The parting with Hans wasn’t nearly as tear-stained as I had thought it would be. Sure, Breale had cried and waved him off, but I felt way less sorrow than I should’ve.
After all, the man had saved my life two or three times by now and was a huge help to have around. He’d certainly be missed as we climbed the pass, and especially so if it turned out that we’d have to take the long way around the horn. Such a journey would be risky, stupid even, to attempt without him and his magic, so I could only wonder as to why I had no tears to shed. Maybe I got them all out in the anticipation of the event? Or perhaps I secretly didn’t like him that much?
The emotions of a lady were truly an enigma. Even to himself.
After our parting, we took the wagon out of the Caelis Deeps and angled north along the mountains. We had a hard time going of it, with no road to blunt the uneven ground. At the very least it was clear of obstruction, and we could see the valley unfold for miles around us, its gleaming snowfields as bright as the very highest of the capital's streets.
We were silent for the first leg, and little talk passed between us as day bled to night. I took the first watch, sitting in muted contemplation with Gideon as we rumbled over rock and ice. The scenery didn’t change much in that dark, other than the gradual obscuration of mist as it rolled down the cliffs to the east. Only the stars themselves remained bright, Celrion and the rest undeniable above the now still land.
To me, such a calm was a pleasant change to the horror and fright we’d seen earlier, to the forest which had filled me with such paranoia.
“This is a real adventure.” I took a bite of the hardtack, trying to ignore the taste by looking up at the impossible walls of the mountain that lay ahead. “I wonder if this is what Frodo fell asleep to every night?”
Frodo wasn’t real, so probably not. Gideon yawned.
I ignored him, imagining what it would feel like to fly through that cloud wall ahead. Would the peaks appear like so many islands in a sea? Frodo had certainly never seen anything like that in his journeys. In fact, this was all much less depressing than Frodo’s, even with the betrayal and all that.
“Frodo also wasn’t possessed by a dragon.” I murmured after a bit. “How much of the old is even left?”
Even while the others slept I felt some paranoia at being overheard, so I didn’t dare use his actual name. Still, the repeated events bothered me enough that it couldn’t wait until we arrived to ask.
The drake continued to stare out into the wastes.
It’s like I said earlier. Familiar experiences put me into his mindset more than mine.
“Was I just talking to Silst then? In the cave?”
Of course not. Gideon thought. I think like him when I see things similar to what he saw. Even when I call you ‘princess’, it is not because I stop ‘knowing’ you are Ryder. It’s because Silst had almost two decades of looking at Saphry and thinking ‘princess’.
“Is that better?”
Think of it like this: when you look at something orange and spherical, you think ‘orange’, right? Well, imagine you suddenly had two years of memories telling you it was actually called a Norrk. You’d then start thinking of it as a Norrk, of course. That doesn’t mean you forgot it was called an orange or that you’re a different person, it just gives you a different perspective.
“Somehow I think you’re making it sound better than it is.”
Yeah, but if you think about it the other way you’ll go insane, so I’ll stay with mine.
I sighed.
“Frodo didn’t have to deal with this mind crap.”
I think you might need to reread that book.
“Who’s Throdoe?”
I jumped in my skin as Fredrick’s voice appeared behind me, and I looked behind me to see him sitting up in his sleeping bag. Behind him, Breale still snored in her own little bundle of fur.
“Eh, a-an old friend of mine.” I stammered.
Fredrick raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
“Really? I wasn’t aware that Saphry Astrian had any friends. How did you meet him?”
“Eh, he was… a travelling jewellery salesman.” I returned my gaze to the front, pretending that I was looking over the mountains again.
Really? Was he perhaps a ring salesman?
“A travelling salesman for jewellery alone? Andorlin is such a weird city.”
The wood creaked behind me as Fredrick pulled himself through the opening. Gideon jumped onto my lap to make room, and he sat down on the bench right beside me. For some reason I felt my nerves stand on edge nervously.
He stared ahead at the same mountains for a while, saying nothing. I didn’t feel the need to break the silence either, as it was obvious that he wanted to speak about something in particular. Fredrick wasn’t really the sit still and vibe kind of guy.
“You’re lying.”
I didn’t move, summoning all my willpower to calm my heart. Had he heard the rest of the conversation? Had I not been careful enough?
“What?”
