Emlyn thinks for a moment and shrugs with a nod, so Ember continues, “Next time they’re in the dining hall, look at their plates. They’re always heaping with food because working magic requires a lot of energy. For paladins, the Goddess provides that energy, but for mages, the mage has to provide it, so they have to eat. For paladins and clerics, you train daily for various styles and types of combat. There’s also physical conditioning and other aspects of your training to consider. I know that I’ve gotten a bit thicker since I don’t train as much as I used to, now that I sit at a desk handling paperwork.”
“Hrmph,” Amalie elbows him with a big grin, “You should join in these training sessions that Nia’s going to conduct. I think her ideas about adjuncts taking over various tasks are a fabulous idea. With all that extra time, you can attend the training sessions because, dear man, you are sworn to avoid an expedient lie. I think that should be ample atonement.”
Ember laughs and Amalie grins at him, “Besides, I’d love to see you back in fighting trim again, even if you’re not fighting anymore. I quite liked that.”
Emlyn looks slightly puzzled, but everyone else laughs. “We’ll still be quite busy, even aside from the training,” Emlyn nods, “I’d like to see quite a lot of what he does now being handled by adjuncts. If I can offer you some advice, consider pulling some members from the cohorts that may not be the best fighters and see if they have some talent for administration. If they’re a paladin or a cleric, they’ll at least have a basic understanding of the challenges and the needs. We can also start mixing up some of the cohorts. We should have ten to a cohort for a time, while we observe how some of these people interact with each other. I’d also like to mix the clerics with the paladins. Clerics can keep you in the fight, even if they’re not strong fighters themselves. I was hoping you could put the female paladins in our cohort, at least for a time. I want to try to keep them from renouncing their vocation, if I can.”
“I didn’t realize that things were so bad for them,” Ember frowns, “Have they said something to you?”
“You’re male,” Emlyn shrugs, “so they’re not going to come to you. I’m one of the only other female paladins, so they have spoken to me about… things. It’s mostly not the Temple staff that’s a problem. It’s everyone else. It’s also not just a problem for us; even the jeweler’s daughter has had problems with men groping, pinching, and even slapping her. With higher-ranking men, they seem to think that they deserve to do it, almost as if we’re an extra helping of dessert and they’re treating themselves to it. Having Atres or my cohort around puts a stop to a lot of it for me, but neither of them has had that kind of protection from the more predatory types.”
“Now we get back to this thing with the King’s Guard uniforms,” Loket grumbles, “I don’t want any daughter of mine wearing that while there’s still a single hair left in my beard.”
“The rest of us haven’t seen the uniform in question,” Otrin explains, “Argonath assures us that she’s covered from her neck to her toes, but Loket insists that it’s too… suggestive for public wear.”
“It’s a slightly feminized version of my leathers.” Atres shrugs, waving a hand at his own outfit, “I’m not sure why you take such offense to it. It’s not that much different than her hunting leathers.”
“If that leather clings to her like it does to you, I think I understand why this is upsetting. We might be able to solve that as part of the contract,” Ember nods, “A tabard over her kit should be sufficient without making her wear something objectionable.”
Turning to Atres, Ember eyes him, “I’m surprised that you’re not the one protesting. You seem… protective.”
“Oh, aye! I am at that, more than I’d have thought possible in such a short time,” Atres grins, before becoming more serious, “She’s fetching in the uniform, I’ll grant you that, but not so much so that I can’t keep my hands to myself.”
“For all that’s been said about your former ways, you’ve been quite the gentleman,” Emlyn shrugs, “I don’t think it would occur to you to try to put your hands on someone in that way, uninvited.”
“Hells,” Henga snorts, “I don’t see many of either gender turning him down if he offered. I doubt he’s ever had to deal with an outright refusal.”
Frowning, Emlyn nods, “You may be on to something with that, Henga… Astridir said much the same thing. This is why I think that you and Argonath don’t understand the problem. Neither of you would ever do such a thing, and if you were, few would take umbrage at it. Unfortunately, you’re in the minority. Especially here in Tassatung, many men feel entitled to put their hands where they please, as there are no consequences for it. The higher they rank, the worse so many of them are about it, almost as if it’s a privilege that comes with the title. I’ve asked Milvara to make two coats so I can have the mages spell one of them to change color where it gets touched by anyone other than myself. I’ll be lucky if I can get through a day without the whole thing being a different color. Maybe then the two of you will begin to understand.”
