//------------------------------// // The Mistress // Story: The House on Mayberry Hill // by Alexander //------------------------------// The House on Mayberry Hill Chapter 11: The Mistress Manson awoke at the very crack of dawn and removed himself from Rose’s loose embrace. He slid off the side of the bed and walked around the large maple wood foot and slipped out the door. He broke into a slow quiet trod down the silent dark hallway, its candles still unlit until he came to the handsome staircase. When he reached the ground floor, he slowly sneaked across the carpeted foyer and walked to the front door. He placed his hoof on the knob, turned it, opened the door, and stepped out into the morning. The air was cold on his face and on him as he stepped on across the porch. Each board beneath him gave way and creaked as he went and he cursed at them. They were loud and he would prefer to sneak out without waking up everything within any good sense of range. The boards of the steps creaked even louder and he cursed at them worse as consequence. He hated them. When he finally reached the packed gravel at the bottom after what felt like an hour of sneaking, Manson finally breathed a sigh of relief. He turned left onto the long driveway that stretched a mile out to the main road. The sounds of morning bird song drowned out the sound of the gravel compressing and shifting under his hooves with each step he took. The gravel was nowhere near as loud as the creaking boards of the porch, but he cursed and hated it all the same. When he finally reached the main road, he turned right and headed off towards town. The gravel changed over to dirt about another mile out from the intersection with the driveway. Manson rounded over the crest of a low hill and caught sight of the barn. Its windows were still dark and he stopped walking to listen. Not a thing could be heard over the soft sound of the singing birds. No conversation, no sound of walking, no sound of working; no sound of anything, just the birds singing. With a contented smile, he walked on down the road. ****** Palmer Orchid awoke from his sleep to the sound of wooden boards being moved around. He opened his eyes, shielded them from the sunlight pouring in from the window, raised his head, and drowsily gazed around the room. In the low dim light of the morning, he could easily see parts of the barn that had been shrouded in impenetrable shadows just a few hours before. The old stallion who had called himself Lock was sleeping flat on his back, his back hooves buried in the ashes of the fire and Flannel was curled up on his side and was covered in a thin linen sheet. As he raised he own head further from the pillow, Palmer heard the sound of moving wooden boards again. He turned his gaze to the corner furthest from the doors of the barn where a thing of tall wooden beams was propped against the wall. And standing by them with his back turned away yet again was Incognito. He had his head drooped low to the ground and he slowly moved round to behind the beams. He moved one out of the way to make more room before finally disappearing behind them. There was the sound of shuffling and things being moved before he finally backed out again. He turned his back to the board, locked eyes with the awoken farmer, and finally turned away again and walked slowly to the door. He pried it open and walked outside. “That’s Incognito,” a frail old voice said from behind. Palmer spun around in his spot and saw Lock still lying on his back, except for now, his eyes were open and he was watching. “What’d you say?” Palmer asked. “Ah said that that’s Incognito,” Lock replied. “What about him? Is he always that secretive?” “Like Ah said last night, he suffered somethin horrible when he was younger. He’s always been sort of secretive like this. We just pay it no mind. We think that it’s his way of healin and forgettin. Ah wouldn’t put too much thought on it.” Palmer turned his head round to the closed door again and stared at it where Incognito had passed through just moments earlier. “What about those boards over there?” he asked as he turned back around and pointed to the boards propped up against the wall. “What about them?” “Don’t they make you curious? Do you know what’s behind them?” “No. We ain’t curious any nor do we know what’s behind ‘em. Like Ah said, Incognito’s secretive and we just let him be as he is. He ain’t doin no harm any.” “Aren’t you curious just even a little?” “Ah admit that Ah have been several times over the while, but it’s best to just let things pass on their own.” Palmer turned back round the door and stood. He hurriedly brushed off a thin coat of dust that had settled on him during the night and watched as Lock did the same. “What do ya feel like for breakfast?” Lock asked as he gave his olden back a well deserved crack. “Oh no, I really have to be going,” Palmer denied, furiously shaking his head side to side, eventually eliciting a shard crack. “I heard that there’s a farmer’s fair off in some town a little ways down from Westerby and I was hoping on reaching it this morning.” “Well if ya’re planning on makin it over there then ya ain’t that far ways off,” the old stallion simply said with yet another tug of his white long beard. “The fair’s just about a few hours walk from here. Hmm . . . if you can leave here in just a few minutes then you should be able to make it there by about noon.” “What’s the name of the town?” Palmer asked. “I was told it yesterday afternoon before I started on my travels but I can’t remember it.” “Neighing? I believe that’s right.” “Neighing? Alright. Many thanks, old timer.” “Ya just go on and find a job. We got one open here on this plantation but if ya’re all set and ready to go on, then have an easy travel.” “Thank you.” “It