go-outside-book

[go-outside-book]

Mushrunes and Mycellogos

The Druidic language is square, derived from bark carvings. The first order is called Seed, a square ideogram. The second order is called Bark, a 2x2 grid of ideograms, four seeds. The third order is called Stone, a 2x2 grid of Barks, sixteen seeds. Further orders are called Bolder and Cave, 64 and 256. The names come from the type of place where the symbols are normally inscribed. Seed, Bark, Stone, Boulder, Cave. Each one is larger and more permanent than the last, more suited for a larger text. The Druidic language is almost entirely used to record information about plants, animals, places, and events. Seed can name a type of plant; vegetable, briar, grass, grain. Bark can name a specific plant: redberry, hovelbush, gloambriar. Stone can describe the traits of that plant: partial sun, dry, with good drainage, seeds spread by fruit. Boulder can describe its history and uses: domesticated long ago, jam and jelly, easy to harvest and process, slow-growing, valuable if protected for many years. Cave can describe its poetic and magical qualities: support and sustenance, survival, prosperity-while-poor, homeliness, nostalgia, reason, earthiness, sweetness, hardiness, nourishment. There are rumors of a final order, Cavern, which can describe the total nature of a plant, including its great mysteries, but no Cavern texts have ever been discovered.

The Mushroom People and their neighbors are often fluent in the Mushroom Language, which is derived from Druid Runes. While Druid Runes are always square, Mushroom Runes (Mushrunes) can append runes to the corners, budding off in multiple directions, telling rambling stories. This multi-linear language forms branching rambles. It's difficult to interpret and understand, because it's often metaphorical or abstract. Meanwhile, most of the Mushroom Folk do not know Imperial Common, or refuse to speak it. They are usually friendly and generous, though poor, but they do not induct strangers into their mysteries. They teach their language willingly, but do not lead strangers to their Rune Caves.

Each Rune Cave describes at least one key plant, animal, event, or place in full detail (256 ideograms). Finding that cave, theoretically, would grant one significant knowledge of magical and poetic mysteries. The square text is usually engraved in ancient Druid Runes and painted in a single color, often luminous gold. Mushrunes bud from this Druidic text, spiraling off fractally in every direction, forming trails that lead throughout the cave. Usually they are painted with a different color, especially green. As they grow more distant from the central text, they may become more disparate and less organized. Thus, a single rune near the entrance of the cave may signify its importance and lead the way to the mystery at its center. Indeed, Mushrunes often serve as signposts throughout the Underlands, forming a network of paths known as the Mycellogos. The Shroomfolk claim that understanding their language doesn't help one navigate the Mycellogos. Rather, personal knowledge of the local area creates a connection between place-names and paths, just as the grid-like structure of the Druid Runes gives relational meaning to individual ideograms. In a way, the language itself is synonymous with the topology of the land, because the location of a word inflects its meaning and the meaning, in return, transforms the land.

[go-outside-book]

Paupers and Villages

In the hills around Vague Mountain, in the pine forests near the Winter Palace, there have always been numerous small villages. They slept in log longhouses, cooked on communal fire-pits, drove ox-carts down cobbled streets, and hunted or cut wood in the alpine forest. Many of the stairs and trails in that region are older than the Grey Mountain Era, so it's told. In 654, during the War Culture initiative, Empress le Tyr commanded the Civil Guard to remove homeless people from the Capitol Banks areas and relocate them to a distant region. Because of the poor quality of the roads in that time, they were only able to move people en mass to the regions devoted to aristocratic leisure. The Vague Mountain Road crumbled slightly in the steep places, but the majority of the smaller routes were completely impassable to wagons. Le Tyr commanded, therefore, that pauper settlements be built beneath the Winter Palace,1 and Town Baths be constructed to administrate them. The Civil Guard, lacking particular orders, assisted the paupers with logging and construction.

