D Cornish - Foundling

Madam Felicitine did not appear to know how to answer such cool and obstinate certainty as she found in Europe. Suddenly rendered powerless in her own wayhouse, she quit the room with a great shower of tears and a great show of wailing.

Mumbling incoherent apologies, Billetus hurried after her, closing the dark door as he left.

Gretel and the skold looked at each other awkwardly, and then the bower maid busied herself by moving about the room lighting candles against the growing dark.

Doctor Verhooverhoven stood and stared at the floor impassively.

The skold looked from him to the bed and back, then behind her at the door. "I–I… I am s-s-sorry if I have d-done s-s-something to offend, Duh-Doctor Hoo-over-hoven," she offered, appearing truly troubled.

This roused the good physician. "Not at all, not at all, girl.You were only answering to my call-and fair enough at that. Let us think no more on what has just passed-this lady needs your aid."

A look of great relief lit up her face. "A-Absolutely, yes, let's.You know I'll always he-elp as b-best I c… can."

"And a great commendation it is to you too, my dear." The physician smiled grimly.

Rossamund was at Europe's bedside in a dash, full of hopeful concern.

She looked at him placidly, her red eyes ghastly within the oval of her sickly face. "Hello, little man… Have I been away for long?"

"Since last night… um, very early this morning." Rossamund's voice quavered slightly in his eagerness.

The fulgar closed her eyes. "So we made it to the wayhouse, then?… Am I all delirium or are my senses turning hard rocks and sharp pinecones into a soft, warm bed?"

"Aye, aye, we made it here, ma'am, and the kind people helped us."

Europe chuckled weakly. "I'm sure they did-except maybe that screeching woman. Tell me now, how much has this help cost?"

The boy's face fell. He had not thought of it quite like that: that they were ready with assistance only as he was ready to pay. "Ah, twelve sequins for two nights."

Her chuckle grew louder, but that stopped with a soft gasp. "And you paid from my purse?"

"No, ma'am." Rossamund puffed his chest just a little. "I paid with the Emperor's Billion, which was given me to start work as a lamplighter."

"An Emperor's Man, are we? Good for you. How interesting…" She seemed to fade for a moment, then shuddered. "I am sick, Rossamund. I must have my treacle and very soon.You'll have to make it for me again…"

While they had talked so, Doctor Verhooverhoven stood by, rocking on his heels once more. Now he came in quickly. "And you shall have it, madam. Here I am, the local physician, Doctor Verhooverhoven-how do you do? — and here is the delightful Miss Sallow, our own skold, who can make you your plaudamentum. Am I right, dear?" The physician turned his attention to the skold, who stepped forward, obviously in awe of the fulgar now invalid in the bed before her.

"W-why yes. I n-know all the k… kinds of drafts n… needed by l-lahzars. A g-good ssskold all-lways does."

The fulgar turned her mizzled attention to them both and squinted. "Ah, mister physician, you've got me a skold-how kind. Such… tender mercies, I thank you. However, the boy could have made it for me, sir. He's much cleverer than he looks."

Ducking his head, Rossamund did not know whether to be pleased or offended.

"I am sure he is and more, dear lady, but I would prefer to trust to my own methods and know it's done as well as I know it can be done." Doctor Verhooverhoven nodded his head in agreement with his own statement.

"However you want it. I'll not argue with a man of physics."

"As it should be, madam." He smiled ingratiatingly. "I shall recommend a soporific be brought to you as well, to help you sleep. Take both this and the plaudamentum and then heal with that most ancient of cures-rest."

Europe closed her eyes, a knowing grin upon her lips. "And tell me, dear doctor. At what price does your warm concern come?"

Rossamund could not be certain, but it seemed that Doctor Verhooverhoven actually blushed. "You do me a disservice, madam. I seek to help you purely for the satisfaction of knowing another human creature is strolling easy once more upon the path of health."

"Certainly you do, sir," Europe softly sighed, "and what will be the account waiting for me upon my departure? We all have to put food in stomachs and clothes on our backs-I'll not begrudge you your pay."

"Two sequins pays for it all," the physician relented.

Europe raised an eyebrow.

Rossamund thought her still very sharp and feisty for one so very ill.

Doctor Verhooverhoven quickly went on. "But enough of this unflattering talk of fiscal things-you must be easy now, and have your draft when it's done."

Rossamund found that disturbing black lacquer case-the treacle-box-poking from a saddlebag at the bottom of the cupboard. Once again it gave him dread chills as he fetched it out. He took it over to Europe, who roused herself and smiled weakly.

She looked to Sallow, who blushed brightly from ear to ear. "Let this little man help you, skold. I trust him."

The fulgar gave Rossamund a strange and haunted look. "He's my new… factotum…" she finished almost in a whisper.

The foundling was stunned-her new factotum? Where did that leave him with the lamplighters?

Doctor Verhooverhoven gave a slight bow. "As it shall be, ma'am. Take your ease.Your drafts shall be ready presently." He raised his arms in a broad gesture to the skold and the foundling. "Come! Sallow. Young sir. Off to the kitchens now and do your duty. Gretel will show you the way. Tell Closet that I have sent you."

With a small bright-limn in her hand, the bower maid opened the door and curtsied to them, giving a grin. "I'll take you to the kitchens, just as the physic ordered." She stepped lightly into the hall and the skold went with her.

Rossamund gave Europe a last look and followed, a welcome calm settling inside-things were going to turn out well. Still, his thinking turned upon two questions as he followed the bower maid and the skold down the dim hall: How am I going to be able to be Europe's factotum and lamplighter too? and Where are my shoes?

Gretel took them through a door, down another passage and through another door. Stepping alongside Sallow, Rossamund became aware that she was surrounded with some very unpleasant smells and sensations. In combination with the treacle-box, these made him feel distinctly queasy.

"Hello," the skold said softly with a shy smile. "M-my name is Sssallow Meh-Meermoon. What's yours?"

"Rossamund," he replied. She must be kind of important, to have two names. As always, he was half waiting for a strange reaction to his own.

"My, R-Rossamund, it mmmust be am-mazing to be the f-factotum of the B-Branden Rose!"

She had not reacted. He liked her. Pity she smells so badly. "It must be amazing to be a skold," he returned.

"Ooh, I w-wish it were." Sallow sounded deeply troubled.

Rossamund looked up at her sad face.

"I only j-just got back from th-the r-r-rhombus in Worms a m-month aa-go," she went on rapidly. "Three years I was th-there, learning the E-Elements and the Su-Sub-Elements, the Parts, potential nostrum, all the ss-scripts, all the buh-Bases and the Combinations, the kuh-Kornchenflecter, the F-Four S-Spheres and the fuh-Four Humours, Applications of the V–Vade kuh-Chemica, mmmatter and ha-abilistics. Oh m-my, what a l-lot to n-know."