"I'd like that," Janys admitted.
"Then I will slip out the back and let her know our change in plans."
Janys started back for the living room, pleased her hand barely hurt thanks to Shalimerie's ministrations. However she hung back when she saw Martel and Kronitin together, the two blond heads shaking as they argued.
"This is my fault alone," Martel told his brother. "You should not have any part of it."
"It is my right to spare you—"
"It is my right to bear my punishment without hurting my family," Martel interrupted. "Does Father also intend to take it on himself?"
"I believe so," Kronitin said earnestly. "Unless the others agree you should be given a lighter sentence because you sought his discipline immediately. Of course I will also argue that you have done penance by taking on the burden of marrying an outsider."
"But neither of you think they will listen," Martel shook his head. "Tadewidan warned me yesterday that Onnerton and Peretal still consider me a traitor."
"We have to be prepared for the maximum, which means your family and friends should divert as much as possible." Kronitin put his hand on Martel's shoulder. "I know you would do the same for us in different circumstances."
Martel hugged his brother. "If I cannot stop you, then accept my thanks."
"I will still deliver one stroke. Will you be thanking me for that?"
"Perhaps not," Martel conceded. "But I forgive you for it, if you will forgive yourself for having to do it."
The two men clasped arms again, then Martel looked over to the door. "Janys, how long have you been there?"
"A little while." She blushed.
"Then write down in the bibalon that you will receive ten swats for eavesdropping," he ordered.
As she fumbled with the book and pen, Kronitin looked at the wall clock. "We must be going."
Fortunately Shalimerie reappeared as the men somberly moved towards the door. Janys slipped to Martel's side, wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'm sorry," she repeated.
"It will all be over soon," he assured her, his lips brushing the top of her head. Then he was gone.
As Shalimerie got her son ready for bed, Janys wrestled with her guilt and confusion. When she'd studied Demetian customs, she'd considered them simple. She'd classified the entire colony as sadists and masochists who enjoyed giving and receiving corporal punishment. Now she saw the underlying complexity of the rules that governed both domestic relationships and the community.
In a few minutes Shalimerie returned carrying a large green bottle and glasses. Brushing aside one of Chardontal's rubber balls, she set them down on a low table in front of Janys. After popping the court with a practiced hand, she poured a generous amount for both of them. But before she took a sip, she took out her bibalon and jotted down an entry.
"Kronitin usually never minds if I drink winnotal," she commented. "As long as it is not very much and I tell him about it. But one time he did punish me for drinking five out of the ten days, so I must always write it down."
"There's so much I don't understand," Janys confessed. "Such as what Martel and Kronitin talked about when you were gone. Something about Kronitin diverting punishment from Martel."
For a second Shalimerie's face darkened. "Kronitin told me his intentions. While I understand why he wishes to protect Martel, it grieves me for him take on that pain."
"How does it all work? I know Men's Gatherings are secret."
"And should have remained so as to you," the other woman pointed out. "At least before now. But although Kronitin keeps confidence on specifics, we conduct gatherings for women in the same way in Lycarta, so I have a good idea what Martel faces tonight."
Janys took a long swallow, letting the sweet but burning taste fill her mouth and throat. Shalimerie joined her before settling back, her hand twisting a pillow by her side. "Although the Council has no authority over the gathering, the men usually ask an elder to preside. First he makes certain all members of the community are present or their absence explained. Then he calls for discussion of any event or other issue affecting the community as a whole. I imagine they will be most concerned tonight about Protectorate action on your behalf."
Please don't ask me if I know anything about that Janys begged, remembering her last exchange with the ambassador. Fortunately Shalimerie kept any questions to herself. "Finally the group takes up matters relating to individuals. Each man will be given the opportunity to describe his failures and submit himself for punishment. Most of the time, these relate to private matters not otherwise known outside the family, and the man himself may suggest an appropriate sanction to be carried out by the presiding elder."
"I don't understand," Janys confessed. "What sort of matters?"
"Kronitin calls it limiton, but I think of it as 'correcting the corrector'. Neither a husband nor parent has unlimited authority to discipline." Shalimerie poured more winnotal into her glass. "Sometimes it appears that a punishment was unduly harsh, or was otherwise given in error. The remedy for wrongful punishment requires the person causing it to suffer the same or worse."
"Making amends?" Janys remembered Ellondelle's phrase.
"You can see it that way." She stood up. "Let me check that Chardontal has gone to sleep. Lately he has tried to climb out of his crib after I have gone, and because he is much too young to understand discipline, all I can do is tuck him in again. When I get back, I will give you an example of limiton. "
While Shalimerie was gone, Janys topped off the glasses. Although the subject matter of the conversation disturbed her, the liquid definitely helped her relax. She leaned back and closed her eyes, opening them only when she heard the rustle of a tunic.
"It was the first year we got married," Shalimerie began. "Although I loved Kronitin and wanted to live with him, I had problems becoming a Wyteen wife. It seemed as though no matter how hard I tried, my bottom and legs were always sore."
Tell me about it. Janys looked at her aching hand while still feeling the remnants of Martel's attentions to her rear end.
