by R. J. Price
“Do you mean Lord Jer? Because he acts quite strangely around me,” Mar said.
“It'll be fine, I'm sure,” Aren said, waving dismissively. “I'll go get him now!”
Aren stood and made for the door as if she were truly going to find Jer. She couldn’t actually leave Mar alone.
The palace was in an uproar over Lord Worl. Over twenty victims had been discovered, though no one would say how the guard was certain there were at least twenty victims. Aren would have been just another body, had she not drawn the wrath of Av down on her.
When Aren opened the door, meaning to step outside for a moment to give both of them time to gather their thoughts, Lady Em stepped in as if invited. Aren moved out of the woman’s way and closed the door before she took her place to the side of the door and against the wall.
Servants were nearly invisible. Most lords and ladies seemed to forget that their servants were there, or perhaps thought the servants nothing more than furniture. Even Mar, when Aren stood to the side in just such a manner, sometimes forgot that Aren was in the room with her.
“Lady,” Mar said with a curtsey, keeping her eyes on the floor.
“You mean to usurp my throne.”
“No,” Mar said, frowning at Lady Em’s feet. “We leave tomorrow for Lord Perlon's lands.
“I have a missive in my study that says Lord Perlon stepped down as lord to his lands, allowing his younger brother to take title and wealth from him. I will call off this mating immediately. I will not be usurped, most especially by my own daughter.”
“My lady, with due respect,” Mar curtseyed again. “I will mate no other but Lord Perlon, and he purchased a home already in my name, on his land. No, on his brother's lands. He has described it to me in full and promised we would retire there after the ceremony. I want nothing to do with your throne.”
Lady Em was silent for a long time before speaking. “I believe you. Therefore, I shall allow the ceremony to continue, but if you ever have a child by him I will slaughter it before it reaches your breast.”
“What? Why?” Mar looked up. “What could my child ever do to you, mother?”
“It could usurp my throne,” Em snarled in response.
“There's the bride!” The door swung open and three older women who Aren dimly recalled being introduced as aunts came into the room laughing and chattering to one another. They were completely oblivious to the conversation that had just been happening, and to the fact that they had not been invited into the rooms. “Oh goodness, Mar looks just like her father, doesn't she look just like her father?”
All the aunts launched into a gasping agreement, surrounding Mar as they touched the dress and questioned her choice of hairstyle, agreed that she should mate without paint on her face, as the fashion was becoming. As the aunts went on and on Lady Em dismissed herself, making an excuse that none of the aunts heard.
As soon as the door closed, everything went quiet.
“About time,” one of them muttered.
“She certainly knows how to make every day feel like a funeral day,” another grumbled, puffing up her chest.
“Now,” said the third. “Has your father given you the talk yet?”
“No,” Mar said.
“Oh, thank goodness. I don't doubt he'd try to educate you, but the man is daft when it comes to pleasing a woman,” the first said.
“Only chased your mother thinking he'd appreciate a woman,” said the second.
“Was he ever wrong,” said the third.
“Bless him, though, he stuck by her and did as was right,” said the first.
“Yes,” said the second.
“What I don't understand,” said the third. “Is why he's keeping his distance from you.”
Mar held up her hands to stop them from speaking. “You mean he's here? My father is at court?”
“Of course he is,” said the first.
“Obviously.”
“Oh dear,” said the third. “I don't think she knows.”
“No, I don't know,” Mar said back. “My mother never told me who my father was.”
“Oh dear,” they all said at once.
“Well if you don't know...” said the first.
“I wonder if...” said the second.
“Oh dear, he doesn't know at all, does he?” said the third. “No wonder the poor man's walking around as if he's marching to his own death.”
“How do you three live lives separately from one another?” Mar asked. “You all have only small bits of information. Tell me, is there a fourth who makes more sense, who can share the most vital piece of information that you obviously are not sharing with me?”
“What would that be, dear?” said the first.
“Oh yes, what would that be dear?” said the second.
“Are you angry, dear?” said the third. “One shouldn't be angry on their mating day.
“Who my father is!” Mar said. She seemed startled at the volume of her own voice and lowered it. “You know, obviously. Tell me who he is, because my mother will take that secret with her to the spirit world.”
“We couldn't do that,” said the first, shaking her head as the other two shook their heads gravely.
“No,” said the second. “That is truly the place of the mother to share such information.”
“We could,” said the third, hesitating as her sisters looked to her. “Well, what if we wrote it on a piece of paper and put it in with the papers we were going to gift her after her mating ceremony?”
There was a lengthy silence as the three looked from one to the other and back again. The aunts made much ado about hemming and hawing, staring at the floor, and then up at a tapestry as they considered loudly and without words the matter before them.
“Meh,” said the first.
“Why not?” said the second.
“It's settled, then, we will write it down and put it in your mating gift,” said the third.
“Wait,” said the first.
“What?” said the second.
“The queen won't be giving them their gifts,” said the first with a sigh.
