Read Quintspinner Online

Authors: Dianne Greenlay

Quintspinner (31 page)

 

“Have you stopped taking the tea with tonic that your father was having prepared for you?” Edward’s question caught Tess off guard. He poured a small amount of brandy into the crystal goblet he had set before her. Tess noted that her father had seemed more relaxed about her being in Edward’s presence, unchaperoned. It annoyed her to think of the amount of trust her father had in Edward.

“What business of that is yours?” she replied indignantly.

Edward sat across from her and raised his own glass of the amber liquid to his lips.
Stupid girl. The rings must be freely given to me to preserve their powers or I would have removed them from you by now.
Through the vapors of time, his mother’s words, further teachings to him in his childhood, came back to him, swirling in whispers as faint as ghostly impressions.
The power of a spinner ring cannot be used against a true Spinner,
he heard her long forgotten voice whisper in his head.
The ring’s power can only be used to aid such a one. Cannot be used against ….
Edward considered this knowledge and decided to keep it to himself for now.

“One must be of sound mind to fully harness the power of the spinners.” He pointed an accusing finger at her. “If your mind is dulled by the daily infusion of a tonic such as laudanum, it will most certainly make you deaf and dumb to the spinners’ council.”

In spite of her natural inclination to be defensive towards his words, Tess knew she was being instructed in an important first detail. Edward was right about the dulling effects on her thoughts. In fact, Cassie and Tess had had such an argument only that very morning, as Cassie had accused Tess of becoming complacent about everything.

“It’s the damned tea! Don’t you see yourself changing?” Cassie had shouted at her.

“Father says it’s in my best interest–”

“And when did you stop standing up to him in times when you thought differently from him? I’ve never seen you to be such a–a ninny!”

“What’s your worry then?” Tess had hissed at her. “I’m his daughter. I’m doing as I please!”

Cassie’s eyes had widened at the thinly veiled insult. “Well aren’t you just the bantam cock strutting on his own dunghill!” Cassie’s words had stung and Tess had burned with the shame of her pointed statement.

Well it’s true!
Tess had thought haughtily.
I am the daughter they first chose,
and she had whirled around and left their shared cabin, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Laudanum was a general tonic used often and liberally for many conditions in a medical practice. She had come to enjoy–no, even to eagerly look forward to–the pleasant sensation of a wash of head-to-toe warming that the tonic always produced. It was soothing, calming, and, Tess slowly realized, addicting. Now Edward was on about the same thing. Her irritation with him was growing but she knew that annoying him would not get her the answers she sought. She tried another tactic.

“Tell me more about the spinners,” she suggested. “And more about what you and the old woman both seem to think I am. What is a Quintspinner?”

“Further instruction will be wasted on you unless you are able to forgo the tonic,” Edward replied calmly. “On each day that you arrive here clear of its influence, I will offer further knowledge to you. Otherwise, you will be lost to your great purpose in this life.” He stared at Tess, making sure that she understood his resolve. “For today, I will offer the story of my own involvement, as such a tale is not of as great importance as the workings of the spinners themselves. But,” he warned her again, “after today, no further tonic. And Tess, I
will
know.”

“I’m the one with the tourmaline ring!” Tess retorted. “You don’t have access to its power of prophecy!”

Edward snorted and shook his head in amusement. “The ring is not needed to know such a thing, my dear. Your own eyes, the very pupils which shrink in response to the tonic, would give you away.”

 

“My father was a scribe,” Edward began, “summoned, by Princess Catherine of Braganza, from their home country of Portugal, soon after her wedding in England to Charles II. My mother came from a country further east of Portugal, its identity unknown to me; I had heard it said that she was a woman from a gypsy caravan, a woman who bewitched my father with her beauty and powers of persuasion. While in the royal court, my father was granted permission to have his wife reside there with him. She became pregnant soon after her arrival and barely survived the difficult delivery of her children.”

“Children? Do you mean she had more than one?” Tess was instantly intrigued by this possibility. “More than one at a single birth?” In all of the births she had attended with her father, no babies from a multiple birth had ever survived. Surviving twins were a rarity.

“Indeed. I have a brother, Thomas, and–”

“You have a brother?” Tess broke in. She could hardly contain her astonishment. “Where is he now? Is he still living?”

“I suppose that would be a slight possibility, although I have not had word from him in many years.” Edward saw Tess’s inquiring look and he continued before she could interrupt him again. “Thomas and I were very different from the start. Both of us were well schooled in several languages, both written and spoken, as well as in mathematics, history, philosophy, and a certain amount of warfare techniques. It was in the physical lessons that Thomas excelled and I failed miserably.”