Those colonies endured for nearly twenty years with little aid aside from a single Garden Temple. The paupers built towns around the Baths and conducted trade with the local Village folk. The Village culture in that place blended Woods and Hills architecture with a slight affinity for Badlands cuisine. The people of the capitol generally considered them bandits. Following the Settlement Act and the General Relocation Effort, the Land Office mapped and measured the villages, then zoned them for expansion. This entailed the investiture of local Dukes and March-Lords, who were made landlords and administrators of the enumerated villages. The folk of the villages, in turn, undertook to abandon their regions immediately and retreat into caves, many becoming authentic bandits. Some of the paupers from the settlements joined them, while some of the villagers also joined the pauper settlements. This coincided with the rise of mechanical sawmills and flume-roads.

The social changes of this time produced a number of stories with similar themes. "Daven and Wren," or "Raven and Wren" concerns a roguish male pauper from the capitol and a female naturalist from the village. "The Heart-Gold Loop" and "Falcon or Crane" concern a humble washerwoman from the capitol and a fierce male bandit from the hills-caves. "Seven Treasures" features a wedded couple of charlatans from the capitol dock yards juxtaposed with a goatherd and a farmer from Battle Hills. Most famously, "The Guy Who Wanted Sex" features a man of mixed ancestry who courts a variety of women of different types. In some tellings, these maidens are used to illustrate different stereotypes or stock characters, while elsewhere they are used to elaborate certain moral lessons. In similar fashion, the endings of these stories are changed to suit the storyteller's intended moral. Each story has a set of tragic endings, a set of romantic endings, and a variety of mixed endings. A skilled storyteller switches up their intended ending to surprise their audience, and often provides false clues to confuse the audience's expectations. This technique is called "penumbra foreshadowing," and is especially common in tales of this setting.

Especially after the Second State Act of 670, storytellers often prepared patriotic versions of their favorite stories to deliver to the Throne's censors and scribes. These are the versions recorded in le Tyr's "National Folktales." The tales included in my collection have been reconstructed from the preferred versions of the original tellers, using necro-telepathy where necessary. In these stories, not subject to Throne censorship, we can easily chart a pattern of anti-national sentiment, which must have been strong in the settlements and villages of the State Period. The rebels of this period usually disavowed their own rebellions publicly, and the storytellers seemingly did the same. This tactic of "quiet resistance," thematically, gave rise to the style of the Outside Movement.

In the post-State Era, Null Conference essayists often claimed that the Outside Movement failed because of its discretion, ambiguity, and ambivalence. Indeed, Outside Movement actions did not succeed in dethroning le Tyr or ending the Empire. This noncommittal strategy, however, proved essential to the appeal of the rebellions of that period. No leaders could ever be found. The trials and executions of that period had a tragically comedic character due to the absolute obscurity of the "revolutionary" and "treasonous" prisoners presented to the public. My thesis holds that the true extent and impact of the Outside Movement was never recorded, and in fact was deliberately suppressed by official sources. See my previous collection, "Forgotten Rebellions, 252 to 720," for a comprehensive strategic history. This collection aims to chart the cultural transformations of the Late Empire period, especially by examining romantic stories to chart changes in ideas about gender.

Census records from the War Culture period indicate that deaths of male paupers exceeded deaths of female paupers by about 72% per age cohort. This likely relates to the Security Order of 654, which mandated that female paupers and wards of the state be attached to a Registered Charitable Organization, specifically a "temple, squadron, academy, or workshop," from which they could receive "regular and necessary services." Male paupers were instead attached to a Regional Crown, normally a Duke or March-Lord, but received no guarantee of services and were expected to find their own means of survival. Both male and female paupers were expected to carry travel signets at all times, and could not leave their appointed regions. Women sometimes managed to travel by transferring to a different chapter of their Registered Charitable Organization, while men occasionally traveled during military service.

