The Princess of Venda

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The Princess of Venda
Part I of III

Chapter 1

I’ve long had a love affair with trains. When I was growing up with my cousin in Dublin, the capital of New Venda, we would often climb to a high tower and stare out over the countryside counting the cars on a long train that wound its way up the valley to Adelaide or down to the east toward Sydney. Many times when we went on horse rides in the country, we would divert from the horse trail that ran through the vineyards to climb a hill and look for passing trains. Of course we had to watch out for rabbit holes on the hillside, as well as snakes. But we would always get to see a mob of red roos bouncing around the bushland.

So when my cousin invited me to attend her wedding in Dublin, I skipped the air service and decided to catch the passenger train that still ran from Adelaide to Dublin and on to Canberra. It allowed me to enjoy a bottle of shiraz as I watched the country rolling by. It gave me time to recall special memories from my younger years. And it let me take along Mister Bollocks, my favorite buloke walking stick, which would never have been allowed on a plane.

I left Adelaide on Monday afternoon, checked my suitcase and garment bag with the porter, and took my messenger bag and walking stick up to the passenger compartment. Once the train left Adelaide and gained speed up through the Eden Valley, I opened the bottle of shiraz I had brought and let it breathe for a bit while my mind drifted.

“Beat you to the top of the stairs, Shelley!” Bridget called out and dashed down the second story hallway of the castle, her long hair swinging around her shoulders as her skirt bounced off her legs. My hair swung almost as much as hers and my skirt probably bounced more as I tried to catch up to her. At least she had the sense to pick Keds for our after class play time. As we chased through the castle, we looked like twin sisters and we got a mixture of chuckles and frowns from the castle staff as we dodged around them. I had been trying since the age of five to grow my hair as long as hers. But she had the lead in that as well as in our race because although she was a girl, I had been born a boy.

I pulled my hair through the long low ponytail that hung down my back and wondered how we would compare now? But I sipped a final glass of shiraz and watched the vineyards roll by on the right as the train climbed up the valley towards the east. Later I rested my head on a small pillow against the window and listened to Sara Davis Buechner’s fingers dance over the piano as I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2

A glorious sunrise aroused me from my overnight slumber, and I walked up the train to the dining car for some toast with avocado and a bowl of coconut yogurt. I usually skipped the traditional fry-up to help maintain my trim body and a train was not a good place to enjoy that anyway. Besides, I was sure there would be several abundant dinners in the coming days leading up to the wedding on Saturday, the 15th of January.

When I climbed down from the train, I was greeted by a chauffeur and footman in the castle livery, who took my baggage and escorted me out to a Rolls Royce with the New Venda crest on the door. I had been told to expect the car, but I hadn’t expected someone to be waiting in the back seat to accompany me to the castle. And I really hadn’t thought that person would be the Lady Matilda Duchovny, Duchess of Southland.
“Welcome to New Venda, Shelley!” she said. “Bridget would have met you herself, but she has so many meetings to get organized for the wedding and the extra security would have been horrid. How was your train ride?”

I hesitated, probably just because I was surprised, and then answered carefully, “Pleasant enough, your Highness. The track is not as smooth as the bullet service along the coastland, but I love the scenery and the wildlife.”

“Oh please, Shelley, just call me Matilda. I know you’re just a commoner, but my research shows you’ve been an outstanding citizen of our Duchy. Your research in the department of mines has done so much to help keep the water clean for our citizens. And after the big to-do on Saturday, we’ll be cousins too!”

I looked out the window to see where we were going. The chauffeur was taking a circuitous route through a more residential part of the city and we passed an athletic field where an open air market was giving visitors a chance to shop for local produce, trinkets and other memorabilia. I suppose I should have expected something like this. While my father was an ordinary sub-minister in the trade ministry of the Principality of New Venda, my mother was the cousin of Harold Warwick, now the reigning prince of New Venda. And my second cousin, Bridget Warwick, was the darling of the gossip press, the Anti-Kardashian from down under, and his daughter the Princess of New Venda. And on Saturday, Bridget was scheduled to marry Rupert Duchovny, Matilda’s brother and the heir to the Duchy of Southland where my home of Adelaide was the capital.

Chapter 3.

The Rolls didn’t seem to attract much attention as it pulled though a side gate and drove around behind the castle before a garage door swung open allowing it to pull inside.

“Come on, Shelley, let’s get you to your room,” Matilda said as she swung her door open. I waved the footman to go by and then opened my door and stepped out of the Rolls with Mister Bollocks and my messenger bag.

“OK, I’m coming,” I called as I walked around the front of the car and followed her through a door and into a hallway behind the garages. This building seemed to have been built from the new-style semi-industrial architectural model with sealed concrete floors and steel doors. But after crossing a covered walkway, we opened an elegantly carved wooden door and stepped onto the waxed wooden floors of the castle itself. A locked door on the left led to the public areas of the first floor of the castle. But we turned the corner and Matilda waved an ID badge with an NFC chip over a detector by the elevator and the door swung open. The elevator took us up to the fourth floor of the castle, where the royal family and senior officials resided.

