by P. S. Power
The Ambassador, the other Ambassador, stood grinning.
Right, he'd told her that he wouldn't really withhold the rivers. That may be simple truth, but it didn't mean he'd be happy about it, or do it without making her life difficult. Everyone else had loaded into the carriages already, all decked out in fantastic colors, except Trice’s which was a dead looking flat black. It went with the ship well, if not her personality. Trice had always struck him as a bright blue person that way.
“I will see to fixing things Ambassador Baker.” The small dark woman said, bowing low to him.
He stuck out his tongue.
“Stop that. You're what, my aunt? Cousin?”
She shook her head with a slightly amazed look. Probably that he was being so dense. That or the fact that he finally put together that her family name was “Gray” just in a different language?
“No… I'm your great niece. Though also your cousin.”
Of course she was.
Tor gave her a quick bow and told her they'd be back at first light trying not to sound like he wanted to kill someone. Ambassadors didn't do that, did they? Not good ones.
Back on the ship everyone exploded. Nearly at least. The huge scary Baron, Havor people called him. That could be either his first or last name, or the sound you made when he crushed your spine. Tor didn't know. The enraged giant stormed around complaining about how the Afrak women had kept staring at him and poking his stomach. One even tried to look at his teeth, as if he were a horse and another had tried taking his trousers down for some reason.
Tor had to admit it sounded off-putting in the extreme. Most of the royals, even the women were visibly angry. A few with him, for saying they'd put in the rivers anyway. The Royal Guards didn't complain, they just stood back and watched. As if nothing mattered as long as they didn't have to defend the Prince or Prince’s. But then they were used to being considered second class citizens weren't they? Furniture in the background. Useful, but not counted as important most of the time. Sara, with her merchant background didn't seem overly put out either.
“Sara, you seem to be the calmest one here, that isn't armed openly at least, thoughts?” They needed rationality now, didn't they? This girl may have seen something he'd missed, she was smart, Tor knew, and often got things he didn't. She was, among other things, a highly trained observer.
“This culture is screwed up, the men… I don't know what's wrong with them, but they're different than ours. A lot. Mainly the same size or smaller than the women. Still, is the way they're treated all that different than how the nobles treat the commoners back home? The assumption that one group is superior, should be giving the orders and making the demands? Pretty familiar isn't it? It's based on gender here rather than social rank, but how different is that really? Something totally beyond the individual’s ability to change being used to assign position.”
Ah.
It was a good point, Tor had to nod, even as the large royals milled around and fumed, a few of the men looked ready to lash out physically, which was scaring Ali more than a bit. She slipped to the side of the deck, away from everyone else. Since no one was noticing her overly he went and took her hand in his, getting a small scared look for his trouble. She didn't speak, but Sara was busily standing her ground in the middle of the deck, facing off with a group of three giants who were arguing that she was wrong. They seemed intent on proving that they weren't entitled and overbearing jerks by looming over her and basically ordering that she change her mind.
Because that made sense, didn't it?
Tor kissed the girl on the cheek and asked her to stay there, just in case things got tense, and walked back to his pretty blond friend. Hearteningly Rolph did the same. If anyone got mad and attacked, Tor wouldn't have to fight alone at least. It wouldn't come to that, he hoped. Too many hard feelings could be built that way, fast. Sara stared up at the larger people, her gaze taking in all the extra tall people.
“Really, you don't do that? We don't do that? I've heard all of you talking in the past week you know. I've been groped, fondled, and ordered into bed by at least six of you, and if I didn't have the heir to Noram himself running interference I would have had to do it. When Tor only made oats one night, half of you wanted to order him to remake the whole meal by himself… And he's a noble, with rank as high or higher than most of you, the Ambassador and a wizard! He could make the whole boat go away with a thought, make all our magic not work and leave us in the middle of the ocean! You all just look at his height and forget that. The subconscious assumption that those you perceive as being beneath you really are is no different here with the Afrak women. You're just upset because it's happening to you this time.”
It was a good thought. It certainly had a ring of truth to it, didn't it?
The nobles didn't like hearing it, but the Royal Guard didn't blink, living that kind of thing all the time. Tor wondered if he did that to people too? He didn't think so, but decided to make a point of looking for it from now on. Change had to start with you, or it likely wouldn't happen.
People still wanted to be worked up, reasonable speech from his friend or not, so Petra called over Kolb and Wensa and had them put their people to bed.
Without dinner.
That wasn't so much a punishment as the fact that nothing had been made, but it still drove home the point when one of the men, a minor noble of some kind that had batted Tor around a time or two in practice, one always heavy on the stick or blade tending to leave bruises, told Tor to just go and make them all something to eat. He said it as if he really hadn't been paying attention at all. Ordered him too, more than a little gruffly, to tell the truth, grumpy from the conversation and hunger no doubt. The man didn't even bother to add a please to the end as an afterthought. Or offer to help with the work. David Derring walked over and hit him in the back of the head. A full punch too. That it landed meant the man had gone to a strange land without his shield on. After less than a seconds pause David hit him again for good measure.
