’Mia and ’Tok looked at each other across a stack of proposals. Most sane people would be eager to fob off the job of writing the bylaws for board meetings. It was tiresome work. It required a frightening degree of legal precision and a high level of understanding the practicalities of running a meeting with a lot of rich, powerful, opinionated people in it. Fortunately, they had a lot of models to work with.

“None of these are bad, exactly, but they are also way too complicated. This is going to be the template for corporate boards for at least the next hundred years or so. We need to keep it simple and flexible.” ’Tok shook his head in irritation.

“Too simple and too flexible means people just go around in circles and nothing gets done. A meeting needs to be on rails. Turn up at time x, do A then B, then C. All Items for C must be circulated N weeks in advance of the meeting, per rule 6.2-” ’Mia waived her hand in a circle. She was irritable too.

’Te was three days overdue. Which was fine! Lots of things could slow you down on the road, in the winter. They worried anyway. Lots of ways to die on the road, in the winter, through the mountains, during a spike in bandit attacks, with the Collective roving around, and who knows what the Langpopo were up to… And ’Tok had sent him to Red Mountain, and ’Mia had cheered him along.

“Screw it. Let's break for lunch. Can we agree it’s between numbers three and seven?” ’Tok shoved his chair back. ’Mia nodded and stood as well. They walked over to the private dining room and settled in.

“Think I’ll get the smashed cucumber salad, and a couple of pastries. Feel like something sweet. How’s the school project going?”

“Pretty good. I’m going to have Gentian do a little public speech promoting it.” ’Tok sounded a little proud of Gentian, though ’Mia was sure he didn’t notice.

“Really? Why? Or rather, why her?”

“She’s fairly popular- local girl made good, “straightened out” that Xia weirdo who now dotes on her publicly. If we can frame things, at least by implication, that she persuaded me to start this huge wave of education in the city, or put another way, huge wave of public benefits…”

“Isn’t that exactly what she did?” ’Mia asked innocently.

“Absolutely not! The education program is a time honored tool for the Xia to integrate with the Clanless.” ’Tok was resolute.

“Right, right. Of course.”

“Oh not you too. I get enough of it from ’Ja.”

“How is ’Ja, anyway? Haven’t seen her for a bit.”

“Running around like her hair is on fire at work, then a complete cuddlebug at home. I don’t know what it is, but she has been very affectionate. It's… nice. It’s also nice watching her train Gentian, if I’m honest. She’s strict with her, but never cruel.” He shook his head. He knew that discussions of sex or romance made ’Mia uncomfortable, so he left it there.

“I would marry her again in an instant. I don’t regret a single hour of my fifty years of devotion to her.” ’Tok left the words behind his lips, which curled into a soft smile.

“You are thinking something soppy, aren't you.”

“I absolutely am. Let’s get some bread and oil in first, while we wait for the main.” ’Tok summoned the servant.

“Excellent idea. Changing topic dramatically, the re-staffing project in the bank is going slowly, but fairly well. We are getting some competent people trained up, and now that there are fewer interest groups to balance, organizing them is a little easier.” ’Mia said contentedly.

“Excellent. Hey! What have I told you about seasoning the oil? Season your damn bread.”

“You said that, and I ignored you. Seasoning the oil is the only true path in this benighted world.” ’Mia contentedly added more salt and pepper flakes to the bowl of oil. “We should have a little pot of pureed garlic as a condiment on the table. Stir a dab of that into the oil too. It would be delicious, I bet.”

“Monster. One must never commingle funds OR condiments.”

“Hush you. It’s delicious and you know it. Now… lets talk war.”

“Oh joy.” ‘’Tok looked gloomily at the adulterated oil. It’s not that he didn’t understand the logic, it’s just that he wanted his bread flavored his way. Not some compromise oil. His way. “What do you want to talk about specifically?”

“Clan preparedness and doctrine is handled by Central House, but I think we can do more to fortify the Bank itself. We would be a priority target, after all.” ’Mia said.

“True, but turning the Bank into a bastion would be… politically unwise at the moment.”

“Yeah, I was thinking of a number of more discreet steps. We don’t have a real wall, but we do have a fence. I think we can subtly reinforce that fence, make it harder to push over. Put some spikey ornaments on top of it. Reinforce the gate and have heavy wooden props ready to keep it closed if someone rams it.” She ticked the items off by tapping on the table.

