Marie's Journey (Ginecean Chronicles) (2 page)

“Yes, Redfarm uses workers for the harder tasks.” Verena came closer and looked down.

“Aren’t you scared?” Marie gave another look. Two men were carrying a heavy-looking plank of wood. She could see their strained muscles and the sweat glistening on their naked arms.

“They’re confined in their quarters in a separate wing and normally never work so close to the main building, but at the carpentry. Madame Lana has everybody on pins and needles because of tonight’s dinner. She ordered a gazebo built in one day and that’s why the workers are here. There.” Verena pointed at a white structure at the other end of the courtyard. “See? The place must be cleared before the dinner starts. Captain Callista imported guards from a nearby farm to help keep the men under control.”

Marie shivered. “You never know with workers. That’s why Madame Carla’s so protective. The Institute is sandwiched between the two firework factories and they are always full of men.” Another shiver ran down her spine, yet she kept looking. The two workers were almost out of her line of sight when one of them, the one with the lighter skin, looked up. For a moment, despite the physical distance separating the ground floor from her window, she thought their eyes locked.

“Come. I’ll show you where the bathrooms are.”

Marie was startled by Verena’s words. She hadn’t realized the girl had moved to the other side of the room. She was about to move, but on impulse, looked down. The men were gone.

“Coming?”

“Yes, right away.” Marie closed the curtain, her eyes fleetingly going to the courtyard one last time. She shook her head.

“Something wrong?”

“No, just tired.” Marie followed Verena into the hallway and soon realized she better memorize the route to the bathrooms. The apprentices’ wing was a giant indoor maze. There were so many twists and turns it was impossible to remember which way to go.

“Don’t worry. You won’t get lost.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“I probably wore the same expression on my face the first time I was shown around.” Verena finally slowed down. “Those are our bathrooms.” She turned around and indicated a second door. “And those are the elders’ bathrooms. Never, ever, use the elders’ bathrooms. They can be mean.”

“Noted. Elders are mean everywhere. But back at the Institute, we didn’t have enough space to separate dormitories and bathrooms, so the elders had to share the place with us. At least here, we have our bathrooms. There, we had to ask permission for every single thing.”

“You had to ask permission to use the bathroom?”

“Of course.” Marie shrugged at the recent memories. Idra had saved her from the ire of an elder more than once. “When I’m an elder, I’ll never be like them.” A promise she had worded every time Idra had to rescue her. Idra.
What are you doing now?
Dinnertime at the Institute had already come and gone.
Are you singing by the fire with Joanna and Marcia?
They had sung every time one of their friends had left the Institute to work or to learn a profession somewhere else.
Are you singing for me? Do you miss me already?
Marie had been so excited to leave the Institute she hadn’t realized she was indeed leaving it for good.

“I never thought bathrooms could get people so emotional.” Verena laughed.

Marie got a glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw her eyes were liquid and a tear hung to her eyelashes. “The separate stalls undid me.”

“Do you want to refresh a bit? We still have time to eat.”

Marie nodded, already longing for the big shower at the end of the room. A low growl coming from her stomach forced her to reassess her priorities. “It sounds great, but I’m too hungry. I need to eat something or I’ll faint.”

“Washing is overrated, anyway.” Verena led the way down to the kitchens.

Marie noticed the big windows opening onto the stairs and illuminating the whitewashed walls with the calming tones of the early evening colors. She risked a look outside without daring to lean closer. Samara’s dark rooftops filled the frames. The urge of looking down at the backyard was strong, but one sideways glance from Verena and she steered away from the windows.

“Samara is a nice city. I’ll show you around as soon as we’ve the first day free.”

“Looking forward to that.” Roaming without adult supervision was one of the reasons she had wanted this job, but now the thought was bittersweet. They had reached the first floor when a sudden commotion commanded her attention to the world outside the immaculate panes of the windows. A whirl of colors went from one corner to the other of the glass frame. The sound of an angry whistle reached inside along with the sharp crack of a whip hitting the concrete floor. Marie was startled when a moment later, several women passed them and went outside through a door at the end of the stairs. One of them pushed Marie out of the way without as much as a “pardon me.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t mind those Elders. They’re training to impress Captain Callista and get a shot at entering the Priestess’s Army.”

