The Peasant

by Scott Michael Decker

  The next day, the Lady appeared minutes after I stepped into the gardens. Her servant was with her, but she didn't have any guards. She was wearing her shield again. “Infinite be with you, Bear.”

  “And with you, Lady. You look well.” I sensed she wasn't, but couldn't say so.

  “Thank you, Bear. Forgive me my indisposition yesterday.”

  “Nothing to forgive, Lady. I'm not worthy of your notice, much less your presence. You expected I'd return.”

  She smiled. “The two guards who were with me the day before yesterday don't remember what happened.” She glanced away. “Having a Wizard convenient is almost necessary.”

  A psychological Wizard? I wondered. “Do you regret having their memories erased?”

  Frowning, she nodded, and something about her changed. “I don't encourage it, I don't condone it, I don't like it! Sometimes, the needs of government disgust me so much, I wish anarchy would come through here like a hurricane. When I consider what I'd have to give up of course I don't want any change at all.” She giggled at herself. “I'm so silly, aren't I?”

  She's different today, I thought, wondering what had happened. “Your spirit looks heavy, Lady. I'm sorry to see it.”

  Her mask fell away. She looked furious. Then the fury left her face. She sighed. “I want a cure for the cynicism of nobility, Bear, or at least an inoculation against its infecting me. I admire your idealism, your genuine desire to help your peasants. I'm sorry I laughed at you the other day. I didn't mean to be cruel. When I said some people think you care less for the Caven Hills than for Scowling Tiger, the opinion was my own. When a man of your origins finds himself in authority, he often adopts the methods and attitudes of his oppressors. Sometimes he adopts them to throw off his oppressors and finds he can't un-adopt them. He keeps them in repressed revenge, not realizing he's doing to others what his oppressors did to him. I couldn't believe that a person of your station who suddenly gained your power would want to help peasants.”

  I thought about the callous attitudes underlying her opinion, so characteristic of nobility. About her ambivalence toward nobility, of whom she was one. About her simple honesty the first time we talked, when she asked me to keep our meeting secret. About her candor now. About the masks she needed to wear. About the caring I saw beneath her masks. About the price we pay for wealth, fame, influence—all those intangibles our society pressures us to want. About the self-respect that's too often the price.

  “Why do you want to help them?” she asked without her masks.

  “I'm one of them, Lady. By improving their lives, I can improve my own. My well-being depends upon the land and the peasants who farm that land. Starving peasants can't help anyone. Peasants taxed until destitute won't help anyone. Poverty in the Caven Hills is so oppressive they can't even help themselves. Why am I telling you? How can you understand the squalor and misery unless you've lived it? Unless you've felt its crushing weight on your shoulders, day after day and year after year?” I said angrily. Somehow, though, I knew she did understand—in the only way she could.

  Looking inward at her soul, she looked so sad I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her. “My Matriarch sometimes makes decisions I find abhorrent. I don't have the strength to tell her, of course. In the results of those decisions, I see the principle you stated so well to Aged Oak. You said, 'I govern with the consensus of the governed.' ” She smiled at me. “Don't worry that I'll betray his confidences, Bear. He and I have been friends for years. We're both the youngest of our families. Neither of us has an Infinite's chance of inheriting 'a bucket of fish heads,' as he calls it. We're both determined to do so—well, until yesterday. When he told me you'd said those words, I laughed. Right then I wanted to meet you. Anyway, my Matriarch doesn't realize how her decisions are spreading discontent among her daughters, or how the Matriarchy is withdrawing its consent from her. The Matriarchy is half the size as it was when she became Matriarch. Her indifference is a malaise that's infected most the nobility.”

  “What would you do about it?” I asked.

  “If I didn't have my position, Guarding Bear, I'd do what you're doing.”

  Her addressing me by my full name was an honor that nobles rarely granted peasants, the custom to use the surname only. Her saying she'd revolt as I'd revolted filled me with gratitude and warmth. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Puzzled, she searched my face with her jade-green eyes, then smiled wistfully. “Time for me to go. I don't know if I'll see you again. My Matriarch may elevate me to such a high station that I won't be able to comb my hair without someone's saying how glossy it looks. Infinite help me when that happens, eh? I also won't be able to see you again.”

