Emily, at sea, Harvest Season, 6th rot., 4th day – East Coast time
As I approached hailing distance, I began reciting to myself, “I will kill Moo'upegan, but how shall I do it? Oh, I know. I'll turn her into a flea, a harmless little flea, and then I'll put that flea in a box, and then I'll put that box inside of another box, and then I'll mail that box to myself, and when it arrives, ah ha ha ha! I'll smash it with a hammer! It's brilliant, brilliant, brilliant, I tell you! Genius, I say! Or, to save on postage, I'll just poison her.”
I took a moment to regret the lack of an Eartha Kitt in this life. What a wonderful actress and singer she was. Her Yzma was my hero!
But back to real life, I had an Empress Presumptive to murder. I needed to get on with it. "I'll be right back," she says, and then she up and vanishes for the next half day with nary so much as a mindcast or magic breeze to make sure I could find her again. All I could do was head in the direction of where I thought the smoke had been and hope the other ships came into view.
After at least a bell, I began to worry that something might have happened to Moo. That really upset me since I was starting to like the girl. As the sun approached dusk, I finally spotted her resting on a Coyn longship. This made me furious for reasons I still don’t understand. Why did I resent that I was worried?
I spent the last few moments before coming alongside wondering what poison I should murder Moo with.
After ensuring all the lashings between our boats were secure, I jumped the gunwales into the Coyn ship. As I landed, I heard a raspy bass say, “That was good sailing, girl. You really a prophet?”
“Ah, you’ve been talking with Moo,” I had to grimace. “Yes, I won’t lie. The gods have made me their prophet over my objections, and they won’t let me quit. Please don’t hold it against me.”
“You talk funny. Where you from?”
“Foskos.”
“Huh. That’s as far as Canniballand. How you get here?”
“That, my friend, is a long story.”
“We have a few days, assuming you can fish as good as your friend there says. What you call her? Moo?"
I gave Moo my best go-catch-herpes-and-itch glare, "You smeared me with that stupid prophet label, and you didn't even bother to introduce yourself, oh, Exalted One? Did you know that when you put out the fire, you removed my only navigation point to find you again? It’s been a half day since you left.”
The startled look on Moo’s face was gratifying as she realized what she had done to me – though I still felt aggravated at her.
“Exalted One?” the captain echoed.
I made a showy vaudeville bow, “Permit me to introduce you to the Exalted One, the one and only Infanta Moo'upegan nu Mattakwonk, the Empress Presumptive of Mattamesscontess.”
“One and only?” Moo chirped. “I like that. I think I’ll use that in the future as a title.”
That was Moo for you – incorrigible in her innocent rich-kid cluelessness. It also crossed my mind that I could be looking at an adult version of the unquenchable perpetual motion machine named Fedso’as Kas’syo haup Gunndit. That sent a brief shudder down my spine. Then I had to chuckle at the irreverent thought over who would exhaust whom if we locked the two inside a room together, Fed or Moo?
“How do I know that’s an Empress?” the captain asked. “Anybody can buy white and gold cloth. She could be any everyday mage trying to bamboozle us.”
“If everyday mages had my power, captain, there would be no pirates,” Moo replied cheerfully as if it was obvious. “The Cosm as a race would all be dead from killing each other with ruling-class-only charms of death, which is what I used on the pirate crew. It is a charm that only the nu Mattawonk bloodline can cast. I used it after I flew several thousands of hands to put out the fire on your ship before I performed the healing on your injured crew who survived the attack. I regret I did not see you sooner, or I might have been able to save more. I have all the magic power of the royal line of nu Mattawonk. I believe my deeds speak for themselves.
“Besides," Moo smiled in a friendly way, "does it really matter who I am? I'm just someone you rescued from a shipwreck. If it helps, I will at least defray the cost of your hospitality,” she reached inside her white naval officer’s tunic and pulled out a small – for a Cosm – pouch, which she emptied into her lap, revealing at least a dozen watermelon tourmalines, known to Cosm as two-color crystals. Rich silverhairs would pay a fortune to acquire one of these, known for their superb qualities as a magic focus.
“However,” she scooped up the crystals and put them back into the pouch, “I will insist that this largesse be distributed fairly among everyone who aids the Prophet and me.”
Then Moo looked at me, "Ready to stop being angry at me yet?" She smiled hopefully.
“Maybe,” I snarled. “I’ve moved on from wanting to murder you and am now considering how I might ruin the rest of your soon-to-be-miserable life.”
Moo sighed and gave me a patient look that infuriated me until she explained.