“Thank goodness for your foresight,” said the second.
“Thank the spirits, indeed,” said the third.
Mar stood through this prattling, gritting her teeth. Demanding an answer would obviously do nothing more than set the aunts off again down a different path. The three of them spun through another circle of how terrible it was that one could not even trust one's own mother with mating gifts, and what was the world coming to when not even the queen upheld traditions?
Then they talked a while about how Em had sat the throne the longest of all the queens in so many years, and they had that to be thankful for above all else, now hadn't they?
Eventually Mar sat, preferring that to standing while three elderly women bickered in circles she could hardly keep up with. The young queen finally noticed Aren by the door, making eye contact in silent question. She was wondering if Aren had possibly followed any of the conversation, or could make sense of it. Aren gave her head a small shake in response.
By the time they came back to the topic Mar wanted discussed, it was almost time for the ceremony.
“Oh, I'm sorry dear,” said the first.
“We got off topic,” said the second.
“But unfortunately, there's no way for us to tell you without her finding out and then where would we be?” said the last.
“Dead,” said the second.
“Or worse,” said the first.
Chapter Twenty
“I am only attending the ceremony,” Av said, smoothing out his vest. “Then I am taking what is mine. Are you listening to me?”
He turned to Jer, who was lost in thought. His brother made a sound at the back of his throat, stepping up to Av to undo the buttons and redo them. With a pat to Av's arm, Jer walked to the door and opened it, motioning out of the room.
“Are you all right?” Av asked.
“The aunts have
n't seen Mar in years, they tell me. They came to comment on how much Mar looks like Mother,” Jer said distantly. “Do you think she looks like Mother?”
Av considered. “I've never made that connection. Don't they know Mar is a bastard?”
“I don't know,” Jer sighed. “Ever since the miscarriage I keep hoping. It's a foolish thing but...”
“Cheer up. There's a mating ceremony to be had. Who can be sad at a mating ceremony?”
Jer made a sound at the back of his throat. He led the way out of the room, through the palace, and to the front gardens, where the ceremony was taking place in the cool evening air of early fall. There were several areas in the gardens maintained for small-to-large functions. Mating ceremonies could be held on the grounds by any commoner as long as space was available.
The steward of the court acted as officiant for the ceremony, performing the rites, then recording the mating in the palace papers to be maintained for a hundred years before cycling them out to make room for more papers. Av had only once been to the record rooms, when his mother had taken him there, just after arriving at the palace, presented him to the archivist and said:
“Is this what I think it is?”
She would laugh about it in later years, but it was not until Av was relating the story at her cremation that he found it amusing.
“Av?” Jer said.
Av gave himself a shake. “Sorry.” He took his place on the right of the steward, a step away to give Perlon the room to stand beside the steward. Aren stood on the other side, her nose in the air just slight as Av approached. She turned her attention rather quickly to the entrance of the area, awaiting the engaged pair.
“Ladies and lords,” the steward said, raising his voice as everyone quieted suddenly. “I invite you to join with me today in bonding a pair, not for an interim, but for life. While many of us have experienced the joys of mating for a year, for ten years, the choice to mate for life is never one to be taken lightly.
“Yet men and women do make this choice; they come together to be linked for all eternity, to share their children and the beds of no other. In this life, however, for it to be successful, there are certain ways we must follow. The man must come first,” as the steward spoke, Perlon stepped into the entrance and moved forward slowly, “for it is of the man's mind to choose a woman. He does not come first always, he is not the only voice in a decision, but a man comes first most especially because warriors came first, and so a man must choose a friend to stand by his side, to be his warrior in times of need. To this mated pair. Av, will you be Perlon's warrior, protecting his mate, should he falter, caring for her, should he pass, but knowing that you have no obligation to mate her, in his place?”
“I do,” Av said. And he meant it. The warrior and queen of the mated pair were rarely called upon to do any duties after the pair was mated, but Av had agreed to take the warrior's place because he had known he would protect Mar from everything. Whereas Jer would protect her from almost everything.
“And so the man takes his place. For finding a warrior brave enough to face the bad times and the good, to stand toe-to-toe with the queen, who will no doubt cause him bodily harm should he fail in his duties, is not an easy feat. This is why the man comes first,” the steward paused and looked to Aren. “The bodily harm part is purely traditional, you realize? You aren't actually supposed to harm him.”
Aren smiled, and those gathered chuckled.
“Then,” the steward raised his voice once more as Mar came to the entrance and approached slowly, “comes the woman, second to the mating for her mate must find the warrior and the ring and the agreement of either her mother or her father. She comes second not in opinion, for both of a mated pair must be equal to survive beyond ten years, but because when a woman decides to mate, finding a queen to stand at her side is a simple affair. Women are more apt to stand by women and agree to the promises to be made.
“Aren, to this mated pair will you be queen? Will you protect and care for Mar's children as if they were your own, take them into your house and love them? Will you keep her mate safe from harm, should she pass, to ensure that if he mates once more it is for love, and not convenience, that you will not permit him to mate another if this other would do him harm, to his reputation, heart or mind, will these things you do?”