We walked down a high-ceiling hallway lined with rows of paintings and occasional benches or chairs for those in need of rest or just a quiet place to chat. At the corner we faced the portrait of an older woman, elegant but with a dour look on her face. She seemed to be frowning at me, in admonition for the sins of my youth.

Matilda paused and looked up. “Dear old Lady Warwick! Have you seen anyone running down the halls lately?” she commented. “Doesn’t this place bring back memories, Shelley? I didn’t get over here to visit nearly as often as I would have liked, but I understand you and Bridget had a lot of fun together when you were younger.”

“Oh yes,” I said. “I don’t know if we drove the staff crazy or just brightened their day a little.”

“Probably both,” she said. We started down the next hall along the eastern side of the castle. The doors were further apart, as this section was laid out into extended suites for the royal family and special guests. “The first suite here is Bridget’s, I am staying in the second suite, and they have you set up for the third suite.”

The footman led us to the third door, opened it and let us into a large day room that was almost as large as my whole apartment.
Matilda waved at the footman and said, “Charles will be taking care of you while you’re here, Shelley. Won’t you, Charles?”

“Yes ma’am,” Charles replied and started putting my clothes away. I moved to interrupt but Matilda grabbed my arm.

“Let him go ahead. The staff take pride in giving you good service. When he’s finished, why don’t you catch a nap. Bridget will join us for lunch in my suite. We can catch up on old times and let you know what is coming up then.”

She left with Charles and I decided to take her suggestion.

A knock on the door woke me from my nap and I called out, “Yes, who is it?”

“Almost time for lunch, sir. Miss Bridget asked me to wake you.” Charles called out.

“Thanks, Charles,” I replied and dragged myself awake. After a shower, shave and change of clothes, I opened the door and stepped out. Charles gave me a quick look and a smile of approval, then waved me to a girl standing in front of Matilda’s suite. “This is Tina. She is looking after Miss Matilda.”

Tina smiled and gave me a short curtsey, then opened the door. “Come on in, sir. Miss Matilda is waiting for you.”

I stepped into the room as Matilda rose from her chair and welcomed me. “The sleeper awakes! Have you recovered from your trip?”

“I think so. I enjoy the trip, but you don’t really rest unless you pony up for a sleeping car.”

“Well, please sit down.” She waved to an oval table at one end of the room. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please. That would really hit the spot.”

She poured me a cup of tea, then added some fresh tea to her cup and offered me a plate of shortbread cookies. I took one, sat down and sipped my tea.

“This tea is excellent!” I said and it was. It was better than even my best effort at brewing my own and much better than the bottled stuff I usually put up with. “Where is Bridget? I thought she would be meeting us too.”

Just then the door opened, and Bridget stepped into the room, then dashed over to my chair and engulfed me in a hug. “You came, Shelley! I’m so glad to see you. It’s been so long.”

“Of course I came. I couldn’t miss my favorite cousin’s wedding, could I?”

“I know, but it’s a long trip and you can’t just write it off as a business expense, can you?”

Then she turned to Tina standing at the door. “Tina, please tell the kitchen to bring up our lunch now, won’t you?”

“Yes, miss.” Tina said and closed the door.

“Did you catch him up on the schedule, Tillie?” Bridget asked Matilda.

“No. We were just chatting and waiting for you.”

“That’s fine. Let me tell you what is going on this week, Shelley, I usually have a mid-morning meeting for one of my responsibilities, but today was the last for a while. I’m on the board of the Warwick Women’s Fund, which provides support for victims of domestic abuse as well as adoption and foster services. It’s always tough to find enough foster support for children who need it, but fortunately the Council have been generous in funding these services and the WWF helps fill in the gaps and support people who are leery of the official programs.
I have one more meeting this afternoon to review the wedding plans, then we’re relatively free for the rest of the day. We can have fun catching up! But there’s a small family dinner downstairs this evening at 7.

Tomorrow morning the bridesmaids will arrive, and we’ll have a brunch when they’re all here. Then in the afternoon, we have a final dress fitting. And in the evening will be our princess party.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

Matilda answered. “I guess you are out of the loop, Shelley. A lot of weddings these days have a special night for all the women involved. It’s their equivalent of the men taking the groom out for a final fling. Some of them do really weird stuff to embarrass the bride, but the Princess has her reputation to protect. So we’re having a little sleepover party for the bridal party and six little girls who get to join us. Maybe we should sneak you in, Shelley? The girls would have loads of fun playing with your gorgeous hair!”