“You don’t start adding ‘Eh’ to your speech unless you’re nervous.” He said simply. “And you start stammering as well.”
Wait, really? Was he bullshitting me, or did I really do that? If he wasn’t, that might be something I’d have to fix. Such an easy tell was never a good thing.
“You just scared me, I think-ink.”
“No, it’s the beginning of words.” He nodded to himself. “Like th-this.”
I rolled my eyes. It was more than a little irritating that he knew something like that about me. It almost felt like he was some kind of stalker, or maybe a pervert. After all, who else really paid attention to such small speech patterns?
“So-Sorry about that.”
“Better. Now who’s the lucky guy? A fiance?”
I blinked at him in confusion.
“Huh?”
“Throdoe, of course.”
Wait, were we still on that? And why did he jump to fiance? Even for me that seemed like a random direction to go.
“Fiance?” I snapped my head to stare at him. “The heck are you getting that from? He’s just a character from a book I read a long time ago. I’m not betrothed to anyone, as far as I know.”
I mean, I hoped I didn’t. Saphry hadn’t given me any memories of anything like that, other than off-handed jokes from Corto and Marcolo. It had been a while since I had last seen Father, the markee, so it was entirely possible that he’d set up something while I was away, but given what I remembered of his personality I found that a little unlikely.
“Ah! I’m sorry, I just presumed, what with your station.” Fredrick nodded to himself as he returned his gaze forward. “Though that was strangely defencive. Are you not prepared for something like that?”
I glared at the twin again, irritated with myself.
Arranged marriages weren’t an uncommon thing in Verol, and not just for the nobility either. Farmers and skilled workers would do things like that all the time, trying to consolidate assets and expand their children’s future. As far as I knew, such unions weren’t normally seen as the evil abuses they were often depicted as in modern Earth stories, but were almost always for the benefit of the newlyweds. In fact, in the many, many romance stories Saphry had read, it was seen as a romantic and good thing, used as often to set up a valid love triangle as often as not. In opposition to modernity, the guy whoever the protagonist was being wed to was almost never depicted as fat, greedy, or excessively old, but rather as a secondary protagonist or someone for the girl to rely on. Of course, as an American, I still found the practice to be closer to forced enslavement than love, but it was only one of the many things with Veroline culture I disagreed with.
Especially because it was an all-too-real possibility for Saphry.
“I’m not really the type to settle down.” I set my gaze on the horizon again, hoping the terse answer would have him drop it. Marriage was really low on my list of worries right now, and I definitely didn’t want to start thinking of it.
I had never really been too entirely interested in stuff like that anyway, even back on Earth. Yeah, sure, I had a girlfriend or two… well maybe just one, but that doesn’t matter. I had quickly found such a relationship way too limiting for ‘heroic’ duties, not even to mention studies and work. It was tantamount to throwing away any ambitions you had in my opinion.
“Really? You strike me as the kind of girl who’d do anything for the one she loved.” Fredrick said. “Breale thought so too.”
I took a deep breath, already knowing the game here. The only winning move was to change the subject or turn it back on him. But how best to diffuse it though?
“Ah, but are you sure you’re not just projecting your own feelings?” I asked. “Fredrick is always there when people need him, after all, and all too willing to help lighten the mood. In fact, I’ve heard that Prince Andril has always had you by his side and ready to relieve him of his troubles.”
The atmosphere grew tense, and I couldn’t help but stifle an internal maniacal laugh.
I've grown since our last spar, Mr. Maverick! It would be you withdrawing at the end of this duel, not me! You would regret picking on such a competent foe!
“Andril and I are old friends.” Fredrick eventually said. “Though it surprises me that you would see such a relationship between us. Are you one of those who fantasises over perceived love between men?”
I scoffed, trying not to let the jab affect me. Though I knew perfectly well that Saphry actually was that kind of person, with a quarter of her well-read bookshelf in the capital to prove it. I counted such memory releases as the third worst possible outcome whenever I fell asleep each night.
“I never insinuated such a thing! I simply made an observation. You were the one to bring such a thing up.” I shook my head. “Alas, this must be yet more projection from the vulnerable warrior. I can only hope you don’t use me as fuel in some all-girl fantasy of yours.”
We stared at each other for a couple seconds while what I said sunk in before both of us turned away simultaneously as the atmosphere turned awkward.
