Sythyry

Change of Plans [17 Hispis 4385]

Thank you, O monsters and such who read and reply. I was going to stop at the
nearest port and toss the stowaways off the ship (from a height of about five
feet) and let them fend for themselves. But after reading and musing on all
the discussion, I will not. I will let them off at my next port of call in
the ordinary course of things, which, with only a minor change of plans, will
be in Srineia. In the meantime, I need to borrow a few envelopes from Vae.

Borrowing Envelopes

I tracked Vae down! She was playing The Serpent of the Vortex with Ochirion
and Quendry. She was in the shape of a serpent with a row of butterfly wings
down her back, unmatched both stylistically and aerodynamically.

Me:“Hallo … will you be much longer at the game?”

Quendry:“Yes! We won’t be much longer! No! Yes! I’m going to
roll a seven and then I’m going to win!”

Me:“Are you now? I was actually talking to Vae.”

Vae:“Not so long will the game be if Quendry rolls a
seven!”

Me:[in the Nice Language -- a horrible language which Vae forced
down my mind a long time ago, and which nobody else around here
speaks.]“And you wouldn’t dream of ensuring that Quendry
rolls a seven, just so you could get out of the game?”

Vae:[also in the Nice Language]“Not that! The happy game it is,
and already have I asked Quendry and Ochirion for a rematch!”

Ochirion:“What? Whaa-aa-aat? Did you call me a porcupine,
Vae?” I suppose “for a rematch” sounds a bit like “is a porcupine”,
if you are seven years old.

Vae:“Not that! And would you like to be a porcupine this
afternoon, Ochirion?”

Me:“I hope you ask Zascalle or Thiane before you transform their
children.”

Vae: [suddenly rueful] “The I hope I do too.”

Quendry picked up the dice and rolled a seven, completely fairly. He moved
his pawn the obligatory seven steps to the serpent’s head.

Quendry:“I win! I win the game! Can you believe it? How could
I roll a seven? I rolled a seven and I win the game! How did I do that?
It was a seven! It was four plus three! How can that be seven? It is
seven!”

Vae:“The very good move, Quendry! Congratulations!”

Me:“Not that he was at one of the three places in the game where
the player can actually choose what to do.” I hate that game.

Quendry:“You are both very good players! I am happy to play with
you! You make me happy! But how can I win? How can I roll a seven and
win? It was three plus four! I mean four plus three! It is
seven!”

Me:“Vae? While he’s drunk on his victory, could you give me some
envelopes, to write to Kzip La Hish and Nangbang back in Oorah
Thrassen?”

Quendry:“I am making up the dance for seven! Here it is! The
dance for seven!” He cavorted awkwardly. “Ochirion, come dance
the dance for seven with me!”

Ochirion:“I’m dancing the dance for seven!” He might have
been, too, but I couldn’t see how his dance and Quendry’s were at all the
same.

Vae:“The certainly!” She transformed some cookie crumbs into
ferocious Locador scroll-tubes.

Diplomacy at a Distance

Here’s the first:

Dear Kzip,

Your indentured servant Dorze the spell-scribe has stowed away on my skyboat.
I’m afraid I was unaware, and, indeed, unconscious at the time that it
happened. The Sky Pilot’s Guild, of which I have the honor to be an associate
member, recommends that I put him aground at my next port of call, which will
be Eigrach in Srineia. But I recognize your particular interest in this
stowaway. If you like, I will lend you (with Dorze as your agent) the money to
buy him passage on a skyboat from Eigrach to Oorah Thrassen — when I can find
one; Srineia has little direct commerce with Ketheria. I am not sure how
likely he would be to stay on such a skyboat all the way back to Ketheria,
since he has, already, recently attempted once to leave your service. Various
other arrangements are possible as well. I expect to spend at least two months
in Eigrach; you could, e.g., send an agent here to collect him –
assuming of course that he does not wish to flee further; I have few effective
and legal means of restraining him. Or at any rate, you can send a letter to
him urging him to come home (or whatever course of action you wish); I enclose
two return envelopes, courtesy of the nendrai Vaisessasilmin.

With apologies for any perplexities or expenses I have directly or indirectly
caused you, I remain, your hmbl srvt, Sythyry.