During the War Culture Era, the Eukarian ideals of Female Primacy did not really apply to poor women, much less to paupers. Those who fell on the aid of the state (nearly everyone, after the Great Disaster of 625) uniformly gave up their autonomy in terms of work and travel. The women merely received additional services, support, and respect. The paupers of this time generally constituted a forced-labor class with no more privileges than the serfs of Grossdale or conscripts of Windelle. The Villagers, regardless of their gender, seemed to possess a fair amount of autonomy, regardless of their gender, so long as they avoided State officers and did not petition the Throne for anything.

After the Green Rebellion raised a considerable army in the countryside, these "untamed villages" became the target for a zealous reapplication of the Settlement Law. After burning the Green Throne, Empress le Tyr published her "Annunciations," then personally organized the Cultural Perfection Movement and the Second Relocation Effort. During the whole War Culture period, it's often said, the aristocrats of the capitol anxiously watched the magic boxes and the scrying fields. Yet they, like the paupers, produced subtle signs of dissent. With the rise of the Outside Movement, this resistance become more overt, and the contradictions of the Empire became more apparent.

1You may wonder why the Winter Palace was constructed in hills of Vague Mountain, while the Summer Palace lay in the center of the valley. Vague Mountain's steam vents and hot springs are famed for their healing properties, and Bath Trips have been held there since the Grey Mountain Era at least. The oldest bath in the mountain is likely the complex around Dragon Sanctum, which predates the Gray Mountain Era entirely, and is likely older than the Green Mountain Era as well. The Winter Palace was heated by these very same hot springs, and of course it boasted a startling array of luxurious baths. The Summer Palace, meanwhile, was mostly underground, cooled by a variety of waterfalls. It was positioned in the center of the valley to oversee farming.

[go-outside-book]

CHAPTER I

When the first breeze of Spring dawn caressed the Great Valley, it found most windows still shuttered against Winter. The moon was just a thin sliver, but waxing. High in the mountains, the gloomy corridors of the Red House Halls sweltered in the heat of braziers and steam vents, lit mainly by narrow and dusty shafts of sunlight that streamed through crimson stained glass, encrusted with dry vines. There, the nobles of the Great Valley Empire lived like hostages under the vigilant patronage of Empress Aymis le Tyr. It was the 113th year of her reign. All the windows of that moody citadel were battened against the cold, except for one.

In the sky above the valley hung the derelict fragments of the GVES Heliopause, a skyship which had been destroyed nearly a century earlier. Below, amid fallow fields and cold creeks, mechanical vineyards trundled inexorably. Wolves stalked the pine forests and rabbits hunted for sprouts and bulbs. The common folk, in their tattered coats, plowed their fields and hacked at stumps. They were hunting in the wilderness, while the soldiers sat ensconced in their forts, with the smoke of their fires drifting up through the steely mists.

The Red Keep was built of red sandstone blocks, quarried in the valley below. A road ran from the gate of this palace all the way down to the Capitol Banks, aside the Great River. Since the road was built from the same red blocks, they called it the Red Road. Somewhere along that road, in the foothills of the mountains, lay the ruins of Brink Stream Castle, where the empire had begun. By that time, Brink Stream was just a town.

That was where Mell had been born, and she had been searching for it, sitting at the window of her study in one of the Red Keep's towers, on the verge of tears. She had sunk to the floor, which was how Chess had found her. The two women sat together on the carpet, talking. When they were children, they had played games of knights and strategy in that same room. Slowly, it had been converted from a playroom to a schoolroom to a study. Now it felt like a prison. In the Red Houses, there was nothing to do.

Her proper name was Princess Melles Yeleen. To her friends, she was Lady Mell. She was short and slight, wiry, with a long face and a bitter gaze. Her enemies called her "Princess Jawline" because of her severe expression, or, in hushed tones, just "The Princess." She was not the heir of Empress le Tyr. She was second in line to inherit the Blue Rose Throne, seat of a minor but elegant house. With little ambition and much regret, she felt empowered to act unwisely. Her occasional petty tyranny had spawned a few legends. Aside from these rumors, she had no claim to fame.