"So, you were that worried? I apologize, Beloved. I was thoughtless. I'm new to this partnership business. I've never had to work with someone as an equal before. I may be too accustomed to giving orders with no one to contradict or divert me. I do consult with my advisors and seek out advice, but only because I decided that that was how I wanted to rule.
“Your reaction is normal, Beloved. When you are anxious, like when your stupid friend Moo leaves you to chase pirates and doesn't come back as promised, your body does the same things to your blood that it does when you are afraid, when you fight, or when you are angry. These are all forms of stress. The differentiation between them is all up here, in your brain; it is that brain that decides how it feels in reaction to external events.
“I’m guessing that you saw me resting after I forgot to tell you how to find me. That must have annoyed you, which led you to shift from worry to anger. That reaction is how most bodies work. What you’re feeling is not out of the ordinary. You’ll get over it as soon as your blood normalizes, which will probably take about a half bell. It always takes women more time to recover their temper than men. I have no idea why.”
After this little talk, I realized Moo had little to no self-consciousness. What you saw is what she was. Unbelievable. Maybe she was exactly the fix that Vassu wanted for Mattmesscontess. But her incredible sincerity left me speechless. Did this gal even know how to lie?
“Hey, come here, cuteness,” she reached out her long arms and drew me into them with a levitation charm. Then she wrapped me up and cast a charm of peace on me that worked.
“Does that help, Beloved? You’ll feel better now.”
“Wow, Moo," I said, relaxing for the first time since Spot and I ran into the freak storm, "You're only the second Cosm I've met who can do that to me." I closed my eyes and marveled at the sense of disassociation. I didn't care about anything or anyone, including myself. Just getting up and drowning myself suddenly appealed to me as a good way to get out of this prophet gig I wanted to ditch. I could throw myself overboard in just a few heartbeats. It would be fast, maybe faster than the gods could stop.
*Oh, no, you don’t, little Emily,* Mugash’s voice said inside my head. *You won’t win your bet with Galt if you kill yourself. You’ll realize that as soon as the charm wears off. Go to sleep now.*
And I did.
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Sidros, Singing Shrine, Harvest Season, 6th rot., 4th day, Foskos time
“Well, drat, Sid," Opa sat across from me, "you won't have to take the first two seasons of first-year law." She had my graded law test, which was one of the tests the High Priestess asked me to take yesterday.
I swallowed my delicious barley porridge with bog berries and replied, "How did you get my law test?" I was concerned, if not a little angry.
"I just finished grading it. Our Mistress wanted it before early repast, but then she had to leave for some kind of emergency meeting at the Healing Shrine. So now, I'm stuck with your test and have no one to give it to. You did amazing, by the way, right up to the new law changes, which you obviously haven't learned about, coming from the other side of the mountains."
"Oh." I was utterly deflated. Then, I was confused. 'Wait, why were you grading my test?"
“Don’t you know?” Opa gaped.
“Know what? What should I know?”
“Oh dear,” said a gal trainee seated a few seats down from us. “It looks like he doesn’t know about you, Opa.”
"I believe you are correct, Staysee," Opa rolled her eyes and sighed. "I teach the introduction to Foskan law class for first years, Sid. I'll be your instructor when you pick up the class a year from now when I start teaching the new law changes during Harvest Season. You can come to my class this afternoon and listen in if you want.”
“But you’re a student,” I protested. “How are you also an instructor?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Opa grimaced, “I grew up with an unusual education. Both my parents are legally entitled to act as justicars. I had excellent private tutors all my life, including senior justicars from the Fated Shrine of Galt, arranged for me by legal-minded parents. I'm horrible with things like cooking and cleaning, and my prell playing is embarrassingly lousy, but I know the law, at least on vellum, better than most Priestesses of Galt. In fact, I got a lot of grief from my teachers at the Fated Shrine of Galt when I enrolled here and not there. They were hoping to train me as a justicar. The Holy Kamagishi said I could cross-train at both Shrines and get a duel ordination, but it would add one to two years to my training. That’s frowned on when you’re a silverhair girl because of the push to have children and maximize your period of fertility.”
“Can't you at least study the book portion of your training while caring for a baby?"
“Do you know how much work it is to have a baby, Sid?” Opa frowned at me.
“No,” I replied honestly. “I didn’t meet any babies growing up.”
“No one had kids in your family?”
“I was the youngest, and my grandmother raised me. So, your folks arranged Shrine instructors for you in the law?" When I thought about it, that was just crazy. What sort of parents train their kids in the law? That sounded as bad as my tutoring.
Opa had to be the daughter of a lord holder. “You’re from a great house, aren’t you?” I asked.
Staysee and the students sitting with her all started to laugh hysterically.