“Oh, they are? But they aren’t pure breeds, are they?” As far as she remembered, only the captain would be a pure breed.

“No, of course not. They wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“So how does it work?”

“The Army is only served by women.”

“So they aspire to be the soldiers’ maids?”

“Yes, but between you and me, none of them are good enough. Most likely, they’ll end up serving farm guards as their maids. But they like to pose as if they’re big shots.”

“Where’re they going?” Marie flattened against the wall as two latecomers ran down the stairs to reach the other army wannabes.

“To help outside with the men. But everything is already under control.” Verena went to the window and pointed out.

Marie came close and tried to look uninterested.

“See? As I told you, no need for those idiots to make such a fuss.” Verena turned and descended the last three steps, leaving Marie behind.

Marie lingered a moment and felt slightly disappointed there wasn’t anything to see—just an empty courtyard and a lovely gazebo where several girls were now hanging delicate flower garlands. She followed Verena to the kitchen and remembered she was ravenous only when the smell of roasted meat wafted into the hallway and her stomach ached.

Later that night, she went to sleep with the unsettling feeling she didn’t want to spend any time in a room with only one other person. It was wrong. She fell asleep and woke in the first hours of the morning, the sun slowly rising over Samara, its rays glinting off the sleek dark tiles covering the roofs in symmetric rows. It had rained again during the night and the city looked cleaner from her vantage point. She tiptoed to the bathroom, had the shower she hadn’t taken earlier, then headed downstairs to eat breakfast. She was surprised to see nobody around. At the Institute, Madame Carla had taught the girls that sleeping late denoted lack of morals. Evidently, as stern as Madame Lana looked, her vision of what made a young girl a better human being didn’t encompass her sleeping habits.
Maybe I’ll like it here after all
.

Alone, she took the luxury of looking outside the windows on the stairs as long as she wanted. The men were cleaning the courtyard. The dinner must have ended late because the decorative lanterns hanging from the gazebo’s posts were still burning. She stood, unable to move. She was both repulsed and attracted by the sight of so many men gathered in such a close space. One of them turned and looked in her direction. Theirs eyes met and she had the unsettling feeling he was the same man she had seen the day before. Marie was shocked she might have looked at a man long enough to recognize him, and even more shocked he didn’t attempt to lower his head. Even though she was inside the building and he outside, the worker should’ve shown more respect and averted his green eyes as soon as she had looked at him. She raised her chin and stared down at him, but the man didn’t seem affected by her display of power. Steps echoed in the deserted staircase, and she looked away for a moment, her heart beating loudly against her ribcage. When the person stopped at the second floor instead of descending toward her, Marie dared to look outside one more time, only to find the man staring back at her with a grin on his face. She ran away, reaching the kitchen in no time.

She knew a day of menial tasks awaited her, but when Carnia entered the kitchen a full two hours later to give her the chores list, Marie almost smiled. She was craving human contact.

“Did you sleep well?” Carnia asked, waving the list like a flag.

“Never better.” She took the already crumpled piece of paper from Carnia’s outstretched hand and gave a look at the items written in neat handwriting. “More potatoes in my future. Great.”

“And don’t forget to replenish the pantry when you’re done peeling the ones inside the barrel.”

At least I get to walk a bit
, Marie thought after Carnia explained where the fresh vegetables where kept. Not that going back and forth from the cellars was worth celebrating, but it sure beat sitting the whole day on a three-legged stool. She gave the list another look and sighed.
This is not what I thought it would be.
She busied herself with her second meal of the day. She had woken so early she was hungry again, but it was a nervous hunger, an ache that didn’t start from her stomach, but from her chest and left her lightheaded. She wolfed down two pancakes, then went to take her place by the corner where the potatoes were waiting for her.