Chess was a knight. Her proper name was Mys Jielle Chesjen, and she was often called Chesje.1 Compared to Mell, she was tall and doughty, with a simple and serious face. She had been born a peasant, brought up as a handmaid, and later trained to serve as Mell's bodyguard. At all times, she bore with her a sense of stoic duty and gratitude, even as her own sorrows weighed heavily. When they sat together, she knew that Mell valued her reliability and humility. Perhaps they even cared for each other.

Chess: "Have you been sorrowing again?"

Mell: "Only slightly. I'm well enough."

Chess: "Is it your sister? Or your mother?"

Mell: "I dare say it's the Empress."

Chess: "Don't."

Mell: "I mustn't dare, I know."

Chess: "Would you like to take out your rage..?"

Mell: "I won't go bother the kitchen staff."

Chess: "Has it gotten boring?"

Mell: "Maybe it was always boring."

Chess: "Very well. As you wish."

Mell: "It's the scent of Spring, honestly. So cruel. The thought of another Summer..."

Chess: "You know, you have... you have the right to leave."

Mell: "On what errand?"

Chess: "I could help you think of one."

Mell: "Oh could you? What could keep me away from here, all Summer?"

Chess: "Perhaps inspecting the fields and frontiers."

Mell: "Great. Five months of looking at peasants and dung."

Chess: "You don't have to write a report. You could just go to the hinterlands and ride horses."

Mell: "They'll call me decadent. And I'll never get married."

Chess: "Do you care what they call you?"

Mell: "I'll miss all the dances. And when I come back, I'll be parochial."

Chess: "It's good for the vigor, to be parochial."

Mell: "It sounds like you want to ride horses."

Chess: "I want to ride pegasi, if I may be quite honest."

Mell: "Well, you haven't convinced me."

Chess: "It's not my job to convince you of anything. Quite the contrary."

They sat together for a few moments, until it seemed that Chess was about to stand up and sit in a chair. This filled Mell with a sudden desperation. If she were left alone on the floor, she would be humiliated. Her moment of quiet rebellion would end. Without a solution to her woes, she could not return to her duties. If she stood up or sat properly, she would be forced to think of a proper solution, and therefore she would remain enslaved forever. It was necessary that she think of a plan right there, on the carpet, and she needed Chess' help. Mell took a card out of her pocket and said, "Look at this."

It was a Quality Card, gold-bordered, with the fields filled in neat red ink. Chess inspected it, turning it over. She said, "Who's this?"

The card looked like this:

Family Name

Harre

Rank

1

Skill

Rank

Personal Name

Yelos

Class

Lancer

Lance

2

Origin

Brink Stream

Charge

Soldier

Bow

3

Birth Date

652, Winter

Order/Office

Silver Blade

Ride

4

Language

8

Speed

92

Spirit

81

Strategy

3

Strength

74

Willpower

73

Math

6

Endurance

80

Perception

57

Dexterity

86

Intelligence

86

Grace

97

Creativity

67

Mell: "It's me."

Chess: "Harre Yelos?"

Mell: "I made it up. It's a man's name."

Chess: "I know that. But why?"

Mell: "Women's scores are always inflated. As are nobles."

Chess: "So you just wanted an honest score?"

Mell: "I mean... I quit early. During the Skills section. I was afraid they'd catch me."

Chess: "It's illegal, isn't it? To masquerade as a man?"

Mell: "Yes. So don't tell anyone."

Chess: "You took quite a risk..."

Mell: "I went all the way to Rocky Hill to get tested."

Chess: "You're proud of yourself."

Mell: "It was fun."

Chess: "You mustn't take such risks."

Mell: "You can't stop me."

Chess: "That's where you went! ...when you were 'sightseeing' in the east."

Mell: "I'm sorry I couldn't bring you along."

Chess: "You could have brought me along."

Mell: "You're not a great liar."

