River's Fork was different from how she'd left it last time. For one, there was a lot more traditional carpentry construction visible, rather than just buildings made from Deadspeaking. There were more people bustling about as well, carrying things. The dining hall that had just been completed when they'd last been there was full and had seemingly been expanded, with benches and some sort of cooking area—a grill?—outside of it.
She'd learned how to navigate River's Fork, a little, from the time they'd been ferrying people to her demesne. It involved using the central tree as a reference point, and recognizing which side of it was facing you. She was about a quarter turn away from the beach where they usually kept Lori's Boat, which was her first destination. She needed to make sure that nothing had happened to the waterjet, lest she have to make another one…
Also, she had to find a latrine, apparently she'd been unconscious for more than one day…
Well, at least she was close to the dining hall. They had a row of latrines near there, if she recalled correctly.
The dining hall was starting to fill up with people as she finished her business. While River's Fork apparently still expected each family to make their own meals using food rationed from a central store, lunch at least seemed to take place centrally, so that people could eat quickly and go back to work. The air was filled with the smells of sweat, sawdust, and food being cooked as Lori skirted the edges, going around the place so she could head to her destination and absently stepping around people who weren't watching where they were going and had gotten in her way. The sooner those wheels were done…
Lori came to a sudden stop as someone grabbed her wrist in a tight grip, causing her to stumble in surprise and confusion.
"Tah! I'm talking to you!" the green-haired woman who had grabbed her said.
Lori frowned. "I think you've mistaken me for someone else," she said, trying to pull her wrist free, but to her surprise the woman tightened her grip almost painfully.
"You don't remember me, do you?" the woman said, sounding surprised and angry. "You nearly killed me and you don't even remember."
"I think you've definitely mistaken me for someone else," Lori said, trying to be reasonable as she took deep, even breaths. "Now, please let me go, I have work to—"
The blow swung at Lori's face, but she managed to pull back, and it missed, then there was a flash of pain as the woman settled for a hammer blow to the bicep. The woman was stronger than she looked, because it hurt, as did the second blow to almost the same place, and the third.
Lori didn't let there be a fourth.
Lightningwisps were imbued, and Lori's arm went numb, deadening the pain from the blows as the violent woman started shaking violently, her hand tightening momentarily around Lori's arm in a grip she didn't feel before she let go, stumbling back in confusion and leaving herself open.
Lori, with precision, malice, form and her own anger, stomped the woman in the side of the knee.
There was a distinct crack of something breaking, and the woman collapsed like an argument no one was listening to, screaming in pain. Lori took a step back and got ready to kick the other knee, or possibly the woman's face, whichever—
Someone grabbed her and pulled her back, and then someone was at her other side doing the same, both of them disjointedly yelling, "Calm down!", "Relax!", "Stop, stop!" and other silly nonsense. Lori tried to free her arms, but if anything they held on even tighter and kept pulling her away from the woman, who was now wailing and clutching at her knee, surrounded by people and pointing at Lori, saying something unintelligible because of her crying. Lori imbued the lightningwisps in her arms again, about to force them to release her, when—
"What is going on here?" someone demanded in a firm, authoritative, carrying voice that reminded Lori far too much of some of her old teachers.
The people around her clearly hadn't had any similar experiences, because instead of closing their mouths shut, they all started trying to talk over each other at the same time, the injured woman most of all, sounding completely incoherent as she pointed at Lori while trying to cradle her knee and then stop cradling her knee because it had shifted and suddenly hurt even more. The man who stepped forward looked vaguely familiar though, and Lori was definitely sure she'd seen him before. Now, where…?
The two men had loosened their hold when the man had appeared, and Lori was finally able to pull her arms out of their grip, giving them an annoyed glare as she straightened her shirt. Maybe she should have found a length of firewood or a stick for her to carry or something she could set on fire…
"Binder Lori, is this true?"
Lori blinked, and realized the vaguely familiar man was talking to her. "What is true?"
The man pointed at the fallen woman. "Naineb claims you attacked her without provocation."
