The #Broken_Dagger Forum

Put not your trust in men.
God suffices only. God and family.

Kaczmareks do what we must.

They are a black-haired, wild-eyed family, creatures of the land, of brick-dust and lambswool and hunger. Legally, they are owned for just a few years more: Karol and Magda, their six (seven? Greatly to be wished!) children, their children's children, even though the Bakers only require the labor of four. This is a life that makes a woman in her mid-thirties a grandmother. This is a life that drives a daughter, of all things, to the sword, and a son to scramble upon the edge of what is right and what is wrong. This is a family where survival skills often mean pushing up against the law.

So far, they've come out on top.

"Kaczmareks always do," gruff Karol would say, hidden away in his paralytic's den, shouting for more of Piotr's still-juice. But even he would say: it is hard to feed the children. They go to bed hungry more often than not. And without Agnieszka's army money, ah! Without Agnieszka.

So: last night, Dominik came home from the Broken Dagger with two high-priced, expensive, open bottles of whiskey, which he left on the battered table at his parents' house. Aeryn Karolinger could not imagine the debate: to resell? To drink? Where Aeryn sees consumables, the Kaczmareks see convertible cash. Being owned by a farmer and his wife for fifteen years is enough to make anyone turn to this.

They are suspicious of anyone in power, these peasants: so it is difficult to make the decision to invest most of their service to one man. Aeryn Karolinger already has a claim over the emotional attention of their misfit daughter (missing -- oh! They hope beyond hope that it is only that, and watch at the door), and now he asks for this.

But the consensus, that night, is: it would be good for Otto and Lucasz to start learning a trade, as the Kaczmareks do not plan to be bondsmen for very much longer; and the Wall, when constructed, fed the Kaczmareks for months. So; in Karolinger's service they go, Dominik the mason and his brother Piotr and four strange-looking, water-eyed men, "colleagues" of his, Dom-the-slippery says, the word rolling off his tongue like it doesn't belong, on a contract to the Wall, there to repair and rebuild, add and subtract, support the gates. The closer the men get to the Brotherhood, the more they know about their movements to help with the family's other trade. The more they may get news about Agnieszka.

It's a good trade, they decide, and it cannot be denied: the children need to eat, and one apple costs a day's wages of Magda's work in the Bakers' fields. One!

They save one bottle of the beautiful whiskey for themselves, and sell the other to a neighbor. The wives take up the brothers' roles in the fields. Times are hard. You do what you have to.

Agnieszka would understand.

Calomel was right: it would have been better for him to break the news and present her. When she showed up at the group of Kaczmarek huts, you would have thought the end of the world -- or, at least, a really good fight -- was beginning, the shouting and cheering were so loud.

Once Magda got over her fainting fit, that is.

She'd been deposited headlong behind the bar at the Broken Dagger that very evening by a column of light (much to the consternation of Ariane, Ignas, and Cinnabar, and the non-consternation of one still-nameless Kaelum), broke quite a few bottles of house wine because of it, and was still picking glass out of her skin; nevertheless, that doesn't stop her mother from hugging her so hard she thinks she'll never breathe again, or her brothers from slapping her on the back, or her littlest brothers from tugging her hair. By the end of the homecoming, she feels rightly abused and revels in it.

She strips off Evi's beribboned clothes -- corset, skirt, ribboned leg-warmers, and boots all go into a bag and thrown into the corner. She'll not throw them out, no; they may be strange, but they're of good quality, and a good Kaczmarek never throws anything out that she can sell, as Karol likes to say.

Later on, she lights a candle and gets down to business. Agnieszka can write now; and, if not write properly, she can scrawl, at least, thanks to the Brotherhood Captain, and that has come in quite handy for her own purposes and her family's.

--

Deer Aeryn,

I got kidnapd by a goblin and a dead man but I tawt them a lessun and they sent me bak. I wasunt in tray Kelsa else I wud have kom hom sooner!! it is hard too explane. everybudy thot I was ded, but I am not, haha, nobudy can kill me!!

i will be bak soon i am visiting familee. hope you did not think i was ded too,

Agnie

--

Another, brought by young Lucasz to another place:

Mathew,

I dont kno what you are geting at but the shipment wus reilly bad. You stink, do it better next time or i will get sumone else.

Dom

Agnieszka is near-breathless when she arrives home from her meeting, and makes her request that her mother, father, and two older brothers meet her -- now. Alone.

Dominik listens intently, and within a few moments, the children are banished; one is sent to fetch Piotr from the fields and another to get Magda from the laundry. All of them pile into the small room that has been Karol's -- the man's already half-gone from this morning's whiskey -- and Agnieszka's words come out in an excited, half-crazy waterfall.

"No," breathes Magda, horrified.
"Yes," says Dominik.
Piotr simply loses all focus to his gaze, turning his head to the side.
"Why the hell not?" mumbles Karol.
"It's an abomination. I draw the line here," says Magda.
Dominik shakes his head. "Mother --"
"I will not have any of my children --" Magda's so off-kilter that she's begun to speak in Dauntless.
"They're not exactly children," points out Karol.
"It's a chance," Piotr says, quietly.
"This place -- this place is ruining all of you," Magda finishes, twisting her hands in her apron. "I want this as much as you, but -- this is not the way to do it! God! Agnieszka! Could you have not just stayed home all those years ago like a good girl! You bring such horrors on us all!" And with that, she turns and walks out of the house, stalking back to the laundry-basin outside of the big house.

The other Kaczmareks remain quiet for a little while, until Karol tries to push himself up with his arms and grumbles something Dauntless and foul underneath his breath. Agnieszka watches the floor. "She loves you. She is just worried. I say yes."
"I think we need more information," Piotr says.
"Okay," Agnieszka says. "I'll take you there."