And here’s the harder one.

Dear Nangbang and family,

I regret to inform you that your daughter Lost-Eyes was discovered stowed away
on my skyboat. The Sky Pilot’s Guild, of which I have the honor to be an
associate member, recommends that I put her aground at my next port of call,
which will be Eigrach in Srineia. According to Guild rules, that should be the
end of the matter for me. However, I recognize that you may wish for your
daughter to have better treatment than that. I would be happy, for example, to
lend you (with Lost-Eyes as your agent) the money to buy her passage on a
skyboat from Eigrach to Oorah Thrassen — when I can find one; Srineia has
little direct commerce with Ketheria. I am not sure how likely she would be to
stay on such a skyboat all the way back to Ketheria, since she has recently
left home and shows no great eagerness to return. I expect to spend at least
two months in Eigrach, and would be happy to keep your daughter comfortable
and safe there. My sky-yacht lacks prison facilities, and my friends lack
suitable training; I’m afraid that, if she stays with us, she will do so of
her own volition. In any case, I enclose two envelopes; you may write to her
as well as me, and urge her to do what you think best.

With apologies for any perplexities or expenses I have directly or indirectly
caused you, I remain, your hmbl srvt, Sythyry.

Perhaps I can behave morally and legally towards everyone concerned, even.

Lost-Eyes [17 Hispis 4385]

Kantele:“In summary, Dorze is an escaped indenturee of your
friend and colleague Kzip La Hish in Oorah Thrassen.” Dorze said
nothing, but wagged his tail quietly. Kantele continued, “And of course
similar troubles come with Lost-Eyes.”

Lost-Eyes:“Much less trouble than Dorze! I am a free woman,
unencumbered by legal obligations.”

Kantele:“You are a wicked sort of free woman, if your concept of
‘trouble’ is merely ‘legal obligation’!”

Lithia:“Kantele! That’s not fair and you know it.”

Kantele:“Bons mots aside, Lost-Eyes is, if anything, more
troublesome to have aboard than Dorze. Lost-Eyes, please be so kind as to
explain your ancestry?”

Lost-Eyes:“I am ultimately the descendant of forty-eight Orren
from Inihithre. They had several hundred names among them, and I can’t
quote them all.”

Me:“That is not particularly specific. Every Orren now living can
say the same.”

Inconnu:“Not exactly! My mother’s girlfriend knows all the
names of the first-created Orren.”

Lost-Eyes:“I am therefore less unusual than Inconnu’s mother’s
girlfriend, and even less likely to be troublesome.”

Kantele:“Your parentage, wicked girl!”

Lost-Eyes:“Oh, just an Orren couple in Oorah Thrassen.”

Kantele:“The male of that couple being Nangbang, until recently
the chieftan of the ecclesiastical störmgething of the Temple of the
Dark Trinity in Oorah Thrassen. And, incidentally, he served as High
Priest in your so-very-eventful consecration not long ago. That is the
man whose daughter has stowed away on your skyboat.”

Me:“Lost-Eyes? Has Kantele explained the matter
properly?”

Lost-Eyes:“Not a bit! She didn’t explain that I am
the adult daughter of Nangbang — I have been officially adult
for weeks now.”

Kantele:“An impressive claim of maturity, to be sure. One
wonders what sort of amazing displays of rationality and sensibility you
will exhibit when you are months past that miraculous date. Still
… where do you live?”

Lost-Eyes:“Nowhere. I’m running away from home.”

Lithia:“She got you on that one, Kantele!”

Kantele:“She did indeed, and she evaded the question.
Where did you live before you ran away?”

Lost-Eyes:“Well, that was mostly with my parents.”

Kantele:“So, these two stowaways are closely associated with two
mighty wizards and priests of Oorah Thrassen.”

Lithia:“Only one of each!”

Kantele:“In any case, with more mighty priests and wizards than
are present on Strayway. Thus they bring to us trouble in
generous baskets spilling over!”

Grinwipey:“Well, tell ‘em to put it in the larder with all the
other trouble we brought.”

Me:“They do bring us a good deal of trouble. Dorze, Lost-Eyes,
can you tell me how you got onto my skyboat?”