“So, a daughter of a great house, it is!” I accused. “Out with it, Opa,” I demanded.
“You...you...” Another trainee gasped for breath, “You better come clean, Honored One. Bwahaha...hahahahah!" The four trainees were helpless with hilarity.
“Honored One?” Opa was definitely from a great house. Only lord holders and their immediate family could use the title of Honored One.
“So, you’re a lord holder’s kid? Which one?” I asked.
The laughing trainees had started to calm down, but my question started them back up.
“Oh dear,” Opa’s face was overwritten with apology as she looked at me. “I thought you knew. What an oversight on my part.” She actually looked upset.
“You better tell the poor kid, Opa,” Staysee snickered with glee at Opa’s sour face.
“Oh, stuff it, Staysee,” an annoyed Opa picked up a morning bun and threw it at the girl.
“Food fight!” an older male trainee shouted from an adjacent table.
Soon, morning buns were in flight everywhere, and Opa was one of the deadliest with her aim. Then I watched as she got a bun right in her eye.
“Ow!” She flinched and then looked at me with command upon her face, “Just don’t stand there, Sid. Pick up a platter, hop on the table, and defend me.”
So I did. I admit it; I had fun smacking morning buns out of the air. I never imagined that I could experience something like this. Mother and Grandma never let me participate in any rough play or sports. The number of other aristocratic children with whom I was allowed to socialize was small, and our meetings were polite affairs that were supervised. Being in a real food fight was exhilarating. I was disappointed when a Voice arrived and stopped the fun.
“You will all cease this nonsense,” a woman’s ringing Voice compelled. We all obediently sat at our tables.
“On the count of ten, I do not want to see so much as a crumb on the floor, so start picking up the mess, now!” the Voice ordered and we hurriedly obeyed.
“That’s better,” the woman with the Voice said, a Priestess in a red ochre robe with grey facings and cuffs. “Now then,” she glared at the room and once again used the Voice of mass compulsion, “who started the food fight?”
Opa stood up, “It was me, Lady Salirsa.”
"Trainee Opa?" the priestess was surprised. "You?" Then she looked at me, and her expression changed to annoyed. "You clever little legal master, Opa, you're assigned to visitor escort, so it won't be up to me to punish you with cleaning duty for a season. It will be our Mistress, who we all know will let you off. But for now, you and your guest can bag up the wasted morning buns and take them to the pig pens at Manse Black. Get moving, Trainee Opa. It will take you at least a half bell, and I know you need to teach this afternoon."
“Your will, Lady Salirsa,” Opa bobbed a bow with her right hand over her heart.”
“Very good,” the priestess glowered at the students in the dining hall. “You may return to your regular affairs, trainees.”
As soon as the Voice left, the students talked and laughed.
“Ooooo! Opa got busted!” a trainee at the end of the table giggled.
“Better not tell your mother!” another chirped.
Opa groaned, “What my mother doesn’t know can’t hurt me.”
“Strict mom?” I asked Opa. “So, who are your parents that they could get you such fancy tutors?”
“Promise you’ll still play lithophone duets with me after I tell you?” Opa pleaded, looking worried.
“Why? It’s not like you’re royalty, right?” In Impotu, the Shrines sent instructors to the palace to educate the imperial children. The imperial family did not stoop to send its children to the Shrines. I assumed Foskos was the same way.
Then Opa’s face went white, “Sid, my dad is Imstay King.” She looked scared to tell me.
I think my stomach fell through the floor. My ears started ringing. Opa's alarmed voice echoed strangely in my ears and made no sense as the room went sideways.
"Sid? Sid?" someone was holding my hand. I felt the warmth of healing magic. I opened my eyes to see a middle-aged silver hair in grey healer robes sitting next to my bed in my guest room. Opa was standing behind her, looking at me with big worried eyes.
“Alright, Sid, are you back with us?” the healer asked, smiling in a friendly way.
I sat up, “Did I pass out?”
“Yes.”
“Sid, I’m sorry,” Opa gushed, looking unhappy. “I thought you knew. When I realized you didn’t, I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I’ve had a lot of bad reactions in the past when people realize Trainee Opa is really Princess Opo’aba haup Foskos. Usually, either I lose a potential friend because people assume I’m a spoiled brat, or they ooze all over me with false friendship, thinking to take advantage of my position. I never had anyone faint on me before. Are you really okay?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly, wondering if I could escape the Shrine, find some hair dye, and get hired as a mule boy on a river boat until I could figure out where to hide. How long would it take to walk up the Stem River to Jutu or Mattamesscontess?
“You’re a refugee from Impotu, right?” the healer asked. “Sid, you’re a guest of a High Priestess. You’re under her protection. No one from the Foskan army is going to chase you here.”