"One night I came home extremely tired," Shalimerie continued. "Back before Chardontal was born I taught reading at the school. Usually my students behaved themselves, but that day I had to give them a group spanking. My arm felt as though it would drop off by the time I had the last one crying."
She sighed. "Normally Kronitin would have noticed I was not myself, but it had been a bad day for him as well. We started quarreling before dinner and continued into the evening, until he told me to fetch the marital paddle. He said I needed to have my disposition adjusted before bedtime. I thought he was wrong, and after wielding the paddle myself earlier that day, I could not bring myself to get it."
"Instead of obeying, I shouted at him that he belonged over my lap instead, and that I wished we were in Lycarta so I could make it so." She blushed. "I took it back immediately, but he was angry as well and would not listen. Instead he got the paddle himself and put me right over here." Her hand patted the sofa arm. "By the time he finished, I could not even think of sitting down."
"The next day he apologized and admitted he overreacted. He returned from the next gathering with bruises on his buttocks much like mine. I believe he regretted the severity of my punishment, and told the other men to perform limiton by giving him the same."
Once again, Janys grasped the logic behind the Demetian traditions. At least checks and balances existed against misuse of power. Perhaps Shalimerie had been spared future encounters with the paddle because Kronitin learned to pause and evaluate his own risk. "I was asking about this same thing earlier today. I wonder why his mother didn't say anything about this whole idea of limiton."
Shalimerie snorted. "Do you really think Ellondelle would tell you about it on the day Martel faces the Gathering? Besides, she is like most outsiders. When they truly accept our customs, they become the purists. For months after Kronitin and I married, she watched every time he sat down to make sure we were not secretly re
versing our roles to the Lycarta way. My own mother accepted my decision to become a Wyteen wife long before Ellondelle saw me as proper material for her son."
"Did it ever happen?" Somehow Janys couldn't imagine the disapproving Ellondelle embracing her as a daughter-in-law even if the Institute failed to rescue her.
"Not until Kronitin spanked me in front of all of them," Shalimerie turned pink. "His family invited us to their house to celebrate the Feast of Planetfall. While I was helping with the table, Yagote annoyed me one time too often, and I snapped. Of course she told Kronitin, and he asked his mother if he could borrow the strap Zellin used on the boys when they were growing up. After Ellondelle found it, he pushed the dishes aside at one of the end of the table and told me to bare myself and bend over."
"I was so embarrassed I thought I would die," she confessed. "It was the first time since our wedding that Kronitin did anything to me before others. And to have it in front of that girl—"
"Yagote has been less than friendly to me as well," Janet jumped in. "I can tell she's interested in Martel."
"I thought you would figure that out." Shalimerie laughed. "I considered telling you, but I knew if you were interested in him yourself, you would discover it on your own. Janys, I am glad you pay such close attention to our Martel."
"She's just so obvious about it," Janys muttered. While it was gratifying to have her suspicions confirmed, she hated admitting anything resembling jealousy over a husband she didn't want.
Shalimerie chuckled again. "To you and me, yes, Kronitin and Martel choose to be blind. They are men. They love having another female fuss over them."
"But if Martel is her goal, why doesn't she like you?"
>Let me show you something." The other woman got up and went over to a chest under the windows. Opening it up, she removed a large album, then came back and sat down next to Janys. She flipped through the pages, then pointed at a picture. Much younger versions of Kronitin and Martel smiled at the camera. A grinning Yagote stood between them, her arms clutched around both their shoulders.
"Martel is her goal now, because all her feelings shifted that way after I spirited Kronitin away. Before that I think she believed they both would live with her forever. When Kronitin moved out, she realized the only way to bind the remaining brother to her was by marriage."
"I can't believe Martel would encourage her," Janys ventured.
"Only by being kind to her instead of setting her straight." Shalimerie poured the last of the wine into the two glasses. "I believe he wanted to spare his mother as well, because Ellondelle supported the idea. Even if I passed her test that feast day by taking the strapping without complaining, she wanted Martel to marry within the Wyteen community."
"Why didn't he?"
Shalimerie shrugged. "Until you came along, Martel showed no special interest in any of the women here. Ellondelle always feared he would seek an outsider. As in fact he did, though in a different way than his brother. Yagote was her last chance."
Janys drank deeply, appreciating the warmth of the winnotal as it spread through her body. "I still can't see Martel and Yagote as anyone's idea of a couple."
"Neither can I," her friend chimed in. "But Ellondelle believes Yagote has hidden charms. Unfortunately they are too hidden for my taste."
"Or mine."
The two women chuckled. How could she ever have thought Shalimerie to be the Demetian equivalent of the decorative young women the Institute hired to show visitors around? Now Janys saw the bouncy optimism concealed levels of perception and wit. Even though the society required submission to husbands, Janys suspected Shalimerie was every inch a match for Kronitin.
She would have liked to have learned more about Ellondelle and her nemesis, as well as Shalimerie's ways of coping with her punishments, but she felt she'd abandoned Martel by going off on other subjects. After a pause, she swung the topic back. "So as in limiton, an elder will paddle Martel tonight?"