Love Story

Lost-Eyes:“We’ve been in love forever! Years and
years!”

Dorze:“I don’t think that’s forever to a Zi Ri.”

Me:“It’s close enough at your age though. Pray go on.”

Lost-Eyes:“My parents were scandalized. They’re very proper and
formal Orren. They want to be important; they want everything done right.
Well, I’m wrong and Dorze is wrong, but we want to love and live
together anyhow.”

Kantele:“You certainly know the right word of ‘wrong’ to catch
Sythyry’s attention. That sounds contrived to me, as if you know zir
history.”

Lost-Eyes:“If it please you, we do know something about
zir history, about Castle Wrong and all. If we’d been in Vheshrame, we’d
have moved in there, sure as death.”

Kantele:“If we’d allowed you!”

Me:“We’re not that picky. We let Inconnu in, after
all.”

Inconnu:“Hey! Chirp!”

Me:“Please continue, O stowaways.”

Lost-Eyes:“We asked Sazandigraa for help. Zie is known to be
somewhat sympathetic to such matters, and zie is not particularly afraid
of La Hish or Papa. Zie told us to wait a few months — this was a few
months ago — and to ask you for asylum when you came to visit.”

Me:“A sensible plan, which you are about to get around
to?”

Dorze: [with much tail-wagging] “Yes, please. We are a pair of
traff lovers, fleeing an unjust situation in Oorah Thrassen. May we
please place ourselves under your protection?”

Me:“May you please explain, before I decide, how you came to stow
away on my skyboat?”

Lost-Eyes:“Sazandigraa was supposed to introduce us. We’d made
arrangements with zir on the eighth of Hispis. Zie didn’t want to do it
then, though.”

Grinwipey:“Well, ain’t that a Reluu-rumping
surprise!” (No, it is not. Grinwipey had just blackmailed Saza, and
I am not surprised that Saza was in no mood to help the couple.)

Dorze:“Zir secretary put us off a couple of days. It was a better
idea to take asylum right as you left, anyhow.”

Lithia:“But you’d done that big consecration, and you were
asleep, and we couldn’t wake you up.”

Me:“Fair enough.”

Lithia:“So we talked it over, and decided to let them on board.
We thought you’d approve of them, anyhow. Half the people on board are
your clients under about those terms.”

Me:“Yes, and I insisted on interviewing everyone who came to
Castle Wrong before they moved in, too.”

Lithia:“They’re not exactly moving in. They’re just
getting passage to Srineia.”

Me:“Why are you going to Srineia? It’s not particularly a good
place for traff couples. You’d be better off going to
Vheshrame.”

Dorze:“We need to be out of range of Kzip’s spells and Nangbang’s
influence. Srineia is better.”

Me:“Fair enough. Lithia, why didn’t you check with me when
I did wake up?”

Lithia:“You spent the whole day breaking Vae’s helpfulness, and
then went back to bed. Then we were going to, but we got that call
for help from that inistella.”

Me:“Why not this morning, then?”

Lithia:“Well, we’re out of spell-range now, and it’s not much
longer to Srineia. It didn’t seem that important to bother you
for just a couple days’ passage.”

Me:“I see. Any other surprises?”

Everyone, eventually:“Not that we are willing to admit at the
moment.”

Quandary

And now I am sitting in a fireplace, thoroughly annoyed at everyone except
loyal Phaniet, trying to figure out what to do.

Sythyry the Shipmaster: The custom among shipmasters and sky pilots is
not to tolerate stowaways. Particularly obnoxious ones can simply be tossed
overboard, with a spell to help them survive the landing unless they are
unlucky if you are feeling kind. Ordinary ones are to be let out at the next
port of call. This is an important custom, according to my guild training. If
stowaways are treated with no unnecessary kindness, fewer people will be
inclined to stow away.

Also, I am rather annoyed with Saza and Lithia for taking such a troublesome
liberty with me. Saza, I suppose, may feel that it is a fair exchange for
the pile of trouble I gave zir. Lithia should know better.

