Whereas Primitive Man Feared Sea Travel For Superstitious Reasons, The Modern Traveler's Aversion Is Based On Facts
A crossing of the Arch Sea, mild and pirate-free, gave its passengers time to come to hate one another, and how the poets mourned that swiftness in love is never believed, but no less urgent a hatred is easily accepted. There were other reasons fathers disliked poets, but that one sufficed. Still, whatever one thought of sudden romance, the six days to Drastlif could be spent enjoyably, given the proper roster of passengers.
In that case, the presence of non-Stadeskosken-employees aboard, not only the crew and Takki but other Grenlofers bound for Drastlif, permitted an escape from colleagues before the same points were repeated too often. Furthermore, the apparent difference in interest and temperament between Dirant and Onkallant left him without disappointment when they failed to become close friends. Instead, the Ritualist appreciated what merits in the man he did perceive, such as how helpful the translator tried to be in preparing his colleagues for the scene of their upcoming labors.
“I grew up there,” Onkallant told them. “Onerid did also, and yet though we are not so far apart in years, there is a lot in those few. Well, it does not matter so much. I remember more of our father's associates in the embassy, and what that's worth isn't a full ezola.”
Which embassy required no clarification, since Greater Enloffenkir as a whole maintained one and no other. Efforts to establish similar institutions in other countries always stumbled at the same obstacles, most importantly disagreements among member states as to what policies to pursue. With Drastlif, it was simple: agree to broadening of trade and agitate for lowered tariffs. Nothing more. Drastlif's naval interests pointed toward the distant Geft continent while its land interests consisted primarily of not wanting to be invaded by Noiswawau or Swadvanchdeu and thus were in perfect harmony with the inclinations of every GE state.
Accordingly, the mines, forges, farms, and orchards of the confederation sent their products across the Arch Sea in exchange for the famed workmanship of the Drastlifars, whose tireless attention to detail gave the world such tapestries as defied the attempts of other countries to replicate and whose dedication to increasing the scope of their skill led to innovations later copied by the rest of Egillen without exception. The cheap watch Dirant owned but intended to put away upon reaching the ship's destination before any Drastlifars saw it, for example.
The average GE citizen possessed sufficient awe of Drastlif's technical accomplishments not to bother looking past them, unless it was to put a big hunk of meat on a spit for an outdoor celebration. Most had but the vaguest idea about anything else Drastlifan. Oligarchs controlled the government, was that not correct? They built large temples, did they not? Families distinguished themselves by colored shields governed by elaborate rules transmitted in obscure terminology, if my friend recently returned from Dubwasef told me true?
“Ah, heraldry? Certainly so. Here.” In response to such inquiries from his fellow passengers, Onkallant removed from his belt a stout fan fashioned perhaps from metal. When opened, the fan offered the viewer a strange scene painted in vivid colors quite unlike the realistic tapestries for which foreigners paid so much. “Mr. Dirant, how would you describe that?”
Unsure whether he was consulted as a token of honor to the boss's son so trivially insulted earlier or as a challenge from a man who freely admitted himself to be of the Sportsman class, Dirant chose to participate in the exercise despite hearing a sound of disgruntlement from Onerid's direction. “The presented image is of two cattle, I believe, head-to-head. There is corn behind one and palm trees behind the other, perhaps to represent the GE and Drastlif respectively. They are standing on green and blue fields separated by an uneven boundary, though for a cow to stand on water is beyond the ability of most breeds. Perhaps the Drastlifars have developed a superior stock. There are gold circles around the edge. The message is one of appreciation for a diplomat's work I would say if pressed by a professor.”
Onkallant grinned and showed the fan to the others. “You have that last part quite right. This shield was granted to our father after he retired, for there are twelve of those circles, one for each of his years in the embassy. What a rare honor that was for an outsider to bear one. You must apply to the Permissive Council for the right to carry a shield, you know. The design, too, you comprehend fully, but isn't there something in your brain telling you to describe it as per pale engrailed vert and azure, an orle of twelve ipapobar, two kine respectant gules within six corn slipped or and as many palms argent?”
Stansolt whistled a tune like the country boy walking past the museum in the story, Takki reached for a notebook, and Banfol looked puzzled along with most of the other passengers about, all while Onerid rolled her eyes. Dirant only answered, “There is, though it never before revealed itself to me. Neither it is likely I will remember that, since my education prepared my memory for rituals and nothing else.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Onkallant's repeated nods as he folded his fan back up indicated his sympathies still lay with Adaban culture for all that his upbringing encouraged a distant allegiance. “I used to say I had no idea how you Ritualists do it. At last I realized that memorizing all this stuff left so little room for anything else that I am irretrievably simple-minded. I have my fun though, don't doubt it. Ah, my sister is again angered!”