“No way!” I said and was rescued when Tina and a couple other servants from the kitchen brought in our lunch. They served us each a luncheon of bacon-wrapped prawns, steamed broccoli and a small salad with a bottle of Silkman Blackberry Semillon. We paused the discussion and nibbled on the food, which was delicious although the portions were obviously sized to protect the waistline.

Matilda resumed the discussion after we poured another glass of Semillon. “Rupert and Daddy fly in Thursday afternoon, the lazy sods, and we have the first big photo-op. Half the paparazzi in Australia will be there to catch the Princess welcoming her fiancée. That night there’s a big dinner with both families.

“There’s a party in the castle garden at 11 on Friday. Then we skip that at 2 to go to the cathedral for the rehearsal. And, of course, there’s the rehearsal dinner on Friday night. Then all the ladies start getting prepped on Saturday morning, we adjourn to the cathedral at 1 and start the show at 2. And Saturday night at 7, there will be a ball here at the palace. Sometime later that night, Rupert and Bridget will disappear and the rest of us can relax a little.”

Bridget commented. “I tried to talk Rupert into letting you be one of the groomsmen, but he was already having trouble choosing among his friends. But would you please be my special assistant on Saturday? There’s bound to be something come up that needs a reliable person to sort out.”

“Of course,” I replied. “Anything I can do to help.”

“For a start,” said Matilda, “both of you take off your shoes, stand up side by side, and let me get a good look at you. Bridget, would you brush out his hair?” So I sat at the table while Bridget sprayed something on my hair and brushed it for a few minutes. Then we stood up by the wall.
“Amazing! Bridget told me you two looked a lot alike, but you could almost be twins. Come over and look in the mirror.” So we walked across the room and looked at each other. I was about a centimeter taller than Bridget and an extra kilo or two, but we had somehow inherited the same slightly long nose, oval face and a soft chin with a dimple. Having my hair brushed out like Bridget’s enhanced the resemblance. We just stood and stared at the mirror for a minute. Then the mood was broken by a knock on the door.

“Miss Bridget, it’s almost time for your afternoon meeting.” Tina called from the hallway.

So Bridget and Tina gathered a few things and departed for the elevator while I returned to my suite.

“Charles,” I asked. “Could you please find me an exercise mat? I’m going to walk around the hall for a bit and I’d like to do some exercises when I get back.”

“I’m sure I can do that. Where will you be walking?”

“I’ll just stay on this floor and not bother anyone. You won’t need to tag along.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll see you when you finish.”

So Charles left and I changed into a t-shirt and shorts with some running shoes and started walking around the hall. I took it easy for the first couple of trips, then picked up the pace as the hall seemed to be clear of traffic. After a dozen circuits, I returned to the suite where Charles had arranged the mat in front of a large screen television.

“Thank you, Charles. Please stay back. I’ll be moving around quite a bit.”

I picked up Mister Bollocks, walked to one end of the mat, and grasped the walking stick in a two-handed sword hold. Then I moved through a series of katas, advancing in cuts and thrusts mixed with possible parries. I worked back and forth, sometimes attacking, sometimes retreating and parrying for about half an hour. Then I stepped to one end of the mat, spread my hands on the walking stick, and gave a medium bow to my imagined opponent.

Charles took that moment to give a brief applause. “That was excellent, sir. “Where did you learn that?”

“Thanks, Charles. I got involved when we moved to Southland and kept it up through high school. I also took a couple classes at the university, but mostly just do it for exercise now.”

“Well, I would not want to cause you any trouble on an outing with that walking stick around!”

“You’re right, Charles! But I need to clean up and get some rest before dinner.”

Chapter 4

Charles woke me at about 6:00, and helped me prepare for dinner. We joined Bridget and Matilda and Charles and Tina accompanied us down in the elevator. We went into a medium sized dining room where we were greeted by two men and a woman. I immediately recognized the woman and she reached out her arms.

“Come give me a hug, Shelley. You’ve grown a bit.” I immediately did so and with much affection because she was Mildred Stone, who had practically raised both Bridget and me after both our mothers had died when we were just starting school.

One of the men, of course, was Prince Harold and Mildred released me to greet him.

“Welcome back, Shelley,” he said. “The castle hasn’t been quite the same without you. Let me introduce my executive assistant, Peter Robinson. He hasn’t had to take a bullet yet, but he does practically everything else for me.” Peter and I shook hands, then the Prince led us to one of the two tables. Peter joined Mildred, Charles and Tina at the other.

Dinner was lemon poached sea bass with a Tamburlaine Riesling. We chatted about my work in Adelaide, problems with invasive species, and prospects for the Southland and New Venda teams in the Greater Australian Economic Union (GAEU) rugby and basketball leagues. After about an hour of very pleasant company, Bridget interrupted.

“Daddy, would you please excuse us? I want to take Shelley upstairs to catch the sunset.”