Sythyry the Traff: They’re not the first wrong-matched people to show
up on my door and ask for my help. (Of course, usually such people
stop at the door until I invite them in.) If they had started out
politely, I daresay I might well have helped them out … maybe; see the next
paragraph for the troubles. And they did try a couple times to be polite
before they decided to stow away.

Sythyry the Wizard: I’m going to be dealing with Kzip and Nangbang for
a long while. Kzip is presumably as immortal as I am. Nangbang may or may not
be; I don’t know. Starting out my relationship with them with
“I removed your indentured servant and your daughter from your city so that
they could indulge their unnatural lusts without your masterful and parental
attentions” is unlikely to lead to a comfortable, friendly relationship in
any sort of near term.

Sythyry the Reasonable Person: I certainly owe Nangbang gratitude, if
nothing else, for his help with Accanax. I imagine he is not terribly
delighted at his daughter’s vanishment. Returning her to him would be an act
of kindness to a person whom I sort of owe such an act to. Kzip’s claim on
Dorze is a widely-recognized legal claim, and any reasonable person
would feel some obligation to return him, too.

Sythyry on Vacation: I don’t feel like flying back up to Ketheria at
this point. We’re quite far from it. I suppose I could put Dorze and
Lost-Eyes on a skyboat headed back up. Which would mean paying their passage
out of my own accounts; they certainly didn’t bring enough money for it.
And I’d have no particular assurance that they’d stay on that skyboat.

Sythyry with the Pet Nendrai: If I were truly annoyed, I would
introduce them to Vae and ask her to help them out. I can’t imagine what she
might do. I’m sure it would be devastating. I’m nearly that annoyed with the
stowaways, but I don’t think I want to be as random as Vae would be.

I will do what I will do, of course. I’ve mostly made up my mind. But what’s
your advice?

 and I have a fun new project: the Crowdsource Tarot.  Please zoop over there and contribute a word to our poll!

Sythyry does an internet meme

Digression: On the Proper Punishment of Disobedient Indentured
Servants

Rowyn asks an aggressive question:

Let’s say that Kantele, after completing her education but some decades
before finishing her indenture, did something you found wholly unsuitable,
like fall in love with a norren. She then desired to leave your service so
she could pursue a relationship with her chosen norren. How would you
react?

Shurhaian modifies it:
Falling in love with a nonprime is a bit much to put into a hypothetical situation, no? o.o

(Falling in love with an orren Sythyry zirself was interested in, seemingly
mutually, now… and making plans to take said orren somewhere far
away…)

And it’s an interesting and vaguely relevant question, with a complicated
answer, so I’m going to answer it here, at length, and Rowyn and Shurhaian
will Learn What It Is To Ask An Aggressive Question To A Zi Ri.

Actually, there are three sorts of answers. There’s the answers
about me, a rather mild traff Zi Ri. There’s the answers about how a
stereotypical (non-Zi-Ri) irascible wizard — let us call her Flip La Lich –
is likely to behave. And there’s the answers about how a stereotypical Cani
nobleman — let us call him Count Pointer-Count — is likely to behave. (Of
course these cases overlap: La Lich is probably rich and influential enough to
do nearly anything that Pointer-Count can do, and Pointer-Count could hire La
Lich or someone like that if he was sufficiently motivated.)

My answer to Rowyn’s question as posed: I’m relatively not fussy about
arrangements. Kantele leaving would have been somewhat of an inconvenience,
since my previous secretary was retiring and I was counting on Kantele as his
replacement, and, if she had left, I would have needed a replacement
replacement. (Umbers leaving would not be a particular inconvenience, and
Blenny leaving would, honestly, be a convenience.) If Kantele had the
politeness to ask me, “Sythyry, I’m in love with Hark!, and I need to
move out of the city to be with her”, I imagine I would complain a while, try
and fail to talk her out of such a stupid stupid thing, and then figure out
some sort of arrangement to let her do it and to at least pay me back for the
money I had invested in her education. (Which was a lot! Tuition, and an
allowance somewhat bigger than my ~mother~ gave me when I was in school — I
wanted Kantele to learn how to dress and act like gentry, and of course I
wanted her to have a good time and regard me as a generous patron. Which she
did, and she did.)

