbed his face, the bags under his eyes getting more purple with each sip he took. “God I hate being alive. Thanks for inviting me here.”

Moth felt Feldar move beside her. He leaned across her, looking at Guyrede with a flat smile, “You’ve been farming?”

Guyrede eyed Feldar but nodded. “Its good land – but that’s like saying its good iron when it’s a dagger in your back.”

“Where?”

“The farm?” Guyrede nodding his head at the east wall. “Straight shot of a few miles, by Barrowly Creek.”

Feldar’s cat-like eyes were bright. “Big stone house? Green shutters?”

“Why?” Guyrede tilted his head, a hard smile stretching his face. His voice lowered and he asked, “Was it yours?”

Moth opened her mouth – searching for some topic to break the tension – when voices on the other end of the table began getting louder. She looked over to see Japh and Brohm in a heated argument, both raising from their seats, with Patri smirking at Brohm and Ursula tugging on his sleeve to make him sit back down.

“The impositions keep the citygoers safe from polluted produce!” said Brohm, jabbing his finger in Japh’s face. “Have you not read the science journals?”

“The KCAC is bartering away farmers land as little treats to useless sentries. That property is co dalmede! The government does not get to own it!”

Sneering, Brohm said, “Well you must be fine with it since you’re teaching sentries how to farm.”

Japh’s jaw set as he looked back at Clem and Norwin. “I’m not,” he said.

“Co dalmede is folklore to evade taxes,” said Guyrede.

“Sentries are a made-up job to gather the least useful members of a guard,” replied Japh, and Guyrede pursed his mouth and gave a small nod of agreement.

Clem held up his hands and the room quieted. Leaning on his son, he shakily stood up and said to the table, “Thank you for coming to this dinner. I should like farmers and sentries be able to live side by side, to look forward to the future and the wellbeing of our nation – to consider that no one likes to be hungry, and no one should have to endure that suffering. Ursula?”

“Yes?” she said weakly, glancing around.

“When do you want to marry Brohm?”

“Well,” she managed, clearing her throat. “Soon?”

“A month from now, then – we’ll start the preparations. Brohm, put in your request to transition to the city guard when you get back tonight.”

“Yes sir.”

“As this dinner can no longer commence civilly,” said Norwin, looking at his children, “I must ask everyone to return to their homes. Guyrede, thank you so much for visiting us, I’m sorry it wasn’t what it should’ve been.”

“Cheers to that,” said Guyrede, stumbling up and slinging back the rest of his drink. “Brohm, my friend, I need your help.”

Brohm muttered and hurried to his side, supporting him, “How are you this washed already?”

“Would you like a ride home?” asked Feldar. “I know the way to your house, Lt. Rill.”

Guyrede waved him away. “I intend to die drunk in my bed – ideally – not at the hands of a tinner, thanks all the same.”

“Feldar,” said Norwin, and Feldar raised his eyebrows. “I need you to go home, now. This is not a conversation.”

Feldar hesitated, considered his options, and said, “Yes sir,” and left the home.

“I will see you two home safely,” said Norwin, rubbing his chin and helping Brohm with Guyrede. “We’ll put my nephew in the back of the cart.”