The Lady Tower

By Elsa Frohman
Part 1

Baron Emos Olivio Guivardo deZors pressed himself back against the wall and motioned for his men to conceal themselves. They were twelve stories up in the Lady Tower, one of the ancient buildings that stood behind his compound. It had been a long and arduous climb -- sometimes through dusty, long-neglected stairwells. Other times, rappelling up through gaps where the staircases had collapsed, other times yet, hoisting themselves on ropes through gaps in the ceiling. They were always alert to danger. The climb had begun at first light, and the stress was showing on the men.

They all knew the legends about this place. On certain days of the year, the glass front of the building mysteriously displayed the outline of a woman's body. It might have been the angle of the sun playing on distortions in the glass panels -- but legend had it that an ancient priestess had thrown herself from the top of the tower in despair over unrequited love. Her spirit had been trapped for all time in the structure of the building and was believed to attack any who entered the tower.

The ten handpicked men who accompanied their lord were tense, hiding their fear of forbidden territory. They seldom spoke, each man focused on guiding his feet over the uneven, often unstable floors, each man's ears strained to hear the approach of unnamed terror.

The Baron froze, listening intently. Silence. He slowly let out the breath he was holding, then froze again. He heard a sound -- a rhythmic tapping, moving deliberately from one end of the ceiling above them to the other.

They would have to find a way to the next level. Whatever it was they sought, it was still above them. The sound was both a blessing and a curse. For the first time since the quest began, they had something tangible to work towards, even if it was only a faint tapping. But at the same time, the men's fear increased as they approached the unknown goal.

This foray into the shadowy corridors of the Ancients was not to the Baron's liking. He would much rather leave the secrets of the past to foolish Abbot Maretus and his monks. But the flickering lights several of his night watches had reported had been in one of the towers in the Baron's sphere of influence. He could not invite the Abbot to investigate without ceding some of his own power.

To ignore the reports would be to court talk of weakness or cowardice.

So he chose a squad of his best men, including his two sons, Marco and Iali, to investigate. He had no concept of what they were searching for -- be it spirits of the ancients wandering the old corridors carrying wizard's fire, demons from the past, or something as prosaic as reflections of moonlight on metal. Deep in his heart, he hoped that it would turn out to be the latter.

"Back to the stairwell," he ordered in a voice meant to carry no farther than the man standing farthest from him.

Todo was knee-deep in cold, foul-smelling muck. On Josaf it was more akin hip-deep. They were both stripped to their underwear, their clothing removed to prevent contact with the collected human waste of the Baron's household.

"Why do we have to do this?" the slight 14-year-old whined.

"We do what is needed," Todo said steadily.

"But this?"

"This, that or anything else." He continued to use a pitchfork to rake through the stinking goo, looking for the blocked drain hole, intended to carry the waste into a cesspit outside the Baron's compound. They were beneath the Baron's much-bragged-about indoor loo.

"The Ancients must have had a better way to do this," Josaf said morosely.

"Hush, Josaf. I've told you before, never speak of the Ancients unless we are in private. You can never be certain that no one will overhear. The walls have ears."

"Aye," the boy mumbled. "But these walls don't have ears. These walls have arseholes."

Todo chuckled. "Watch your tongue, boy! Such language for a postulant!"

"Must I remain a postulant forever?"

"No, you'll be a novice after your saint's day."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, but we can talk about it another time."

Josaf went back to his work. A moment later, he was rewarded as he found a depression in the floor of the pit, and a small whirlpool formed.

"Good work!" Todo said triumphantly. "I knew you had a talent for this."

"Can we get out of here now?"

"Just a bit more." Todo went over to the area Josaf had been probing and used his pitchfork to widen the hole. The suction increased, and Josaf almost lost his footing. He would have slipped down into the muck, but Todo took his arm and steadied him.

"That should do it. Let's get some fresh air."

They scrambled up the ladder leaning against the side of the pool, and came out in the cold, overcast late afternoon at the edge of the Baron's courtyard -- two brown, muck-covered figures. Todo led his apprentice to the pump, where he drew a bucket of icy water and tipped it over the boy's head.

"Argh! My blood freezes!" Josaf whimpered.

Todo drew another bucket of water and drenched the boy again. Josaf was beginning to look human. A stack of rags from the Baron's kitchen served as toweling to dry the boy off, then Todo handed him his habit.

"You'd better get back to the abbey before you're missed."

Josaf nodded. "I hope the next time it's something less fragrant when you ask for my help."

Todo smiled. "You need to learn many things Josaf. Not only the old secrets."

"Aye, but I hadn't imagined there was so much to be learned about shite."

"Get along with you," the Custodian said with a smile.

Josaf hurried away, knowing he needed to get back to the abbey before the boards were set for the evening meal. His absences were carefully timed for periods when the monks were busy with daily chores, and a single postulant would not likely be missed.

Todo turned his attention to cleaning himself. He raised another bucket over his own head and poured it down, shivering as the ice-cold water ran over his bare, muck-covered skin. Two more buckets of water, and the worst of the dung was off his body, mingling with the mud at his feet.

He was thoroughly chilled. There was no sun to warm his cold skin, and a steady, bitter breeze blew across the courtyard. His teeth were chattering by the time he reached for his tattered and patched linen shirt.

"Hullo, Todo," said a familiar feminine voice.

Todo whirled around to face the speaker, clutching his shirt in front of himself.