If Kantele had had the poor grace to simply elope with Hark! rather than
negotiating something, there are a few things I might have done. (None of my
indentures have quite done that. People usually take advantage of me in other
ways, like Pleensy “borrowing” two graces of Mircannis.) But things that I,
myself, might do include:

1. Complaining about her until my friends and clients were totally bored of
   the topic, or, if I were particularly interesting about it, until they had
   lost all respect for her. This is a particularly useful option if she has
   gotten beyond my reach, or if further revenge does not seem worthwhile. I’ve
   done this twice about indenture-related topics, and innumerable other times.
2. Taking legal action, if Kantele were still in the same city-state: suing her
   for breach of contract. This would, if all went alarmingly well, turn back
   into negotiations about how she might repay me. Probably worse for her than
   any negotiations with me would be,
   and she’d probably have to pay all the legal fees. I’ve done this once. It
   was quite a hassle, even after I won.
3. If I were particularly unhappy and didn’t see any great likelihood of the
   law working, I might arrange for, many times a day, Kantele to be
   illuminated by flashes of orange light and crashes of cymbals, as a loud
   voice from nowhere pronounces her misdeeds in orotund syllables. This will
   make her life generally awkward. I have done this, once, though to someone
   who assaulted me with a weapon, not a matter of indentures.
4. I might do something wizard-style or nobleman-style, especially if
   Kantele had gone far away and been particularly insulting about it.
5. Grumble unhappily and vow to outlive the situation. An increasingly
   attractive response when I’m feeling more disheartened than angry.
6. (I would not get Vae involved. I would try not to mention the
   matter to her until it was over. She’s far too likely to do something
   extreme and illegal.)

(Aside about me: I think I would be more offended if Kantele were betraying me
to take up with another Rassimel. I am much more tolerant of wrongfolk
behaving badly than I am of wrongfolk ceasing to be wrong. I expect I’d be
more cross if Kantele stole my lover, of course; what do you expect? (Though
that would be extremely difficult now. Note to self: take steps to make it easier.))

Flip La Lich, our stereotypical irascible wizard, has a few other choices at
the top of her list — as long as Kantele hasn’t gotten too far away. For, if
Kantele lived in La Lich’s manse, there are surely arcane connections to her
that can be found: shed fur, worn clothes, an old toothbrush, a note with her
signature on it. Through these, La Lich can cast a variety of punative
spells.

First of all, note that La Lich can’t legally kill or maim Kantele. If
Kantele is outside the city-state, La Lich might choose to kill her and most
likely will never face criminal charges — but I think the querents were
mostly interested in what is lawful and customary, not what is possible.

So, some spells of torment that are fashionable at the moment include:

1. Dottarnu’s Labiodental Sphincter: This causes the victim’s jaws to
   snap shut, generally when the tongue will be caught in the teeth. They
   remain shut for an hour or two. They are free for a few moments only,
   (allowing the victim to eat if he’s quick about it) and then snap shut again.
   The standard version of this spell lasts for several weeks, though there’s a
   version that lasts indefinitely. Victims are quite miserable.
2. The Prolongation of the Distal Phalanx: This spell makes the final
   bones in the victim’s fingers grow longer. The flesh does not grow with the
   bones. After a few hours, the phalanxes pierce through the victim’s
   fingertips. They continue to grow for as long as the spell is in effect; the
   victim’s hands are largely unusable. The phalanxes can, of course, be cut
   off, but that will leave them cut off when the spell is over and the bones
   return to normal.
3. A Personal Picnic: The aspect of a picnic that this spell induces
   is the insectile one. Ants stream forth from each of the victim’s orifices.
   They behave like ordinary ants; e.g., they will swarm over the
   victim’s food, and will try to drag crumbs and dead insects back into the
   victim’s nose and ears. If an ant is squashed, the victim feels the pain
   that the ant feels as it dies.
4. Certain wizards do rather crueler things with Mentador, but that is cruel
   and vicious and likely to cause the wizard more trouble later on.

Short-term versions of these are legal for use on indentured servants at the
master’s discretion … well, the first and third anyways. I’m not sure about
the Prolongation, since that actually draws blood. In the case of an
escaped indentured servant, “short-term” may be construed as weeks. In the
case of one who has fled to another city-state, it may even be perpetual. The
victim can, of course, come back home to plead her case in court, but (1) that
amounts to a return to servitude, and (2) the court will probably order the
wizard to turn the spell off, nothing more.