  After a gratuitous chuckle, I let that mask fall away to show her my sadness. “I wish you could stay, Lady. I hope I see you again. I pray the Infinite grants you the strength to—”

  I looked away, then back at her. “The strength to be exactly the person you want to be!”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Standing, she bowed to me as though my subordinate. With immense dignity and tears on her face, she walked away, looking very much like the vulnerable young woman she was.

  Strolling through crowded streets, I returned to the hostelry, the problems of the Caven Hills forgotten. I remember thinking I wanted a mate like her. While her influence and beauty certainly attracted me, her caring and compassion were what I most liked. I prayed she developed the qualities she admired in me, the qualities she wished she had.

  Moments before I arrived at the Peasant's Back, those around me paused in their hurry. They all looked toward the castle. Wondering what drew their attention, I checked the psychic flow.

  From the castle spire, the Emperor Smoking Arrow announced that the Empress Steaming Water had resigned as Matriarch, that all her daughters but one had changed their matronyms to Stream, and that her youngest sister Bubbling Water was the new Matriarch. All so the Empress could care for the son she'd conceived for Smoking Arrow, his first child, his Heir.

  Cheering erupted around me, and I was happy too. Like everyone else, I blessed the Lady Empress for giving the Empire an Heir. I didn't feel the same joy, however. My shock and sadness were so profound I could hardly think. The image on the flow of the new Matriarch, Bubbling Water, was the black-haired, green eyed woman I'd talked with not an hour before.

  I thought I'd never see her again—not the real Bubbling Water.

  * * *

  Guarding Bear sighed, remembering his sadness. “Thank the Infinite, I did see her again—the next day, in fact—and eventually mated her too. With her help, I climbed to the top, left a trail of skulls and pissed on the feet of Emperors. I know she loves me, Hand. Infinite blast it, I wish she weren't so ruthless. She'd gouge out my eyes to save my head, not realizing I wouldn't want my head without them. Infinite bless her anyway. She's a wonderful woman, quick to anger perhaps but quick to forgive.

  “Now, I'm forty-five and sick of killing and don't want to be the Peasant Upstart Usurper any longer. Odd I told you this story. I'd forgotten I told her that. Now, I need the strength of the Infinite to be who I want to be. I'll find that strength. I pray she'll like the change in me. The irony is I probably can't change if she doesn't change too. I want to die before she does, because I don't want to live without her. Don't tell anyone I said that, eh?”

  Healing Hand hadn't heard him, having fallen asleep.

  Am I that boring? Guarding Bear wondered with a sigh. Soon, drained by Imperial poisons, the scorn of his mate and self-disgust, he joined the boy in sleep, seeking a sanctuary the waking world denied him.

  Chapter 9

  “Wizard” is a title granted solely on the basis of ability. Wizards of each talent have to meet a set of criteria particular to that talent. Pyrathon Wizards, for instance, have to generate a thousand ergs in a single molecule from five miles away. Psychological Wizards must access ninety-five percent of the psychic frequencies and generate on each of them ten thousand
psi, psychic energy units. Unlike hereditary nobles, certified Wizards cannot pass their title or the address of Lord to their children. Therefore, Wizards must endure years of schooling and apprentice work. Thus, we keep our ranks pure.—From a lecture entitled, “Social Stratum: The Wizard Elite,” by the Wizard Flowing Mind.

  * * *

  “Infinite be with you, Lord Wizard.”

  “And with you, Lady Matriarch Water,” Spying Eagle said, bowing deeply.

  Nodding to his obeisance, Bubbling Water took a moment to examine him.

  Brown of hair, of eye, of skin, the psychological Wizard before her didn't conform to her expectation. Silent Whisper knew I needed the most qualified psychologist he could find, she thought. I expected a Wizard who is withered, wizened and wise. Spying Eagle's so young. Is he even qualified? she wondered.

  Bubbling Water consulted the file in her hand.