"Alas, love, that is not the way I believe it will go," Shalimerie shook her head. "This is not a private matter involving only a single victim. Even if Martel suggests a sanction, it will be with the rod, not a paddle, and it will be carried out by all of the men present, with the elder filling in for any absent ones."
"Everyone gets to come strike him with the rod?" Janys quickly calculated how many men populated Wyteen. "But that would be over forty!"
"Only if Kronitin and his father prevail in keeping the number that low," Shalimerie corrected. "The gathering may authorize up to five strokes from each person. That is where friends and family are important.
"So if the number were five?"
"Everyone including Kronitin and Zellin would be expected to deliver that number in full force. A man may only refuse to carry out the allotted number if he is willing to bear them himself."
Janys closed her eyes, imagining what damage two hundred strokes would do. "You're saying that Kronitin and his father would take Martel's place?" Now she understood the extent of his family's sacrifice.
"Yes, for whatever number they wish to defer. Kronitin will deliver only a single stroke to Martel. Even that will be difficult for him, as it is for him to take the rod to me, but he believes some punishment should be given for such an error in judgment. But beyond that one, he will take them on himself." She grimaced, her fingers again squeezing the cushion by her side.
Now Janys could fit together all the pieces of conversation she'd overhead. "But if the Gathering agreed on just one, Kronitin would be all right?"
"We may hope." Shalimerie downed the last of her winnotal. "But we should be prepared otherwise. First however we must clear our heads with some food." The bottle vanished, replaced by a pitcher of water and basket of pastries stuffed with bondoliere…
Although the food tasted delicious, Janys barely noticed it. All she could imagine was a procession of men stepping towards Martel with something long and thin in their hands. And not just Martel, but his father and brother, as well as any other friends who volunteered to help.
For the rest of the evening, Shalimerie diverted her with tales of her work as a teacher. "When Chardontal grows older, I plan to go back, unless a brother or sister arrives first. But after you fully settle in, you might consider helping out. Martel mentioned you love literature, and since I left they have been short-handed in the reading class."
While Janys silently noted she didn't intend to be on the planet that long, they heard footsteps on the path. Shalimerie sprung up to open the door, but only Kronitin stood in the doorway. "We thought Martel should go directly home," he told them, his shoulders hunched forward. "My father went with him. I will take Janys there."
His wife placed her hands lightly on his upper arms, looking deeply into his eyes. "Not before I help you heal any marks you bear for helping your family. Come with me, my darling."
"You know men do not accept salves—" he protested.
"I know men do not accept salves for their own punishments. This is something else," Shalimerie argued. "Now we can either stand here discussing it, or you can let me put it on so that you can hurry Janys back to Martel."
Janys recognized the look on Kronitin's face as the same mixture of exasperation and something else she'd seen on Martel when dealing with her. Nevertheless he followed his wife to the back. Small cries punctuated their murmurings for the next minutes. Then Kronitin emerged, wincing as he rebuckled his tunic.
Shalimerie stood in the hallway beckoning at Janys. "Your turn now. Before you leave I wanted to put more cream on your hand."
Kronitin's eyebrows lowered as though he didn't believe Janys needed any additional treatment, but he didn't protest as Janys returned to the bathroom. "It's feeling a lot better, so I really don't think—" Janys began.
Shalimerie placed a finger across her lips. "Hush," she whispered, closing the door. "Kronitin could not tell me what happened tonight, but there were two raised lines on his back."
Janys did the math. The Gathering must have c
ondemned Martel to three strokes per man. He could have been hit well over a hundred times.
"I fear Martel will need special treatment," Shalimerie continued. "The same I used on Kronitin." She slipped a small jar out of the cabinet. "This is a special ointment made by my mother. On the good side, it has great healing properties. On the bad, it stings tremendously."
"Then I doubt Martel will let me use it on him," Janys commented. She didn't want to tell her friend that she'd never touched or even seen his bare back.
"Of course he will refuse," Shalimerie agreed. "Even if it would not be agony on badly damaged skin, you heard Kronitin. The men do not believe they have the right to reduce consequences of their punishments."
"So what do I do?"
"Use this." This time Shalimerie pulled out a small bottle. "Pour five drops of this into a cup of corittan, and make sure he drinks it all. He will fall asleep quickly and not wake up even when the salve is applied."
"I don't think…" Janys shook her head.
"It will help him," Shalimerie insisted. "Do you want him to be scarred instead?"
"No," Janys cried. "But I don't see how I'm going to—"
"If you offer him the salve or drops, he will say no. But if you follow my directions, all will be well." She dropped her voice even lower. "Kronitin will never know it, but I have treated him that way several times."
"All right." Janys slipped the two offerings into the pocket with the bibalon, although she wasn't sure she would carry through on the scheme. Kronitin still waited impatiently at the doorstep as they came out.
Shalimerie hugged her goodbye. "I am glad we were finally able to talk. You must come back again on a happier day."
"I'd love that." To her surprise, Janys realized that she was already looking forward to spending more time with her new friend.
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