“Terrae”

Susanne coming to live with Brian

By C. Elliot Ritter



At this point Brian and Susanne have talked some, but not all that much. Susanne sees him as a friend and, at this exact moment, the only one she has in the castle. He sees her as someone he’s talked to several times, but no more than an acquaintance. To him she’s the “Vulpid girl” since he’s slow to remember names. Brian is sitting in his desk working on whatever the King has him working on at that moment.

It’s worth noting that in the current form of the story the king is Simonov, not Klinosh, I just haven’t changed the other drafts. Also since it would be explained in other places Bruse is an Ursid (bear). Susanne is of course a Vulpid (fox) and Simonov a Leonid (I know it’s a cliché, but a lion). Temnere are the “despised” races of Genah, including Vulpids, Mustilids (weasels in general), Procyds (raccoons) and Mephids (skunks). They are treated like Jews in Renaissance Europe or blacks in the post-Reconstruction South.



Brian heard a light, but frantic knocking on his door. He almost dismissed until he heard the Vulpid girl say quietly, “Brian?”

He twisted in his chair toward the door and said, “Yeah?”

“Can I come in, please?” She asked in a straining voice.

“Um,” it wasn’t anywhere close to lunch time, but she didn’t sound like she was here for that.

“Please?” She asked again and he could hear the desperation in her voice, “please?”

“Yeah come on in,” he said as he walked over to the door to open it.

She came in before he could and closed the door quickly, moving as far from the door as she could and said, “I didn’t do it I swear!” She sounded desperate.

“Do what?” Brian asked.

“Nell said I,” she said and stammered it out again several times.

“Calm down,” Brian said putting his hands on her shoulders trying to sooth her. The room was rank from her scent.

She swallowed and said in a shaking voice, “Nell said I did something and now they want to throw me out.”

“OK,” Brian said trying to catch everything, “What did she say you did?”

“She said I bit her, but I swear I didn’t!” Susanne sobbed. “And now Bruse wants to throw me out.”

“Bruse is the …” he couldn’t quite think fast enough for what he was wanting to say, “uh, in charge of everyone here, right?”

“Yeah,” she said and swallowed again, “I didn’t bite Nell. She hit me in the mouth and it was open.”

“Oh God,” Brian whispered and stood up straight from his stoop, taking his hand off of her shoulders. Her mouth was bleeding, too. He hated domestic abuse. He’d seen it go horribly bad too many times to count. Murder after murder and all because the woman wouldn’t press charges and leave the fucker. “Does she do it a lot?” Susanne nodded quickly. Brian shook his head and sighed, trying to compose himself. He rubbed under his nose while trying to think.

“Susanne!” He heard Bruse say from the door.

“I’m not here, please don’t tell him I’m here!” She said and cowered to wall across the door.

“I know you’re in there,” Bruse said in a firm, but gentle voice, “I can smell you.”

“Please,” she begged noiselessly.

Brian made a decision he knew he’d probably regret, “She’s here.” Susanne slid to the floor and sobbed.

Bruse opened the door. “You can’t stay here, not after that.”

“Please Bruse, no.” She said looking up with a wrecked face.

“Susanne it’s time,” he said in a more gentle voice as he walked toward her. “You’re twenty. You’re not a child anymore. It’s time to move on.”

“To a temnere ghetto,” she practically spat, “you know I can’t …”

“C’mon Susanne,” he said as he got to her. “You shouldn’t have bothered him like this” he said looking at Brian for approval, “he can’t help you.” She looked at Brian desperately hoping he’d do something. Anything. “Stand up, you don’t have that many things and I’ll,” he got really quiet like he was telling her a secret, “I’ll give you extra money. I know somebody who’ll take you in.”

She stood up, holding her back against the wall for support, “Brian, please …”

He took a deep breath, “Bruse?”

“It’s not your place to get involved,” Bruse said like he should have known already, “She is leaving here. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“Bruse,” Brian gestured toward himself and added, “Susanne go outside to the hall. We need to talk.”

Susanne walked slow, ears and tail flat, to the door. When she left Bruse spoke, “It’s not your business … Brian,” he said “Brian” like he wanted to call him “Ooman”, but didn’t want to insult him, “It’s for the best anyway.” Bruse sighed and licked his lips, “Nell…”

“Hits her,” Brian finished, maybe not his exact thought but the sentiment, “I know. She told me just now.”

