4.6

As she walked with the relatively small caravan of her and Kroak’s households, Jewel mused on how similar and different this journey was to her first time leaving home.

They would be settling for a late supper in Rochford keep and from there she would be traveling with her family. Making it in only a quarter day’s time from Valasect was doable without flying or galloping, although it was a bit of a strain on the horses to go at this pace.

Still, except for the rush where they were trotting more often than walking, it all went much as when she had taken her first trip to Kaeketteh.

Instead of Bromthil, the captain was Murial, riding a proper Rochford charger as befitted her rank over Jewel’s (still meager) footmen.

Then there was Smithson, her squire, who still rode Oxhoof.

He looked just as much a proper armed and armored warrior as Muriel and Kraok.

Who had met up with Jewel last evening for a modest feast with his own only slightly larger entourage.

After that was Jewel’s cook and kitchen master Dariusz, who was also bringing his wife and children along so they could stay with his Mother during the festivities.

Jewel offered to invite them as well, but Eryka firmly refused to get any closer to the ‘shit stinking heap’ of Kaeketeh than necessary. And having smelled the city herself Jewel did not disagree with the sentiment.

Alas, the wyrm had no way to avoid the smell herself.

It had also been almost a year since last the family had seen Dariusz’ Mother Hożanka and all of them were eager to reunite. Jewel had scarcely gone four days in ten without seeing her parents, so she could not fault them for taking the opportunity.

Dariusz would have stayed as well, but this was Jewel’s wedding and she would not have her chosen cook not be on hand for the preparations, nevermind whatever insult or frustration that brought the Countess.

The man was a little apprehensive at the prospect, until Jewel swore he had her full protection as the Lady of Valasect, a Daughter of House Rochford and the Shining Wyrm and Heir of Viznove.

After those important members and Jewel herself, the rest of the party consisted of a dozen Footmen and their own horse for guard and some extra hackneys to carry supplies.

The majority of the guard traveling with them was from Kraok’s demesne, as Muriel only judged two of Jewel’s own guards trained enough to avoid embarrassing her in front of the Countess.

They would pick up more of them tomorrow when they departed Rochford as the entourage to the rest of Jewel’s family.

All told the party was sizable, but hardly a third of what it was going to become the next morning.

The initial planning of supply was light as they would restock at Rochford proper and Jewel had already made those arrangements in her last visit with her Family.

But still it had been an exercise for Jewel and her household.

Alexander was already home with Blizzard-wrath waiting for her. He had again taken an early departure from the Eyrie but at least this time he did so with guards.

He hadn't quite made it in time for his birthday, but it had apparently been a near thing. He had also actually sent word ahead to confirm his arrival well in time to travel with the family again.

His sister had longed to join her family for the Summer Harvest Festival in Rochford, but as Lady she held responsibilities to Valasect now.

Jewel found it interesting how her demesne did not quite celebrate the end of the hungry summer the same as the demesne around the Rochford Manor.

They did not gather at her Manor, for they had only just finished it and tradition deemed it occurred elsewhere.

There was still the dance, there was still the black-grain bread, but instead of gathering within the modest temple in the mornings, to be beseeched by the minders there on which gods were in need of thanks for the harvest that year? The people of Valasect gathered around a very mighty tree at the first light of the day.

They also did not fast through the day but instead ate all throughout with a warm mood.

Breads were in less abundance though; instead her people favored a fresh porridge of a cheese that was milked that very morning and then chilled in cellars before eating with fresh berries and honey.

The fires, instead of being the center of the dance, were lit much smaller and set all around the tree past the extent of its boughs, and around that were laid the tables for the customary feast.

Jewel’s own dancing had initially been taken with some suspicion, but by the time the night was well under way and the spirits of everyone else were risen on the sacred bread, everyone took well to her joining them in her own version of the carola.

It helped that Jewel could sing in every timbre of voice and at a volume that went well with the fiddles and sheep skin drums.

Jewel was careful to focus on the wind while dancing. As she had come to learn in the years since her first dance that had grown into an enchantment. The courtyard of Rochford yet pulled upon any water spilled in it. Wind was safer.

The gentle swirling breeze that it left around the tree gave a welcome freshness in the morning after.

She had also avoided dancing quite through the entirety of the night like her first time. As much for her own muscles as that of her subjects. Who had, as always happened, been drawn into the wyrm’s motion as assuredly as the air and they spun and whirled with her around the tree even after she had retired for the evening.

It had just been ten days ago the festival had finished, but still Jewel’s thoughts along the road were filled with it and other distinctions between her old community and new one.

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The difference between even villages as close as Valasect and Rochford weighed on Jewel’s mood.

For in the other festivals and celebrations did she also see differences.

Of particular concern for her right now was the weddings.

In her home the season just after the Hungry Summer was the traditional one for weddings. She had attended such ceremonies in Rochford manor as her father’s daughter.

But in the days after harvest celebrations it was Jewel as their lady who was called on to attend and wish well to them. It was her right to weigh in with her approval for unions between people that were yet strangers to her.