Chess grumbled as she took out her own card to compare it with Mell's. Women were allowed to carry Quality Cards, while men were required to. For a lady knight, it was considered a professional responsibility to care for one's stats and skills. Chess' card looked like this:

Family Name

Jielle

Rank

11

Skill

Rank

Skill

Rank

Personal Name

Chesjen

Class

Pegassier

Ride

12

Strategy

7

Origin

Jark

Charge

Knight

Fly

19

Leadership

5

Birth Date

651

Order/Office

Blue Rose

Armor

15

Wpn. Craft

5

Lance

17

Music

3

Speed

71

Spirit

19

Sword

13

Art

4

Strength

67

Willpower

31

Bow

15

Cooking

2

Endurance

84

Perception

61

Heal

16

Dexterity

79

Intelligence

58

Language

7

Grace

47

Creativity

57

Magic

6

Chess had served two years in the Aicortitz Mountains, after the end of the Windelle War. She had been theoretically just a peacekeeper, but there was a lot of guerilla combat in those days. In fact, Chess had seen so much combat that Mell had begin to suspect that someone was pulling the strings, trying to get her killed. Mell didn't want to look at Chess' card. She knew what it said, and she knew that Chess was sensitive about some of the lower numbers. Chess, for her part, couldn't refrain from mentioning it.

Chess: "I don't know how you got these stats."

Mell: "But look at my skills!"

Chess: "Yeah, yeah, we'll get to that. But... 97 Grace? How is that even possible?"

Mell: "I've always loved dancing..."

Chess: "They should have put you on the front lines..."

Mell: "They'd never let me fight."

Chess: "They let your sister fight."

Mell: "They let her command. It's different. She sat on the bridge of an airship and told them what to bomb."

Chess: "Well, you could have done that. 86 Intelligence..."

Mell: "It never interested me..."

Chess: "Anyway, don't feel bad about your skills. You said yourself, you quit early. I guess you didn't want to test Magic..."

Mell: "How would a man get 15 Lightning?"

Chess: "You think you'd only get 15?"

Mell: "I'd rather not know. Magic is born from mystery, anyway."

At that moment, the door creaked and swung open. Mell's sister stood there smirking. Her name was Yaera. She was a little taller and stronger, with a commanding presence. She was supposed to be very beautiful and intimidating. Of the two of them, people seemed more afraid of Mell, but only because she had a bad reputation. Yaera had the type of domineering confidence that comes from years of abstract authority. She advanced quickly, shoving Mell aside, and snatched the cards from Chess. Then she turned around and plopped into a chair to review them at her leisure. She furrowed her brow in amusement, like she was reading bad poetry.

Mell and Chess both stood up, on the verge of action, but Yaera's slouch somehow became even more relaxed.

Yaera: "74 Strength... 57 Perception... 86 Intelligence... I always knew you would never equal me."

Mell: "Give it back."

Yaera: "Oh, let me learn something about my family. You talk to me so rarely..."

Mell: "I wonder why."

Yaera: "But your knight here... 19 Spirit? We really must replace her. I'll talk to mother..."

Mell: "Don't!"

Yaera: "Oh, that's right. It's illegal, isn't it? False identity..."

Chess: "Mell..."

Yaera: "Yes, I was eavesdropping. And your knight is party to the conspiracy..."

Mell: "She didn't help."

Yaera: "Can't have people thinking we're above the law."

Mell: "Are you threatening us?"

Yaera: "Someone has to take the fall."

Mell: "You don't have to tell anyone."

Yaera: "But I really should. It's my responsibility."

Mell: "Please."

Yaera: "I like it when you beg."

Mell: "I'm not begging."

Yaera: "That's a shame. If you were, I might consider your point of view."

Mell: "Yaera, please."

Yaera: "Please, please, please. That doesn't cut it."

Mell: "What is wrong with you?"

Yaera: "Let's keep it civil. I'm bored, that's all. Political life doesn't suit me."

Mell: "You're rather be bombing civilians?"

Yaera: "You keep digging yourself deeper. Let's talk later. After I speak with mother."