In fact she did not care quite enough for anger, but mere irritation did well enough. The relationship between the siblings, their fellow voyagers learned, was of a more remote sort than circumstances conspired to imply at their first meeting. Onerid had been a Stadeskosken employee for some time while Onkallant sought a position only recently, and it was his hiring which brought them into contact after years of seeing little of each other. Still, the sister felt a familial connection powerful enough to justify a harrumph or two.
“Miss Onerid, do you get to use that shield?” Takki asked. “I heard there are restrictions.”
“The right is granted to the entire family, with one difference I will show you if you wish.” Onerid whipped from a sash a fan which Dirant had until then thought to be a buckle or some plain ornament. Hers showed a similar image, except confined to a perfect circle whereas Onkallant's imitated a shield wide at the top and narrow at the base. “All women use mine and all men his, except for the head of the family, though this shield is nowhere seen with the triple tressure because Da . . . because our father was unable to swear honestly that he is the head of the Paspaklests after election in keeping with right and custom.”
She replaced her fan and continued speaking. “Going along with the thin pretense that we're helping our colleagues instead of showing off, let me say this. If you remember only one aspect of Drastlif, let it be that a family there is more than a bundle of relations. Affection has nothing to do with it either, though it exists of course. Each family is a government in miniature. The selection of the head is a formal matter, fines are levied upon the whole body and the payment raised according to the head's policy, punishments are delegated to him for execution, not all of them but many, and when a customer tries to claim you made a mistake, your remonstrances must be aimed above.” Already the GE travelers had learned more of Drastlif than any but a few back home grasped, and they had not yet landed.
They had at least gained sight of the country to port, a view which spurred the current conversation. The Oskid passed the western protrusion which split the Arch Sea from the southern ocean and slid through the straits between the mainland and the nearest island of the chain which stretched far west and a tad south.
Drastlif as they saw it then appeared a country of cliffs with none of the sands and palms its artists liked to depict. “A heart of palms? Sure. That is nothing more than two palm trees placed together, their fronds touching and the bottom of their trunks close, but between they curve apart so that the space between them is heart-like.” The slight grimace on Onkallant's face as he endured the spray and the wind that carried it gave him a yet sportier aspect, as if he were judging the angle of his next throw or considering where to display his latest trophy. A good thing, because if he kept on with nothing but explanations of heraldry terms, passersby might suspect him to be an academic and avoid him for fear of being drawn into an abstruse argument. As it was, many found his company desirable.
“Is there a romantic component to that?” asked a non-Stadeskosken passenger enjoying the bearably wild weather. “For instance, is that symbol adopted to celebrate a wedding or such?”
Onkallant shook his head. “The only thing that changes then is the wife replaces her father's shield with her husband's. There's an obstacle to romance. Why, even Mr. Stansolt there will have difficulty convincing a woman away when she asks where are his arms and he can do nothing but hold out his limbs!” The joke harvested more laughs than it would have if delivered by a person with less presence or if heard on land rather than among people stuck on a ship for days.
Stansolt responded, “That must be a relief to my wife when she hears it.” The comeback received a similarly enhanced response.
Only the thorough observer, or one so far from that as to not be paying attention to Onkallant, noticed signs of displeasure from Onerid. “Tsk,” she said, and gnawed a bit on a gloved thumb.
“Don't you think Miss Onerid is a clear case of 'slow judgment, good judgment,' Ressi?” Takki was one such observer.
Dirant was another, though unfortunately of the second type. “Is that a saying, or? The significance escapes me.”
“Oh, is this the part where the detective instructs her assistant? I've been waiting for this. Come down here.” Takki squatted, her back perfectly straight, and waited for her underling to join her, though his posture was not so firm. “Don't you see she considered Mr. Stansolt an eligible bachelor before now? Miss Onerid was too late, and definitely not for the first time. It's hard on her.”
“Ah.” Dirant accepted the plausibility of the theory despite certain unflattering implications as far as his own person and said so.
“Oh, I don't know that you have to worry about that.” Takki straightened. “But right now, will you excuse me? I have to go on a mission of consolation.”
“How admirable of you. I must content myself then with solitude.” Rather than that however, Dirant joined the crowd listening to Onkallant and off-shift sailors clarify that the palms preferred the southern coast and would be visible soon enough.