Calia's Needle, page 22
When she'd first seen the cartoons of the Farren Vale, Calia remembered thinking that Ana's art was ostentatious. That was certainly true, and while it was not Calia's preferred style, the more she looked at the drawings, the more she came to appreciate the craft that had gone into them. Ana's art had a way of downplaying the mundane and drawing attention to the fantastical. The sheet in front of her bore a sketch of a woman casting a ribbon from her bedroom window into the hand of a knight riding off to battle. The moment was exquisitely captured. Calia's eyes were not drawn to the knight's horse, his armour, or the scene around them that subtly hinted at an entourage of men preparing for war. It was the ribbon that dominated the sketch. It coiled in impossible loops, swirling close to the viewer and then far away, delicately shaded with dark and light so that it looked like it was flashing in the sun. The hands of the man and woman clutching it at either end were rendered in fine lines that expressed a desperate, grasping need. Every part of the sketch portrayed what it needed to without distracting from the coils of ribbon that drew the viewer's eye inward to the centre. It was masterful. Calia felt like a novice when she thought about the painstaking consideration that must have gone into Ana's craft.
“I can see why the queen picked you for the Farren Vale. This is breathtaking.”
“It's just a sketch,” Ana said dismissively, taking the sheet from her and tossing it onto a pile of similar drawings.
“But it's wonderful.”
“You don't improve by being self-congratulatory.”
“You deserve to feel proud of what you've accomplished.”
Ana's fingers hovered over the next sheet, hesitating before she picked it up. “Is that what your mentor taught you?”
“Old Milly, yes. Whenever I sewed something good enough for her to sell, she'd give me a silver penny at the end of the week. It always made me want to sew something even better next time.”
“Vesna threw my sketches on the fire if they weren't good enough.”
Calia shifted uncomfortably in her seat and tried to think of a way to change the subject. She'd been trying her best to avoid mentioning Vesna this past week. Ana became defensive when the topic came up, attempting to excuse or justify her mother's actions when Calia criticised them. The problem of Vesna couldn't be solved by attacking it head-on.
“I don't suppose you'd consider doing a sketch for me?”
Ana raised her eyebrows. “Of what?”
“The old Farren Vale. Or what you remember of it, at least. It would be easier to have a smaller cartoon to work from when I get back to my tapestry so we don't have to keep getting the big panels down. I haven't been able to look at the ones the other weavers are working from at all.”
“I thought you didn't like working from cartoons. You didn't follow mine properly.”
“I did,” Calia protested, “I just changed some of the details. Remember those angels?”
“You turned them into something completely different.”
“But the queen liked them, didn't she? They were still your idea. I just changed them into something I thought looked better in thread.”
Ana dragged over a stack of parchment and leafed through it until she drew out a large sheet almost a yard wide.
Calia's eyes widened. It was the old Farren Vale. Not precisely–the charcoal was smudged and the lines were rough, obviously a quick sketch–but it had captured all the relevant details including an approximation of the branch border along the top edge.
“I drew it after we discovered the old tapestry,” Ana said. “I planned on starting a proper painting when I had time.”
“This is perfect!”
“It's a mess. I'll have it cleaned up on a fresh sheet of parchment by the time your hand's better.” Hastily, she added: “Consider it your payment for helping me go through these.”
“That's very kind of you. It'll make finishing my tapestry so much easier.”
Ana frowned, perhaps wondering what her mother would say when she learned she was helping her greatest rival.
Calia said: “Now when the queen visits, we can tell her that both of her Farren Vales have your touch on them.”
That seemed to placate Ana. She gave Calia a thin smile and went back to sorting.
“I don't know what you're hoping to achieve with her,” Lucy told Calia a few days later. They were sitting up in bed together, Lucy embroidering a cap for Lord Oswin by candlelight while Calia nursed a cup of warm wine in her good hand. She'd slept on the floor when she first arrived, but now that the chill of autumn was pressing in she was happy to share the warmth of her friend's blankets.
“She's not a monster. I'm sure it's all Vesna's doing, the way she behaves.”
“Vesna might be a wicked old bitch, but Ana makes her own decisions. She's not worth your time.”
“Well, even if she isn't, Karaline is. I want her to have a chance to find some happiness in life. God knows Vesna isn't going to give it to her, but I think Ana will.”
“I'm telling you, it's a lost cause. I tried being nice to that woman when she arrived and it didn't get me anywhere. The harder you try and change her mind about something, the more she digs in her heels.”
Calia wriggled down beneath the blanket, resting the warm mug on her belly. “I know. I've given up trying to argue with her about Vesna.”
“Then what's your plan?”
“What changes your mind about things, Lucy? I mean, what really changes it? Not when someone browbeats you, but when you get there on your own?”
Lucy shrugged. “I suppose if an idea makes sense, and if I respect whoever put it to me, then I'm willing to reconsider things.”
“That's what I think, too. And the people I respect are the people I like. All the folk I've learned the most from are the ones I admire.”
“So that's your plan, is it? Trick Ana into liking you so she does the right thing?”