"Ridiculous. She attacked me," Lori said. "I've never even met her before, and she just grabbed me as I was walking, rambled about nonsense, and then attacked me with her fist."
"And her broken leg?"
"The woman is clearly violent and not very smart," Lori said. "I had to defend myself and put her down so she stopped being a threat to my person." She frowned. The familiarity was really nagging… "Who are you?"
"I'm Lord Yllian," the man said, sounding vaguely tired. "We've met before."
Lori blinked. "We have?"
The man sighed. "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me to speak with the Great Binder so she can make a judgement on this."
Lori huffed in annoyance. "Very well."
Really, this was so inconvenient. She just wanted to make some wheels so she could leave tomorrow!
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Apparently, Binder Shanalorre normally had lunch alone in her home, cooking her own food. Lori would have wondered whether that was the best use of her time, but then remembered the person in question was an uneducated savant who only knew healing. Currently, she was a figurehead and someone to keep people from dying. Not that Lori wasn't grateful to be kept from dying of infection, but even so, there was only so much Binder Shanalorre could do. So she probably had plenty of time to eat lunch alone at home.
That lunch was being interrupted as Lori, the woman who'd attacked her, Lord Yllian, and some of the local militia were made to wait in the house that Shanalorre used as her ground-level office. It was surprisingly very office-like, with a wall full of writing of what looked like… some kind of tally? It had a Deadspoken table that was full of sheets of either parchment or small scraps of seel leather with more writing, and there was even a basket with 'to wash' written on it full of sheets. There'd been a bench outside, and in her previous visits Lori had seen that bench full of people who wanted to talk to Shanalorre.
Why she didn't have a lord or lady to keep annoyances like that away from her, Lori had no idea. Maybe she was just so lacking in things to do she had to handle talking to her people herself.
The woman had needed to be carried, since she couldn't put any weight on her knee, and she alternated between wailing piteously and swearing vividly at Lori as she was jostled repeatedly on the way to the office. Since the woman seemed to be focusing on accusing a hypothetical father of disturbing sexual practices that resulted in Lori's existence, Lori didn't bother to respond. She didn't have a father.
They'd also been joined by a man who smelled of sawdust, was covered in sawdust, kept giving Lori angry, threatening looks and who kept trying to comfort the injured woman. From the context, he seemed to be her husband. They'd brought the bench inside, and the woman lay on it, trying not to jostle her leg as one of the two doctors left in the demesne—not Shanalorre's uncle, Lori could tell that much— examined it. Apparently, Lori had been unable to break the knee. The crack had been something tearing.
Lori, for her part, kept breathing evenly, taking in magic and readied to unleash the lightningwisps in her arms should it be needed as she leaned against one of the walls. She wished she had her staff with her, or even just a coalcharm. Though if she was wishing, she might as well wish for mastery over all forms of magic…
The door opened quietly, and when Shanalorre stepped inside, she almost seemed furtive, but that was just a product of her size. When she entered, everyone's gaze was on her, as it should be. Even the injured women seemed to try to stifle her whining and moaning in Shanalorre's presence, then ruined it by giving an annoyed look at the back of the younger Binder's head when she just passed by with no comment or deviation.
Shanalorre went behind her table and after a moment's awkwardness settled herself on the tall stool that let her, if not be eye level with adults, at least probably let her be close to it for seated adults. Her gaze was not childlike. It was serious, even imperious, and it looked at everyone in the room, even Lori, like they were wasting her time. The fact her hands were still slightly wet, no doubt from needing to be washed, did not detract from it at all.
"Lord Yllian, please report what happened," she said calmly. Then, she glanced at Lori. "Binder Lolilyuri, please try not to have your mind wander and pay attention."
