The Girl with No Name Ch. 29

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When the weather started to warm up towards the end of March, Danka wrote note to Zánktia informing her handlers that they would have to find her another assignment. There was no way she would tolerate staying with the nuns over the summer. She expected the answer to be no; that she'd have to stay in the house indefinitely. However, on the final day of March, an official from the Vice-Duke's palace showed up with Sister Zánktia. He ordered the scribes from the residence to line up and for each to hold a sample of her writing in front of her. Danka's handwriting was not the best from the group, but her face caught the official's attention. He looked her over and asked her some questions about her background. She responded with a fictional biography given to her by her handlers, that she was daughter of a devout guildsman from Novo Sókukt Tók.

The official violated protocol by pulling off her hat to have a better look at her head and braided hair. The other nuns quietly gasped and flinched at the act of disrespect.

"It's a pity you'd waste your beauty like this."

Danka pretended to be extremely nervous, but inwardly she was concealing hope that her intolerable life was about to change. The fact that Zánktia was with the official raised her anticipation of a transfer or change of assignment. The official quietly spoke to the leader of the residence. She cast a suspicious look at her young subordinate, but nodded and put her hands together in prayer. The official motioned Danka to follow him.

Danka left the residence without going back inside or even saying goodbye to anyone. She kept no belongings in her room and the few items she did have with her, such a small supply of blue powder, the ingredients for making birth-control paste, her comb, and the thread for cleaning her teeth were safely stored in special pockets she had sewn into the lining of her dress. She had not seen her bucket since November: she could only hope it was still at the safe-house.

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The official and the two "nuns" walked the short distance between the scribes' residence and the entrance to the Vice-Duke's palace. Parts of the palace exterior had been within Danka's range of view throughout the entire winter, but she never had set foot inside. The day was grim, rainy, and overcast, but Danka could feel a hint, just a hint, of spring in the air.

Danka's escorts led her through the outer door of the palace into the most luxurious room she had ever seen. The decor was Baroque and modeled after a palace in France. Expensive-looking vases imported from China sat on equally-fancy tables. The corridors were filled with paintings and statues, including multiple busts of the Vice-Duke.

Beyond the main entrance and reception area a large set of glass doors opened up into a finely-trimmed garden. The grounds were meticulously maintained, much more so than in the Grand Duke's castle. Actually, the Grand Duke's residence, as luxurious as it was to a person with Danka's upbringing, was Spartan compared to the abode of the Vice-Duke. As she looked around at all the statues and imported decor, she wondered how much money the Vice-Duke was spending on his residence. After seeing the interior of the palace, it wasn't hard to understand why taxes were such a problem for the Vice-Duchy's farmers and guildsmen.

The main section of the palace boasted a large round ballroom covered by a dome painted with angels flying around in puffy clouds. The area under the dome was surrounded by marble pillars and stain-glass windows. Portraits of the Vice-Duke and his family members covered the walls and statues stood in front of each pillar. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Danka was no connoisseur concerning decor, but compared with the somewhat simpler furnishings of the Grand Duke, she felt the palace in Rika Chorna was decorated in poor taste.

The exaggerated decor did not draw Danka's attention nearly as much as how the palace women were dressed. To a Danubian, especially a lower-class woman like Danka, the palace clothes were truly shocking and scandalous. The wives of the Grand Duke and his advisors boasted impossibly heavy and complicated silk dresses imported from France. Like all Danubian women, the palace residents wore their hair in braids, but those braids were covered by over-sized wigs. Seven years before, Danka had seen some fashionable European clothing when she traveled north of the Danubian border with the Followers, but to see such exaggerated get-ups in the Duchy itself was a shock. Danka later found out the elite women did not dare go out on the street in their foreign outfits, but the palace had unique protocol and any respectable woman had to wear French clothes while inside to distinguish herself from the "uncouth" commoners outside.