  A native of Emparia City, Spying Eagle was twenty-six years old, not long beyond his training. He was adopted at two months old and had quickly developed multiple talents. At seven, he'd enrolled in the Institute of Psychology, the youngest ever to attend the ancient school. He had graduated from the Institute at the top of his class. Spying Eagle had served under the Wizard Gentle Soul for his certification, earning the title of Wizard and the coveted address of Lord by age twenty. With credentials like his, the Imperial Sorcerer would've instantly accepted Spying Eagle as an apprentice. After his three-year conscription in the Eastern Armed Forces, Spying Eagle had instead set up a private practice in Emparia City.

  In the antechamber, he hadn't moved, despite her scrutiny.

  The usual incentives won't buy this man, Bubbling Water thought. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice, Lord Wizard. I'll pay you more than adequately.”

  Spying Eagle held her gaze with his. “I don't care what you pay me, Lady Matriarch.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “What brings you here then, Lord?”

  “The subject, Lady Matriarch,” Spying Eagle replied.

  “Who told you you'd be treating the Lord Bear?” she asked sharply, having instructed Silent Whisper to withhold the patient's name.

  “The Lord Bear's disappearance last night and, uh, reappearance this afternoon, Lady, coupled with your summons.”

  “Why don't you care what I'll pay?” Most assassins don't announce themselves, Bubbling Water thought, wondering how she could assure herself of his loyalty.

  “Certain events in the Lord General's life have left unique impressions on a mind already unique, Lady Matriarch. His wild talent, the unhealed scar on his nose, his unusual rise from peasant to General, his period of illness. He's an interesting man.” Spying Eagle smiled.

  “How did you know about my mate's illness, Lord Wizard?” Bubbling Water rarely thought about that horrible time in their lives.

  “My father's an administrator at the Institute of Psychology. He assigned the Wizards you requested for the Lord General after his brother's execution. I know the accepted story—that he was vacationing. I wouldn't violate my professional ethics to mention to anyone what really happened.”

  “Someone violated those same ethics to tell you.”

  “Yes, Lady Matriarch, someone did. My father told me at my request.” He didn't look upset.

  She nodded, having suspected as much, remembering his father. “Your only interest in the Lord Bear is occupational, Lord?”

  “Yes, Lady. I'm trying to prove a correlation between the thickness of a person's outer cortex and the strength of his or her talent.”

  “When you finish your study, I'd like to read it, Lord Wizard.”

  Spying Eagle blinked. “Thank you. I'll remember to send you a copy.”

  “Sorry to be so inquisitive, Lord,” Bubbling Water said warmly. “Some people would do the unconscionable to be in your moccasins.”

  “Yes, Lady Matriarch, some would.”

  If Spying Eagle had denied he was one of those people, Bubbling Water would've sent him away. She wondered how she could win his loyalty. “If the examination goes well, Lord Wizard, I might retain you on more than an incidental basis.”

  “I'm not available on any other basis, and forgive me, Lady Matriarch, my loyalty isn't for winning.”

  Smiling, she nodded. “It is I who must apologize, Lord Wizard. I wouldn't respect a person whose loyalty I can win. Unless given freely, without condition, such loyalty doesn't last.”

  “Wise words, Lady Matriarch,” Spying Eagle said.

  Bubbling Water liked how he acknowledged what she said but neither accepted nor rejected the apology. She liked his tact. “Yesterday evening, the Lord Bear disappeared for several hours. This afternoon, we found him in a brothel, blind drunk. The medacor who treated him found poison in his system, a gap in his memory and 'something else,' he said.”

  “Who was the medacor, Lady Matriarch?”

  She scowled. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Do you have the Lord General's medical and psychological histories?”

  His question startled her. “I don't know. One moment.” Bubbling Water queried her niece Trickling Stream on the third floor. “My secretary says the records are in Bastion, Lord Wizard. Again, why do you want to know?”

  “For the examination, I need to know as much as I can, Lady Matriarch. I mean not to question your selection of physician. Medacors often refer patients to me—every medacor has his or her own methods. My knowing who treated the Lord General might help.”