is the job of older stallions and mares to provide knowledge and care for those that are younger than them. It has always been this way.” The determined farmer whistled his dog and gave the older stallion a hug. When he had everything set to go, he turned round and walked to the door. He turned the knob and stepped outside into the slowly warming morning air. He took a step and then another before closing the door behind him with a sharp click. The wood rattled as it closed. Tinker ran up ahead to the main road, jumping in and out of patches of grass that stood in his way. Palmer smiled as he made his own way, slow and steady, the air rustling his fur and the faint breeze messing his mane. When he reached the road, he turned back onto it and whistled for his dog to get back on track. When he received a snip on his leg, he began his march to Neighing. ****** “What else to you need, my lady?” asked Silver as she ran a comb through her mistress’ mane. “We’ve already gotten your carriage ready and waiting and your dress and things are ready and waiting on the bed . . . are you sure that we’re not missing anything?” “I’m sure, Silver,” Rose said as she smiled into the mirror in front of her. She blushed. Her yellow cheeks flooded with color and her eyes glistened in the light that was invading through the window. “I’m sure that we’ve gotten everything ready for today. It’s just a fair after all. I really don’t see why we should be so formal about this. It’s not as though we’re going someplace special with influential and very powerful ponies. It’s just a small town fair that we’re going to in hopes of picking up a worker to tend to our flock of sheep that are out running wild. Celestia only knows what they’re up to now.” “Well,” Silver said as she gave a tug on Rose’s stubborn mane, “If it’s like last time then they’re probably out by the western gate doing whatever it is that sheep do.” “And all they really do is get in the way,” Rose said, wincing slightly at a particularly hearty tug. “Honestly, we’re making enough money on just our milk and our harvests. Why do we have any sheep to begin with?” “Because your uncle loved sheep. He loved the way the sunlight reflected off of their clean white coats.” “They’re not really clean and white at the moment.” “True. If your uncle were still with us then he’d be doing something about it.” “I don’t care about the sheep.” “Why? They’re pretty when they’re cleaned up.” “They are kind of pretty I will admit but I still don’t care for them.” “Is there any particular reason? Because from what your uncle told me many times is that one usually has a reason for everything they do or think. He told me that one always has a reason and a cause and that something cannot just come out of nothing. That deep down there’s always some underlying reason and cause.” “I really don’t care what my uncle thinks. What I care about is the present now and what I think. I’m in charge here. My reasons and causes for things like what I think and why I think the way I think is irrelevant. My uncle was a sensible stallion and he eventually paid for it with his life. He went on without many friends. That is not how I wish to be. I wish to be that mare who everypony knows and who everypony loves. I want to be known. My uncle just sat back in his chair by the fire with his pipe and he would just think and it was that thinking of his that made him not well liked nor known. While everypony’s out working and getting known and getting on with their lives, my uncle would just be sitting inside going over some papers or whatever and thinking of reasons why everypony should slow down and admire and adore the things that surround us. I am not that kind of pony. I need to be out and about. I need to be liked and I need to be known. I cannot imagine a life just cooped up in front of a fire. It would be too boring.” “Well your uncle was never one for crowds of people to begin with. He enjoyed being inside with his small group of friends. He enjoyed their company and he was the happiest just sitting and smoking and talking and laughing. Your uncle was a very charming stallion and I miss him.” “Oh yeah, you were here when he was still here. And you were by his bed when he finally passed, weren’t you?” “I was, ma’am.” “Do you miss him?” “Everyday. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. I was his favorite and every morning I would come in and wake him up with a hug and a kiss. He always liked it when I would do that.” “You were his favorite?” “Well there were three servants here who took care of the house. There was Polish, Sterling, and myself. I don’t know where Polish and Sterling have gone. They just up and left after your uncle and my master died.” “Ah yes, I’ve heard things about those two.” “Have you?” “Oh yes. When I first came into town I heard that there were some new prostitutes working around who went by the names of Polish and Sterling. From what I overheard from some drunken ass at the tavern is that they’re actually pretty popular with that crowd.” “Hmm . . . I really thought they were alright mares. I never thought that they’d get into something like prostitution. That doesn’t suit their personalities in the slightest.” “Be as it may, I think that you’ve brushed my mane enough.” “Oh I’m sorry!” “It’s fine Silver. I think that I can take care of my bun. I’ve done it so many times in the past that it’s really just sort of second nature to me.” With that said Rose lit the tip of horn and lifted up a pin from the table. She bundled the end of her mane in another glow of light and brought it high above her head. She took one strand and tucked it behind and beneath another and then tied one around then into another bundle before inserting the pin to hold it all in place. The new bun