The tears started despite my trying to stay calm. “Foskan soldiers killed my family,” I started sobbing. “I watched my grandmother die. I...I...” I lost control and wailed from all the grief inside of me while Opa and the healer hugged me and rocked me in their arms.
“I can watch him for now, Opa,” the healer said after I calmed down and achieved a merely sniffling state.
“Please? I need to take care of a punishment detail,” Opa said. “Make sure he’s okay.”
“Not a problem, dear heart,” the healer hadn’t let me go. She had my teary, soggy head soiling the shoulder of her healer’s robe as she held me. I was embarrassed at making such an emotional display. I had been raised to hide my emotions and keep a calm face no matter what. I was a disgrace.
“I’ll catch up with you as soon as I get back, Sid,” Opa smiled at me and then ran out of the room.
"So Sid, have you been bottling up all this grief while running from the Foskan army? How long have you been running, child? I'm serious when I say that you're safe here. The High Priestess will not allow any harm to come to a guest. Besides, we're not the barbarian Tirmarrans. We don't eat our captives, nor do we murder children as young as you because of who your parents were.”
I knew that was a lie because Foskos, like Impotu and Jutu, eliminated all the families and relatives of great houses who got on the wrong side of their rulers. The only exceptions were infants and toddlers who would have no memory of their destroyed heritage. I was knowledgeable about Foskan law, as well as the law in Impotu, Jutu, Mattamesscontess, Mattamukmuk, and Kora Kor. Opa wasn't the only one who had had the very best private tutors.
“You know, you’re not the first Impotuan refugee to land at a Foskan Shrine, Sid," the healer said. “We have two at the Healing Shrine in Aybhas, one at the Building Shrine in Omexkel, and one at the Shrouded Shrine in Weirgos. And we have all sorts of refugee and exiled clergy from Impotu taking shelter in Foskos, not to mention many halfhair and nohair Cosm from Impotu and a very welcome contingent of Naver Coyn. If you've made it this far, Sid, you're safe. We have nothing to do with the war on the other side of the mountains. The army isn’t interested in chasing down the handful of noble kids who got away. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. If you want, I can introduce you to some of the other refugee kids enrolled at our Shrines. I know they'll tell you what I'm telling you if you want confirmation."
“I don’t know,” I admitted. I didn’t know what to think. At the moment, I couldn’t get the memory out of my head of my grandmother lying in state in the Harmonious Shrine in Kipgapshegar on the day the Foskan wraith slit the artery in her neck.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
My eyes started leaking again, and I must have wept for another half bell. I was ashamed over my lack of control. My grandmother would have been disappointed in me, which made me feel even worse. When I finally ran out of tears, the healer, whose name was Twipdray, decided that I needed to rest. She promised to wake me when Opa returned.
Then she woke me, "Time to be a morning flower, Sid." I opened my eyes to see her sitting on the bed next to me, with Opa hovering over her shoulder. “Are you feeling hungry at all? It’s almost time for mid repast,” Healer Twipdray said.
I shook my head no.
Opa unwrapped a napkin, revealing a morning bun with clotted cream and bog berry jam oozing out of its middle. I could smell the warm bun, and my mouth started watering.
“You didn’t get to finish early repast so I thought you might want something now,” Opa held it out to me.
I didn’t even think before it was in my mouth and on its way to my stomach.
She grinned at me while my mouth was full, "Like you said, Sid – you aren't the least bit hungry."
“So Sid, do you want to eat mid repast with the trainees,” Twipdray asked, “or would you like to come with me for a stroll through the spice market for some shopping and some street food?”
“Oh, no fair, Revered One,” Opa pouted.
“If you two will play the lithophone for me after you’re done teaching, Opa, dear, I’ll bring you back a skewer of basted mountain goat and nips,” Twipdray offered.
“Sid, will you play the lithophone with me, please?” Opa pleaded.
“Street food?” I asked. “I’ve never had street food.”
“Street food is the best, Sid,” Opa enthused, “especially the skewer grill in the spice market. They make the best nips, and their mountain goat is rat snacks for cats!”
“Rat snacks for cats?” Twipdray turned and gave Opa a look. “Since when did you pick up on that tow road expression?”
“I dunno,” Opa replied with a riverfront drawl and slang, “maybe since I moved down the Salt Riv ways.”
“Surd save us!” the healer priestess rolled her eyes.
“So, will you play with me this afternoon, Sid?” Opa’s dark blue eyes begged me to say yes.
“Sure,” it wasn’t hard to agree. She did bring me the yummy morning bun I had just eaten.