Count Pointer-Count, our stereotypical Cani nobleman (probably liver,
lemon, or black-furred), has a different set of
easy options. His spells are not so mighty — though hiring La Lich to cast
spells is entirely possible, if he is angry enough. Most wealthy and powerful
people employ a few adventurers or guards; if not, they can hire them easily
enough. These people can be sent off to bring the forces of law, custom,
justice, and ferocity to the escapee. This has the advantage over the
wizardly approach of being, in effect, unlimited of range. It is somewhat
less accurate.

1. Returning the fugitive to justice: The best option, I think, is for
   the nobleman’s henchmen to return the escapee home, using no more force than
   strictly necessary. At home, the escapee can be put on trial. The law will
   be overwhelming on the nobleman’s side. The escapee can expect to be made
   responsible for all charges and incidental acts of destruction that result
   from the attempt to retrieve her.
2. Immediate revenge: If justice is difficult, or does not satisfy the
   nobleman, the guards can be instructed to perform their own approximation of
   justice. Harsh beatings, or even minor maimings (severing the ears and
   tail, say) would be typical here. Outright murder is not utterly
   unheard-of. This option is more troublesome than justice. For one thing,
   it makes the nobleman look unjust. For another, henchmen who are willing to
   maim or murder are fewer in number and inherently less reliable than those
   who are willing to achieve justice.

On the whole, law and custom favor harsh treatment of indentured servants who
try to break their contracts. Not as harsh as for slave — slavery is
generally punishment for some prior and severe crime, and law and
custom really don’t like that punishment being evaded. But harsher than
for other forms of service, or other contracts. In general, indentures permit
the master plenty of flexibility in punishment. Ridiculous as it may sound in
my case, I’m legally allowed to hit Umbers as hard as I like, as much as seems
appropriate to me, as long as I don’t break her carapace or any other
significant injury (or, because it’s in her contract, unless it can be
construed as an act of concubinage).

In any case, all these punishments rely on the escapee being fairly close. Should
the escapee manage to get a couple hundred miles away — e.g., by
stowing away aboard someone else’s well-guarded skyboat — the master’s
options are limited and expensive.

Now, aren’t you sorry you asked the question? Or, at least, aren’t you sorry
someone asked the question?

Stowaways [17 Hispis 3285]

Which lead, inevitably, to interrupting my discussion of enchantment plans
with Phaniet, sitting on the emo couch in the library.

Kantele:“Sythyry, I regret to inform you that your stepdaughter
has been conspiring against you.”

Grinwipey:“Sythyry, I regret to inform you that your secretary is
a blunkwad who shunders profligate prebs in her spare time. Under the
sickens and wipes!”

Me:“I don’t understand either of you. Actually, I think I have a
better idea of what Grinwipey means than Kantele, which is pretty alarming.”

Kantele:“I think the perpetrators had better explain
themselves!”

Yerenthax, fierce in her bloodstained pink armor, shoved two youths forward: a
Cani boy with golden retriever styling and an Orren girl with bright, bright
eyes, both dressed after the fashion of the skybridge cities.

Me:“Who are those?”

Dorze:“I’m Dorze.” He curtsied and wagged his tail
politely and looked generally apologetic.

Lost-Eyes:“And I’m Lost-Eyes.” She curtsied too, but looked
defiant.

Kantele:“They should be tossed out of Strayway. With
bound Heal the Awful Wound spells so they don’t stay dead when they
land.” She was snarling in a way that one does not usually associate
with social secretaries in their nineties.

Me:“Why? What are they doing on Strayway in the first
place? I didn’t invite them.”

Kantele:“Exactly. You did not invite them. They are stowaways!
They must be sent on their way as quickly as possible!”

Lost-Eyes:“We’re not stowaways! The Zi Ri wizard said it was all
right!”

Me:“I did?” As the only Zi Ri and the only wizard on board,
I was understandably confused.

Lost-Eyes:“No! The other one! Sazandigraa!”

