Herbs, strong drinks, violence, or financial gain seem to be the most common methods for a human male to attempt to bed a human female. Women are treated like commodities and may even be auctioned off if they are especially desirable. It’s no wonder males here treat females like objects. Everything here reduces females to the status of possessions. Seduction seems to be largely unknown here. And among the men, so is any form of self-improvement.
Courting is almost nonexistent. Only the very lowest classes engage in it. Everything is handled through contracts. I was surprised to discover that there is, in fact, a human studbook. Of course, these humans don’t call it that, but that’s clearly what it is. It’s called "A Listing of the Kingdom of Centis’s Nobles," and it lists the current nobility, their lineage, and similar details. The scribes produce this, as Duke Jellema mentioned. They publish it for the king’s use. These scribes record who holds what ranks, what their land holdings are, and what levies and taxes are due, so the king can properly collect taxes, levies of men, and other dues from the various holdings in his kingdom.
Families use this book for a different purpose: to find spouses for their children. Wealthy merchants often marry into impoverished noble families, offering hefty dowries to attract a noble spouse. Lower-ranked nobles try to do the same with those of higher rank. People of the same rank look for more financially successful peers to marry. There is no concept of caring for your spouse among these humans. A spouse is simply a resource to be used. I am told that many of these arrangements start on a rocky note but eventually become pretty successful.
I look around at the women gathered in Ina’s parlor, and I am not so sure that their statements are accurate. I see unhappy wives and unhappy husbands who seem ill-suited to each other, trying to make a marriage work since dissolving such unions is unknown here. Men seeking other partners is almost an epidemic. Widows, however, are equally prevalent, which makes me wonder what some women have done to get rid of abusive or badly behaved husbands. I have learned a few other things from this book. Oddly, larger holdings are not always more profitable, showing me that shrewd management counts for more than just owning vast tracts of land. This is an area where I think I can be pretty helpful to Lord Kenric.
Composting and fertilizing fields are relatively unknown here. Animal husbandry and breeding for desirable traits are also quite unfamiliar here. Even my basic knowledge of these things surpasses what exists in this era, and I am confident I can help make Lord Kenric’s holdings more profitable. Since I know war will come eventually, we’ll start with a large garden and some hogs. Properly butchered and cured, pork can be stored for a long time.
Many fruits and vegetables can be dried, salted, pickled, or otherwise preserved. I’ve heard that the dungeons of the keep are extensive but rarely used for holding prisoners, so we’ll treat them as our larder and stock them high. Things like arrows and other weapons are pretty straightforward. I can use magic to duplicate them when no one’s looking, so I can stock Lord Kenric’s armory. Now I must stock our closets. I have instructed Melina to find a dressmaker who is confident she can dress me appropriately while making me look as plain and undesirable as possible.
It seems that this will be my armor on this new battlefield where I find myself, facing a lecherous king. We will pack ourselves into carriages tomorrow and head for the capital so I can confront the beast in its own den. Lord Kenric’s men have arrived. I had been hoping they might be delayed. They came here, led by a grim old Sergeant at Arms. Old warriors are either fearsome or cowards. Judging by his scars, this one is not a coward. Kenric swears that he trusts this man with his life. We briefly discussed recruiting additional men to escort us and the caravan of trade goods to the capital.
It seems to me to be a tempting target for bandits, and I have suggested to Kenric that we either hire or beg some mounted men from Duke Jellema to escort all of us to the capital. The Sergeant is surprised by this but also agrees with me. They spotted some bandits lurking along the way here, but were not attacked. Bandits are generally smart enough to pick targets based on how likely they are to be carrying something valuable and whether they can survive the attack.
A lord’s guard riding to the port and traveling light isn’t expected to carry much value and is likely to win any fight thanks to better armor and training. Meanwhile, a caravan heading from the port to the capital is expected to carry valuable cargo, but it won’t be as well-equipped or and the wagon-drivers won’t be as skilled in defense. The Sergeant is a bit surprised that I know these things.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
I smile at him. “My Lord Kenric says that he trusts you with his life. I will trust you a bit. I am far better with a sword in my hands than all these fancy dresses. I fought in my people’s border wars, and I am well known for dueling.”
The Sergeant gives me a stern smile. “My lord already informed me of this. I am hesitant to hire men, as they might easily turn against us and side with the bandits. If Duke Jellema will lend us an escort, though, I’d be grateful.”
I smile back at him. “Let me see if I can help arrange that.”
As I have more tea with Ina, I mention that Lord Kenric’s men saw bandits on their way here. I ask if she thinks Duke Jellema might lend us some men to go with us to the capital.