“Don't tease. You were right about the two of us. We do have a lot in common. We spent all evening talking about her drawings the other day. Our styles are so different, but I think that's what makes it so interesting. We don't agree, but we can each see where the other is coming from. I like her art, and I think she likes mine, too.” She let out a sleepy sigh. “Maybe if she starts to think of me as a friend, she'll see that things don't always have to be the way Vesna taught her.”
“You're a nobler soul than I.”
“Am I? You don't think I'm being foolish?”
Lucy smiled and shook her head. “You're being you.”
“Is that good?”
“Well, it's good enough for me.”
As the days grew shorter and the weather colder, Calia's opportunities to go walking with Karaline grew fewer and farther between. When the clouds finally parted after a long week of rain, the girl pleaded with her to go out on a trek.
“It's too late,” Calia said. “I have to get back to the manor soon, and you need to have your supper.”
“Please? Who knows when the sun will come out again.”
Anastasia's voice drifted into the parlour from the adjacent bedroom: “We could have supper outside. Take a picnic up to the castle. It might be our last chance to watch a good sunset this year.”
“Yes please!”
“Alright,” Calia conceded. “I'll ask Sara for a basket.”
Ana came through to the parlour. She'd been spending more time at the Goldsmiths' lately, using the bedroom as her studio when she wasn't at Ashmount House.
“Will you be coming with us?” she asked Calia.
“If you'll have me, I'd be happy to.”
Ana gave her a brisk nod. “I'll take care of that basket. You get your things and make sure Kara's ready.”
They set out for the top of the hill half an hour later. The ground was still damp, but the gritty path gave them firm footing, and the sinking sun had painted a beautiful rainbow through the distant clouds.
“What are rainbows?” Karaline asked.
Calia shielded her eyes to gaze across the valley. “My nana always told me they were forest faeries waking up when the sun came out.”
“That's nonsense,” Ana said chidingly. “It's the sun shining through distant rain.”
“How does that work?”
“I saw a monk give a scientific demonstration at the capital once. He used mirrors to focus a beam of sunlight through a crystal chalice filled with water. When he rotated the chalice, it created different patterns on the table. Some of them were the same colour as a rainbow. Then he filled a bladder with water and sprayed it through the beam in fine droplets, and I saw a rainbow appear right there in the room.”
It sounded to Calia like the miracles priests described in sermons.
“Can only monks do that?”
“No. It's not a blessing from God. Water has a way of putting colour into light when it shines through it.”
“Maybe sunlight is supposed to be rainbow-coloured,” Karaline said. “But it's all dried out and yellow, like grass after a long summer. So when it gets watered, it goes back to being colourful again.”
Ana scoffed in amusement.
“Maybe so,” said Calia. “That's a very clever idea.”
Karaline beamed and squeezed her new felt doll, appropriately named Blue after its colouring. She was a creatively-minded girl. It was a talent she shared with her sister, even if she wasn't as gifted of an artist. She would make a good tailor. Sewing charming dolls and unique dresses would come easily to her. The more Karaline felt able to express herself, the more she came out of her shell.
They walked through the old castle gates and Kara hurried off to find them a place to sit. Calia knocked on the gatehouse door to check on Huw, but he seemed to be out that evening. They crossed the courtyard and went through a gap in the crumbling south wall. A broad, flat piece of masonry had fallen there, its surface dry and warm from the fading sunlight. After setting down a blanket, the three of them perched on the edge to have their supper. The rainbow stretched over the vale in the distance, fading into the misty clouds as the sun went down.
“I'll never get tired of this view,” Calia said as Ana poured them cups of sage water.
“Me neither. I could paint it a hundred different ways.”
“Do you think you might stay in Ashmount after the tapestry's done?”
Ana shook her head. “We have to return to the capital.”
“We've got a house there,” Kara said gloomily.
“If you like nice views, perhaps you could come and visit my family one day. My mother has an inn in Tannersfield.”
“I thought Tannersfield was flat and covered in forests?” Ana said.
“The part where most people live is, but there are lots of old hills in the north. They go up for miles and miles. Just about anywhere you stand, you can look down and see half the county spread out before you.”
“Hm.” Ana handed everyone a small loaf of bread and took out her knife to cut some thick slices of ham and cheese. Karaline showed Calia how to tear the end off her loaf and hollow out the doughy inside so she had a crusty pocket for her food. They watched the rainbow fade as they ate, Calia and Karaline doing most of the talking. Ana wasn't a very chatty woman. When she spoke, it was usually about serious, practical, or intellectual matters. She didn't seem to be one for idle gossip. Yet quiet though she was, she looked as content as Calia had ever seen her that evening, her copper hair drifting about her face as she stared into the middle distance sipping at her sage water. Did she have the soul of a romantic buried in there somewhere? The kind of soul that longed to wander ethereal moors, share quiet summer picnics with her friends, and muse on the scent of the wind and the sound of the rain?
Calia was that sort of person. She shied away from places like the capital where everything would be busy like a marketplace, the streets cramped and smelly, all the green of the world smothered out by shingled roofs and plastered walls. She didn't want Ana and Kara to go back there. It was obvious neither of them were looking forward to it.
