Seraphina Chapter 4: Echoes of her Past


      Her daily walks to the river served more than just a chance to wash her face and dip her tired toes in cool running water.  It was time to be Seraphina again.  Not Beth, nor Mina, just Seraphina.    Along the way, she would take note of the new flowers that had opened their buds, fanning their petals as if competing with one another for her attention.
      As she neared her destination, she could hear the rushing waters before she could ever see them.  The forest was dense and the canopy high, shielding her view but trapping the song of the river’s dance.   On this day, however, it was not just the familiar sounds of the watercourse.  Men’s voices of varying pitches snaked their way through the trees.  At first, she could not make out any words, but as she walked closer, she distinctly heard Silas’ voice rising above the others.   Seraphina’s routine path would be altered today, he was the last person she wanted to run into away from camp.  Before she left the sanctuary of the tree line, Seraphina hastily turned to continue upstream, leaving the voices behind her.

“Leave no room for doubt,” Silas insisted.  “Give the gypsy woman a reason to stay here when we pack up for Paris next week.”

“I’m not sure exactly what you expect us to do, Silas.” one of the two other men responded.

“I don’t know, Jonas, be creative.”  Silas was growing impatient.  “All I know is that Salome wants her gone.  Its all she talks about…and uh…if you happen to get rid of Rye in the process, all the better.”

      A nasty sneer formed across the face of the other man, Ivan.  The Russian was a hulk of a fellow.  He spoke little and carried many secrets.  Silas was not easily intimidated, but Ivan was unnerving.  He had somewhat recently been hired on with Poole’s Traveling Menagerie as brute muscle for helping to raise the main tent.  But soon, Silas had worked out that Ivan was willing to do more than just drive tent pegs into the earth.  For little compensation and not much coaxing, the Russian would carry out dirty work that Silas was hesitant to execute.  Silas even surmised that Ivan found great pleasure in any sinister task asked of him.  “Unnerving” was a modest characterization, to say the least.


      Seraphina had never been this far upstream.  The forest seemed to open up here, taking on a different hue with more sunlight penetrating the weald.  She could see a small meadow up ahead, but what caught her attention was a song.  A familiar ballad from her childhood.  Seraphina could not understand the words, but the melody was unmistakable.  
      Through the edge of the wood, she observed a woman gathering what appeared to be nettles.  She was dressed in the old style, as if she had just stepped into the present from a time long forgotten.  But, something was comforting about her semblance.  Even though the woman could not have been much older than Seraphina, she had a maternal way about her.  Seraphina stepped into the sunlight from the shade of the tree canopy.   The woman looked up from her harvesting and a warm smile appeared on her suntanned cheeks.
                               
 “Griaß di God, madl!”  The woman greeted and motioned for Seraphina to join her in the middle of the field.

“Hello!”  Seraphina called back, somewhat sheepishly, as she made her way through the tall grass to meet the woman.

"I am called Alyce, and you?"

“You speak English!   I am Mina.”  uuuughhh…. Inwardly, Seraphina cringed at the thought of lying to the gentlewoman. 
                
“Come, come, I need to get these into the pot.  I speak many languages, but English is not my favorite.  It has no rhythm.”

      And with that, the woman turned and began walking in the direction of the forest at the opposite end of the meadow.  For a moment, Seraphina hesitated, not exactly sure what she should do.  But the woman turned back and smiled that generous smile.  “Come, come!”

      So, Seraphina was persuaded.  She gathered her skirts and stepped through the reeds, taking care not to step in the softer, wetter areas where she was sure to lose a shoe.  Once the two reached the copse of trees, Seraphina spied a small dwelling.  Neat and tidy with a fire smoldering away in a ring of stones.  Alyce pulled the bundle of nettles she had amassed in her apron and proceeded to pack them into a large pot of simmering water that was suspended above the fire ring. 
“Nettles wait for no one, my dear.”  She said in a thick Bavarian accent.  “I need to boil them down for salve.  My knees ache if I am working for too long.”
      
      Seraphina noticed she a large stockpile of empty jars, bottles and other vessels.  All were neatly organized by type on wooden shelves flanking the doorway of the tiny house.  A moth unlike she had ever seen before landed on Alyce’s shoulder.  Its coloring reminded Seraphina of jade.  The moth was nearly the size of her palm.  It had spotted antennae and feather-like wings.

 “Are you…”  Seraphina paused, searching for the word.  “Chov’hani?"                                                           
 Alyce shook her head.  “I do not utter chants or bind with spells.  I am a healer.  My father was an apothecary and my mother, Rom from the forests of Šumava.”

And there it was, the connection Seraphina felt when she first laid eyes on Alyce. 
                                        
“When my father died unexpectedly, we left Prague and retreated to the forest where my mother was born.  What she taught me about native plants and herbs added to what I had learned while helping my father in his work.  You, too, are Romani, no?”