I pretend to be terrified of being attacked by bandits seeking to rob the massive caravan that's traveling with us. “I am horrified at the thought that those ruffians might get their hands on me. I’ve heard terrible things about what happens to high-born women here. Between the caravan and me, I worry we might be easy targets.”
I act distressed and fretful, while Ina embroiders. Later that evening, Duke Jellema pats my hand and tells me not to worry because he’s sending an escort with us. The next morning, both the Sergeant and I are sorely disappointed. It’s a handful of pikemen and half a dozen mounted men.
If it were only our carriage, it would likely be enough, but the caravan won’t be moving quickly, so Kenric’s men will have to ride up and down the line. This will result in even slower travel and make us a much more likely target.
The Sergeant nudges me and mutters, “You got more out of him than Kenric or I. I’ll see you’re safe enough.”
I snort. “I’ll manage my own safety and Lord Kenric’s. See to that damn caravan. That will be where they hit us.”
He nods and steps forward, issuing orders, lining up wagons, and finally, it’s time for us to leave.
The entire town seems to be celebrating to see us off. Once we’re outside the city walls, I settle next to Kenric and rest a little. It’s going to be a long day, but at least we’re at the front, where it’s less dusty. We finally get to whisper. Duke Jellema already wants to send another delegation to negotiate for some of the items Kenric brought back that aren’t part of their current trade agreement. These are things I suggested, like candy, ink, jewelry, alchemical ingredients, wine, whiskey, and special foods.
I’m half asleep when suddenly the carriage stops abruptly, jolting me fully awake. I sit up, stick my head outside, and immediately smell fear and blood. I hear the clanging of steel. The need to protect Kenric rushes through me. Without hesitation, I call my armor to me and shift. I sprint at top speed into the fight. Some of Lord Kenric’s men and Duke Jellema’s men are there, but the rest are on the other side of the long caravan. I hear their shouts and the pounding of horses as they hurry to reach the end of the line of wagons and ride up this side. I have beaten them to the fight, even though some of them are mounted.
I growl, low and menacing, as I plow into these bandits. To my senses, they seem to be moving slowly. I don’t even need a sword for this since they’re not appropriately armored. One swipe with my claws and the first one goes down, clutching his guts and screaming. The hot copper-y metallic tang of blood assaults my nose, along with the smell of fear. I am back among nightmares, and I must protect my own. I am swift and merciless. Another swipe of my claws and a throat is ripped out. Blood sprays, and I hear the gurgling, choking noises. I float through these bandits.
The next one is a quick push on his shoulder while I crank on his jaw. This one smells of fear and his loosening bowels. I am still floating through this conflict, listening to the shouts of Jellema’s men and Kenric’s men as they hurry down the line to reach us. One of these would-be bandits swipes at me with a sword. I dodge it easily, and reach between his legs, taking something he might rather have kept. I shove that into his mouth. Eyes wide and hands grasping at his non-existent crotch, he drops to his knees, blood gushing.
The smell of blood and fear intensifies. I scan for the next target and keep moving. One of them starts rushing toward me, and my grin widens. I pick this one up and throw him. His own comrade impales him on a sword. His body weight pulls the weapon out of his ally’s hand. The next one, smarter than his brothers, turns and runs, fleeing the fight. Another tries to lunge at me, but I grab his arm, swinging him over my head, and then slam him down, hard. He hits the ground on the top of his head, bones crunching. He begins to twitch and drops his sword.
I’m lost in the chaos of the battle and my need to protect Kenric, still fighting, leaving a trail of death and gore behind me. It’s almost like one of our dances, except we don’t switch partners, there’s not much spinning, and no music. I reach between the dance partners and disembowel or rip out throats, depending on what’s easiest to reach and how they’re dressed. Those in livery are ours, so I protect them while the rest are fair game. I’m nearly through the crowd when I hear an arrow coming. I spin the person I’m grappling with into its path as I sidestep. The arrow hits him in the throat.
His hands scramble at the arrow as he drops to his knees. I follow the arrow back to its source and grin wider, growling. I see the archer, and our eyes lock for an instant before his go wide, and he turns to run. I growl again. The hunt is on. He isn’t afraid. This one is terrified. The hunter is now the prey. It’s darker here, in all this underbrush, but unless you hide in water or roll in mud, you won’t hide from me. Even then, you might not be able to hide from me. Most prey is warmer than everything else, and when I am shifted like this, I can see that. The smell of his terror rolls out of the bramble.
- What’s your wildest theory for the queen’s next move?