“Moron. Were you not just standing here the whole time? Damn, we really are that bad aren't we? Gods.” The tall thin man with his very short light brown hair and combat leathers stormed off, to bed most likely, that having been the suggestion.
Sara looked at him and rolled her eyes, and Kolb, for the first time Tor ever remembered, looked… embarrassed. That probably wouldn't go well for the hungry guy. Tor grabbed Sara by the hand on the way past and walked her to her room without speaking, glaring a little at the tall people filing in around them. They'd been demanding she perform for them sexually? Tor could see it, she was cute and fit, and to their minds her short height meant fair game. Socially she was… actually the lowest ranked person in the whole crew. Even he was higher up, if only technically. Ali was actually a Counserina too, by birth. He shook his head getting a funny look from his friend.
“What is it Tor, are you alright?” She looked slightly worried, so he grinned to reassure her, his go to move when he wasn't shrugging.
“I was just realizing I'm not the lowest ranked person on the ship, or in the world. I… it's hard for me to remember that kind of thing. I just always kind of assume it.”
The statement got a kiss as a reply. Then she asked if he wanted to come in for a while… given everything he didn't think he really should, in case she was just trying to make him feel better with sex, but she wrinkled her nose cutely and pulled him in anyway.
“It's that stuff Trice told me about isn't it? How you don't see yourself correctly and can't really help it? If you were in a room with a dozen pot washers you'd think your social position was about the same, right? Or a dozen King’s, so at least there's that. It's bizarre really. Alphonse has told me more than once about how you've stood in the presence of the whole royal family and traded barbs with some of the highest councilors in the land, but you still always act so humble and demure the rest of the time. Amazing.”
Then, thankfully she started kissing him, which led to other thin
gs. He slept in her room for about five hours before he forced himself up to make breakfast. He was draggingly tired, but happy enough about it. Sara was sweet and gentle with him, compared to Karina who was always a bit physical and dominating, or Ursala, who was always fun and interesting but not that warm. It wasn't that he minded that, but with Sara he felt… loved. With Trice too, but she had a different feel about what she did, more urgent, more about the moment. Tor could feel that Sara wanted something long term when she touched him, not just a few moments of pleasure.
Tor nodded. He was unconsciously reading her field. Everyone did it all the time, so it wasn't that damaging, and he was getting his field cohesion back pretty well, so it wasn't really a worry that way anymore. That was a good thing.
Still, he needed to spend more time with Alissa, even if Sara was kind of more interesting to him at the moment. They were to be married and he intended to go through with it, even if Count Derring was out of the picture by then. She was young, but needed someone that would stand for her all the time and really, there were worse reasons. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't love other people too. Same went for her though.
Could he do that? It wasn't what he was trained to really, but then, Two Bends was, he began to realize, a fiction for him. His mother had always seemed to fit in, but had she really? There had always been subtle things, the constant bathing for instance, that set them all apart, the good table manners she instilled and now that he thought about it, she'd always favored the girls a bit over the boys. More than a bit.
It wasn't a big thing, a lot of mothers did that there, the men were more responsible for the boys, since they were the example of what they needed to grow into. That just made sense. But his mom was pretty bad about it even for Two Bends. Tor had always shared in all the chores, but when he stopped to think about it he was pushed into more of the home duties than Terlee had ever been. More washing and cooking for the family, and he'd cared for the younger kids a lot more too, as well as other things. Terlee had done a lot and volunteered to help, being a good sister, so he'd never noticed really, but mom hadn't required it of her. Was that the whole genetic thing then? The idea was unsettling and made him realize that he had to keep him mother out of power at all costs in Noram. The idea of their broken system merging with Afrak's frightened him a little. It would end up with a bunch of tall women treating little men as slaves and worse. The idea shook him for a bit, causing a slight shudder before he grinned.
She wasn't really that bad. Not like Lara. Maybe it was growing up with relative equality as far as genders went that did it? Tor hoped so. If granny Lara was what she was going to become, Tor didn't want to see it. Was he going to become Burks then? That wasn't so bad, he was a good guy, if a little strange at times, but willing to serve others, high position or not, and he let others rule. Lara, Tor thought without real proof, seemed to lead Afrak directly. Burks didn't force himself to the front nearly as much.
No, he led from behind the scenes, in secret.
Heh.
Breakfast held some surprises for him, after he started the early baking, making a lot more bread than normal. That and thick, flat, oil crackers for later, batch after batch, dashing about trying to make pancakes and eggs for the actual meal at the same time. At about five, some helpers actually came in. Seven of them, five men and two women, all clearly having been beaten more than a little. A few still had darkening bruises on their tired faces and several limped. One of them Tor recognized as the hungry guy from the night before.
“Alright,” He pointed a spoon that he was stirring batter with at the man. “Grab four of the fresh loaves and divide them in half please… You, miss… Dara is it? If you'd go to the large cooler and get a pot of butter? Top left shelf. You can eat something before you start so you won't feel ill around the food, but hurry, we don't have a lot of time today.”