  “Oh, of course, Lord Wizard. The medacor was Healing Hand.” I've been under too much stress, Bubbling Water thought, having struggled lately to keep her poise. “Forgive me, I haven't been myself recently.”

  “We're always ourselves, Lady Matriarch. At times however, we dislike what we think, feel or do. Perhaps, with your permission, I can make an adjustment for you.”

  “I like to make my own adjustments, Lord Wizard.”

  “I spoke badly. An adjustment I can help you make, eh? I also prefer to make my own, Lady Matriarch, but at times I need help.”

  Bubbling Water regarded him standing there in the antechamber, having not yet moved his feet, nor even his hands. His utter stillness unsettled her. She knew few people who had this quality of complete presence. She probed him, expecting impenetrable mindshields. She found a mind open to her, his every thought and emotion there for her to examine. What immense inner strength he has, Bubbling Water thought, what deep spiritual faith.

  “Very well,” she said, her intuition telling her she could trust this man completely.

  The whisper of his probe brushed the edge of her mind, easing the anxiety she hadn't resolved on her own.

  Immediately, she felt better. “Thank you, Lord Eagle. Infinite bless you. Please follow me.” Turning abruptly, Bubbling Water disappeared down a corridor.

  * * *

  Spying Eagle followed, noting the number and variety of statue. He wondered how different Guarding Bear's mental state was from his usual clientele. Having treated a few warriors, he knew their intense competitiveness and borderline paranoia. A hazard of occupation, he guessed.

  Earlier that evening, Spying Eagle had visited his parents at home on the east side of Emparia City. He entered the library, his father's favorite evening haunt. Searching Eagle stood to greet his son and invited him to take a glass of wine, knowing he'd decline. Showing him the latest literature on the profession they both loved, his father treated him like an old friend.

  A few minutes later, his mother Hovering Dove joined them. Unlike their son, neither Searching Eagle nor Hovering Dove was a Wizard. Even if they had been Wizards, Spying Eagle would have had to endure the same rigorous schooling and training to earn the title.

  “The Lady Matriarch Water has asked me to treat someone at the Bear residence—more than likely the Lord General,” Spying Eagle said. Smiling his humorless smile, he added, “Tonight.”

  Searching Eagle looked at his son gravely.

  Hovering Dove said,
“You're asking us to violate Wizard-patient confidentiality.” Both were administrators at the Institute of Psychology. They often learned details that their professional ethics forbade them to divulge.

  Spying Eagle nodded. “Yes, I am—if you know something. I almost refused her request. Getting the Lord General's medical and psychological histories on such short notice would be impossible. Of course, you know how 'shy' I am toward our ruling classes.”

  “Then why didn't you refuse?” his mother asked him.

  “I don't know. I told the Lady I'd consider it, that if I accepted I'd be at the Bear residence in, well, an hour from now. You know my hypothesis?”

  “A correlation between cortical thickness and talent strength,” Searching Eagle replied. “You think the Lord General might make a good subject?”

  “That's one reason I didn't refuse. The other is his career.”

  Hovering Dove smiled. “From ignorant peasant to the second most influential man in the Empire.”

  “We've all heard the stories about his talent,” Searching Eagle said. He glanced at his mate, consulting with her mentally, the exchange so fast and garbled the Wizard could barely follow it. Mates of many years often communicated this way. “Very well, Son. This is a violation of our professional ethics and yours. Having said it, I won't mention it again.”

  Sighing, Searching Eagle continued. “The Lady Matriarch Water asked the Institute to assign two Wizards to treat Guarding Bear shortly after Brazen Bear's execution. We know the story of his 'treachery,' eh? Scowling Tiger arranged it to win back Fleeting Snow. We all knew Brazen Bear would have the Infinite to pay for 'usurping' her from Scowling Tiger. The General eventually implicated Brazen Bear for treason by planting Broken Arrow banners in his home and contriving his 'plot' to assassinate the Lord Emperor Smoking Arrow. Then she did mate Scowling Tiger—which is why everyone now calls her the Traitress.”