“No — yes but no,” Bruse paced away from Brian and turned back, “Nell is furious. More than normal. She …” he paused like he was trying to find the right words, “she had a knife ready. OK? Susanne bit her. Hard —”

“She said that Nell hit her in the mouth,” Brian said trying to take up for her.

“She did and Susanne bit down,” Bruse got quieter, “she drew blood. If she’s not gone before the end of the day, I fear for her life.”

Brian was furious, but contained it. “I guess your right,” he shook his head, “it’s probably for the best.”

“Brian please,” he heard from the other side of the door. He remembered hearing that exact phrase, with all of the desperation, from another woman, too. Too many years ago to remember. His little sister dated some real scum. One day Tara appeared at his door with her year old child, bruised arms and two black eyes.

He finally said in almost a whisper, “Is there any other way?”

He shook his head as if he was thinking, but simply said, “No.”

“I…” he couldn’t believe he as doing this, “I need someone here. To help me with things.”

“No,” he said trying to put the thought of of his head, “She can’t stay.”

“Bruse, I don’t,” Brian tried to be as friendly as possible, but showed his authority, “I don’t want to go over your head. I like you you’re a friend.”

“Brian,” Bruse looked at the floor as he said, “she’s like a daughter to me.” He looked Brian in the eyes, “Her parents entrusted her to me and I’ve tried to be the best father I can under the circumstances.” Brian didn’t want to say how a good father doesn’t allow their children to be beaten. “But I only have so much authority and so much time to be around. I hate Nell for what she does to her and I hate myself for not being able to do anything about it. This hurts me, too, but it’s for the best.”

Brian hated exerting any kind of authority. He always wanted to be a friend first. Even as a Boy Scout camp councilor he rarely had to tell a Scout to behave or leave. Even when they played games with their knives, he tried not to do it. He was a nice guy. But now he said, “What if I talk to Simonov? Ask him if she could live in here with me. She wouldn’t have to leave.”

“If you talk to him and he agrees I’ll have to allow it,” Bruse said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But what about Nell?”

“What about her?” Brian said bluntly, “She has to obey the king, too. If Simonov says yes, she’ll be my responsibility.”

“Do it then,” Bruse said almost relieved, but with a hint of agitation, “but if he says no she has to leave.”

“Agreed,” Brian said and sighed deeply, “Susanne! Come on back in.” She came in trembling. Her face was puffy and she was holding her arms. “If the king agrees,” Brian stopped to emphasize it, “You’ll be staying here with me. If not, you have to go. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.” Susanne nodded quickly, “do you understand?”

“Yes,” she said in a breath.

“Bruse?” Brian said as he walked out the door. “I’ll let you know.” He put his hand on Susanne’s shoulder and said, “Come on.”

Simonov rarely kept court. He was somewhat reclusive and if he was a politician he’d probably have trouble being elected for it. They passed the entrance to the Great Hall and through a narrow spiraling staircase. “OK, Let me talk.” Brian said as the walked up the stairs, “He’s a nice guy, but he’s also a causal racist. He’s badmouthed temnere more than once and not even noticed it.” He stopped for a moment as the got to the top and turned to her, adding, “The only reason I noticed was because my wife was Indian and I developed a hypersensitivity to racism.”

“Ex-wife?” Susanne said quietly.

“Yes, thank you,” Brian said as the stopped at the door to Simonov’s chambers. “Have you ever met him?”

“Once, but I was little and it wasn’t Simonov.” She said in a voice that sounded like a little girl.

“OK,” Brian said and looked at her in her stained dress and corset and brushed uselessly at her shoulders, “Let me go in first then I’ll call you in if I need to.”

“OK.”

Brian knocked on the door and waited. One thing he’d learned, unlearned and relearned at his job at the Dispatch was tact and diplomacy. He’d interviewed a Senator for an hour and then after he got off the phone muttered, “Jackass.” After a moment he heard Simonov say, “Who is it?”

“It’s Brian,” he never used the honorifics like “your majesty” like he should. “I need to talk to you.” Susanne looked terrified as if she couldn’t believe that anyone being this casual with the king.

