by Alston Sleet
I had spent months upon arriving in Gerthak creating a subtle rumor of a romance in the lands of Turmin; a man abandoned after traveling to Gerthak. Then I spent more money acting to mostly suppress the rumor. Sasha’s idea had been that any rumor suppressed so carefully couldn’t be a ruse in itself.
“What will this favor cost me?” it was all I could ask. I was in her power and nothing I could do would save me. Without Sasha I would be lost, I would kill as many of her House as I could if she took her from me, but in the end, I still would lose her.
I could hear the humor in her voice as she answered, “Nothing. Providing this favor to you will also solve a problem of mine. We will both benefit and your goodwill in this shall act to turn you in my favor in the future. Our future is bright with mutual advantage. Remember the third rule.”
The third rule, all nobles are taught the rules of conduct. The third rule is simple. Help others to do the things you want them to do when they already want to do it. The early training of this rule is about putting others at ease when they are trying to be polite to you, helping provide gift ideas that help another shine and so on. Later training extends the idea into manipulation and spy-craft, causing a feeling of indebtedness for assistance doing things the target will be doing anyways.
A manipulation which works even as the target recognizes the manipulation is masterful since it still works.
“Your husband thanks the servants who bring him food.”
The non-sequitur momentarily derailed my thoughts. I didn’t understand, I understood the words but the implication -the plan my husband must have for his strange action- I just couldn’t see it.
“Twice I have instructed servants to fail to collect the dishes from breakfast in his room. Each time he has carried them to the kitchen himself without complaint.”
Again, I was left befuddled. His actions made no sense, but then they couldn’t be part of a plan since Delana had directed the servants to fail to collect the dishes. Even if a plan existed, he would have to be taking advantage of coincidence instead of instigating the plan. How his actions could gain him anything, I just couldn’t see it.
“Your husband doesn’t exist in our culture. I’m not sure if he understands why we do any of the things we do. He is as foreign to us as the silks of Samsha. I have observed him closely. I doubt he understands the concept of rank, or title, of commoners, of nobles, or of merchant Houses. He doesn’t even consider you to be beneath him.”
I could see Delana’s smile widen as the horror of her words overcame me. If he didn’t understand his position or mine, then the little protection I had was gone. I couldn’t trust him to react in any way I could predict. I had no plan to manipulate him, no direction to drive him, and now I had no stick or sweets to even change his direction.
“I have made an agreement with him,” the emphasis on the ‘I’ underlining that the trade was with her personally and not her through her husband.
Again, my horror deepened. He openly made an agreement with Delana? His standing would degrade and with him, my standing would shrink as well. I felt like I was weathering a storm in a house made of sand, it was wearing away and nothing I could do would shore it up.
“You will teach him about our culture. You will educate him on what gestures, behaviors, and plots mean and how they will affect him and you. The favor will be that educating him will show you that you can have your Sasha, that your love is safe and your standing will rise with your husbands. He doesn’t see you as a prize. He does not see you as someone to ravish and control. He sees you as a victim of his own carelessness. He feels a debt to you.”
Despite all my training, I felt my mouth simply hanging open, trying to grasp words to understand her speech.
“Tomorrow, your husband will come to the library to learn about your homeland and his place in it, you will be there to educate him.”
With those words, the Mistress of the house, The Ralk of Gerthak, left my room.
Chapter 16
Nooner.
It had been twelve days since Delana had instructed me that I would have my culture teacher ‘within the month’, yet I still didn’t know who would be educating me. Every time I had seen Delana she had adroitly passed me off to others and had managed to always have someone near; I took the original lesson to heart and would not discuss our deal in front of others.
The worst part of it was that I’m certain that she was doing it on purpose. The slight smirk on her lip said that this was some kind of lesson and that I was being educated. My guess was about the power women had in this culture, a subtle and flexible power unlike the brute force apparently owned by the men, but a power none the less.
Routinely she manipulated me in precise ways.
Servants arriving slightly late with food leaving me to travel to the dungeon alone when oh so casually a guard walks along and points out some shop for a new sword. I would then find a belt and scabbard ready for me on my return to my room to drop off my old weapon. It wasn’t difficult to prepare these kinds of manipulations but the point she was making was obvious. She could push me around at will, perhaps only in small ways, perhaps not. I’m still not sure how she knew which sword I would select and then have a scabbard which matched it perfectly. A subtle message in that as well I’m sure.
After the third example of this kind of manipulation, blatantly shown to be manipulations after the fact even as I know I had missed them at the time, I was finding myself more aware of changes in routine and the household. Minor changes could have huge effects on others and Delana was apparently the master of these effects. Her household was like a musical instrument she played for maximum effect. I couldn’t help thinking that if she had been made a general she would have decimated the enemy. While I was impressed with her skill, I found myself feeling her talents as being wasted working in such indirect ways.