Prince Harold stood up and gave her a hug. “OK, kiddo. Go upstairs and have your fun.”

So Bridget, Matilda and I excused ourselves and headed for the elevator with Charles and Tina in tow. We went past our rooms and about halfway down the hallway where Bridget waved her badge over a small panel and pushed a button. A staircase folded down out of the loft area and the five of us carefully climbed up into the loft. Looking around, it was mostly industrial with HVAC ducting and cables running all around the castle above insulation that had been laid down between the boards that supported and reinforced the ceiling below us. But there was a central walkway where plywood panels had been placed over the studs to allow easier passage for workers. And above our rooms in the southeast corner, where the light from an east-facing window would shine in, were two more paneled areas with a low plywood wall on three sides.

“No stopping to check out your old toys, Shelley!” Bridget admonished. We need to hurry or we’ll miss the sunset.” We turned the corner and walked toward the southwest corner of the castle where a west-facing window showed a glowing red sun in the distance. When we got to the window, we could see to the south and north as well. The extra story of height gave us a wider view around the city and out into the countryside. A shallow river, barely more than a stream at its mid-summer low, flowed south of us through the middle of town. And we could see two railroads. One headed upward to the west to go back to Adelaide. The other ran north towards Brisbane, the capital of Norstrilia.

‘It’s a beautiful sunset’ I signed to Bridget.

‘I love the view from up here’ she signed back.

“What are you two doing,” asked Matilda.

“It’s sign language, Tillie. Shelley and I used it when were kids and didn’t want the staff to know what we were up to.”

“And what were you two up to then?”

“Oh nothing much. Sometimes sneaking out of the library to try to get an extra horseback ride, or slipping into the kitchen to steal some cookies.”

“I’ll bet!” Matilda snorted. But she grinned at us both.

We relaxed and enjoyed the view, watching children riding bikes on some of the residential streets or playing football in a park. Eventually the sun dropped below the horizon and we let the twilight illuminate the walkway back to the staircase.

We hugged each other good night outside Bridget’s suite, then Matilda and I returned to our rooms for the night.

As I settled into bed, I thought about how much I had missed Bridget over the years, and how being back in the castle felt like a true homecoming.

Sometime during the night I dreamed. I was playing in a field and my mother walked over to me. Two lambs were following her. “Shelley, these lambs have been bad and gotten into the stickers. Take this comb and pick the burrs out of their wool.” She told me. I took a steel comb and wrapped my arm around one lamb and started to comb out a few of the burrs that were stuck to it. But I drifted off before I could make much progress.

Later I woke up. I wondered if something had disturbed me, so I relaxed in bed and listened carefully. But I didn’t hear any sounds except my own breathing. Eventually I heard the long whistle of a train on one of the rail lines. I relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

I heard a loud knocking on the door. “Mister Shelley, wake up, wake up!” Charles called.

“OK, OK, I’m getting up,” I replied. I grabbed a robe and walked to the door to let him in.

Charles wrapped the robe around me and led me next door to Matilda’s suite. Tina gave me a tight hug and opened the door. “Go on in,” she said. “They are waiting for you.”

I entered the room and saw Prince Harold and Peter sitting at the table with Matilda. Tina closed the door behind me and stayed in the hall with Charles.

“Please sit down, Shelley. We have an emergency and I need to ask for your help.”

“Whatever you wish, your highness.” I said as I pulled out a chair.

“It’s not quite that simple,” he replied then gave me a long and thorough look. Then he turned towards Matilda and told her, “you were right, Matilda, this might just work.”

Then he faced me and I could see deep concern and even a smudge on his face.

“I remember you and Bridget playing together as children here in the castle. I miss those days, especially at times like this. I need your help and New Venda needs your help. Sometime last night, Princess Bridget was abducted from her bedroom.

Footnote:
The idea for this story came to me when I was researching the geography and wine regions of Australia. I saw a region(?) labeled Venda and started thinking of a plot. So, of course, when I dug into Google to check the geography, I couldn't find anything about Venda in Australia!

I borrowed the name Norstrilia from Cordwainer Smith, but otherwise this story has no connection to his wonderful stories.

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Comments

When I saw...

Mantori's picture

... the title I thought this was going to be a story based in South Africa being that I live in SA. Because here we have a Black tribe called the Venda.

And there used to be a part of the country that was called Venda Land. They have their own language, one of the 13 national languages of RSA.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venda

Interesting.

"Life in general is a fuck up,
but it is the rare moments of beauty and peace
in between the chaos,
That makes it worth living."
- Tertia Hill

Thanks for the input

gillian1968's picture

It's good to know that. I'd love to get over there someday. My aunt lived in Zambia for many years but that was quite a while ago.

I also saw links for wines from Italy and, I think, Portugal.

But I just picked it as a fictional location name.

I hope you enjoy the rest when I get it out.

Gillian Cairns