“Yes.  My parents were living in Austria but fled when the war of independence broke out.  Our camp kept getting pushed north and we were eventually separated from them.  I was born in England.  My parents were both killed in a fire when I was not yet a year old and I was taken in by a camp and raised by a woman who had lost her child to sickness the year before.  Her name was Kezia and she loved me as her own.”
    
      It felt good to speak of her real past, to share something personal with a kindred spirit.  Then a twinge of guilt for not revealing her real name crept in.
“Alyce…”  Seraphina stammered, “my name is not Mina, its…”

      Before she could finish the sentence, Alyce raised her hand.  “It is of no importance.  You need to keep some things to yourself.  These are dangerous times for travelers, especially women and the less anyone knows, the better.”

Seraphina smiled and nodded.  “I suppose you are right, Alyce, thank you.”

“Come.”  Alyce insisted.  “I have a remedy for that blister.”


        She did indeed have quite the blister on the tip of her middle finger from all the sewing she had been doing.  There was but one thimble and she insisted that Bonnie use it.  
      Inside, the small house was neatly arranged with a sleeping cot under a window against the rear wall.  The remaining walls were lined with shelves of books, bottles, tinctures, herb infused oils and many tools of the apothecary trade that Seraphina could not identify.  
      A large table was centered in the main room just inside the doorway.  She could tell Alyce had been hard at work, mixing remedies and balms.  A small wooden box was open and she could see little bottles filled with dried herbs, powders and various elixirs.  Alyce reached for a book off a nearby shelf and leafed through the pages until she found just the one she was looking for.

“Ah, yes, this one.”  She handed the book to Seraphina, it was opened to a page written in old German.  There was a drawing of an herb she recognized as wolfsbane.  Alyce took a vial from the opened box and shook some dried flower petals into a sizable iron mortar.  Then, she added a small amount of an infused oil that was sitting on the table.  Taking an old worn pestle, she began grinding the petals into the oil until it formed a loose paste.

“Hand me that little tin, there.”
Seraphina saw the flat metal container and handed it to her.  Alyce scooped the balm into the tin replaced its lid and handed it back to Seraphina.

“Before you sleep, put some on the blister and loosely wrap it with this bandage.”  She handed over a loosely woven gauze.  “It should heal up in a few days.  Try to wrap your finger in leather if you will be sewing.”

“I don’t know what to say, thank you, Alyce.”

“The pleasure is mine, love.”

Seraphina then realized how late it was getting.  “I really must be going.  I am sorry to rush off, may I visit you again?”

“Please do, I will look forward to it.”  There was that smile again.



      Later that evening, after all the animals were fed and the supper dishes were washed and dried, Seraphina nestled herself into her cot.  By the light of a candle, she applied the balm to the blister and wrapped her finger in the gauze.  Bonnie had long since fallen asleep.  She had had a busy day playing with the new colt that morning and fetching things for Magda all afternoon.
  
      Just then, a sharp, piercing cry broke the silence.  Something was very wrong.  Seraphina leapt from her blankets and quickly put on her shoes and headed out of the tent.
She followed the sounds of commotion and they brought her to the horse stable.  A mob of hired hands, performers and onlookers crowded around someone lying on the floor of the stable.   
      Seraphina elbowed and pushed her way through only to find Rye’s face contorted in extreme pain.  He clutched his right arm to his chest while a growing blood stain bloomed through his shirt.  She could tell he was having a lot of trouble breathing.  A hay hook was protruding from his side.  It looked to be lodged between his ribs and it was very deep.  One of the hired hands reached forward to pull the hook from Rye’s side.

“NO!”  Seraphina screamed.  “Leave it!  If you take it out, he may bleed to death before a doctor could get here!”
She began to panic.  Her thoughts were racing and she felt like she would faint.
Alyce!  I must get to Alyce!

    Seraphina yelled to Rye’s stableman to keep him still and as calm as possible, she was going to get help.  She grabbed a lantern and ran out the barn doors, hoping beyond all hope that she could find her way back to Alyce’s house on a night with little moonlight.
In a dark corner of the stable, Jonas and Ivan shared a glance and Ivan slipped quietly from the crowd and followed Seraphina into the dark forest.


Comments

  1. Great adventure with mystery and suspence can't wait for your next chapter Nik.

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  2. Nik, You are amazing! Are you self-taught? I am so impressed by the depth of your creativity and skills to go along with that. I just and speechless at this latest project and how beautiful and complete it is. Well done! I aspire to create some of the level of quality that you always seem to achieve. Thanks for sharing.

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  3. Nik, you really should turn this into a novel. This story is amazing. And of course I love your journals!

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