The group approached the area where the Vice-Duke had his conference rooms and living quarters. They entered a luxurious reception area that was smaller than the outer reception area, but still large and ostentatious. The area was comfortably warm, heated by the cave-charcoal stoves Danka had introduced to the Grand Duke a few years before. There were several guards in the room, along with a group of noblewomen and a couple of advisors holding rolled-up documents. Danka had never seen a picture of Vice-Duchy's ruler and thus not sure what he looked like. However, in a palace full over over-dressed people he stood out, wearing an outlandish silk outfit covered with lace and jewels, topped with a cape made of imported white fur. His head was properly shaved, but Danka had no way of knowing that because the ruler wore an enormous white wig. On top of the wig he wore a crown so full of jewels that one could barely see the gold or silk underneath. With him were three effeminate-looking teenaged boys wearing equally effeminate clothing. One of the boys was carrying a falcon with its head covered by a tiny hood. Danka correctly assumed the teenagers were the Vice-Duke's sons.

As she approached the Vice-Duke and the boys (if that's what one chose to call them), she tried to make sense of the bizarre spectacle in front of her. It was very fortunate that she already had seen pictures of late eighteenth-century western European royalty, so she understood the Vice-Duke and the members of his entourage were attempting to model themselves after elite fashion in places like Paris. Obviously the eastern nobility viewed traditional Danubian culture as primitive and uncouth. Perhaps they had to live in that inferior culture, but that didn't mean they had to sink to the simplistic and uncivilized behavior of their subjects. The entire set-up would have been more pathetic than offensive, had it not been for the crushing taxes the farmers and guildsmen had to pay to maintain it.

The official saluted the Vice Duke and his sons while the two "nuns" knelt and clasped their hands together in prayer. The boys were leering at Danka. As soon as the official explained that a new scribe had been brought from the local nuns' house, the ruler told the two women to stand up. He examined younger nun.

"Her face is very pretty. Let me see the rest of her."

The official turned to Zánktia: "Strip her. Remove that habit and whatever she's wearing underneath."

Danka's companion froze, unsure that she had heard the command correctly. Her eyes went wide and she glanced around the room, noting there were a dozen other people present. When she opened her mouth to object, the official slapped her hard across the face. The blow was so hard and so unexpected she fell to the ground. The official kicked her to get up.

"What's wrong with you, nun? Are you stupid or just rebellious? I told you to strip that girl! Now do it!"

Danka could tell Zánktia was as shocked as she was, that she had not expected to have to strip her. Reluctantly, with trembling hands, the other woman unfastened the hooks holding Danka's collar in place and lifted her outer dress over her shoulders and head. She untied the stays of her inner dress and let it fall to the floor. Danka was terrified, but not in the way a normal nun would have been. She was not bothered being naked in front of others, but obviously in the Vice-Duchy being publicly stripped, especially for a nun, was meant to be a major humiliation. Had she been in the western valley she simply would have stood straight, with her eyes facing forward and her hands at her sides. However, in Rika Chorna she knew that she needed to behave like a real True Believers nun would act under the circumstances. She cowered and tried to cover herself, and even forced tears to come to her eyes. The official yelled at her and slapped her several times before she "managed" to stand straight and uncover herself. Keeping up the façade of unbearable shame, she closed her eyes, clenched her fists, and pressed her legs together. She felt a hand fondling her breasts and heard the Vice-Duke's voice.

"Very nice. Very nice indeed. Yes, she'll do. She's very young and her bosom is firm. You did well, Sister, to bring her to me."

"To hear is to obey, your Excellency."

The Vice Duke further humiliated Danka by ordering her to assume the "prisoner's stance", standing with her feet spread and her hands clasped behind her head. He ordered Zánktia to kneel while she neatly folded Danka's dress and under-dress so she could take them out of the palace. For the time that she served in the Vice Duke's residence, Danka would be kept completely naked. The boys continued leering at her as the other women approached. The over-dressed noblewomen surrounded the naked newcomer and the kneeling nun, quietly whispering comments meant to be overheard and meant to embarrass the two churchwomen. Danka wondered how on earth the Vice-Duke could get away with so badly mistreating nuns, but she later learned he was free to take liberties with the women because he supported the True Believers' policies and was generous to the Bishop with his tax revenues.

The Vice-Duke dismissed Zánktia and ordered Danka to follow him through another set of doors into the inner palace. She passed a library where two naked scribes were copying letters, and another room where an advisor was dictating a speech to another naked scribe. He clapped his hands and a naked woman rushed out and knelt at his feet. Danka noticed she had a large number "1" written in ink on her right shoulder.

"A newcomer. Clean her up and put her to work."