“Come on in,” he said and Brian opened the door.

“Stay out here,” Brian said and added, “and try to clam down. One of the things he complained about was a Vulpid’s scent and I think your gets stronger when you’re scared.”

“It does,” she gulped.

“OK,” Brian turned to go adding, “stay out here.” She nodded.

Simonov’s room was plain. He’d told Brian once that he wished he’d been born a common Leonid so he could live more simply, but his idea of simple living was badly skewed. He still had servants wait on him and ate food that a commoner could only dream of. When he got past the antechamber the king was sitting at a table with papers strewn over it.



— Insert plot elements here —



“That’s not why I came though,” Brian said after a moment.

“Oh?” Simonov leaned back from the table. “Go on.”

“I’d like to take on a personal servant,” Brian said choosing his words carefully, “I spend quite a bit of time running errands and sorting things that I’d could better spend helping out with this. Not to mention my place is a mess.”

“Like what kind of servant?” The king asked interested, “You do spend quite a bit of your time with national secrets.”

“I know,” Brian said, hoping that asking about a Vulpid wouldn’t throw him off of it, “Mostly cleaning and running for things. I would never let her see the papers.” Brian knew this was a bit of a stretch, but he said it anyway.

“You have someone in mind I presume?” He said and Brian kicked himself for letting the “her” slip.

“Yes,” Brian said in a sigh, “He name is Susanne. She works in the kitchen right now.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want a kitchen wench for a personal servant?”

Brian hated the word “wench”, but he said, “Yes.”

“And she’s waiting outside of here,” he said looking Brian directly in the eye, “I heard you talking to her. And she’s a Vulpid too, isn’t she?”

He wanted to say “shit”, but instead nodded out a, “Yeah.”

“Let me see her,” he said with a bit of annoyance.

Brian went out to get her and whispered, “Alright, don’t say anything. He’s already upset.” Susanne trembled as they went in with Brian leading her. “Um,” the honorific was proper now, “Your majesty, this is Susanne.”

“She’s a child,” he said almost immediately.

Brian could feel Susanne tense up. He knew that she hated being so underdeveloped. “She’s twenty,” he corrected.

He looked at her for a long, long moment then said, “She’s pretty, for a temnere. I don’t suppose you have ulterior motives?”

“No,” Brian flushed in embarrassment and anger and he could see Susanne’s ears turn red, “I have no desire for that.”

“Still?” Simonov asked surprised. He’d been trying to arrange a marriage to formally make Brian a nobleman and some of the women were apparently stunning. The only one that was the least bit attractive was a black Panthrid who was very sweet and very well proportioned with shiny, smooth black fur. Still, when she tried to be tender and nibble his neck, it made him worry for his throat so he refused.

“Yes,” Brian looked down at his feet as he adjusted them into an “at ease” stance and put his hands behind his back.

“What do you think?” He said presumably to Susanne, “Do you want this?” Susanne nodded slowly. “Speak, I want to hear your voice.”

“Yes,” she said quickly and quietly. She looked at Brian and then back to the king, “I, I want this.”

“Can she read?”

Susanne looked at Brian as if he’d know, but then said, “A little.”

Brian could see him weighing the idea of a literate temnere being so close to state secrets against Brian’s supposed value and finally said, “I’ll allow it,” they both let out a sigh of relief, “but you have two rooms, correct?”

“No” Brian said knowing it was wrong to correct him, “but there is second door, but I’m not sure where it goes.”

“It’s probably just to an unused room,” he said slightly annoyed, “you are to keep keep all documents in there under lock and key and out of her sight.”

“OK,” Brian said, and heard Susanne say as well.

“I still don’t believe you don’t have ulterior motives,” he said and added, “Go. I’ll have whatever needs to be done to have her paid by you and she is now being paid by you.”

“What about my things?” Susanne asked Brian meekly.

“We’ll get them,” Brian said and patted her hand.

“Alright, be gone,” Simonov said, “and have servant bring me some herbs to burn to get rid of the smell.”

When they left the room Brian said, “That was rude.”

“I’m sorry,” Susanne said in almost a knee-jerk, “I didn’t mean to be.”

“Not you, him.” Brian said rubbing her back with his hand, “You were fine.”

“Oh,” she said and followed him back down the stairs.