Me:“Why is my ever-so-generous cousin sending stowaways onto my
skyboat?”

Kantele:“Lithia and Grinwipey and Windigar and Inconnu did
it!”

Grinwipey:“Don’t get your tail stuck down Shax Shay Shaz’
wax-way-waz, Kantele!”

Me:“Now I am hopelessly confused.”

But the explanation was very simple.

And by “Very Simple” I mean…

Everybody:talk talk talk interrupt talk exclaim talk proclaim
talk yell TALK!

Me:“Perhaps, um, Dorze could explain himself?” After
somewhere between 7+12 and 7¹² variations on that request, he
was permitted to do so, or close enough.

Dorze: something about how Lithia and Sazandigraa …

Me:“Maybe start by telling me who you are, aside from being a
Cani boy name Dorze, and, from the beginning, how you came to be asking
Lithia and Sazandigraa for passage on Strayway?”

Dorze:“From the very beginning, if it pleases you, m’lord. My
family was never well-off. My mother and father and some others died in a
house fire when I was nine. Who was left was only one uncle, but he’d
gotten the kids out, so he had seven of us. He couldn’t take care of us
all, so he sold some of us off. He sold me to Kzip La Hish.”

Lithia:“And that’s bad enough! We should be helping him get
free!”

Kantele:“You will rescue Dorze, but you will not rescue
Blenny?”

Lithia:“What?”

Kantele:“Blenny is indentured to Sythyry. For that matter, your
mother was indentured to zir, too, before you were born.”

Me:“And Este is, and Umbers, and … what did we decide
about Arfaen?”

Kantele:“No, Este has been free for two years. And I have been
free for forty-two. Arfaen is not indentured at this point. She may take a
contract when we get back to Vheshrame, if Sythyry needs better legal
standing to keep Quendry with us.”

Lithia:“That’s different. That’s just a legal maneuver.”

Me:“Rather in the same way that a contract of marriage or
apprenticeship is a legal maneuver. Anyhow, Dorze? Pray continue.”

Dorze:“Well, Lost-Eyes and I knew each other a lot, her mother
and La Hish work together a lot, and Lost-Eyes was over a great deal. We
… well …”

Lithia:“They fell in love, mother, despite being different
species. Just what Castle Wrong and Strayway are all
about, in case you had forgotten.”

(I haven’t actually forgotten. And I’m not actually her mother, she just
calls me that when she wants me to be responsible for her or some such.

Dorze:“Yes, we fell in love. La Hish didn’t approve at all, she
forbade me to see her any more.”

Me:“Just out of curiosity — and out of knowing how much legal
trouble Lithia has gotten herself into — what sort of provisions did you
have for breaking your contract?”

Dorze:“A year’s notice, plus repayment of whatever she had spent
on me.”

Lost-Eyes:“That was a lot! She had set him to work as a
spell-scribe, copying spells into little wooden boxes.
She’d bought him a pile of spells for him — he owes her for all of them!”

I suppose that’s fair. After all, he does own the spells (and it is
physically impossible for him to give them back), and when he has bought off
his indenture, he’ll be able to go into business as a spell-scribe on his own
with them.

Kantele:“How much is she charging you for them? Retail price, or
what?”

Me:“Kantele, are you being sympathetic to his cause now?”

Kantele:“No, but I do want to know the details.”

Dorze:“I don’t know. I’ve never bought a spell in a
shop.”

Me:“Well, tell me the last couple spells, and how much she
charged you.”

Dorze:“There’s Tapestry of Rippling Splendor for seven
thousand lozens, and Magic Resistance of Iron for seventeen.”

Me:“That’s less than retail price, at least. It’s rather high
for spell-scribe rates. How much do you get paid for each copy?”

Dorze:“Two percent.”

Me:“How does that compare to free spell-scribes?”

(Nobody knew, so we asked Zascalle, who said that ordinary non-indentured
spell-scribes in the employ of a typical wizard get, by age-old custom, 43%.
But wizards — or other businessmen — who do a lot of business in selling
spells prefer indentured scribes. The wizards have to invest a goodly amount
of money or time in each spell the scribes can write. A scribe can, in
principle, learn a spell, and then decamp and set up a shop stall in another
city selling it, and the investor’s recourses are quite limited. Indentured
scribes have more trouble escaping without paying their debts — if only
because foreign cities are likely to pay attention to indenture contracts.)