"To hear is to obey, your Excellency."

The Vice-Duke was ready to dismiss Danka, but one of his sons wanted to fondle her. He granted permission and Danka was ordered to bend over and grab her ankles. The teenager spent several minutes caressing the newest scribe's bottom and thighs. He then started spanking her. He spent a long time slapping her backside, slowly turning it pink. The punishment was humiliating, but the boy was not hitting her hard at all. She said nothing, wondering if he was just playing with her or if he really was not very strong. When the teenager finished, the kneeling woman whispered to Danka to kneel next to her. Then she whispered:

"You need to thank the prince for correcting your arrogance. Thank him, kiss his shoes, and thank him again."

Danka did as she was told. She put her hands together in prayer, stated: "Thank you, my Prince, for correcting my arrogance", knelt forward to kiss his shoes, and repeated the phrase. Satisfied they had sufficiently humiliated their newest servant, the Vice-Duke, his sons, and their escort left the two women and returned to the ballroom.

As soon as the door closed, the woman stood up and ordered Danka to follow her to washroom. She introduced herself as Scribe # 1 and told Danka that she would be known as Scribe # 8. "That is now your name. Scribe # 8. No one here is interested in whatever name you were using when you came in. You're Scribe # 8."

As the newcomer sat in a bathtub, Scribe # 1 unbraided and washed Scribe # 8's hair. While they waited for her hair to dry so it could be re-braided, Scribe # 1 explained what was going on. Like Danka, she had come to the palace as a nun. There were 10 scribes at any time, and all except one had been a nun prior to their internment in the palace. The Vice-Duke preferred having nuns as palace scribes because they were clean, obedient, had the best penmanship, and most of all, were fun to embarrass by forcing them to be naked. The forced nudity totally humiliated them as women and made them understand how inferior they were to anyone else in the inner palace. There was a more practical purpose as well, to make sure the scribes couldn't try to escape or conceal anything they were carrying.

After the newcomer was cleaned up, Scribe #1 picked up a quill and inkwell and carefully drew a large number "8" on Danka's shoulder. The two scribes then reported to a room full of books, detailed maps of various localities in the eastern valley, and ledgers that Danka quickly learned were tax records. Two unpleasant-looking men were in the room. Like everyone else in the palace, they wore foreign instead of Danubian clothing, but at least their outfits were not nearly as outlandish as those worn by the nobility.

The two women knelt as the leading scribe introduced Scribe # 8. The men ordered the two women to copy a series of letters and records describing the trial and execution of two farmers for tax evasion and the eviction of a couple of neighbors suspected of helping them. Throughout the rest of the day the two scribes would be copying similar correspondence, and in doing so Danka would quickly learn about the inner workings of the Vice-Duchy's government. It seemed the Vice-Duchy's operations centered upon collecting as many taxes as possible; that almost all of the guards' activities in some way were focused on seizing revenue. The Vice-Duke re-distributed funds to his favorites and more importantly, the True Believers' Church hierarchy. Most of the remaining wealth went into maintaining the palace and purchasing imported luxuries. Danka already had noticed the eastern part of the Duchy seemed much poorer than the western part, and now she knew why. The Vice-Duke was not spending any of his wealth on the public's education or infrastructure improvements.

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At the end of her first day, the ten scribes ate a silent dinner together. After the women cleaned their teeth, Scribe # 1 escorted the newcomer to the washroom. The scribes bathed in pairs in a special washroom that contained not only a small tub and a stove for heating water, but also a row of comfortable-looking chairs. The tub was too small to sit in and had a bar hanging over it. After she and Scribe # 1 relieved themselves in the privy, Danka found out why the washroom was set up in such a manner. Several men and boys dressed in fancy imported clothing came in and sat in the chairs. It turned out that the scribes had to take turns washing each other in front of an audience. She had to hold onto the bar and face her audience while her partner soaped and massaged her body. That soaping included her vulva. In front of a group of males, the scribes were required to clean and massage each other's bottoms and vaginas. It was a gross violation of protocol meant to express domination over the women, in the same way the Grand Duke forced his concubines to keep their hair unbraided.