They finished their meal with some fresh grapes. Anastasia always made sure to keep a bowlful on the parlour table when they were in season. The farmers in Ashmount cultivated a plump, sweet variety that Calia had never tasted before, quite different from the strong-tasting grapes she'd once pilfered from the nuns' vineyard when she was little. She and Karaline tried to see who could spit their seeds the furthest, the pair of them giggling at the chance to do something so unladylike in private. Ana ate all of her seeds, crunching them down along with the grapes.
A few other people were wandering the castle ruins that evening, but they had all been on the other side of the wall when they arrived. Now, as they finished up their meal, a group of teenagers came around the wall and approached them. Most were boys, but there were a couple of girls with them, one of whom glared at Calia when she saw her. She whispered something to a lad beside her, and he grinned and nodded. He swaggered forward with his hand resting on the head of a hammer that he wore like a sword at his belt.
“We always have this spot.”
Calia offered him a companionable smile. “We're just finishing our supper. We shan't be long.”
“Then you can be off right away.”
Ana rose to her feet. She was taller than the boy, and the look on her face said she was ready for a fight.
“Ana,” Calia whispered, tugging at her sleeve.
“I know your master,” Ana said. “You're Pete Builder's apprentice, aren't you?”
“That's right.”
“Find your own spot.”
The lad looked back at his friends uncertainly, but the girl who'd whispered to him called out: “She's that mad woman who pulled a knife on Jack. Don't let her bully you!”
Anastasia bridled at the comment, pushing the young man out of her way and striding towards the girl. Calia leapt to her feet and ran after her. This time she grabbed Ana's wrist and pulled hard.
“Leave them be. Let's just pack up our things and eat the rest of our grapes on the way home.”
“I'm not letting these little thugs intimidate me.”
“They're just stupid teenagers. Come on, it isn't worth making a scene.”
“Don't be such a pushover.”
“You're upsetting Karaline.”
The mention of her sister made Ana pause. She looked back and saw Kara clutching her blue doll tight, her eyes wide and fearful. The look of anger on Ana's face dimmed, and she let Calia pull her away. The group of youths watched from a distance, muttering inaudible comments that drew a few giggles from the girls. Ana looked back at them every time they laughed, but Calia made sure to keep one hand on her arm. They bundled their blanket into the basket and took their leave.
“Why don't we circle around the bottom of the hill?” Calia suggested. “We can have a little walk and enjoy what's left of the sunlight before we go home.”
“Yes, let's,” Karaline said. She was already perking back up. By the time they were out of sight of the teenagers, she looked like she'd already forgotten about the uncomfortable scene. Ana still brooded a few paces behind with her brow furrowed. Calia waited so that she could catch up.
“Have you ever come this way before?” she asked.
“No.”
“It's a nice little walk. You get to see the woods behind the manor, and there's a stream running around the hill into the valley.”
“And no teenagers,” Kara said.
Calia laughed. “No, none of them. Did you see the look on that girl's face when Ana got up? I don't think she's used to people pushing her boyfriend around.”
“I should have words with Pete Builder about him,” Ana said.
“Oh, I think you scared him enough. Come on, this way.” Calia led them down the west side of the hill behind the castle. A gentle path circled behind the manor before curving back to rejoin the road leading into Ashmount. With the lingering awkwardness of the confrontation dispelled, Ana began to brighten up again. She smiled when Calia and Karaline showed her a spot down by the stream where at least a dozen frogs could always be found lurking beneath a bed of wildflowers. Karaline rustled the plants with her hand and ran away giggling as an eruption of tiny brown frogs hopped out in all directions.
“I'd like to sew a frog doll,” she told them as they walked on. “Could I do that?”
“I've never heard of a frog doll before,” Calia said. “But we could definitely try.”
“There's a carpenter's wife in town who makes wooden animal figurines,” said Ana. “I've seen some frogs at her market stall. I'll buy you one to use as a reference.”
“Your sister likes to plan everything out, doesn't she?” Calia said to Karaline.
Ana folded her arms. “I won't have my sister making shoddy frogs.”
The tone of her voice was so sincere that Calia burst out laughing. Karaline joined her. Ana looked irritated, then bemused. Eventually, the smallest chuckle left her lips.
Their meandering walk around the hill took so long that it was dark by the time they returned to the Goldsmiths' house. Calia said goodnight to Karaline and sent her inside with the picnic basket.
“Stay here tonight,” Ana said. “You don't want to walk back to the manor alone in the dark.”
“I'll be alright. Besides, Lucy will worry about me if I don't come home.”
“Let me get you a lantern, then.”
Calia waited outside while Ana fetched the lantern. It was an expensive one, made from metal with holes in the sides to shield the flame from the wind.
“Don't lose it,” Ana told her. “Or Ferald will be very unhappy.”
“Thank you. I'll bring it back with me tomorrow morning.”
A moment of silence passed, neither of them knowing quite how to say goodbye, until Ana cleared her throat and said: “I'm glad to have you at the house, Calia.”