The thought of him doing that suddenly wouldn’t leave my head, and I couldn’t help but internally scream at myself in an attempt to purge it from my mind. And why did I bring up yuri? Of all the things, that specific one had actually been a valid question in my mind.
Stolen novel; please report.
Why the [fuck] did I think about that? Why did I have to put such a scenario in my own damn head! For [fucks] sake, it didn’t even matter!
“You shouldn’t say such things, Miss Astrian.” He said stiffly. “It’s not proper.”
You think I don’t know that? I’m just stupid!
Torpedoing her reputation one sentence at a time. Gideon thought.
“Perhaps not.” I agreed. “But you didn’t deny it. I think that means I win.”
If I was to go down, I was sure as hell going to bring him down with me. Or at the very least I wouldn’t lose alone.
“Says the person who turned red as fire!” He cried. “You can’t just claim victory if you can’t take your very own jabs.”
“A proper captain goes down with her ship.” I felt my face continue to burn, but it was too late by this point. It was all or nothing. “Even when she sinks the ship herself.”
“Perhaps we should turn around to collect Master Hans again.” Fredrick threatened. “He would have words about such impropriety.”
I cringed as I thought about the sermon such a conversation would’ve surely resulted in with the giant paladin to witness it. Homosexuality wasn’t quite illegal within Verol, but neither was it anywhere near commonplace. It simply existed in the strange grey area where parents and priests would tsk and moan but nothing would be done about it. And so of course it flourished as a popular literary genre within the kingdom, as all strange grey areas did.
“And yet you haven’t denied it!” I tried. “Absolutely disgusting.”
“Of course I don’t think about such things! Just what do you take me for?”
The door behind us slid open suddenly, and Breale poked her head out to stare at us. She looked as if we had just woken her up from a long nap, which was exactly what we’d done.
“Can you two keep it down? Or at least agree that Saphry with another girl would be the best outcome here?”
God damn it Breale.
I hid my face in my hands while Fredrick let out a long, drawn out sigh. Having Breale cut in was simply too embarrassing to handle.
“Please go back to bed, Sister.” Fredrick finally said, his own face pinkish. “I think this is your win, Saphry.”
“Eh… I think we both lost here.”
…
“Saphry.” Fredrick said. “Do you remember what I asked Father Hans right before we said goodbyes?”
We had travelled for almost a day without our paladin, the majority of our time spent ascending to the High Road. A task that would’ve been way easier if we had actually approached it from the road connection and not the south, but that was a lesson for another trip.
“Something morbid.” Breale called from behind. She lay on her back on the back bench looking up at the sky, a mannerism she’d probably picked up from me over the last week.
“Something about choosing between nobles and peasants, right?”
“Yes.” Fredrick peered curiously at me. “What did you think about his answer?”
I studied his face before I thought about it. He had a hard look to his eyes, making it clear that he disagreed with the giant of a paladin.
I, however, couldn’t find anything wrong with Hans’s response. How could I? He’d practically just said ‘human life is equal’, which was in my opinion an undeniable fact. ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal…’ in the words of Thomas Jefferson.
“What’s wrong with what he said?” I asked carefully. “It shouldn’t matter who you are, everyone has an equal right to life.”
“In an ideal world, I’d agree.” He clicked his tongue, clearly expecting a different answer from me. “But isn’t it obvious that nobility should receive such help first? Only the naive would think otherwise.”
Ah, yes. The curse of monarchism strikes again. It really wasn’t a surprise that Fredrick held such views, especially not after his upbringing as an heir, but it wasn’t one I particularly agreed with.
I apparently made some strange expression, for I felt Gideon dig his claws into my thighs.
Ryder…
I shook my head. There were different standards here, and support for feudalism was probably the biggest change. It was perhaps a suffocating and backwards mindset, but it wasn’t my job to enact vast societal change either. Or maybe be executed while attempting to enact vast societal change that nobody wanted.
“Why is that?” I challenged. “The Star created all of us equally, didn’t it? In the eyes of the heavens, it would be wrong to favour one group more than another.”
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to argue, of course. I liked arguing.
“But it’s obvious that some are favoured by luck more than others. Some are granted the strength to lead and rule, and others the knowledge to plant and feed. There are obvious differences between a noble and peasant, so wouldn’t a blind pick or, even worse, favouring the peasants be the wrong choice?” Fredrick crossed his arms, drilling his eyes into my side. “We are the protectors and leaders of man, the only defence against disorder and the darkness. Why then, would a peasant be offered the same protections as us?”