fell loosely atop her head and bounced softly for a while before settling. Rose peered into the mirror and smiled, and then blushed, and then blushed harder when she saw that her reflection was blushing just as vividly as she was. “I think that will just about do it,” she said with a satisfied smile as she turned around in her seat. “You look very pretty, ma’am,” Silver said with a smile that mirrored Rose’s. “Thank you, Silver. Now then it’s time for the dress.” “Oh yes, ma’am,” Silver said as she rushed to the bed. She lifted the dress high above her head with a flicker of her own horn and brought it over to Rose’s side. She undid the front buttons and slipped it on over her master’s head, paying attention that the horn didn’t get caught and tear at the fabric. When the dress was fully in place, she buttoned up the front and admired her work. “Is it to your liking, ma’am?” she asked as she stepped away from the chair. Rose stood from her place and gave a short curt turn and spin before quizzically analyzing herself in the mirror before turning round with a smile. “Yes, Silver, I think that this will work perfectly for today. It’s not really so formal nor is it so loose and immodest; I do believe that it’s right there in that sweet spot that every designer and every mare tries to meet at least once in their lives.” “I’m glad to hear that I was able to find something that would fit.” “You did a good job.” “Thank you, ma’am.” “Now it’s time to get on our ways out and down to the carriage. How long do you think that it’ll take to get to Neighing?” Rose asked as she seemed to float across the floor to the door. “With the carriage, I would expect that we’d get there in an hour. Maybe two if we get caught in traffic. Which isn’t very likely because just as you said just a short while earlier, it’s just a small town fair for farmers. I don’t think that it’ll be too crowded. It never was when your uncle and I would go looking.” “Speaking of Uncle, who took of the sheep while he was alive?” “He always took care of them himself. He always thought that if he let anyone tend to them then they wouldn’t be the same, that they’d be dirtied.” “Dirtied? Is that what he really thought?” Rose asked with a hint of aversion in her voice as she stepped out into the hallway. “Was he really so obsessed with sheep that he’d go as far as to call them dirtied if anypony else tended to them?” “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that he was obsessed with them,” Silver quickly said, closing the door behind her and making sure that everything was taken care of. “He just found them really beautiful.” “Whatever. What time is it now?” “It’s a little bit after eight, ma’am.” “So if you said that we should get there to the fair in about an hour then we should get to Neighing around nine?” “Yes ma’am. If we can leave here in within the next ten minutes or so then we should get there before the crowds really start filtering in from all across the county.” “Silver, I’m actually kind of nervous.” “Why’s that ma’am?” “Because this is my very first fair and even though I want to become this well-known, respected, social mare, I can’t help but feel nervous at this time. Are you sure I look alright enough to go out?” “You look perfect ma’am and you’ll be fine. I’m sure of it. And besides, you’ve already got a bit of name going on for yourself around these parts just due to your relation with your uncle. Even though your uncle wasn’t well-liked or very social, everyone respected him because he did control the largest farm in these parts. And as such, because of your connection with him, you’ve already got a bit of reasonable reputation. You’ll be fine.” “Thank you Silver.” “There’s really no need to thank me for anything.” “But there is.” “What for?” “For being the best maid I think that I could ever hope to have.” “There’s really no need to thank me. It’s just my duty.” “Thank you Silver.” The two mares walked down the long length of the hallway now lit with a row of candles. Rose went on ahead, occasionally taking a short stop to look at something in another room before pressing on. Silver came up close behind her extinguishing the candles as she passed them by, casting the long hall into dimness only lit by the natural light invading in from the lonesome window at the very end of the hall. When the two reached the grand staircase, they quickly descended and crossed the carpeted foyer to the door. Silver lit the tip of her horn and swung the door open at the sound of rolling and clicking tumblers. Light flooded onto their faces as the two stepped outside onto the squeaky porch and as they descended down the rickety steps. They turned right and stepped into the shade of a magnificent red covered carriage. “Are you the driver?” Rose asked to a lanky tall stallion that stood lazily by the front right wheel. “Ay ma’am indeed I am, at your service.” “How much will I have to pay you to get to Neighing and back?” “Just four bits, ma’am.” “Just four?” “Ay ma’am.” Rose opened the pocket of her dress with a light of her own horn and extracted exactly four bits. She dropped them into her waiting hoof and hoofed them over to the driver of the carriage. With the transaction finished and the time ticking, Rose lifted herself up into the middle seat of the bench. Following her were Silver and the carriage’s driver. “Are you ready, ma’am?” “Yes. Quickly, let’s go before too much longer.” The driver gave the reins a sharp crack and the large mulls pulling the carriage started up. Their muscles stretched and flexed as they struggled to get going but almost as soon as they got started, they were off. The sound of turning wheels and crunching gravel met their ears as they started off down the driveway that stretched a mile out to the main road.