Every Man Has His Sphere And Every Sphere Its Duties
“That was one of ours,” Takki concluded. “How do you handle debates in Redrin?”
“Drunkenly,” half the servants responded.
“Angrily,” said the other half.
“Oh? Don't you have trouble reaching sound conclusions that way?”
“Now that you mention it . . .” Hugal pretended to look thoughtful.
The man who managed to stay mounted against all odds gave the serious answer. “Our conclusions don't matter. The Dvanjchtlivs never ask us if they should defend us from other Dvanjchtlivs. They just do it.”
“You do have other subjects to debate though, right?” Takki's eloquence in Yumin was increasing rapidly, Dirant noticed.
“Right,” Eyanya affirmed. “For instance, your uncle once saw two Dvanjchtlivan children drowning in a lake. He dived in to save them but only one of them lived. Sad, but! It turned out they were the sons of a baron, and since the dead one was his heir he didn't like, he thought of it as a pheasant falling into a pot. Your uncle became rich because of that baron's favor and his own wits, but as lucky as he was in business, love has its own rules. At last he died without issue and is leaving everything to you, but with the condition that you have to leave Redrin and live somewhere else. On Egillen, by the way. Where you do put up your house?”
“That is important.” Hugal thought hard. “I'm rich enough to hire private tutors and interpreters, right?”
“Of course.”
The servants fell to discussing the matter. Noiswawau and Swadvanchdeu were right out, but perhaps the Dvanjchtlivs of Chtrebliseu were more bearable. There was some doubt whether one even could emigrate to Ililesh Ashurin or if the only method of entry was to be captured by smugglers and put to work for years before breaking free and winning one's fortune, like in the book.
Dirant had his own doubts. Not on that point though. “Immigration is possible, though you will find the residents clannish and untrusting of outsiders. Ah, and what I must ask is, am I also from Redrin in this hypothetical?”
Takki chided him. “Of course not, Ressi. Obviously your uncle went abroad and had this Redrin adventure, which is why he insists you go abroad. And don't try to get out of it by picking Wessolp.”
“I never contemplated that for a moment.” A more honest assurance he had never given.
“Or anywhere else in Greater Enloffenkir. Or Beriskirofen, Egilof, or Tabiligdum, either.”
“I did contemplate those options.” At Dirant's confession, all the Yumins praised Takki for adroitly closing the door on Adaban trickery. They moved on to eliminate Obeneut, Pavvu Istis, and Pavvu Omme Os as lands unfit for man, woman, or beast of the common type where only the strongest could live, let alone thrive.
“They are not,” protested the Battler. The Yumins eyed her halberd and ignored her claim.
Saueyi of course was a country defined by fighting coastal raiders and irksome neighbors nonstop and therefore not to be considered. Yean Defiafi would have been a popular choice but for the refusal of anyone to believe his uncle could be that rich. Drastlif was reputed to be similar in prosperity but less in extravagance, except when it came to cheeses, and for those reasons won the majority of the Yumin vote in the end, though some of the maids had heard Stegzi was a country of gentlemen and wanted to investigate that for themselves.
The Adaban vote probably would have gone to Chtrebliseu if not concentrated in the person of Dirant Rikelta. He reflected on his experiences in Yean Defiafi and Redrin, observed the excited Redrins around him, remembered none of them had so much as suggested Kitslof, and gave the inevitable answer. “Pavvu Omme Os for me, I think.”
“Young men always want to think they're tough,” Eyanya opined.
Hugal corrected her. “You're wrong there, Eyanya. I don't want to think at all.”
Takki congratulated him for his perspicacity. “You did the right thing, Ressi. I'll show you all the best places. Anyway, what do you think about Egilof? It sounds fun. Don't they host a lot of sporting events there with plenty of betting and mysteries?”
“It's true. For that very reason it has resisted signing the GE charter, as it wishes to retain its impartiality among the many states that compete there.”
“None of these sports are debates, are they?” asked a non-chief attendant. “If they aren't, I want to change my choice to Egilof.” As often, increased information decreased likemindedness.
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That and other topics such as the latest technological innovations and discussions of excerpts from Understanding Yumin Humor, a volume Audnauj had bought with a view toward continuing his studies during the long journey, occupied the group on the ride to and partway down the Bow River, as Dirant preferred to think of Yehg Sirrir. They followed it to the capital, Swachtipl. “That doesn't sound like a Yumin name,” Takki said as a consequence not of ignorance, for she knew the reason behind it as did everyone of any education, but because of the obvious desire on the part of the servants to be asked about it. Elated, they unfolded the history of the place. One of the few cities founded in Redrin by the Dvanjchtlivs, they employed it both as a staging point for campaigns against invaders from the south or west and as the nexus of upper-class society.