“What do you mean by no consequences?” Ember asks.
“Here, men do as they please without any fear of reprisal or retribution,” Emlyn explains, “That’s especially true if they have some rank or power. This is purely hypothetical, as I couldn’t imagine Armeniel doing this, but I’ll use him to illustrate my point. If the prince were to rape me, what would my recourse be? Complaints to the King? Crying and wringing my hands? Stomping my feet and cursing at him? What would the Temple’s recourse be?” Emlyn snorts derisively, “The King would never allow me to challenge him. No matter how badly he behaved, the King wouldn’t allow him to be arrested, and he’d be even less likely to be punished. I’m told that women here don’t know how to fight. Since no one expects women to be able to defend themselves, there don’t seem to be any rules about that, at least. Amalie, were you ever taught to defend yourself?”
“I know a few places to punch or kick, but no, I don’t think I could defend myself for long or deliver a sound thrashing to someone who was being a lout. You’re right, that’s not something that women are taught here,” Amalie shrugs, “At least for Tassatung, you’re not typical.”
“Argonath was right,” Emlyn nods, “Women here do not take up the art of war or even self-defense. It goes against your ideas about proper behavior for women. That’s not the case among my people. Among the Cymry, we all fight from the time we’re children. First in the annual trials and later in battle, when we must defend our homes. Any Cymry woman who had any status at all would beat him to a bloody pulp on the spot, if not kill him outright. A Cymry woman would kill you with nothing more than a hair comb, if necessary, for that kind of behavior. That sort of thing enforces a great deal of civility when dealing with others that I find sadly lacking in Tassatung.”
“What’s this about civility?” Amalie asks.
“When giving offense to someone might result in getting your head handed to you, literally, people start to pay attention to social rules. They pay attention to how they behave so that they don’t give offense unintentionally,” Emlyn looks around at them, “If some lout tried to grab Henga’s boobs, would you be surprised if she pounded the stuffing out of him? Or took her axe to him?”
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“No one who knows me would be surprised when I knocked him into next month,” Henga grins, “Da taught me how to handle that sort of thing right off. Now that I think of it, I mostly don’t have problems even when I go to other Taigs, but in the human cities…”
“People in Tassatung are often coarse simply because they know they can get away with it. The worst thing that is going to happen to them is some cross words. Among the Cymry, that would have been crossed swords, and among the dwarves, crossed axes. Things in the King’s Guard aren’t going to be any better,” Emlyn grimaces, “If anything, it might even be worse. There’s going to be plenty of Rirdecs for me to contend with. There will be plenty who will do all kinds of things to maintain their boys’ club. Some of them will refuse to follow me. Some of them will just try to undermine me. Others will take a more active role and either try something in combat or maybe even attack me directly. I’ll have to be very careful about who I trust to be in a room with me. Korek, Argonath, and Veni will have to take turns being my shadow, much like my cousin was when I was Second Awst. Atres is too close and they might not be inclined to believe him, if he should have to give evidence or a statement.”
“This is why you want the other female paladins to be assigned to your cohort,” Ember nods, finally understanding, “You want to have someone who can go places with you that only another woman could go, like the privy.” Emlyn nods grimly, “Exactly right. I learned my lesson about that when my former commander sent men to attack me in the baths.”
“I told you that Argonath was asking more of her than he realized,” Kethas nods, “Since he’s the group leader, it’s up to him to provide her some protection.”
“Going into a fight is bad enough,” Emlyn shrugs, “without wondering if you can trust the ones who are supposed to be watching your back. That also means that I’ll have to see if those two want to join us in the King’s Guard contract. If not, perhaps we can see if there are a couple of female clerics who can do more than heal and who might be interested in joining us. The pay isn’t fabulous, but when it’s taken on top of our Temple pay, it’s not so bad.”