“I will,” responded Aren quietly.
“Then I would present the mating pair, Mar and Perlon. In this place, in this time, you stand before these witnesses not as lord and lady, not as your titles, Perlon, or your ranks, Mar, but simply as a man and woman to be bound together. The man stands on the right because while he comes to the mating first he is to be the right-hand of his woman. The woman on the left to remind her that even if she is a queen, she must give in to the wishes of her mate, whose only role is to guide her gently and properly through life. Now come the vows.”
There was silence as everyone turned to Mar. The young woman looked startled.
“I've never been to a mating before. Was I to write my own vows?”
“Yes,” said Perlon. “I'm surprised no one was kind enough to walk you through the ceremony.”
“Why didn't you?” Mar asked him.
“I was too taken by your eyes to recall what would happen,” Perlon said with a grin. “How about I go first?”
Mar nodded.
Perlon looked to the gathered witnesses. “If you will excuse the change to tradition, I will say my vows first.” He cleared his throat and faced Mar. “Mar, I mate you without title and without rank, I do so by arrangement, but find myself more willing as time does pass. I vow to hold you above all other women, but for perhaps your daughters. I vow to earn my way and your way and the way of as many children as you would care to have. I vow to keep house, honour and your name. To these things will you accept my vow?”
“I will,” responded Mar. Hesitantly she continued. “Perlon, I mate you without title but with rank, which is not something I can strip away or change no matter my desire, I do so by force, but find myself warmed by your company. I vow to do my share and any more than my share that I can muster. I vow to carry children for you, with honour and content, to raise them with happiness and delight. To these things will you accept my vow?”
“I will,” said Perlon.
“A mating bond cannot be had without honesty. To whom is it said, that arranged Perlon to be here today?” the steward asked.
“I did,” Jer said from near the entrance.
“And to whom is it said, that forced Mar to be here today?” the steward asked.
There was quiet. Av frowned and looked over those gathered. Em was not present.
“Where is the mother?” the steward asked.
This time everyone looked amongst themselves as if they would find Em in their numbers. All turned back to the steward, silently startled.
“Then all bindings between mother and mated pair shall from this day forth be null and void,” the steward said, raising his voice above the protests of those present, quoting an older book on honour. “And should a mother or father choose not to attend the mating of their child then so shall it be said that the parent can rot with the darkest spirits of all. Our children are our future, and without our future we are nothing. I declare Mar and Perlon mated, Av and Aren shall take their places as warrior and queen. May any who deny the lawfulness of this mating be damned. You may celebrate and lay your blessings upon the couple.”
Perlon and a confused Mar turned to the gathered witnesses, drawn forward by those who wanted to bless them. Av glanced at the steward.
“What?” said the man. “She couldn't even show up to a mating ceremony? I am giving up my position as steward. I cannot be in my right mind if I stayed to work for the woman. Ridiculous, that's what it is, absolutely ridiculous. It is bad luck, bad omen, bad everything to dismiss your own child for doing nothing wrong but following your every command. By the spirits.”
“Spirits have nothing to do with it,” Aren muttered.
The steward shook a finger at Aren, glowering at her, then shook the finger once more. “You just, you keep your mouth closed. One in your position should not be offering advice on the position of others. And you,” the steward said to Av, “good luck with this one.”
“What do you mean good luck with this one?” Aren snapped at him. “Do you realize what he plans on doing?”
“Plans? My dear he signed the paperwork months ago, there isn't a man here who would step between the two of you unless he abuses you, and I doubt he's going to do that. Get off your high horse, you don't sit the throne.” Huffing, the man walked off, slid into the crowd and vanished.
Av watched Aren watch the man leave. The woman was growing steadily redder yet did not look outraged. More embarrassed than anything else.
“Come,” Av offered his arm to Aren. “We have to attend the feast.”
“And then?” Aren asked.
“We'll see,” Av said.
Aren hesitated, took the offered arm. She allowed Av to lead her back into the palace. He followed along with the witnesses of the mating ceremony, who followed Mar and Perlon. The two walked arm-in-arm and seemed genuinely content with their fates.
Av had witnessed too many mating ceremonies where one or the other, usually a woman Em had declared disgraced, had wept at the prospect of being mated. Outside the palace commoners still mated for love and romance, there were even lords who did as much, but Em had taken to arranging matings in order to draw certain allies closer. In recent years the arrangements had taken a darker turn, arranged in order to punish one or the other for getting out of line or for simply questioning the queen.
“Let me be clear,” Aren said to Av. “I am not yours.”
“Really?” Av responded.
“I am being very serious.”
Av pulled Aren down a hallway and into the first unlocked room he found. Unlocked rooms were a sign that no one inhabited the room, so they would not be disturbed. Av pushed Aren deeper into the room, and then locked the door behind him to ensure their privacy.