He worked without hesitating to much, not having time to slow down really, and after a few minutes of hungry gulping one of the men, shorter than the rest looked at him guiltily. After swallowing the mouthful of warm bread and half melted butter he spoke softly. Tor had to stop and walk out of the kitchen to really hear him. He stood in the doorway holding a large bowl of pancake batter, stirring it with a long wooden spoon.
“Kolb took after us. All at once, and with our shields on… Figured out a shield overlap technique. I need to learn that. Mainly for trying to boss Sara into bed. I guess I need to go and apologize to her for that today, before we leave. Um, if I've personally wronged you, I apologize and promise to try and fix it in the future.” He bowed, a seated one, so he didn't really think he'd wronged Tor personally, it was more about making sure he seemed polite.
The others chimed in, but the hungry guy actually got onto his knees and bowed low.
“I know I have, I forgot my place… sir. I cannot beg of you to forgive me, I don't deserve it. I simply ask that my punishment not be delivered unto others not to blame.”
It was a good apology and as much as he could, the man seemed to mean it. Tor wondered if he thought that he was going to go after his family for it or something? That phrasing was the one that the nobles used when trying to prevent wars, Tor had come to realize. Basically saying that they'd sacrifice themselves to save their people, if it was required. Maybe he thought Tor would punish everyone else here by not fixing food for them? That seemed more likely. He helped the man up quickly enough, not wanting to draw his humiliation out.
“OK, well, those of you that have apologies to make to Sara should see to it after breakfast, after all that's way worse than just trying to order up some dinner… For now let’s get to fixing food and then securing the kitchen and making packages of travel fare. We have to have every one fed and ready to fly in three hours.” The timing was arbitrary, but the flight would take most of the day and he wanted actual work to start before dark. They could camp out if need be, he even had houses to hold them all for comfort, in a little box in his cabin, but things were likely to get hard fast if they didn't have at least some water coming in the first day.
Tor didn't really have to pack much, just load up the rivers and equipment from Mutta's room for her and make up a small bag with grooming gear for his own comfort. He had the rest of what he needed around his neck, except food. The Ambassador was in charge of that. What he was bringing was just in case she forgot at first.
His great niece…
The idea was odd, but family was, in the end, foisted upon you without your consent, even in the best of cases. At least Mutta was sane. Tor really wasn't sure about Lara Gray yet.
After he ate and set people to putting things away properly for the week or longer they'd be gone, Tor took Kolb, Rolph and Karina to the dock, expecting to have to either wait on Lara, or just leave disappointed. What he saw in the distance was that two people stood, one dressed in drab gray, the other brilliant colors. Closing in he noticed that one had to be Lara, being as pale as she was. The other turned out to not be Mutta, but the older woman with bright blue hair and orange cat slit eyes. The look was so exotic that Tor couldn't help but remember her, even though they hadn't exchanged names.
When they landed and climbed out neither moved for a long while. Then Lara came at him like an evil creature of legend. For a half second Tor wondered if she was going to try and attack him physically. He wore a shield and was well armed, if it came to that, but it would be hard to fight her, even if she was bitchy and mean. After all, she was his grandmother and looked exactly like his mom, and really, his little sister Tiera too. Exactly like both of them. Tor just hoped he was wrong in that thought about his little sister. Three of this beast would be too much for the world to take.
“How dare you embarrass me like that! This is my land, not yours and we don't need some outsider coming in to tell us how to live! If it weren't for the fact that we need your forsaken magic rivers I'd kick you all out today and never let you return! I can't remember the last time I was so angry, so mortified by the actions of another
person! To think you're my own flesh and blood too. It was a mistake ever agreeing to try Greens experiment, I can see that now. You're exactly like him! Exactly! Always coming here and telling me that I mistreat men and acting like I should bow to his ways! If I didn't know your genetics better than I know my own I'd think you were a moron instead of one of the smartest people on the planet. I should have insisted that Laurali only have girls like I did! The world doesn't need two green men, always trying to improve energy distribution and being so self-effacing every single moment of their lives. Humph!” She stomped her foot, the right one, in the same way his mother always did before she started laughing at the end of similar fits. It was, more or less, an act, Tor understood. Meant to cow, but also let people know that she wasn't truly angry.
Rolph looked shocked and pale, a bad sign that Lara probably didn't really get, the possible start of combat rage. Kolb had turned red and looked ready to explode and Karina stood stock still, one hand on something in a pocket as if ready to draw a weapon. It had all been directed at Tor though, the harangue, so he shrugged and crossed his arms, tapping his right foot at the Ancient woman that looked a lot like his little sister. The idea made him stop for a second again. She might have the whole Ancient field pattern too, but was she also a copy of Lara? Another copy? Eek. If that was the case he needed to get her away from home as soon as possible and start teaching her to be a bit more accepting of others.
“Alright Granny, vented your spleen properly and all that? Now, apologize to the nice royal family and the hardened warrior that could possibly rip a small hole in your continent by himself and then come give us all a hug and we'll be on our way to set up your nice little prezzies.” His grin was sudden and disarming.