“Most of our female clerics fall into the ‘just healers’ category,” Ember says, “I don’t know that any of them spend time in the training yard.”
“That’s not good,” Emlyn shakes her head, “Even if they’re going into combat as support, they should still know how to fight, in case it should come to that. I hate to think what would happen to them if the paladins were overrun.”
“We might be able to pull some in from other Temples. Somewhere like Sibicandi or Cyuna, where women who fight are more common,” Ember muses, “I could put out a call to the other Temples to see if anyone’s interested in transferring here.”
“Perhaps you can rotate some of the staff here in exchange,” Emlyn nods, “That way no one’s short-staffed. I doubt a lot of our current staff have ever been outside Tassatung. I’d like to see them develop a more… cosmopolitan attitude. Even if it’s just a year at a time, I think that will give them some exposure to other ways of doing things and different instructors. Staff rotations are something that an adjunct can handle.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Ember replies, “Not all postings will be desirable, but if everyone knows that it’s only a year, it won’t be seen as too onerous. Enkassar, for example, would be seen as a prime posting since the city there is large. At the same time, Golpin probably won’t be very desirable, given its proximity to the Great Shamo Desert. I haven’t been myself, but I’m told it’s a veritable ocean of dunes, and the sandstorms are terrible. Those who are already serving near home won’t want to go somewhere far away. It’s something that can be worked out, especially if they know that they can return here to Harito quickly in the event of some family emergency.”
“All that seems to be incredibly reasonable,” Loket shrugs, “One of us is going to have to go back to the Taig and make sure that accommodations are ready for this invasion of humans. We’ll need space for fifteen to twenty of them. I won’t know exactly until Atres’s and Kethas’s kin arrive.”
While the group is talking, Veni pokes his head into the tap room and yells back over his shoulder, “I told you Atres and Nia would be here.”
“Emlyn will stay with us,” Gendini says firmly, “Atres can stay with Vorlig.”
“Don’t forget food,” Henga adds, “They’ll not be overly fond of most of our standard fare.”
“Good point about the food. Fair enough,” Loket grins, “You sure you want to put Atres up with Vorlig?”
“If there’s anything off about Atres,” Gendini murmurs to Loket, “Vorlig will spot it. Narieni’s not a slouch, either. I want to be sure that Madam Bevis’s concerns are… unfounded.”
“Fair enough,” Loket murmurs back, “A bit tough on Atres, but reasonable.”
“I think you’re being too hard on him,” Henga adds quietly, “He all but declared for her when all she had were her blades and a couple of silver ducats. It’s clear it’s her that he wants, and not just for a night or two. No man promises to wait for three years for a night or two.”
Emlyn looks up as several handsome blond men, led by Veni, step into the tap room.
Grinning, Veni looks at Atres, “Atres, I don’t think you’ve ever met either of my brothers or any of my cousins. This is my younger brother, Conway, and my older brother, Kallan. These are my cousins, Zael, Sagara, Ran, and Mari.”
As the men cluster around Atres, chatting, Veni mumbles something to Kethas, who nods and goes to pull pints. Veni spots Emlyn in the cluster of dwarves and gives her a curious look. With a smile, Emlyn gestures to the dwarves, “Veni, come and meet my family.”
Henga whispers in her ear, “I definitely want to meet him.”
Henga giggles when Emlyn elbows her. Emlyn introduces her dwarven family. When Emlyn introduces Henga as her sister, Henga winks at Veni, who chuckles.
“I suppose that would make you Atres’s future sister,” Veni smirks and shakes his head, “I’ll have to speak to Atres to see what his thoughts are.”
“Damn it,” Henga mutters to Emlyn, “They’re damned gorgeous and apparently off limits.”
“Atres might be more open-minded than you give him credit for,” Emlyn shrugs, “Although a couple of his ‘freely offered’ wenches have been none too happy to meet me.”
“Because of the bonding thing?” Henga whispers back, and Emlyn nods, “I’ll tell you more later.”
“Been practicing in a blind helm?” Emlyn asks Veni.
“Since you bested me so handily,” Veni grins, “Of course I have. I’m still not as proficient as you are, though.”