A voice of weight alongside the temple staff who sought out the gods and stars that might be expected to make a fuss over any given joining.

There were a surprising number of gods who took note of weddings apparently, and due to the attention, one needed to have the temple involved to make sure none of them felt slighted or took offense.

Jewel reflected with some annoyance that the way that Adorján seemed to act as her own intermediary in case she also felt somehow slighted or offended by the matches of peasants.

What business of hers was it that one family wed to another?

Nothing in Jewel’s Book or lessons on Stewardship said it should be her responsibility or right to try and work the matches of her subjects like they did their farm beasts.

“My Lady, what woolgathering thoughts trouble you so?”

Blessed stars above have thanks that Jewel’s Squire was so keen in knowing her moods!

‘Gem’ was already soothed into mostly dreamless sleep for the walk hours ago. Which had been its own kind of disorienting once, but like all of the absurdities in Jewel’s life, now hardly was it worthy of note.

“Oh, Smithson, I am just musing on what exactly my subjects expect of me? Like what possible reason is there for me to object to who they wed? Is that not at most a matter of common law?”

Her squire was careful as he shifted posture on his horse, even though it was not needed. Jewel’s smaller self tucked into a bundle at his back was in such a deep sleep she was rumbling like a restful hen.

“Is this truly about the people of Valasect or is it more your own marriage you worry over my lady?”

Jewel focused on the thick smothering of her smaller self’s sleeping mind.

By age ‘Gem’ might be a bit old to be so swaddled, but by size she was starting to lag behind Jewel’s younger sister.

Finally Jewel had waited too long and had to answer her friend and Squire.

“Perhaps in a small portion, Do you suppose Paul Nádasdy has any gods we will have to appease during the wedding? Like that shepherd girl did? Mother and Father have never mentioned that I or Alexander have the attention of one and I don’t remember seeing any god sign around me.”

Smithson shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling with a bit more motion then needed, he still was not entirely comfortable in armor.

“My ma and the temple in Rochford say some goddess is named the ‘Wet Lady’ and that she put her sign on me when I was born.”

Jewel blinked, that was certainly a name. Her Squire, not being in the habit of ever actually touching the reins of any horse he rode these days, waved off the look. His tone exasperated with the troublesome joke.

“Yeah, I know, but not much has come of it that I’ve seen and it’s hardly that much of a bother. She’s not supposed to be the jealous or demanding sort, you see.”

He paused to scratch at his still somewhat sparse beard.

“In fact it’s a bit strange, she normally starts to get cranky if her chosen don’t get married but the temple says she’s been very pleased with me for the last few years. They advised me to keep doing whatever I’ve been doing since it's working so well.”

Huh, well that was interesting, but also troublesome. If gods could be so fickle about things or change their minds like that Jewel could understand why the wizards she knew preferred to avoid them.

Then again the only thing of divinity that Jewel could say she ever spoke too was the Veles during his riding of the various elders in the longest night of winter.

And she was not entirely sure if they counted. Was it truly speaking to a god if the god was speaking through a man?

At the very least, the Veles never had anything different to offer her in advice besides “your destiny is your own, young wyrm” or variants thereof. But he was always polite with her and greeted her with friendship regardless of the man he wore.

Which was better than most.

She’d never spoken to the Silver Lady besides the goddess’ demesne being a common stopover on her family’s annual visits to Kaeketteh. Which was very rude, Jewel thought. Even when the equivalent of the goddess’ head man was right there in Abbot Herbort.

Jewel knew that particular goddess absolutely did speak to some of the monks directly without having to wear anyone, but she never even once so much as touched the wyrm with her faux light in the mornings, let alone speak.

It made the monks very nervous every time Jewel attended those awfully early breakfasts they held.

And that summed up the entirety of the gods Jewel knew much of. There were far too many of them to keep track of.

And without having a patron in the heavens it was mostly not her concern.

Half the time, they were tied to specific stars over which they held sole dominion, other times they seemed perfectly willing to share one across many.

Sometimes new stars would flare in the sky either to herald the coming of unknown divines or portents. Other times there were so called lonely stars vehemently unclaimed by any and all that the temple staff could ask.

Every village was said to have at least a dozen of them and they did not always share common ground with ones from just a two day walk distant.

Divinity had been a sparse topic in Jewel’s studies until recently.

The matters of the temple, stars and divinity were not the providence of lords and ladies. Like the working of the soil it was best to leave up to those suited to the task. But while walking towards her marriage and the ceremonies to come, it settled oddly new and fresh in her mind.

The temples and books said that it was from the stars that the gift of thought came to man and beast. Was some distant ancestor of Bethica blessed somehow to give so many of her family their acuity in speech and thought?

Would men like her brother, father and Smithson someday have that blessing run out and leave their children as mute and empty headed as any other beast?

Jewel did wonder why such a blessing would ever be given in the first place.

What even was a god?