“Then there are the drapes.” She continued.

“Excuse me?” ’Tok sputtered.

“The drapes. Right now, they are cotton and woodsilk, to better display our wealth. You know what those two fabrics have in common?”

’Tok shrugged.

“They are both very flammable. We don’t have hardened glass. Any prick launching fire arrows through the window, or worse, fire bombs, can start a fire going very easily. On the other hand, if we switched to wool “To better retain heat in the winter,” it would only smolder. Not burn.” ’Mia dug into her fish.

“That would not have occurred to me. Interesting. Also, none of this is too expensive, so sure. Submit a proposal and we’ll get it done.” ’Tok nodded approvingly.

“Oh, there is more. And this is where it gets expensive.”

“Now I’m worried.”

“Guns. Both in the sense of handheld firearms and little anti-personnel swivel guns.” ’Mia sounded like she was proposing a new ink supplier.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“What? ’Mia! How, exactly, do we get them? Who is even manufacturing them? Where would they get the steel?”

“The answer to all your questions is “The Langpopo” and “Who knows?” Not too hard to acquire from… informal merchants… but it would be damn expensive. You need a certain weight of fire to make said fire effective. We have our ordinary guards armed with high powered repeating crossbows and halberds. The First Class guards are all kitted out to the N’th degree, but we only have a few of them and they are even more expensive than second hand Langpopo guns. I want at least fifty of the coil guns, a hundred if we can source them, and two, minimum of small cannons. The latter we can make, actually, if we don’t mind one-shot cannons.” ’Mia added the later as a concession, as she could see the vein on ’Tok’s temple throbbing angrily.

“Where in my Bank do you see an arms manufacturing plant?” He snarled.

“Not in the Bank itself, but, you can make a one-shot cannon out of almost anything. A thick tree trunk well wrapped in rope, for example. And black powder is easy to make. The real challenge will be making it an effective weapon, that is, something people can actually use in a battle. Training is tough, for one thing.”

It is likely that the famously even tempered Xiatoktok would have said something intemperate, but the moment was saved by the arrival of pastries. Xiatokmai dug in with gusto. She was hungry. And she knew she would be getting her guns.

Gentian stood next to the speaker, looking calm and elegant. Her long red hair fell in twists and curls down one shoulder, with a fetching (and discreetly warm) cap perched on her head. She had been carefully costumed to look wealthy and elegant, but not too wealthy. The elegance was expected to do a lot of the heavy lifting there, and thanks to some top notch tailoring and a very flattering cut, it did. She knew she looked good. She knew she had the material memorized and rehearsed to a degree of intense polish. She was still flapping and spinning in circles on the inside.

How, in the name of all that’s holy and good, did a tree cutter's daughter find herself addressing the Grain Merchants Benevolent Society? Well, that was part of the speech. What wasn’t part of the speech, and what was making her flap, was that her Mistress made it very clear that if her idea didn’t work, they would all likely be murdered by the same people who were in the crowd today. And she was young and pretty, and now a fine, elegant lady, so they might take a while to get to murder. Mistress was very clear on that point, providing plenty of pictures and testimonial evidence of what happened when a city turned on the Xia.

Honored Wife. Right. Honored Wife. Or has it changed again? In her heart of hearts, she still thought of them as Master and Mistress, but she enjoyed playing along with their bickering game. A little warm coal formed under her heart.

Those two were so in love, it was embarrassing to watch. And they really liked her. She could feel herself being made more and more wholly part of the family. She didn’t know if she was falling in love with her new family, but she had long since fallen in like. Gentian smiled a secret little smile. Alright, she was flapping. She was scared. But she would do this.

The speaker finished her introduction, and Gentian stepped in front of the crowd.

“Honored members of the Grain Merchants Benevolent Society, it is my very great pleasure to speak to you today.” Gentian paused for a moment, then grinned. “A pretty turn of phrase, isn’t it? “My very great pleasure?” One might imagine (another pretty turn of phrase) that I had spent my life learning to speak with such fancies flying across the breakfast table. But I didn’t.”

She looked over the crowd. The mood was best summed up as “polite interest.” She could work with that. She deliberately switched into the backwoods accent she had so carefully trained out of herself.

“Maw Maw and Pa din have no such talk roun’ the table. No, they did not, and they like would tan the hide or loosen the teeth of whatever fool came yawping roun’.”

The crowd chuckled. Some genuine giggles of surprise. Gentian returned to her normal accent.