Near midday of one of my rest days, a servant informed me that my requested light luncheon had been served in the library. This wasn’t a manipulation -I had never had a luncheon served anywhere else before- in fact, this was the first luncheon I had been served. Lunch apparently was eaten at restaurants, it was a time to socialize or just skipped. This was a command, an instruction given directly to me in the form of ‘my’ ordered lunch. This allowed the servant to deliver the message without the servant knowing the message was being delivered. Delana just had to say I had ordered a lunch in the library and I would know that she was directing me.
By this point, I was wondering if Delana thought I was as slow as I had previously been oblivious. The repeated examples were no longer required; I got it. I need a tutor, learn quickly, manipulate back.
I would never have guessed that this room would be the library. One shelf of hard leather bound books, polished dark wood floors, lightly patterned chairs. One wall was set with many small glass windows with a large single pane of glass for the ceiling. The skylight was the real centerpiece of the room and I would have called it a solarium myself, but the relative cost of the books probably dictate the naming scheme.
A small table near one of the chairs had tiny snack foods prepared with a tea set. I was just about to pour a cup for myself when Seren entered the room.
With a small bow, she straightened then gestured -a strange partially closed handed thing- at the food, and said gently “Your first lesson” then turned her body toward the door and bent slightly. It was obvious she wanted me to gather up the food and follow her. I felt a bit put out but grabbing the plate I turned to find her quickly hustling out the door and back towards our rooms. The open door of her room indicated I was to follow her in.
Seren was seated at a large table, facing towards the door, her position was gently leaning, one arm on the arm of her chair. Apparently, perfect posture wasn’t an important thing here since I had never seen her less than correctly arranged and this setup screamed ‘formal’ so this was probably some kind of formal position…or a manipulation…or I was starting to read too far into things.
Without more context I really couldn’t know, that was becoming more blatantly clear as time went on.
With a regal gesture Seren pointed at my seat, I placed the dish on the table between us, grabbed my chair, and prepared for my education. I’m not sure what my first lesson entailed, but I hoped it didn’t continue being jerked around from room to room like this. Her gentle commanding gestures and heavy-handed behavior would get old quick, I needed a tutor and I felt sorry for her, but I wouldn’t let this kind of rudeness go on forever.
The moment I sat Seren leaned forward and exclaimed, “It’s true. You really don’t understand do you?”
Again, I felt my temper starting to boil over, “Do you know the capital of Oregon? Of course not. Whatever I don’t understand, it’s because I’ve never been exposed to it. I’m willing to learn but the games you two are playing are starting to get old.”
Seren nodded quickly, “Delana has played me masterfully as well. I’m a handle on your behavior, she has a handle on me, and with both of us House Delsar can use my continued goodwill to work on my father.”
Yet another ingredient to the stew. Her father? I hadn’t even considered her family or how they would take things with this marriage. Seren was apparently completely unaware of the King and how he factored into things.
“First, the lesson. What did you think I was trying to teach you?”
I was stumped, I could guess something about her gesture, maybe her preparing and controlling the presentation? When I mentioned this her normally stoic and controlled face flashed surprise.
“Never deal with intrigue or matters of personal weakness where others have prepared. The library was obviously a place prepared for you beforehand and I was instructed to meet you there, that made it unsuitable.”
A simple bit of precaution, it had been a while since I had read Sun Tsu’s the Art of War in college on a lark, but if I make the analogy of the social battlefield being like a literal one I could see how it applies.
“Next, your station is whatever you can hold for yourself in whatever manner you can hold it. For you, it’s with sword and spells. Failure to maintain your station will have someone taking it from you soon enough. More subtle methods of social control are usually left to your wife, but a basic recognition of it will be required.”
I had to interrupt her here since I couldn’t see I had ‘lost station’ in our interaction, her high handed behavior was rude but she was the tutor and a certain amount of respect was due her.
This was again a moment of confusion from her, the idea that I thought she was due respect as a tutor instead of to be commanded as a wife left her befuddled. She ended up explaining gently, as if to a small child, that my carrying the tray was the issue. Doing so put me in a servant position, I should have called for a servant and had them carry it to her room.
The more we discussed the rules of social status and rank the more the picture started to form about how power and control were paramount and loss of it would cost me. An example she used was how my room was slightly smaller than the House heads, yet still larger than Delana’s. Seren’s room was also larger than Delana’s but it was shared between her and her maid while Delana’s would be for her use only. She pointed out these facts without having ever seen any other room but her own. She knew this because to fail to provide these things would be an insult that would lead to violence.
It took me ten minutes of discussion with Seren to realize that me failing to demand a room larger than her own would lead to problems for her. She didn’t see me as being rude to her or any future host, she saw it as me showing that I was important, her importance riding my coattails. If I failed to demand my dues then what little power she wielded would be reduced accordingly.