Mell: "No! I'll-"

Yaera: "Oh? You'll...?"

Mell: "Whatever you want."

Yaera: "Say it again."

Mell: "I'll give you whatever you want."

Yaera: "All right. Fine. That's a good deal. I'll keep this one secret for you…"

Mell: "...and...?"

Yaera: "And you'll do me a favor... of my choosing... later. Whatever I want."

Mell: "You'll decide later?"

Yaera: "I think that's fair."

Mell: "Fair!?"

Yaera: "This will weigh heavily on my conscience. A corruption of the Empire, which I love so dearly."

Mell: "You..."

Yaera: "Best remain polite, sister."

Mell: "Fine. Is that all?"

Yaera: "I suppose so. I'd better get going. There's a nasty smell in the air."

She glared at Chess as she said that. When she handed the cards back to Mell, she added, "For your own safety, you should really find a better guard. Someone who can use magic, at least. Since apparently you can't." Mell gritted her teeth. She wasn't about to tell Yaera that she had avoided testing magic on purpose. Instead, she just grunted like a beast. Yaera left without ceremony, waving her hand vaguely, singing, "I'll pray for you."

Mell closed the door firmly, then walked to the window and sat on the bench there. She took a deep breath, tasting the breeze. Chess stood by the door with her arms crossed, staring darkly at the floor.

Chess: "Does she really think you can't use magic?"

Mell: "Of course she knows I can use magic! She was just trying to provoke me. She's always been like this. I think she's looking for a fight. She needs some kind of scheme to occupy her time... until she can convince the Empress to invade another country."

Chess: "That shouldn't be hard."

Mell: "Watch your tongue. By the way, she only said those things about you because she knows you can't defend yourself."

Chess: "I know. She was just trying to provoke you."

Mell: "She knows it makes me mad..."

Chess: "Are you becoming righteous, these days?"

Mell: "She's only doing it to annoy me. That's what bothers me."

Chess: "Ah, good. I was worried you'd become concerned for me."

Mell: "I haven't lost my objectivity. But I recognize a threat when I see it. Do you think I'd let her select my retinue? Because that's the next step, if she manages to get rid of you."

Chess: "I see."

Mell: "Anyway, I can't brood about this all day. I have to do something useful."

Chess: "Perhaps some fresh air would help?"

Mell: "You want to go riding?"

Chess: "I'm in the mood to hunt, myself."

Mell: "You know I don't hunt."

Chess: "You could watch."

Mell: "Let's just go riding."

Chess: "Shall I inform the stables?"

Mell: "Let's go together."

Mell dressed carelessly in riding boots and a split dress. She took a short bow, a sword, and a sketchbook. Chess, wearing pants, half-plate armor, and a sword of her own, was already prepared. She took her spear up from where it lay against the wall. They walked the halls with a grim fury, scattering servants. The butler asked, "Will you take lunch before you leave?"

Mell told him, "We'll eat when we return." She wanted to be hungry. Somehow, the desperation of survival always cleared her mind. She wanted to be attacked by wolves, deep in the woods. She wanted to fight a bear, without magic.

When they crossed the courtyard, Yaera was still nowhere to be seen. It was grassy, in those days, bordered by blue rose bushes and red climbing ivy. Years ago, during the war, the courtyard had been a muddy pit, suitable only for sparring soldiers. Despite her impatience, Mell walked carefully, with stately pace, on the neat gravel paths.

The stable was dusty and dim. In the corner, with a shaft of sunlight falling on his lap, a young man lounged on a hay-bale. He wore the Red Vine jacket, livery of an outdoor servant. With a focused expression, he was scribbling something in a leather-bound notebook. Mell stood in the center of the room and put her hands on her hips.

Mell: "Excuse me!"

The man stood. He lumbered up slowly, burly and sullen.

Mell: "What is your name?"

He said, "Groeffe, Madame. Moeken Groeffe. Yes, I'm new."

Mell: "Moeken? Show me your card."