“We’re not quite to the ‘leading men’ part yet.” I pointed out. “Nor are Breale and I even likely to get there, not with our brothers in the way.”
“I am not as stubborn as Andril to believe that women gentry should stay estranged from the bases of power.” Fredrick glanced towards the back meaningfully. “And we are trained for the role, our lives dedicated to such a task.”
“And why would that make us better than any other man?” I asked. “We were kind of born into this role by happenstance and privilege.”
Even in this world, I hadn’t gotten any signals that such a system was different, or that the nobility was truly divinely ordained. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d seen some of the worst side effects of the system already, what with the senate’s machinations. All I’d seen so far has been politics and games from my time in the capital, and I could see no way that would be changed if you expanded it nationwide. No, this was simply a system of oppression and power, that much was obvious to me.
“Besides,” I continued. “Aren’t we on the run because of political schemes right now? How could people willing to murder and lie possibly be better than a simple peasant growing our kingdom’s food.”
“I think you demonise our foes far too much.”
Fredrick kept a calm demeanour, idly tossing aside my argument like water in a pail.
“The senate does not accuse Andril for no reason, nor do his enemies frame him for spite.” He continued. “The prince has irritated and made an enemy of dozens in Verol, and just as many more believed his speeches to mask a more insidious demeanour. In the end, they wholly believe that such an action will benefit the realm, of that I have no worry. They simply lead, trying to steer Verol into the path they see in the stars.”
I raised an eyebrow. This sounded remarkably like Fredrick was endorsing Lord Agos’s plot, which was more than strange given how he had helped investigate him for the past month. And wasn’t Andril his friend?
“Do you agree with the plotters?” I asked. “Because-”
“Of course not.” Fredrick snapped. “They are misguided or tricked. They are only human. But they work with a determination that should be admirable to us, one that affords them more privilege than a common peasant.”
“The determination to lie, steal, and murder for political and financial gain should make them more equal?” I chuckled as I led the wagon unto another switchback. “Oh yeah, I’m sure the Everstar would really love to hear that.”
The twin peered at me strangely.
“Saphry, just how faithful are you to the Star?”
Well, that was a weird question to ask, wasn’t it? Why would he… Ah, was it possible I mischaracterized the star a little? I’d always just assumed that it was just like the christain God for some reason, but it was possible that it was more violent or strange. Certainly Saphry hadn’t attended enough church services to care.
“I pray, I suppose. Why?” I said.
It was true, and the Everstar was definitely referred to as ‘God’ on rare occasions. The fact that it might be a completely different one was irrelevant.
“The church teaches stability above most.” Fredrick said. “Stability to hold against our foes, stability for peace, stability to feed those around us.”
“And that matters to this argument because…?”
“Didn’t you say that ‘everyone has an equal right to life’?”
I finally saw where this was heading, so I nodded.
“Then think of it like this: when a peasant dies to a demon, we lose a worker, a farmer. Perhaps a small harvest, a dozen swords, or, if we’re unlucky, a talented mage. This, of course, is a travesty. People lose a little faith in the church, in the state to protect them. Maybe if it happens enough a town is devastated or a ducal capital deprived of a little food. That’s awful, right?”
I nodded again.
“Now assume that a noble dies, or in the case of my question to Hans, three die. In that case, the fallout is much worse. A region is left without leadership, beheaded by fell intention. Harvests are unorganised, stockpile collection is neutered. In the worst case, a markee bordering Brepoli, Doux-Burgund, or, Star-forbid, Brinion’s Wall is killed, and our garrisons on the border lie directionless for a few days. In that case, we might face invasion, and the loss of thousands. And even if it were some interior baron, his death has an impact on hundreds more than a peasant does. It is the loss of a trained servant of Verol, the deprivation of our duchies of valuable foodstuffs.”
“Yes but-”
“Nor can you truthfully lay accusations of avarice and gluttony upon the class. If there is one thing the Star detests, it is not the inequality that Master Hans would tout, but the deprivation of resources that could be used to defend Verol.” Fredrick looked up to the stars, where the bright constellations shone down like candle lights in the night. “I have never met an unfaithful noble, Saphry. Not in all my travels. Not in Summark, in Ostip, nor even in Brepoli. Never have I walked upon a land purposefully and malicely drained by its lord. And why would they? Even the most cynical lord would plan for the future, even the most black-hearted magistrate would care for those he has been divinely ordained to protect.”