Lori was mildly offended at the accusation, and resolved to recall how to hide her wandering thoughts better. She used to be able to hide it in school…
"Great Binder," Lord Yllian said, coming to attention. "During the midday meal, I became aware of an altercation. Unfortunately, I was on the far side of the dining hall, so I wasn't able to witness any of it myself, only the aftermath. I found Naineb on the ground with an injured knee and Binder Lolilyuri being restrained and pulled away from her. I went to Naineb first to ascertain her injury, and she claimed that Binder Lolilyuri had attacked her suddenly and without warning, and had been pulled away before she could do more damage."
Lori became aware of the more intense glare the husband was directing at her and frowned at him. Surely he didn't believe that nonsense? He married the woman, he of all people should know she was irrational.
"When I spoke to Binder Lolilyuri," Lord Yllian continued, "she testified that Naineb attacked her, that she had never met Naineb before, and that she had been accosted and attacked while walking, and had merely defended herself."
"That liar!" the Naineb woman cried through gritted teeth. Lori, her own injuries fresh on her mind, could almost sympathize with her pain. Almost.
But she didn't.
"I see," Shanalorre said, nodding as if she agreed. "And what do you say really happened, Binder Lolilyuri?"
"I was on my way to the river to make wheels," Lori said succinctly, "when this woman grabbed my arm." She held up the arm in question. Unfortunately, there was nothing so dramatic as a bruise in the shape of a hand. "I told her she'd mistaken me for someone else, and she began ranting nonsense about my trying to kill her. When I politely asked her to release me again, as I had work to do, she attacked me. I forced her to release me, and then incapacitated her, since she was clearly violent. That was when I was then assaulted by two more people from behind, and they restrained me despite my being the defending party."
"That's not how it happened!" the woman cried.
"Kozya Naineb, be quiet and wait your turn," Shanalorre said levelly. She was being much more patient than Lori would have been. "Binder Lolilyuri, what were you doing at the dining hall? You say you were on your way to the river to make wheels, but the area of the river with the rocks you prefer to use is on the opposite side of the house you were placed to recover in from the dining hall."
"I needed to use that lavatory, since I'd been unconscious for more than a day," Lori said blandly.
Binder Shanalorre nodded. She finally turned to look at the woman, who seemed to be shaking from more than pain. "And you, kozya Naineb? What do you say happened?"
The woman pointed at Lori, then winced as this seemed to change her balance and put pressure on her knee. "I-I was j-just minding my own business when she just kicked me in the knee!" the woman lied outrageously, her voice shaking and stuttering slightly. It would probably be attributed to the pain. "Just like that! I didn't even see her coming! She was going to do it again too, but some decent people pulled her away from me before she could do more. I know she wanted to! I could see the murder in her eyes."
All right, maybe Lori had been aiming more for her head than her knee.
For his part, the husband rounded on Lori, and only some of the militiamen and the doctor physically barring his way kept him from getting too close to her. His words still reached though. "You leave my wife alone, you hear me!" he roared, playing that intimidation game of where he made it look like he was trying to force his way past three men, but allowing himself to be pushed away. "You leave her alone! Haven't you ruined our lives enough?"
That required a response. "I don't even know you people," Lori said blandly. "Why would I even have anything to do with you?"
For some reason, the man gave her the same look of surprise and anger his wife had earlier.
"They were previously from Lorian Demesne," Binder Shanalorre said, as if by way of explanation.
"That means nothing to me," Lori said. "And if they left, then they're clearly not my concern anymore. They are yours, Binder Shanalorre." She gave Binder Shanalorre a level look. "One of your people attacked me. I demand restitution for this unprovoked attack on my sovereign person, or we shall be at war."
War. It was a dramatic statement, and in a proper theater performance or novel, it would the point where there was a dramatic silence as the parties involved all felt the full horrific—and dramatic—import of such a statement. Words like 'unthinkable', 'grim', 'portentous' and other adjectives would have peppered mental narration and monologues, and there might even have been musical accompaniment.
Alas, this was neither a theater performance nor a novel.
"Duly noted," Binder Shanalorre said with a distinct lack of hesitation, drama, quaver, grimness, or any other fittingly appropriate emotion.
Lori wished Rian was there with her and not sleeping. He could have made that statement sound properly dramatic.