He nodded and approached her, taking the card out of his jacket pocket and handing it to her. It looked like this:

Family Name

Moeken

Rank

2

Skill

Rank

Personal Name

Groeffe

Class

Groom

Animal Care

7

Origin

Jark

Charge

Servant

Woodcutting

3

Birth Date

651, Spring

Order/Office

Red Vine

Language

5

Hunting

2

Speed

67

Spirit

52

Construction

3

Strength

83

Willpower

65

Toolcraft

3

Endurance

90

Perception

86

Riding

7

Dexterity

71

Intelligence

67

Herbalism

4

Grace

43

Creativity

56

Trapping

2

Mell inspected it slowly, then rolled her eyes. She handed it to Chess, who inspected it without interest. Moeken put his hands in his pockets and turned his gaze down, until Chess returned the card to him.

Mell: "Chess, you're from Jark, aren't you?"

Chess: "I am."

Mell: "Do you know this man?"

Chess: "I don't. He's probably from the woods."

Mell: "Well, never mind. Young man, please prepare us two horses."

Moeken: "As you wish. Do you have a preference?"

Mell: "For myself, Chester. For my knight... Cascade, right?"

Chess: "Yes, he's my favorite."

Moeken bowed and got to work. He kept a distance from the two women, unsure of their rank. He made a respectful display of anxiety, fumbling urgently with his ropes. Mell took the opportunity to ask a question that been slowly growing in the back of her mind.

Mell: "What were you doing, when we came in?"

Moeken: "I was drawing, Ma'am."

Mell: "Drawing what?"

Moeken: "Well, nothing, really."

Mell: "Nothing? Answer the question."

Moeken: "Really, nothing! Just... lines and circles!"

Mell: "Show me."

He dropped the lead and closed the door of Chester's stall, then took the journal out from his pocket and showed it to her. She leafed through it. The first few pages were filled with complex abstract geometries, swirling arcs and radiating lines. It had all been drawn freehand, in neat, precise pencil. Mell shook her head and returned the book. Moeken sighed and turned away from her, eagerly getting back to work.

Mell: "Seems a strange thing to draw."

Moeken: "It relaxes me. I'm not good at drawing portraits or landscapes anyway."

Mell: "And you can afford the paper?"

Moeken: "I'm paid well enough. And I have no family."

Mell: "I suppose you prefer drawing over working?"

Moeken: "Well, I'm finished. I mean, I was."

Mell: "Were you?"

Moeken: "The horses are fed and brushed. The stable is clean."

Mell: "I'm sure you could find something useful to do."

Moeken: "As you wish, Ma'am."

Mell: "Don't laze around in your livery. Wait until you retire for the evening."

Moeken: "As you wish, Ma'am."

Mell: "Is that all you can say?"

Moeken: "Sorry, Madame."

Mell: "Who do you report to? Wait. Never mind. I don't care. Just... try to look sharp. Please."

Moeken: "As you wish. I mean, I'll do my best. Madame."

By that time, he had finished saddling the horses. Chester was a nut-brown mare, while Cascade was a white stallion. Chess took her horse out the door. As Mell took the reins from Moeken, she said, in parting, "And the stable is not clean."

They rode through the gate of the castle, down across the moat, and around up into the high valley, along narrow dirt paths into the hunting groves. As they slowed, in deference to the low-hanging branches of gnarled pines, Mell remarked, "I don't know what it takes to find decent service. I think our men aren't suited for it."

Chess: "He seemed sweet."

Mell: "I think I want to destroy his life."

Chess: "Of course you do..."

Mell: "I want to ruin him."

Chess: "What if he makes you better?"

Mell: "I'm willing to take the risk."

When they broke into the fields, Mell started into a gallop at once. Chess, at a canter, followed casually behind, letting her ride off alone. The ground was still half-frozen, crunching under hoof. The steam of the horses' breath mingled with mists laying low over the dry grasses. A few ravens took flight.

1Pronounced Chess-yuh.