Year 1, Month 1, Week 2, 5th day of the week

Sael

Did everybody have to be so aggravating? Sael knew that most people had their own lives and went about doing things that were completely unrelated to her, but it seemed that everyone she ran into wanted to have some say in her life or felt that they should be privy to her business. Except Frintak and Dexian, of course. They, thankfully, minded their own business unless it directly pertained to their jobs. Now why couldn’t everyone else be like them? The Whisper jarred her out of her thoughts as she laid on her bed, procrastinating, pushing off the inevitable moment that she would get up and have to face the day. Muriel is looking for you. You can hear her, and ignoring it won’t do anything to mend your relationship with her. Just like that, she thought. Her whisper was aggravating and she wouldn’t mind her own business. Come to think of it, she could hear her sister calling her. Aggravating.

It had been a few days since the incident at the raven’s towertop. Her courier had assured her multiple times that Eden and Azrael were alright, but she still got shivers thinking about it. Something about that whole situation just seemed… off. She, of course, had heard about divine interactions happening before, usually something to the tune of bright lights, miracles happening, shifts in political power, all with a hefty helping of “be not afraid”. But this was different. It was creepy. Odin wasn’t known for being a dark or evil god. The god of barbarians, philosophers, and seers, in equal measures, sure, but nothing that would warrant the strangeness of the encounter they had. And what was up with that whispering? It was like she could almost overhear a hushed conversation, but the wind was covering it up. At least her Whisper was clear spoken. You should freshen up and ready yourself for the day. Sael found herself regretting that last thought.

She slung the blankets off and began her morning routine, the largest amount of time taken up by deciding what she was going to wear. She stood, staring at her closet, which was completely unordered, yet Sael knew where everything was. Now, what was she in the mood for? Was it going to be the red dress, the teal pants with a brown blouse? No, not brown. Brown reminded her of Eden. Eden always wore brown burlap. And Sael had paid close attention, too: it was never the same burlap twice in a row. That crazy elf had multiple sets of brown burlap pants and similar shirts in her closet. It was nuts! Not that Eden looked bad in the burlap; Eden could probably pull off wearing an unaltered burlap bag with holes cut in it, if she tried, if Sael was being honest with herself. Maybe it was Eden’s whole color-changing thing she did. Green, blue, orange, and red–all the colors that Sael had seen Eden turn–really looked good against brown. You’re stalling and you know it. She was. But she still had to figure out what colors she wants to wear. White is the generally-accepted color of peace, while green can often be interpreted as a color of renewal and goodwill; your friend Eden is likely familiar with that last part.

“Aggravating.” Sael mumbled to herself as she grabbed the white toga and picked out a green sash.

When she was done, she exited her bedroom to the stair-led balcony overlooking the foyer of her family home. And looked down to find her sister waiting there. As usual, upon sight, Sael felt a wave of annoyance.

“What do you want, hag?” Sael asked before she could stop herself. That wasn’t nice. She hadn’t said anything to deserve that. Muriel tutted, wagging her finger.

“Now, now, Sael, mother is nearby, and it would be a shame if she were to come in and hear you speaking to me like that. You do remember what she said last time, don’t you?” She did, but she wasn’t about to give Muriel the satisfaction.

“Not really. Of course, anything less than outing you as the conniving slag that you are isn’t important enough for me to keep track of anyway.” Please don’t speak like that. Your father is always sad when he hears that his daughters are fighting. Father’s not here right now, she thought to the Whisper. Ignoring Sael, Muriel continued,

“Oh, yeah, it was something along the lines of, ‘silence, Sael, if you were half the woman your sister is, your father would be advising the king. Your mouth and lack of self control has seen to it that the king doesn't regard him as he used to-”

“Yeah?” Sael interrupted. “Let her come show up and try that again. I’ll be happy to remind her that being even close to what you’re like is a curse I’d rather just avoid. I’d rather be anything than the raging bitch that you are. Please watch your language. You want some, too? Sael thought. Useless Whisper.

“Better a bitch than an embarrassment.” Muriel stated, flatly, as she examined her nails as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“I’m glad we understand each other. Now, are you going to tell me what you want, or should I just go about my day? Because, really, I’ve half a mind to start leaving before the sun comes up just so I don’t have to deal with you, to begin with. This little encounter here, where you wake me up and call me out of my room doesn’t do anything to make me want to hear you out.” Muriel put her hand over her her heart for the effect of acting pained and said,

“I just wanted to let you know, out of the goodness of my raging bitch heart, that mother is on the front balcony, addressing some of the lesser nobles; nobles, mind you, not those peasants, like you like to dwell among.” Sael stopped cold; Muriel had her full attention.

“What?”