Danka was used to enduring a lot of different indignities, but the bathing performance was something new. Scribe # 1 not only had to run her hands all over Scribe # 8's bottom and pubic hair, but she also was required to push a soap-covered finger deep into her companion's vagina and sphincter, "to make sure she was absolutely clean". The women switched places and Danka had to bathe Scribe # 1. When Danka soaped her companion's vulva and pushed her finger inside, she noticed tears running down her face. After having been in the palace for nearly a year, Scribe # 1 still could not suffer such humiliating treatment in public without crying. After finishing their bath and drying off, the two scribes had to present themselves to their audience. They had to turn around and bend over to allow the men to fondle and caress their bottoms and legs. When the treatment was finally over and the audience left, Scribes # 1 and # 8 cleaned up the bathroom and brought in several buckets of fresh water. The next show would be in an hour, featuring Scribes # 4 and # 6. Scribe # 1's eyes were still full of tears. She commented:

"We were lucky today. Sometimes they make us... do unspeakable things in there."

As they walked down the hallway, Danka thought about asking her companion for more detail, but figured she'd find out soon enough about the "unspeakable things". Instead, another question came into her mind.

"Does His Excellency ever... take liberties with us?"

"No. He has a couple of finely dressed mistresses running about. Those two (and the Vice-Duchess) keep him busy. We're not nobility, so we're not worth his trouble. I guess that's fortunate. Besides, we're churchwomen and we're supposed to be chaste."

"Chaste? After what we did in the washroom?"

"The men in the palace can't use us as women. That's the agreement His Excellency has with the Bishop. So, our 'chastity' is safeguarded. But, in every other way possible, they enjoy dishonoring us and mocking us."

The scribes entered their sleeping quarters. The room was not heated, but it had five very comfortable beds surrounded by curtains. The scribes slept in pairs. Danka's suspicions about the arrangement were confirmed when she heard faint moans from behind the curtains of one of the beds. Scribe # 1 opened the curtains to an empty bed and motioned the newcomer to pull down the covers and get in. Danka reluctantly obeyed. Scribe # 1 followed her in and closed the curtains.

"When I told you we have to do 'unspeakable things' to each other, did you understand what I meant by that?"

"Yes."

"You're lucky, because I didn't. Anyhow, it's best that you practice and accustom yourself to doing what they want. They'll whip you and put you on the pillory, the one in the city's main plaza, if you don't. That's how I spent my second day here, on the pillory. It was cold outside and I nearly froze to death. The only reason I didn't was that a guard took pity on me and set up a brazier of cave charcoal underneath me, to keep me warm enough to stay alive."

Danka said nothing, but she had a flashback of the horrid hours she spent on the pillory almost a decade before. The experience was one that a person never forgot. And hers was during the summer. She didn't want to imagine what spending a day on the pillory would be like if the weather wasn't warm. Scribe # 1 changed the subject:

"I have seniority over you. I expect you to obey me and do anything I ask of you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. Then I need you to rub my body. That includes the area between my legs. I'll tell you when I want anything more."

Danka knew how to give a sensual massage to another woman because of the time she spent with Antonia. She also knew how to give a massage that relaxed a partner and was likely to put her to sleep. She applied that experience while massaging Scribe # 1 and had her unconscious within a few minutes. She exhaled a huge sigh of relief when her companion's breathing changed to that of a sleeping person. At least that night she'd be spared from having to do "unspeakable things" with her.

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No one from Ernockt's group had yet contacted Danka about her situation, but starting on the second day she decided to begin taking notes and making summaries of tax collectors' correspondence, reports from the guards, and any other papers she could look at and understand. No one in the palace seemed to notice or care about what she was doing. The other scribes were too mortified at their own nudity to pay attention to anything other than their own duties, while the members of the palace entourage were too self-absorbed with fashion and personal intrigues to suspect a nun recruited as a female scribe might be part of a conspiracy against them. So, Danka spent all of her spare time working on her notes and by the end of the first week had assembled ten pages of information written on scrap pages of parchment. As always, she wrote in the tiniest script her quill would allow and thought about how she might invent a system of code or shorthand to further conserve space. As for hiding the papers, there was no need to worry about that at all. Scribe # 1 had issued a portfolio to hold her unmarked parchment, drafts, and practice writings, so she simply carried the collected information with her other notes. If anyone examined them and asked her what they were, she'd simply say she was teaching herself to write in small script and the pages were for practice.