When a pile of potato peelings reached as high as the now-empty bucket, she was grateful for the opportunity to leave the kitchen if only to run an errand. “Where are the cellars?” she asked the first person she saw. The room had populated while she was going through the whole barrel. She had noticed the hustle, but the helpers were so quiet it was unnatural. Not a laugh, not a word of gossip to be heard, just the clicking of the copper potteries and the stirring of spoons against ceramic surfaces. And the pleasant smell of fresh-baked bread and pastries.

“First door on the right, two floors down, follow the corridor.” A small girl, no older than Marie, answered her question, barely raising her head from the stove where she was preparing what looked like egg cream custard. “Remember, two floors down, not one or you’ll risk interrupting Captain Callista’s training sessions. And you don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that,” Marie repeated, bringing her index and middle finger together to her forehead to give the girl a mock salute. “Thanks.” She left the kitchen in a breeze and descended the flight of stairs, taking longer than necessary, anything to delay going back to that room. She reached the corridor with a heavy heart, thinking she felt less alone down there, where there was nobody, than in that kitchen full of silent, busy people. The cellar door was an imposing, scary piece of dark wood carved with a décor that must have at one time been nice, but was now faded and mutilated. She pushed the wood and it creaked on its hinges. Darkness engulfed her, and a slight sense of panic pressed on her chest. “I am not afraid of dark.” Following the usual mantra, she breathed in and out while her right hand probed the wall by the door, looking for a switch. Muffled voices filtered through the walls and echoed inside the place. Her heart jumped.

“Who’s there?” The voices—male voices, she realized—didn’t stop talking. Her fingers touched the switch and the cellar was illuminated in a crude, too-bright, white light. She shielded her eyes for a moment, then looked around. The place was empty. The workers were in the adjacent room.

She should’ve run away anyway. Instead, she followed the sound and walked toward the farthest wall at the end of the cellar, but lost them somewhere in the middle of the walk. The opulent sight of the cellar’s bounty stole her attention. Shelves full of fruits and vegetables, cheeses, meat in various stages of being cured, and bottles of wine lined the walls. The place was stocked with food, more than she’d ever seen in one place. At the Institute, girls never went hungry, but portions were rationed and desserts were reserved for special occasions. Madame Carla ate the same diet as her pupils, which had probably contributed to her slender figure. For a moment, Marie was tempted to hide a piece of marzipan under her shirt and feast on it later. She reached out to the closer shelf where she had spotted the treat, thrilled by her daring, when a sudden noise startled her. Her outstretched fingers froze in midair.

“Don’t do it!” a deep, male voice commanded.

“I bet your dinner you won’t do it,” a second voice said. A younger man.

“And what if I do?” Another male voice, as young as the first.

Marie’s head snapped to the right where the voices sounded clearer and closer. The men were on the other side of the cellar’s wall. She thought she should’ve run back to the safety of the silent kitchen and yet again, she didn’t move.

“I’ll do it.” A soft, scratching noise accompanied the statement.

Marie looked at the spot in the wall, and a breath caught in her chest. A few moments later, a brick was removed and it disappeared on the other side. Before a second brick could follow the first, she lunged toward one of the shelves standing in the middle of the room and crouched behind two big sacks packed with flour. Several bricks were dislodged until a rectangle opened on the darkness of the other side.

“Told you. You owe me your meal tonight.” A head covered in dark-blond hair pushed through the opening, but didn’t make it far. “Still too small.” The head moved back and other bricks were removed. Not a minute later, a young man entered the room by lifting his body up and away from the freshly made window. He reached the floor with a small jump, both feet firmly on the ground, knees slightly bent.

It’s him!
Marie couldn’t believe her eyes. The green-eyed man who had been staring at her had just trespassed into the cellar.

“Don’t waste time. Take what you can and come back here.” An older man appeared at the window, his face and shoulders leaning inside the cellar while he took a good look at the place. “Take this and move.”

“God above! This place is stocked.” The blond took the bag the man offered him and went to the shelf by the opening. “We starve to death and here there’s enough food to feed the whole Priestess’s Army.” He grabbed fruits and vegetables and stuffed the bag with them. “Another one,” he said to the man, passing him the bag.