Long ago Swachtipl had been decided as the grounds where the nobles were required to present themselves for inspection in order that the king might judge the quality of their equipment and training. That measure which was calculated to enforce the superiority of the monarchy over the aristocracy reversed its significance over time. In the modern era, the role of inspector of men and materiel had become the undisputed but sole prerogative of the king. In all other respects the nobles treated him as one of their number, no greater or lesser than any other. The servants did not lower themselves to expound on the obvious conclusion that just as nobles in Redrin were the equals of the king, so too was the household of a Redrin noble the equals of a king's in any other monarchy. As for anyone not employed by a lord, well, they understood there were only so many positions available.
The tourist who missed out on spirited explanations about Swachtipl's past or even the name of the city, perhaps after washing ashore after a battle against pirates, nevertheless would have detected a difference from other Redrin settlements on his own. Dvanjchtliv architecture distinguished itself by the many galleries and the color coordination. Ground-floor windows doubled as doors to give a sensation of openness to the city far unlike the stifling effect of pile after pile embraced by Adabans as a reminder of the hill forts of the past according to architectural historians given to sweeping claims. Wood remained the primary building material, at least externally; many edifices and columns of stone covered themselves in wooden paneling chosen and polished with such care as to obviate the need for any paint. Statues of horses both with and without riders dotted squares and street corners, often rearing next to ivy-gripped arches that curved over boulevards. The nobles and subjects in those streets naturally dressed more like Audnauj than his servants, the Yumins among them not excepted. Everything about the place looked expensive.
Accommodations cost less than ever despite that, since the retinue stayed at the Olzenchipt Stavripdeu house, a domicile so expansive that Dirant would have required a map to navigate it had he wished to do so. The household staff did not encourage that sort of behavior, and perhaps would have actively discouraged it had he persisted, though the estate's servants refrained from saying anything pointed even when they knew for certain Lord Audnauj would not overhear it.
“I feel neither welcome nor unwelcome,” Dirant Rikelta commented to Takki in the morning after leaving his room that was nearly all bed. Not that it was a small room. The bed was twice the size of his back home.
“Oh? I didn't notice unfriendliness.”
“Perhaps it lost something in the translation. More likely they prefer your company to mine, and that sentiment is so common I have not yet found a mirror in this residence willing to endure my reflection.”
“That explains your collar, but do you think the jaunty angle of it will win them over to your side, Ressi?”
He straightened his disguise, which apparently did the trick. The house servants, those in the lower positions and in the Onzalkarnd tier alike, displayed more deference than they had the evening prior as they showed him to breakfast and served him a meal specially provided with pickled radish they had dug out of the cellar. He wondered if that meant they knew him to be a pickle-eating Adaban, but asking about it seemed unwise. Only when the entourage set out again and was riding through the capital's broad thoroughfares did the answer come.
“Of course they started treating you better. Word got out about everything you did for Lord Audnauj despite your lamentable Adabanness,” Hugal told him.
“And how did that happen?”
Eyanya explained. “We told them.”
“The cause and the effect do seem related.”
“The other effect was how hard they laughed about the whole thing. It wasn't as funny at the time, but I can't blame them for it now. Hey, what's the hubbub?”
Shouts and horns exploded to the rear of the retinue, and Audnauj paused in his progress. Cohorts of uniformed soldiers and panicked officials charged through the streets in every direction, shoving bystanders out of the way and blowing whistles. Pedestrians and riders moved to the side to let them pass.
“The plans! They've taken classified plans! Stop them!” One yelled that before the others told him to shut up about the secret warship plans already. Searchers raced past the cortege, back the other way, left across the junction ahead and right as well in turn, and then both ways simultaneously. The capital became a cauldron of chaos.
“I wonder if I should try to help,” Audnauj mused.
Dirant had no reason to say anything for or against the idea until he looked up and saw a lone figure strolling across the rooftops. At that distance, and with the figure's features obscured by a hat's shadow as they were, of course he could not identify the roof-walker with any sort of confidence, except it was definitely Stansolt Gaomat. He told himself how foolish his conviction was even as it became greater with every step the alleged spy took. Alleged by him, that is, though Dirant guessed Silfour would have agreed had he been available for consultation.
That created a problem. A Tit-for-Tat as moderate as his 42 nevertheless insisted that he owed something of some sort to both Audnauj and Stansolt because of services rendered even if they had already been compensated by, for instance, being rescued from a criminal mastermind. Moreover, he was supposed to be propping up Audnauj's status however possible. Based on those considerations, he ought to assist the former apprehend the latter and the latter evade the former, which created a conundrum easily resolved when one remembered Audnauj also had an obligation to Stansolt for helping rescue him from a criminal mastermind. As for what debts a noble owed his country, Dirant decided not to care. He averted his eyes from the escaping spy in case an alert person, Battler Millim Takki Atsa perhaps, followed the direction of his gaze, and advised, “It's unlikely you can do anything they cannot here.”
“Suppose not. Let's away to the Lesser then.” Audnauj's party left the capital and all its decoration and intrigue.