“Yes, mother wanted me to come get you so we could both be by her side when she addressed them, but, oh dear, it seems that it took me so long to rouse you, that she started some time ago.” So, not out of the goodness of her heart. This was exactly why Sael hated her sister. Muriel could have come up the stairs to actively knock on her door and wake her up, but she deliberately kept her distance so it would seem to their mother that Sael had delayed, which she had, but she was willing to bet that Muriel stood there for a few minutes before she even started calling for her.

“Why are the lesser nobles here?” Sael asked, trying to shake her anger off.

“Well, specifically, these are the people who weren’t invited to discuss the event with the king, like the greater houses. Most of the families present are the families of the paladins that left, and it seems that the paladins leaving in the middle of the day without a word to anyone didn’t sit well with them.”

“So? King’s orders are king’s orders.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. Father didn’t tell them that his orders came from the king; he told them that as paladin-commander, they were commanded and so compelled to muster at the east gate to be debriefed, effective immediately. You know how father can be. Sael, those paladins didn’t get the opportunity to tell their spouses anything before they left.” Gods… Yeah, that did look bad. Especially since her father did get that luxury, and since they didn’t get the chance, it was likely that the king wanted the endeavor kept silent.

“Alright. Play nice while we’re out?” Sael asked, hesitantly. That’s a step in the right direction. Muriel grinned an awful grin with way too many teeth.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

They made their way up the stairs to the doorway to the front balcony, through which waited for them stairs going down to the balcony proper. Sael still didn’t know why there wasn’t just a doorway from the second floor to the balcony. Going up to the third floor, and then back down to what was essentially part of the second floor just seemed like a waste of time.Walking down the stairs to where her mother waited gave her a good view of everyone present. Many families, mostly women and children, but a few men lingered whose wives were paladins. Among the elavis families she saw the Nuntius, the Vehemens, and the Orandi families, she recognized two of the dwarf families, the Cragclimbers and the Pickbreakers, and four of the human families, the Millers, the Johnsons, the Lewises, and the Martins. The rest were all probably named Edwards and Smith or some such.

The sisters walked down the stairs, side by side until they reached their mother who was engaged in heated oration with several of the families. Sael stepped to the left side of her mother, while Muriel stepped to the right. The crowd seemed to grow somewhat quieter now that Sael’s mother wasn’t alone. That was probably just the effect that was needed.

“Matron Erus,” the speaker for House Martin cried out, “we just don’t understand why the force would be mobilized so quickly. In the absence of our beloved paladins, the crown hasn’t made any effort to conscribe the general force. We’re just confused, and you’re not clarifying anything for us!” Several shouts of affirmation punctuated her complaint.

“I’m well aware of your concerns, Matron Martin, and I am explaining them to the best of my ability. Bear in mind that my husband is out there, too, so you’re not alone in your concerns. As for the lack of present conscription, I have no answers for myself, or I would share them with you.” A cacophony of other complaints erupted. It didn’t look like it was going well.

“You’re avoiding even the possibility of giving us answers, yet again, Matron Erus!” declared the representative from the Orandi family. “My daughter is at school right now, and if her mother never comes home, I don’t have any explanation I can give, other than ‘Patriarch Erus took her from us’!” Several other statements of assent were voiced. Sael decided it was time to open her mouth.

“Patron Orandi!” All eyes turned and looked at Sael. The looks her mother and sister gave her said very plainly, “This was not part of the plan; you were supposed to stand there and look pretty”. Sael ignored them. “I acknowledge that Matriarch Orandi was taken from you yesterday afternoon, quite unceremoniously, too, if it was anything like my father’s departure. Allow me to ask you a few questions, just so I can establish a line of reasoning we can all accept. Is that agreeable to you and everyone here?” She looked around to see collective nods. Her mother’s lips were pursed into a thin pink line. All three women of the House of Erus knew that Sael speaking in public usually meant trouble. “Patron Orandi, did Matriarch Orandi have anything negative to say about Patriarch Erus, my father?”

“From time to time.” Sael could feel her lips pursing, like her mother’s.

“Would you mind naming them off? The most notable two or three will do.”

“Well,” he said, “she would mention that he was very demanding, that he requires everyone under him to be exactly on time, and to arrive with pristinely polished armor, things of that sort.”

“Since Matriarch Orandi is part of the Order, is it safe to assume that my father was the subject of many conversations of that sort and more? Surely she brought work home from time to time, and the training regimen my father imposes is not easy. Am I correct?”

“Yes, Madam Erus. She’s had more good things to say about him than bad.” Thank Nemesis, that was better.

“So, these negative things she would say about my father, was anything along the lines of ‘he’s an unfair man’, or ‘he doesn’t explain himself to his subordinates’, or ‘he only barks orders’, or anything of that nature?”

He shook his head. “No, Madam, nothing of that sort.”