"Miss Elora! I fear I'm not decent to socialize at the moment."

Elora, the only girl among the Baron's three children, giggled. She was eighteen now. Her father would be arranging a marriage for her soon, most likely at the Harvest Festival in a few weeks. Todo had known the girl since she was a toddler. She was growing out of her skinny, angular tomboy phase now, the sharp corners rounding and flowering into womanhood. Her fire-red curls were drawn back and tied at the nape of her neck with a turquoise ribbon. The effect matured her still youthful face -- a face Todo remembered fondly surrounded by a tangled mop of red hair.

Until the summer before last, she had been a regular among the children who gathered when Todo worked in public. She was a bright youngster with a fascination for machinery. Had she been anyone but the Baron's daughter, Todo might have considered her when selecting an apprentice.

But Elora's days running with the children of Fiorenza were over. She stood on the threshold of adulthood, and Todo was acutely embarrassed to think she might have been watching him wash himself.

"I just thought you might like a hot bath rather cleaning up out here in the courtyard," the girl said with a smile. "My father is away. I could draw you a bath in his chamber."

"I wouldn't be so presumptuous, miss."

"I'm sure father wouldn't mind. You've done us a great service. You've got rid of that terrible odor. I know my father wouldn't want you to carry remnants of that odor back to your own home. If he was here, he would insist!"

Todo thought for a moment, just as a chill breeze raised gooseflesh on his arms and back. A hot bath. How could he refuse?

The Baron's bathtub was a round wooden vessel, large enough to sit in with knees bent, situated behind a screen in the lord's chamber. Elora had a servant fill it partially with buckets of cold water from the well in the courtyard, then heated more water in a large kettle over the fireplace. The chamber was furnished with a big, four-poster bed, a writing desk and several chests. The cold, diffuse light streamed in at a window glazed with glass foraged from the lower levels of one of the old towers.

Todo sat behind the screen wrapped in a blanket, waiting for the hot water Elora was tending personally. She had sent the servant who carried the bulk of the water away as soon as the buckets were emptied into the tub.

"We see little of you these days, Todo. You would be welcome at my father's table any time."

"I've been busy, miss. There are many things in the city that need my attention."

"You don't need to be so formal," Elora said plaintively. "You used to call me Scrunge Monkey."

"You've grown up, miss."

Elora came around the screen with the steaming kettle and poured the hot water into the cold. She bent over and mixed the water with her hand. "There, I think that's warm enough." She motioned for Todo to get into the tub.

Todo clutched the blanket around himself and cleared his throat.

"Such a prig!" Elora said, clucking her tongue and turning her back on the handyman.

Todo shrugged off the blanket and moved quickly to sit down in the tub. Elora handed him a block of lye soap and a rag. She moved around behind him, but didn't leave the enclosure formed by the screen.

The warm water was heavenly. A hot bath was a luxury a man of Todo's station seldom had the opportunity to enjoy. He almost felt guilty indulging in such a sensualist pleasure, but told himself that the work he'd done this afternoon was worth an extra gratuity.

"I miss following you around," she said. "It was such fun. I wish I could still do that."

"Everybody grows up, Elora. You can't remain a child forever."

"That would be nice -- never growing up. But more than that, I wish I could still do things. Needlework, that's all I get to do these days. Needlework and mother's etiquette lessons. If I was a man, I could learn to ride and fight. But all they let me do now is embroidery."

"You don't want to learn to fight," Todo said with a chuckle. "A lot of swinging swords around and yelling. Little fun in that."

"You're right. Sword practice looks silly and boring. I want to run my own mill. Big grinding stones driven by the wind -- one gear turning another, wheat grinding down to the finest flour. That would be fun."

Todo reached over his shoulder to wash his back.

"Let me help you with that."

Elora took the cloth from Todo's hand and began to scrub the knotted muscles of his lean shoulders. The handyman leaned forward and let the girl massage him with the warm, wet cloth.

"I always liked helping you," Elora said softly. "Now you have that skinny little monk as your helper."

"Josaf is a good boy," Todo said uneasily. "He has a talent for mechanical things."

Elora dipped her cloth in the warm water and brought it up to run it over Todo's shoulders again. "I envy him," she said sadly.

"Surely not today," Todo said.

Elora slid the cloth over the Custodian's shoulder and down the front of his chest, leaning close to him from behind. She swirled the cloth over his pectorals and down over the hard muscles of his abdomen.

"Even today," she all but whispered, her lips a bare inch from his ear. "I would gladly work in a cesspit if I could work along side you."

Todo tensed.

Elora moved around to the side of the tub and kissed him on the cheek as her hand continued to massage his chest with the cloth. She moved to kiss him again, this time on the lips, but Todo caught her hand in his own and moved it away from his body.

"Stop it, Elora," he said, as sternly as he could.

The girl recoiled as her face fell.

"This isn't right," he said, his voice nearly failing him.

Elora's mouth tightened into a straight line. She blinked back tears.

"Please, Elora. You know it's not right. Your father would be more than angry."

"My father isn't here."

"You're being a very silly little girl. You always were the one who wanted all the attention. I suppose it's no surprise that the Baron's only daughter is a spoiled brat," Todo said tightly.

Elora fled, picking up her skirt to run out and slam her father's chamber door.

Todo sat for a moment, his cheeks burning. Then he got up, dried himself hastily and got dressed.