Dear Diary,

I'm beginning to suspect that Larry Lancaster and his brother may not be the biggest bigots in the Lancaster area, which is pretty fuckin' awful if you ask me. Impressive, too, but in a 'how can you be that awful and not twig to it' kind of way.

So yesterday, after finding the horrific conditions at the Davis farm, we spent the day making them a little less horrific, what with burying bodies, Curing and Healing the sick, and sorting out what supplies were available. After the ten of us finished dinner in the big common room in the farmhouse, Larry waved me over right before I was headed to my tent. I hadn't been able to bring myself to displace any of the women, and the men in the house skeeved me too much to sleep in a room they'd slept in, let alone a bed. Most of the female cadets agreed with me, but Fred, Larry, and Bonita decided to risk whatever awfulness Farmer Davis and sons had left in their beds. I didn't know where the farmer was, nor did I care, but his sons had moved into the bunkhouse with the healthier workers.

"Commander, I had a thought regarding the civilians."

I'd barely pushed myself to my feet, and after dealing with the horrific levels of PTSD in the women of the Davis farm all day, I wasn't really keen on standing around. I fell back into the chair at the end of the table and waved him to one end of the benches that ran down each side. "What's your thought?"

He nodded, sat down, and said, "I understand why you brought Mrs. Lands and her husband along, and I suspect you're intending to bring the civilians from the Davis farmstead along too, yes?"

I set my elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned my head on my fist. "That was kinda my plan, since we're also planning on taking the self-mobile food with us. Also, wouldn't she be Mrs... what's Andre's last name?"

Larry flinched a little at that. "He doesn't have one. I don't know of any Bag on Lancaster lands that do. I suspect he'll be taking her last name." He heaved out a sigh. "I'm sorry, commander. After a lifetime of hating Bag for no reason other than everyone around me growing up hating them, it's hard to accept him as a relative, even a shirt-tail one. I'm trying to do better, but my reactions... suck."

That tickled my curiosity. "Relative?"

He nodded. "Women and the men of Cadet branches of the family carry the name 'Lands', rather than 'Lancaster'." He shrugged. "Unless something happens to Lachlan, my own sons might well carry the surname 'Lands'. Heroes with the 'Lands' surname are eligible to rejoin the House proper and reclaim the Lancaster name. They can even inherit should the current head of house decide none of the sons of his body are as worthy."

"So Azalea is what, your cousin or something?"

He nodded again. "Likely distant enough that no one in Lancaster House remembers, but if she's like most Landses, she can tell you each member of her ancestry back to the Lancaster that started her branch."

A thought struck me, and I let it out because I wasn't awake enough to keep it in. "Bastards carry the Lands name too, I'm guessing?"

Lancaster shot me a rueful grin and shook his head. "Bastardy isn't really a thing at Lancaster House." When I gave him a confused look, he winced and explained, "Lancaster men do not marry. It's assumed any child born of a woman in Lancaster House is a child of one of the Lancaster men."

I took a deep breath, realizing that the only reason I hadn't gone off was the melancholy depression gripping me. "Lancaster House has a room like that, too, doesn't it?"

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. "The women's rooms in Lancaster House are palatial compared to that," he nodded toward the kitchen and the room beyond, "but they're still locked from the outside."

I chewed on that for a bit while he sat there looking uncomfortable. Eventually I said, "Y'know, you almost sound like you realize how awful that is."

He sighed an nodded. "I have come to that realization, yes."

"Your mom still alive and locked in the," I paused, looking for the right words. Finally I just went with, "Lancaster House breeding pens?"

He winced again. "I... don't know. We're not encouraged to interact with them in any way except..."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Except fucking them, I'm guessing?" A brief, wincing nod was his only answer. "You guys realize how that's gonna wind up screwing you over with inbreeding or some shit eventually, right?" He took a deep breath and wouldn't meet my eyes. "Look, Larry. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I get that you haven't been in a position to do jack shit about jack shit. You're not even the fucking heir, what with Lachlan being a Lancaster House poster boy and all. If this shit," I waved my arm vaguely toward the kitchen, "is typical? I can't even blame you for buying into it as a kid. I appreciate that you're trying to do better. Probably enough that I'd cut you slack if you backslid..."

He cut me off, raising his head and glaring right into my eyes. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't cut me slack if I backslide. If there is one virtue Lancasters prize which isn't just a vice painted over with custom, wealth, and power, it's integrity. If I slide and no one calls me on it, I may not realize. Worse, I may keep sliding until I'm right back where I started."