I tapped my foot on the wagon bench as I waited for him to finish.
“Knowing that, how could you possibly save the peasant first?” Fredrick concluded. “Those injured by the death of the noble have just as much right to a good life as the peasant, and they number more than the one lost.”
I hated to admit it, but that was a decent point. I still didn’t agree, of course, but I had never been a proper debater either. It wasn’t likely I could change his mind on something like this, especially not without some prep time to get my arguments in order. But I was still loath to just hand him a victory.
“Those are anecdotes, Fredrick.” I tried. “Power leads to avarice and scheming, and inherited power doesn’t even weed out the stupid from trying. Why, I’m sure there are dozens more qualified peasants than me to rule a country.”
I had never been well suited for the desk work of administrative duty, nor did I count myself as particularly persuasive. The thought of ruling an entire mark like Summark, no matter how unlikely it was right now, seemed like a monumental task to overcome, and I wanted no part in it. I was not a leader of anyone but myself.
“Our divine inheritance leads to stupidity to you?” Fredrick sounded scandalised.
“I…Breale? Help?” I looked pitifully back at the wagon where Breale laid.
“I agree with Brother, sadly.” She sounded bored out of her mind.
“What about the republic then? They are able to live without robber barons and desp-” I floundered for a second as Fredrick eyebrows raised. “I mean nobles and lords. Surely anyone could do the job we’re trained for, not just a noble. Should they not deserve the same rights?”
Doux-Burgund, one of the three realms that had split off from the old Verol, was the only large state around that ruled in any semblance of democracy. It was only in the form of a limited republic, but it worked well enough for my point.
“Doux-Burgund barely functions.” Fredrick scoffed. “There’s a reason ‘burgund’ is an insult. The only reason they exist is the two mountain ranges they have between any sort of threat.”
Unfortunately, I had no idea whether that was true or not. Saphry hadn’t really devoted herself to histories, nor could I claim to be such a scholar. Gideon would probably know, from his readings and memories alike, but he seemed entirely uninterested in helping me at all, choosing instead to snooze on my lap.
“Then what about this: assume you have to kill two peasants or one noble, and there are no consequences for either.” I paused for a second as I realised how [fucked] up that was. “Well, eh, which would you choose?”
“The noble of course.” Fredrick said quickly. “Though my answer wouldn’t change if there were six of them. If a noble can die without any consequence, he does not deserve to live in the first place.”
“Alright…”
[Jesus], okay. I didn’t know Fredrick was so hardcore about that.
“Forget it.” He waved it away. “It just troubled me when Father Hans said that.”
I glanced towards the twin, finding him more dour than angry. He seemed to be thinking over something, and I was sure it wasn’t just our argument. I had no idea what it could be, though.
You know, I didn’t really know the twins too well, did I? Or Andril and Auro for that matter. They were all just people I’d sort of hung around for the last month, not people I’d really confided in. It was obvious why I couldn’t, of course. There was no way I could really trust people I was actively lying to.
But now, I almost wished that I could.
“Hey, listen-” I began.
We’re about to crest.
At that moment Gideon shot to his feet and pointed his snout towards the front. Fredrick and I lifted our heads, only to see that we were coming over the swell we’d been climbing for the last half hour.
A raised valley between the mountains to the north and south opened up before us, frigid and covered in isolated groves of trees. Brief flurries of dark snow blew down from the clouds above, and I could barely see the old stone road that snaked through its sunken centre. At its narrowest point, huge ice and rock blocks closed in from the sides, looking like glaciers in their scale. A thick mist hung about the pass, but the morning sun was beginning to rise in the east and set it brightly aflame in the oranges and yellow hues of the coming day.
But at the centre of the pass far off, I could clearly see the road between. Uncovered and pristine.
“It’s clear.” Fredrick said. “We’ll be in Minua by the end of the week.”
Before I could say anything back the faint call of a flute behind us, sharp and constant, floated between the roars of wind. It was a familiar melody, like that of march song.
“We might want to speed that along a little.” I said.