They passed by a group of guards, picturesquely stationed along a parapet. Casting a wary glance at them, Senia discovered that the young men were not chatting away as they usually did. Instead, they all stood with their backs facing the embankment and their hands held to their mouths; from time to time they trembled strangely, as if they were all suddenly stricken by one and the same ailment.
“What’s wrong with them?” she wondered to Bertina.
But Bertina merely shook her head sorrowfully and shrugged her shoulders.
Anxiously shifting his gaze from the guards to his sister and then from his sister to Senia, Karver spoke suddenly in a lowered voice. “Ah, believe me, there is such a strong tradition of debauchery in this city! Bertina is an innocent girl; it is so hard to choose friends for her when one is wary of all the pernicious influences. Oh, how good it would be if Bertina could become friends with Mistress Senia.”
With these last words, a sigh slipped out of him.
The foursome turned and began to walk on the opposite side of the embankment; the guards on the parapet were now fewer, but those who remained stubbornly watched the river: all but one who was sitting squarely on the cobblestone pavement and having some sort of fit.
“They’re drunk, as usual,” Karver noted in condemnation. The one who was sitting raised his clouded eyes and then doubled over, unable to control the laughter that pulled at his chest.
On the following day, Karver and his sister called upon Vapa. Bertina confessed to Senia that she did not know a thing about embroidering silk.
On the third day, Senia, who was intolerably bored from whiling away her days in solitude, asked her husband to allow her to meet with Bertina more often: this would undoubtedly amuse them both, and furthermore Karver’s sister had asked Senia to give her lessons in embroidery.
On the fourth day, Bertina presented herself. She was guarded by her faithful brother, who was unaccountably sullen, and as soon as he had greeted them and deposited his sister, he bowed his apologies and left. The merchant sat down to go over his accounts while Senia led her guest upstairs to her own rooms.
A canary chirped in an ornamental cage. Needles and delicate linen were extracted from a basket. Bertina’s fingers, far too stiff and coarse, refused to comply with the task, but the girl seemed to be trying her best.
“Dearest,” said Senia thoughtfully in the middle of the lesson, “is it really true that you are completely innocent?”
Bertina pricked herself with a needle and put her finger in her mouth.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Senia smiled. “It seems to me that we can be completely open with each other. So are you really, well, you know what I mean?”
Bertina raised her gray eyes to Senia, who saw with amazement that those eyes were unimaginably sorrowful. “Ah, Senia, that is such a sad tale.”
“I thought as much!” the wife of Vapa exclaimed. “He seduced you and then dropped you, didn’t he?”
Bertina shook her head and again sighed heavily.
The room was silent for a short time and then from the street came the sound of friendly laughter from two dozen young throats.
“The guards,” Senia muttered, going to the window. “They are laughing again. What are they always laughing for?”
Bertina let out a sob.
Senia turned away from the window and sat next to her. “I see. Was he, your beloved, was he a guard?”
“If only,” whispered Bertina. “The guards are tender and honorable, the guards are faithful and manly, the guards…”
Senia pursed her lips incredulously. “I highly doubt the guards are faithful. I think it is more likely that your beloved is called Egert Soll, isn’t that so?”
Bertina jumped slightly on the cushions. The room again became quiet.
“Dear one,” began Senia in a whisper, “you know you can tell me. Have you ever experienced, well, you know, they say that women can also experience, um, pleasure. Do you understand what I mean?” Senia blushed; such candor made her uneasy.
Bertina again raised her eyes, but this time they were astonished. “But, my dear, you’re married!”
“Yes, that’s just it!” Senia abruptly stood up, entirely out of humor. Forcing the words out between her teeth, she said, “I am married. So I am.”
Her guest slowly set aside her embroidery.
Their conversation went on for about an hour. Bertina talked and talked, but her voice never gave out: on the contrary, it discovered an almost musical quality as she progressed. She closed her eyes and tenderly stroked the back of the chair; she practically cooed at one point. Senia, unable to move, stared at her with widened eyes; she could only breathe and from time to time lick her parched lips.
“And all that really happens?” she asked finally in a shaking, choked-up voice.
Bertina slowly, solemnly nodded.
“And I’ll never experience it?” Senia murmured, paralyzed by distress.
Bertina stood up. She took a deep breath as if she were planning to plunge into cold water. She tugged at the front of her dress, and two round, padded sacks fell, one after the other, onto the floor.
Senia’s breath caught in her throat, and she could not scream.
The dress slid from Bertina like skin from a snake. Muscular shoulders, a wide chest covered in curly hair, and a stomach with well-defined ridges of muscle were revealed from beneath the dress.
When the dress slipped even lower, Senia covered her eyes with her hands.
“If you scream,” whispered the voice of the man who had been Bertina, “your very own husband will…”
Senia did not hear the rest; she simply fainted.
Of course, Egert would not take advantage of the helplessness of a languishing woman. Of course, he quickly managed to bring Senia back to consciousness. And of course, their confidential conversation quickly resumed, though it was now of a decidedly different quality.
“You promise?” asked Senia, shaking from head to toe.
“Upon my word as a guard.”
“You! You’re a guard?”
“How can you ask! I’m Egert Soll!”
“But—”
“Only with your consent.”
“But—”
“One word, and I’ll go.”
“But—”
“Should I go?”
“No!”
On the first floor, the merchant Vapa was frowning angrily; his accounts just would not add up. The two dozen guards standing below the windows of his home got bored and decided to wander off.
The needlework basket had long since tumbled to the floor, spilling colorful tangles of thread. The caged canary was silent, astonished.
“Oh. Glorious Heaven!” gasped Senia, embracing Egert’s neck with her arms. He was silent; he no longer had the ability to speak.
The poor little bird was beginning to get frightened. Its cage, which hung over the bed, was swaying, rhythmically and vigorously. An ancient clock emitted a majestic series of chimes, and then it did so yet again, and again.
“Oh! Good Spirits! Glorious Heaven!” Senia did not know to whom else to pray; she was almost ready to burst from trying not to cry out at the top of her lungs.
The merchant Vapa rubbed his hands contentedly: the mistakes had been corrected, and a careless scribe would soon lose his position. And how good it was that Senia had become friends with the sister of Lord Karver! For a whole day she had been neither seen nor heard; she did not fidget in front of him, or pester him, or ask to go out walking. The merchant smirked suddenly, thinking he might even have time to go out and visit his mistress.