I shot him a twisted grin and pointed at him. "That? That right there? That's why I'd cut you slack. But I would definitely fucking call you on it and expect you to fix whatever you fucked up by backsliding."

He thought about that for a minute. "Fair. Thank you, commander."

"Now, what didn't you want to tell me about the whole incest, inbreeding thing?"

"The men of Lancaster House aren't encouraged to form any lasting bonds with the women of the house. The women... how could they not know their own sons?" He shook his head, looking a little green. "The women of Lancaster House are... encouraged... to avoid carrying any pregnancy to term if it's from a man too closely related to them. By whatever means necessary."

"Fucking Hell, Lancaster." I couldn't even get up a decent mad on, although this bullshit did its dead level best. "Why the fuck would... how the fuck do you keep this shit going?"

"If no one argues against it, it becomes custom."

"You're telling me the women don't argue against it?"

He shook his head. "How would anyone hear them, locked in the women's rooms?"

"Fuck. You telling me that this shit goes all the way down to the guys working in the fields?"

He got another lopsided, rueful smile and said, "most of the lowest rungs of society on Lancaster lands have more..." He trailed to a stop, then barked out a laugh full of guilt and self-loathing in equal amounts. "More traditional marriages. But how are they going to protest the Heroes who keep them safe from things like we fought on the way here?"

"Dragons are that common?"

He shrugged again. "Common enough that I've seen heads displayed in front of the House twice in my life already. Wyverns and Drakes even moreso. That's not even mentioning things like bears, wolves, rocs, bandits... Lancaster lands are the edge of civilization. We regularly see things others don't." He shrugged. "Perhaps the Riders or Rosens see something similar, but their lands are far less extensive."

"Well. Shit. That would explain it. I'm guessing anybody who does complain gets offed?"

"Why kill them when you can emasculate and enslave them for the crime of 'disrespecting a Hero'?"

Something clicked. "That's what you did to Davis, isn't it?"

"I thought it appropriate, given you waxing so wroth you dared not apply justice yourself."

I took a deep breath, then let it all out, letting go of my disgust and anger at Larry with it. Fucker deserved it, even if I wouldn't ever have done that to him. "None of this is what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?"

"No, commander. That would be choosing four men with some woodscraft from the civilians, leaving two here and sending two back to the Lands' farmstead, leaving enough provisions with each to last them until the Spring Equinox."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. First, to keep watch to make sure nothing sneaks past us toward Phileo. More importantly, though, to send anyone coming from outlying farms toward Lancaster House, and give them word regarding the Plague and how we're combatting it."

I chewed that over for about thirty seconds, then said, "makes sense. Make it so."

He pushed himself to his feet and said, "thank you, commander, I will. If you've no further need of me?"

I shook my head, reached up a hand, and let him hoist me out of the chair I'd been sitting in. "Thanks, Larry. Rest up, we're back on the trail tomorrow."

"I know, commander. See you in the morning." He saluted me, then turned toward the master suite when I returned it. For my part, I stumbled out to my tent and collapsed into it.

Kitten, you there?

Yes, Goof. Did you want me to visit?

Nah. Sleeping in a tent, and I'm kinda exhausted.

Did you want me to bring you back here for the night?

Not tonight. Don't want to abandon my guys, even, y'know, symbolically. Ask me again tomorrow, though.

I will. Good night, Goof. Sleep well. I love you.

Good night, Kitten. I love you. Love to Marie and the menace.

I think I fell asleep before I finished that last bit.

The following day we hit the road, the Volunteer units rotating snow-stomping duty while our ever increasing baggage train followed along behind us. I probably spent half of the time walking backwards or sideways, watching the tail end of the train to make sure it hadn't been attacked by wyverns, or water buffaloes, or fucking drop bears or some shit.

That's why I got such a good view of Farmer Davis trudging along at the back of the pack, a travois tied to his shoulders, his arms tied together in front of him. On the one hand, the fucker had it coming. On the other, I wasn't sure I could do that to somebody. As I thought that, images of the Oranges floated from my memory. I guess maybe I could do something like that to somebody.

Don't know if that means I'm a villain, a hero, or just a dumb bitch trying her best to keep my people safe. Of course, 'my people' kept getting bigger, no matter how I tried to keep it manageable.

I took Saffron up on her offer after dinner after telling Lancaster I'd be back in the morning.