“Yep. Backwoods girl come to the big city. You’ve all heard stories like that. The only difference is that my father insisted that us kids be able to read the Hymnal and the Testimonies, because there weren’t enough people around for a Chanticleer. So we read. And we learned our sums.”

She looked around the room, smiling a bit, then turning a little sad.

“Story of my life right there- tragedy strikes, so study. Mother died? Set the daughter to work on the books. Father dies? Time to go to the city and learn. Get brutally dumped by my beau, catch a certain society matron’s eye…” More laughter. “And you learn you haven’t really studied a single thing yet.” Some nods at that.

“My whole life has been transformed, unquestionably for the better, by education. From starving in a dark, drafty cabin in the back woods to sleeping on silk, it was all built on books. On education. And I want to share that blessing with my people. I want to look around this great Cathedral City of ours and see people liberated, free to do the work that best suits them. See people contributing to each other in ways they could not imagine today, for they have never had the benefits of education. See the Throng rise up and prosper, lifted on strong faith and knowledge.”

Gentian squared her shoulders and looked firmly across the crowd.

“I will tell you plainly that I see this whole project as an act of religious devotion.” The crowd looked surprised at that. Gentian was surprised at how sincerely she meant it. “We are the Joyful Throng. Yes, my name is Xia Gentian, but I was born in the Throng and dance with the Throng, and it is my faith and trust that my voice will be raised in eternal ecstasy after my death, glorifying and redeeming this treasure world of ours.” This got a burst of applause.

“I will tell you plainly that I see this project, these schools, as an act of religious necessity. We teach our children- if your neighbor is hungry, you are hungry. If your neighbor is cold, you are cold. If your neighbor weeps, you weep too. So feed them. Shelter them. Share your love, warmth, laughter. Share your joy, that we may be one Joyful Throng. I have been blessed with education, but I see my neighbors struggling in ignorance. I have been blessed with books and teachers, but I see my neighbors cheated because they can’t do sums. I have been blessed by the wisdom inherited from our ancestors, but my neighbor doesn’t even know how to read the Testimonies!

She looked around in a holy fury.

“I will tell you plainly that I see this as sin! I see this as a betrayal of our most cherished ideals! I will tell you plainly that I, Xia Gentian, will not sit, fat and happy, while my neighbor goes hungry. I will feed them. I will feed them! Because until they are full, I AM HUNGRY! And until they are learned, I AM IGNORANT! I am still that backwoods girl, warming her feet in the ashes of the fire and hoping Pa didn’t get cheated of his wages.”

“So I have spoken plainly to you. I have told you what I see. I think you see it all too. After all, not a body in here hasn’t had at least some education. We all are looking mighty comfortable. But how about your employees? How many of them can you trust to keep the books? How many can you trust to properly assay the grain? The grist? How many know the why behind the what in a watermill?”

Gentian jabbed her finger at the crowd.

“Well, maybe it isn’t your job to teach them. Maybe you don’t have the time, or the skill. Lucky for you, the Xia and the Throng are working together to build those schools and find those teachers. Best of all, it won’t cost you a cent. I am proud, very proud, my family is contributing this way. But now I am calling on you to contribute. Contribute the things you have the most of. Grain.”

She grinned at that.

“I don’t know if you heard, but the Grain Merchants Benevolent Society meets here.” That got some laughs. “Well they do. And the millers are here, and I do believe that some of our larger bakers are here. I call upon you to contribute. To help. Some of you may have known this and forgot, some of you are lucky enough to have never learned this. But if you are hungry, you can’t study. So I call upon you to contribute. Contribute bread. Contribute sandwiches, if you can. But at the very least, contribute bread. Fresh, warm, filled with the hearty grains that fuel mind and body alike. I love bread.” She added, seemingly irrelevantly, getting another little chuckle.

“I absolutely love it.” She smiled back at the audience, her eyes slowly going hard. “I ate some just before I came out today. I ate plenty. But somehow, I still feel hungry. I think somewhere in this city, one of my neighbors is going hungry. I think they are lost in the shadow of ignorance and fear. I think they deserve better from me. My fellow Grain Merchants, they deserve better from you. And I know you will give it to them. For such is our faith. Such is our creed. Such is our Joy.”

The crowd rose to its feet, cheering. Roaring. Gentian smiled out at them and tried not to cry. She meant every word.