Gethin thinks for a moment, “It’s a military rank. Let me try to explain. Curas are individual soldiers who command no one. An Ugain will command twenty Curas. The Gedwar Ugain will command twenty Ugains, so four hundred Curas. The next rank up is Marchog, and a Marchog commands twenty Geward Ugains or eight thousand Curas. Then you have Geward Marchog, who commands eight Marchogs or sixty-four thousand Curas. Then you have…”
Ember breaks in, “That’s all well and good, but what is an Awst?”
I’m getting there,” Gethin says wryly, “Because above the Geward Marchog, the rank is Awst and an Awst commands at least two Geward Marchogs, but it can be as many as four or five. The next highest rank is Geward Awst, and he’s the king’s commander general. All of the Awsts will answer to him, and they’re ranked numerically within the rank Awst based on how well their battles go. Second Awst means she was the third-highest-ranking general in Cymry. While girls here are still playing with dolls and teacups, she’s risen through the ranks and the annual trials to become a general. It’s no wonder she was permitted to expand her tattoo. The wonder is that the king didn’t force the queen to allow him to marry her himself or try to pull some shenanigans to make her a sort of concubine or something. Had he or his advisors been a tad bit smarter, the king would have adopted her into the royal house, added to her tattoo, and then married her off outside Cymry as part of some trade deal.”
“Why do you say that? She’s already told you that she didn’t want to be some pampered broodmare,” Ember chuckles, “Surely married off as part of a trade deal…”
“Not this girl,” Gethin grins, “Her mother would have taught her how to kill with any number of ordinary household objects if an attempt to kidnap her and force a marriage was successful. She might be forced to marry against her will, but forcing her to remain married… Let’s say that she wouldn’t be the first girl to return to her father’s house as a widow after a forced marriage. If her husband disrespected her, tried to abuse her, or even snored too much, he’d become easily disposable. Any kingdom foolish enough to wed its prince to her would quickly find itself taken over from within and its prince handled neatly, one way or another. I would imagine that she’d end up as Queen Regent and her kingdom would be closely allied with the Cymry if it didn’t become part of Cymry outright.”
“So not just military,” Ember says, and Gethin nods, “Yes, she’d be skilled politically as well.”
“Was this common among you, among the Cymry?” Ember asks. Gethin shrugs eloquently, “Common enough that one of the houses had 'What we cannot conquer we will marry' as their motto.”
“By the Goddess,” Ember says, scrubbing at his face, “Benger says she’s barely out of pig tails.”
“That’s not exactly right,” Gethin says, “but not too far off the mark. Our marriageable age was twenty, and she still has a hand or so of years to go. The funny thing is that she’d already started training her younger siblings to follow in her footsteps. She was hells-bent on raising the status of her House in a single generation.”
“What do you mean?” Ember asks.
“She was ranking quite well in the annual combat trials. Typically, in the top five of her age group each year. She’d already figured out how to defeat the children of the other Houses that were in her age group, so she started teaching her younger siblings how to defeat the children from those same Houses that they’d be facing in their age groups.”
“So, then they’d outrank those children from the other Houses too…” Ember trails off, thoughtful, “So she and all the siblings that followed her would have a huge advantage in…”
“In almost everything,” Gethin finishes for him, “Clothing, food, choice of spouses, education, opportunities outside their own House. She’d have made her house second only to the Royal House, and the other Houses would have been beating a path to her father’s door with marriage proposals. She wanted to crack the world open, not just for herself, but all her younger siblings. She was determined that none of them would end up parlor decorations or broodmares unless they wanted to be. Status among the Cymry determines everything, and the single largest contributing factor to increasing your birth status was the annual trials. Produce several children who all exceed their parents’ status, and the status of the entire House increases.”
Eyes glinting merrily, Gethin chuckles, “Now you see why the King handled her so carefully. Had he not, she might have decided to take his throne from him. Melfyn told me that three of the crown princes were interested in her. Any one of them or maybe even all of them could have made her co-ruler.”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“What kind of shenanigans could the king have pulled if he were already married?” Ember asks.
“Ah,” Gethin waggles a finger at him, “That’s where it gets complicated. The Cymry recognize several kinds of marriage. If the King and Queen had been Ban Tighe, they could have married Emlyn as another wife.”
“Wait,” Ember says, frowning, “They–you mean both of them. Not just the King.”
“Yes,” Gethin nods, “The Queen would have had to agree to it and be part of the ceremony to add another wife to the household. I’m pretty sure that the King wouldn’t have permitted Ban Gwyr since he’d have to be certain of the lineage to ensure succession.”
“Why wouldn’t he be sure of the children's parentage?” Ember asks.
“Because,” Gethin explains, “when the bride price is more than the boy’s family can afford alone, families who are interested in the same girl will come together to raise the funds—the group of boys who provide funding sharing the girl. If the Queen were smart, they would have been Ban Raieth, and it would have been more of a partnership. If her parents sold her out, she was the property of the King, or Ban Chiele. In which case, a simple charge of infidelity would likely have been sufficient for the king to be able to set her aside. Since he was king, though, their bond was probably Ban Tighe just on the off chance that the Queen was barren. That way, the King could add Ban Tighe wives, the children would still be legitimate, and the succession would be assured without having to divorce the Queen and anger her family.”