“My grandfather started with me when I was three, maybe a bit younger,” Emlyn shrugs, “Despite my age, I’ve got years of practice with one.”
“That’s a bit of good news,” Veni grins, “I’ve taken quite a bit of ribbing from my brothers over losing to a girl who looks barely old enough to let her hems and her pig tails down.”
“Hrmph,” Loket snorts, “When she’s in better shape, let her get them in a ring. Once she’s pounded the stuffing out of them, they’ll stop giving you a hard time. No shame in losing to our Girlie. They mistake her for one of your local girls, who’s been busy with her hair ribbons and tea parties. When those girls were having pretend tea parties, this one was out in the orchard getting dragons to tell her stories. She even fell asleep on one of them.”
“Did I really?” Emlyn asks.
“Oh yes,” Gramin chimes in, “We were there for that. You’d gotten bored with all the grown-up talk going on and wandered off. It was nearly suppertime, and we were scouring the place, trying to figure out where you’d gone, when someone spotted a bit of dragon flame out in the orchard. We all went running, and there you were, curled up, napping on his foreleg.”
“That was the most aggrieved dragon I’ve ever seen,” Otrin adds grinning widely, “We got there and he announced, ‘Your hatchling has fallen asleep and I’ve been unable to wake her.’ Turns out he’d been explaining to you how clouds work, and you dozed off. I had the impression that his feelings were injured because you dozed off during his explanation. Your grandfather shook his head, made apologies, and scooped you up, still asleep. We had to explain that by our standards, you were barely out of your shell. When we asked him why he didn’t just slide you off his leg, he was offended and said that no dragon would do such a thing to a hatchling, even if it weren’t his own. He was worried it might not wake you up, and he didn’t want to leave you there asleep and alone.”
Kethas laughs, “You really have been a lodestone for trouble your entire life.”
“I know what you’re going to say next. I’ve been a paladin for four years,” Emlyn shrugs, “Most of the time, my oaths won’t allow me just to walk away from things. I will grant, fy ewythr, that I could be a bit more cautious about how I step into them. My old temple didn’t have cohorts, and calling for assistance from others who serve wasn’t an option. That’s going to take some getting used to.”
Frowning, Benger looks at her, “You mean that if you got into trouble, you couldn’t call for help?”
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Plot Points of Note:
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The "Four Fathers" Problem: Master Ember had to mentally brace himself to face the four Rune Axe Clan Fathers, all of whom claim Emlyn as their daughter. They’ve officially accepted her service to Morrighu, but they’re keeping a very sharp eye on her masters.
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The Potion Expansion: Emlyn is playing high-stakes politics, using interest from the Crown to fund the Temple’s expansion into potion making and smithing.
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Kluper’s Future: The boy is officially staying. Emlyn’s already gotten him a wooden sword and shield, teaching him that if he learns to protect himself, no one will ever be able to beat him again.
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Theological Tedium: Our girl is bored by "catechism sessions" about ancient councils. She’d rather learn how to identify forbidden meat on a plate than hear who argued for what a thousand years ago.
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The Great Food Divide: We finally get the scoop on why the Temple has two diets: the paladins and mages need the massive energy expenditure for combat and magic, while the monks and priests kept their "austere" traditions after separate temples merged.
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The "Civility" of Steel: Emlyn explains that among her people, the reason everyone is so "civil" is that giving offense might result in getting your head handed to you. A Cymry woman would apparently kill you with a hair comb if you behaved like a lout.
Atres Watch:
Rating: 3.5/5 Stone Tankards
Tall Obstacle (Atres) didn't have much to do this chapter other than look pretty and be "patient". He’s still bonding with the "Lioness," but he’s currently being overshadowed by the political maneuvering and the arrival of Veni’s handsome brothers and cousins. He needs to do something heroic soon, or I might start writing a poem about how he’s basically a very handsome piece of furniture.
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One Copper: For Master Ember, who had to face four protective dwarven dads at once.
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One Silver: To buy Kluper some actual whetstone for his wooden sword.
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One Gold: To get me a book on "Cymry Hair Comb Combat" so I can finally feel safe in a tavern.