“What do you mean?” Tess asked.

“Although we were delivered from the same woman’s loins, and we grew and thrived under much the same court tendencies and experiences, I found myself able to influence others by speech alone, and I was therefore trained as a scholar, groomed to be an effective emissary as a courtier for the British monarchy. Thomas, however, had different aptitudes and appetites ….” Edward’s voice trailed away as if he were lost in long-forgotten memories.

Tess waited impatiently for Edward to go on. He continued to stare off into the distance.

“What happened to him?” she asked when she could stand his silence no longer.

Edward blinked and returned his gaze to her. “Thomas was brash. And cruel, I think. He abused his position of power in court from an early age, wielding harsh penalties upon his underlings for even the most menial of infractions, and often taking their women and daughters as he wished to slake his own lusts. We were still very young men when his reputation became known far and away, and his actions became openly resented by the commoners under his ownership and control.” Edward paused and leaned forward.

“I was therefore not sorry to have my father gain an appointment for him as a captain of an exploring sea-going vessel and to have him delivered not only from the court, but from England itself. You see, his unfettered appetites for lust and cruelty provided his own demise when, after one particularly brutal rape of a young girl, forcibly done in front of her father, resulted in both the girl’s death during the delivery of the resultant child, as well as that of her despondent father. Word of this event and its outcome spread among the farmers, the trades people, even among those living in court themselves, and my father feared Thomas might have hung for it. Especially if it had become known that Thomas carried the mark.”

“The mark?”

“The very same as you have. The mark of a Quintspinner. His mark appeared under his arm and was therefore more easily hidden, although it would surely have been discovered if he had been held in any prison.

“It is carried down family lines.
He
was born with it and I … was not,” Edward finished bitterly. After a moment, he continued, “Just as well, I suppose, that he never gained the knowledge, never took the opportunities to travel to countries with much more ancient knowledge than ours … never came into possession of a spinner ring as I did, and never became a
Spinner.”

Tess’s head was reeling. Her chest felt tight and her breath came in shallow gasps.
Thomas’s story! The details! They were identical to–

Her thoughts were interrupted when Edward placed his hand on her arm and gently stroked her hand with his.

“So you see, our family received a letter from Thomas every few years, but he did not return to England in person, and eventually even the letters stopped. His present whereabouts is unknown to me and it is likely that he no longer survives.” He sat back with a look of satisfaction on his face. “Now, I wish to hear the details of your family’s background. The Quintspinner mark
is
a family inheritance, after all.”

“I–I was adopted by the Willoughby’s,” Tess stuttered. “I am … was … an orphan.” Waves of nausea washed over her. She jumped up from the wooden stool, sending it crashing over in her haste. “I have to go! I don’t feel well!” she exclaimed and bolted for the door.

“You are …
an orphan?”
Edward was clearly disappointed.

“Yes!” Tess affirmed as she ran from Edward’s cabin.
And you are my uncle!

Marriage arrangements between family members were commonly done, she knew. Among royals and upper class, marriage between blood relatives happened for reasons as diverse as preserving blood lines, securing political power and social status, or to gain wealth. But none of these mattered to Tess. It was time to confide in her grandmother.

The opportunity for that, however, was stolen from her.

 

The warmth of the air as the
Mary Jane
sailed closer to her southern destination soothed tempers like udder balm spread on an open boil. Sunshine, splashing hot on their skin, filled the crew and passengers with a mellow sluggishness as the days passed. A pleasant laziness as such had seeped into them all when the cry from the foremast lookout struck a universal bolt of fear into each sailor.

“Ahoy! Sail ho! Ahoy!”

The lookout’s voice brought everything to a sudden standstill as voices and activity alike froze. The silence was immediate and eerily complete as all eyes trained on the top hand perched in the sky overhead. Both captains appeared on deck.

“Where away, Sir?” Captain Raleigh bellowed.

“A glass! Bring me a glass!” Captain Crowell barked. Men scrambled and a telescoping spyglass was produced. “Where away is the sail?” he too shouted as he rushed to the railing of the foredeck.

“Larboard astern!” The muffled cry filtered down from the top hand. Larboard
astern.
An approach from behind. Tension gripped the crew as men strained to catch a glimpse of the sighted vessel. Larboard at this stage in their journey meant an open water approach. Perhaps it was only a merchant vessel like herself, loaded with goods for trade and headed for the islands. That was it, most likely ….

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