“That seems complicated,” Ember says.
“I suppose it seems so to outsiders,” Gethin agrees, “But in practice it was not. It is quite simple and provides different relationships for different situations. Ban Tighe was useful when a House had been depleted by warfare. Several wives could produce more children, allowing the House to continue. It also allowed males who ranked well to have more than one highly ranked partner, thereby producing more highly ranked children. Ban Raieth was useful when a pair wanted to try to found a new House and offered the woman more rights commensurate with the additional responsibilities. Ban Gwyr was useful when really high-status girls wanted to marry, and no single House could afford the bride price without impoverishing itself and leaving its own daughters without a dowry. This meant that girls of extremely high social status could have a family of their own, even if it were a bit unconventional. In cases where preserving the bloodline of both parents was crucial, particularly if there were high hopes for the children, Ban Chiele was the option of choice, but it was not very palatable to the girls in question, as they were essentially considered the property of their husbands. Each had its purpose, and each was wrapped in its own set of customs and traditions. Most were designed to provide the girls with some protection, but customs and traditions are often easier to flout than actual laws. Most marriages were either Ban Tighe or Ban Chiele. Very few girls, maybe one in a generation, would ever rank high enough to merit a bride price, much less get a Ban Gwyr offer, and fewer still would be from a House that would force them to accept it. Ban Raieth was rare, too, because most didn’t want the all-consuming effort of founding a new House and starting with nothing more than their personal status. It meant giving up the status of the Houses they’d come from, and if they didn’t regain their former status quickly enough, their tattoos would be covered with black ink, nullifying them. Not many were willing to take that risk, and even fewer of them succeeded.”
“So, they got to walk around with a tattoo that marked them as a failure for the rest of their days,” Ember says.
“Oh yes,” Gethin agrees, “And as a cautionary tale to others who might be thinking along the same lines.”
“I can see where that wouldn’t be a popular option.” Ember agrees, “But how did Ban Tighe work?”
“All the other wives were subservient to the first wife and any other wife who outranked them. It was a way for lower-status girls to have a family, as they’d likely remain unwed otherwise. Most families were quite particular about the first and possibly even the second and third wives, but beyond that, they were more lenient. We had an old saying about “First for the heir, second for the spare, third for a care, fourth is a horse, and fifth is a mule. Most girls could make at least a second or third wife. Fourth and fifth wives were often quite pretty girls from lower-status Houses that were little more than unpaid help.” At Ember’s look, Gethin shrugs, “They were usually lower in status than the previous wives, and if they had any children, those children would gain status from their father’s House. The alternatives for them were either the temples, taking up a profession, or the brothels. There weren’t many Houses that could support a spinster daughter who didn’t contribute, and those that could would often refuse to do so. Either they supported themselves or they married.”
“I suppose that works out,” Ember says, “but it seems unpleasant.”
“It’s not like it is here. There was respectable work in many fields available for women who didn’t marry,” Gethin shrugs, “even if they lacked status. The Cymry valued craftsmanship in all things, not just weapons. Good coin could be had for almost any well-made object, from wooden bowls to floor tiles. What no one wanted were layabouts too simple-minded or too lazy to work at something.”
“Do you think she was ranked as highly as she claims?” Ember asks.
“I can’t see a reason for her to lie about it,” Gethin shrugs, “and she said that if we doubted her, to ask the Goddess, that she’d know the truth of it. I rather suspect that the Goddess will confirm it. I need to speak to the Goddess anyway. She said that three of her companions died godless, and she wanted me to ask our Goddess to take them. She told me that we must be sure to tell them that she succeeded.”
- Emlyn pushes herself toward the altar—almost there, but not quite yet.
- Benger turns into a personal mule/piggyback taxi system (Boltir salutes the lad).
- The fish hatchery becomes a training pool for rebuilding her strength.
- Milvara the designer arrives—talented, sharp?eyed, and immediately intrigued.
- Emlyn charms her, surprises her, and wins her respect with confidence and vision.
- Emlyn proposes a dress theme:
deep green, snow?sparkle crystals, fir?bough elegance. - Milvara decides: yes, this girl can be turned into a showstopper.
- Emlyn reveals her battle plan for the ball:
dance with every prince and duke’s son to spite the mean girls and help the harassed boys escape. - Milvara gleefully agrees to help her become the “exotic foreign orphan princess” everyone will talk about.
- Daily routine forms: chapel walking, hatchery swimming, repeated fittings, and constant forward momentum.
Boltir’s Tip Jar
Coins:
Current total: 350 coppers
Add +7 coppers for dress scheming, hatchery training, and Emlyn’s brilliance.
New Total: 357 coppers
Random Object:
A single glass bead like the fake “snow crystals” Milvara plans to use—Snips keeps trying to eat it.
Snips the Crab:
Snips returns wearing:
- A tiny scrap of green fabric as a cape,
- A pearl bead on a thread around his shell,
- A thimble helmet for “fashion combat.”
He clicks approvingly at Milvara’s sketchbook
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