“So,” Sael ventured, taking a risk, “does anyone have any real complaints about his character and behavior towards his subordinates up to yesterday that is anything similar to the possible complaints I suggested?” No one spoke up. She had essentially dared them to openly speak ill of her father, and she knew that would be a dangerous move that they wouldn’t want to risk. “Next question, then.” Sael continued. “I’m going to make an assumption and I need you to tell me if I’m correct or incorrect: Matriarch Orandi believes that following the orders of her superiors is important; is that correct?”

His voice seemed to falter as he put together the pieces of where she was going with this. “That is- That is correct, Madam.”

“I assure you that my father believes that following orders is very important, as well.” Be very careful, Sael; please don’t implicate the king! It seemed her Whisper was somewhat slower in putting together the pieces. “So, if my father has not been known to keep information from his subordinates in any way that might really upset them, and he is absolutely one to follow orders, as is your Matriarch, I think you should have a very good idea of why we don’t have any workable answers for you.” The people started muttering to each other in hushed, concerned tones. “So, understanding that this line of reasoning is one that could absolutely be worked out by anyone, I think you all should be very careful with how you proceed.” There it was. Her logic, obviously flawed, was laced with just enough warnings to deter any of them from pressing the issue. Threats, Sael. Calling things what they are is the first step to recognizing poor behavior. Whatever. “Now, good Sirs, Madams, Patrons, Matrons, Patriarchs, and Matriarchs, I would ask that you take some time and contemplate the things that have been said here. Go home and discuss this, and, if you think it worthy of further discussion with our Matron, even today, come back, speak to our butler, and he will schedule you some time with her.”

Sael’s mother said her farewells to the crowd, who were now so consumed with whispering speculations to each other that they hardly paid her any attention, and the trio ducked back inside.

“Why did you do that, Sael?” demanded her mother in a low, but not quite even voice as she shut the doors. Muriel stood behind her and smirked.

“Why did I persuade that mob out there that you aren’t the bad guy? Because you sure weren’t doing that. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You inferred that your father was receiving orders from higher up than him!”

Sael shrugged. “Yes, and?” Please be more respectful to your mother.

“And all it takes is one person from that mob to talk to the wrong person and the crown throws us into prison and strips your father of his rank. I gladly would have had all the nobles angry with me, ready to storm my house, because at least then, I could have them arrested. When the paladins return, more will be explained and the focus won’t be on us anymore. But once again, you failed to think about the long-term consequences of your actions! Not to mention, you threatened them.”

“Mother, I-”

“No, don’t open your mouth now! You’ve used it quite enough for my tastes.” She paused. “Sael, those people out there aren’t stupid. They’re scared, but not stupid. They’re not going to forget that when they came to us for answers, we threatened them. You spoke on our behalf, and you were not asked to. The things you say and do in public affect us all.” And with that, she turned and walked away, trailed closely by Muriel.

Why did they have to be so ungrateful? No ‘thank you, favored daughter, for sticking up for me’, no, ‘thanks for getting the crowd off my back’, nothing. Just an overly-critical speech about why she should be silent all the time, when, in fact, they should be praising her for her obviously-good diplomatic technique. Pride is not a good attribute to have. Haughtiness in the face of good advice, even less so.

Aggravating.

She pondered going back to bed, but if she went to sleep now, she’d be up all night. Wandering outside, it was. Perhaps something to drink? She went to her room, grabbed her coin purse, headed back down to the front door, and opened it to find Dexian and Frintak waiting for her. How did they know? They always knew when she was about to leave and managed to be at the exact exit she was planning to leave from. She shook her head.

“Come on, you big lugs, let’s find a tavern and get some drink in you.” She didn’t look, but she knew that they were grinning.

She stepped outside and walked around for a bit, passing up bars that she didn’t care for or places she knew served diluted ale. Eventually, she made her way to the fountain close to the castle and sat down to rest for a bit. Frintak and Dexion took up defensive positions to ensure no one bothered her. The fountain depicted a god, like every other fountain in the city. This one was of Hephaestus, the god of crafting, forging, tinkering, and other creative works, laboring over an anvil, water spouting up where sparks would have been. She remembered some of Hephaestus’ followers tried to attribute more abstract creative works to him such as poetry, but the worshippers of Apollo took offense at that. Where was the Apollo fountain? She thought long and hard, dipping her hand absentmindedly into the fountain. Soon enough, she was distracted from the thought and more interested in the water. There were plenty of bronze coins at the bottom and she reached for one so she could toss it into the water spout and watch it get launched back into the fountain. Her hand touched the coin and she stopped and frowned. The bottom of the fountain, towards the drain, was grey, about a foot wide, all the way around the drain itself. She pulled her sleeve up, reached over, almost shoulder deep in the water, and rubbed the grey area. It wasn’t dirty. The area there was just grey.

“Boys,” she called to her guards, “slight detour; we’re headed to the library.”