Our discussion had ranged for almost three hours before I asked the question that I had been dreading. Her calm and considered answers, even to questions which must have been almost childish to her, prompted me to finally ask a delicate question. Even as I asked it I dreaded the emotional outburst I was expecting.
“Why does anyone let this crazy duel custom of marriage exist? Why doesn’t anyone reject it?”
Seren paused and I could see her glance into the far corner of the room as she leaned back and thought about my question.
Her explanation started with a story, “Hundreds of years ago a man was left on the field of battle. Presumed to be mortally wounded, he was cared for by a noble woman skilled in healing. During this care, they fell in love and married. He was a nobleman of high birth, rich and prosperous. She was a woman of a noble house, a poor house but with strength of arms and magic such that even the women of her line could learn skills in spell-craft.”
I found myself with even more questions as the story continued, why was it that ‘even the women’? Why was it that women were treated as inferior even as noble women could control so many things? Were these some kind of stereotypical gender roles?
“Returning to his ancestral home his brother claimed that the army had reported him as fleeing from the field. The brother then challenged him to a duel to the death. While healed from his injuries the brave soldier had only just recovered from his wounds and was tired from his travels. He accepted the duel, but lost his life.”
I was losing myself in the story, it sounded like the myths of my world, how some traditions had developed from fables and allegories.
Here Seren’s voice went soft and I could hear the sorrow in her voice, “No one may contest a challenge duel, armies have crippled the Kingdom in years past, duels replaced the marching of armies in matters of honor.”
Pausing Seren sipped at her cooling tea then continued, her dramatic gestures told a history of storytelling.
“The brother claimed that his victory in the duel proved that his charge was true, the man had been a deserter and no longer a brother of his. Cowardly behavior meant his failure removed any right to any belongings provided by the family. The brother seized the man’s purse, weapons, and stripped the widow of her clothing throwing her out into the night to fend for herself,” Seren’s look drilled into me as she recited her story.
At her pause, I was about to interrupt when Seren continued, “The widow’s family raised their arms and descended upon the man’s family, they did not contest the duel but instead the treatment of the widow. In the resulting war, both noble houses fell leaving the Kingdom weaker. An invasion from the east shortly after cost the Kingdom severely. The King decreed duel’s to the death must result in marriage for the widow to protect her from abuse.”
At the end of her story Seren was staring at the table top. With a deep breath, Seren’s voice changed from that of a young woman telling a story of old and instead became more animated.
“That’s the story of why duels to the death are as they are. It’s the official story of duels. I’m certain it even has some grain of truth in it. The reason these rules haven’t been changed by royal decree is simple. It’s another weapon in the Kings arsenal to control and stabilize the Kingdom.”
The question of how or why the King would need to stabilize the Kingdom using duels was enlightening as to the hidden differences I had missed entirely about this world or at least this part of it.
The King had to balance the force of the nobles, those with a claim to the throne, against the merchant houses which could often buy their own forces and the needs of the army and Kingdom.
A hired blade-master gifted a wife, a friendly gesture by one noble house for a favorite of a King, could be used to end the line of a noble. A blade-master could kill a noble target ending the problem of a potential royal line. The King would then have a feared blade-master with ties to a merchant or noble house through a wife, a blade-master which would need the coin to maintain his and his wife’s status. If instead, he would lose his duel this left a noble with a wife which he would be loath to bed. Few would be the fruit which would be likely to form from that union.
Being told how women are wielded like weapons just to make it unlikel
y a noble line would continue made me sick. My obvious disgust over the treatment of women turned the subject to the horrific reasoning. Women were just worth less. The blunt assessment by Seren if in not those words then with that sentiment sickened me further.
The Kingdom was in a constant war against monsters. Men were directed to be the protectors of women and one of the few ways to move up socially was to become a powerful adventurer, this pushed men into fighting monsters on a regular basis with an obvious result. Women outnumbered men by a ratio of almost four to one. I thought back to my time in Mennen and realized the suppression force which hunted the woods was only made up of men. The survival rate was frightening, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a constant war.
Reviewing my time in cities I realized that the number of men compared to women was significant. The few women I had been exposed to worked almost exclusively as servants, craftsman, or in some other way inside. Seren made it clear that some women would only leave the home when it was time to be wed.
I asked if women were not allowed to be adventurers, but her answer was telling, “The first rule of the land is that you can do whatever you have the power to do. Women are rarely trained for combat, if they wish to fight then they can.”
Yeah, like it would be that easy for a woman to simply just grab a sword and skip out on her daily chores while the son does his daily chores hunting and fighting animals and monsters. The structure was obvious, and my questions involving inheritance laws made it clear it followed the male line. Men threw themselves into the meat grinder of adventuring, dying at a prolific rate. Those who were unwilling to continue in the same social station of their parents would hunt the dangerous areas of the wilds, success meant the chance to be accepted into a dungeon to farm for a merchant House.