Lost-Eyes:“So you see, La Hish was a terrible, terrible
mistress!”

Me:“She was rather exploitative. I’ve certainly known
worse.”

Lost-Eyes:“Well, Dorze started last year with five years left in
his indenture if he worked as hard as he could, and ended the year with
eight left!”

Kantele:“I’ve certainly known worse too.”

Me:“Truly! Kantele’s indenture ended forty-two years ago, and
she still hasn’t figured out that she can leave me.”

Dorze: [Loyally, because he's a Cani] “Well, I did
complain about it and she did promise to stop having me buy spells.
The eight years is still about right.”

Lost-Eyes:“And you trust her to keep her word? You could take her
to court if she doens’t, but what’ll they say — ‘You signed the contract
(or your uncle did for you), and she’s being lawful and treating you well,
so you live with it. The law’s not on your side when you’re
indentured.”

Lithia:“It’s not! There’s nothing fair about it!”

At about that point I noticed that Lithia was actually in Rassimel phase, but
wearing an illusion that she was Orren. She doesn’t usually do that.

Some Indentures

And, for your reference and mine, here are some details of three contracts
from Castle Wrong, prepared by Kantele for the purpose. Plus Dorze’s contract.

Topic	Blenny	Umbers	Kantele	Dorze
Reason	Abandoned, crippled child who couldn’t take care of herself. Under a moderate amount of Ducal pressure, I agreed to accept her into my household.	Umbers left her native village and came to Vheshrame as a peniless, naive country bug. She quickly fell in with the worst that Vheshrame has to offer, including some relatives of Grinwipey, and found herself working jobs lacking in legal, moral, or financial value. When she escaped, she asked to be indentured to place herself firmly under my legal, moral, and financial protection.	When Kantele defied her parents as an adolescent, she was tossed onto the street with only the clothes on her back — and those clothes scorched from an angry maternal Fire Flower. She took refuge in the early Castle Wrong. We discussed a number of options, including living at Castle Wrong the way most of the residents do. She decided that she’d take the one with the most value to her: getting an education, and paying for it by her indenture.	Sold for his own support, by his uncle.
Duration	Until terminated by mutual agreement. (Note that I can’t simply evict her or toss her on the street. An abusive indenture-holder who was trying to get rid of her could make her miserable to force that agreement. Castle Wrong puts up with worse than Blenny, though.)	12 years: a typical term. After which, we hope Umbers no longers needs protection.	30 years. A very long term, but Kantele wanted (and got) a very expensive education and had no better way to pay for it.	Indefinite term at first. It was made definite a few years ago, as “Until his debt to La Hish is paid off.” Except that she can, in effect, order him to increase his debt.
Requirements on the indentured:	Serve me to the best of her abilities. Since her troubles are both physical and mental — she is not very smart, and she is stuck between land and water forms — this is mostly housecleaning. Which means she works about as hard as non-indentured people like Inconnu and Mellilot and Tingula: she’s at her duties several hours a day. She is rather in the gate district [Earth idiom: bottom of the totem pole] and probably gets assigned more latrine-scrubbing than the others. That’s probably because she can’t complain as effectively as the others, not because she’s not free.	Serve me to the best of her abilities, with certain exclusions that she asked for and I was happy to accept. Umbers mostly helps take care of the children, on Strayway. Not as much as the parents — Arfaen is a particularly attentive mother — but quite a bit.	Be an assistant to my then-secretary by way of apprenticeship, and to take over as my secretary proper when my then-secretary became my then-not-a-secretary-anymore.	General obedience and working in her scribery.
Requirements on the indenturer:	Provide suitable (“and generous” in the words of the standard contract that we used) food, shelter, clothing, education, entertainment, spending money, and so forth. According to Zascalle, Blenny costs about half again as much as a live-in servant would. She was quite hard to educate; we needed to hire a special tutor to teach her to read, and even now her arithmetic is rather more surprising than accurate. “And generous” is left by law entirely up to my interpretation. I have some idea of what the usual range for indentures like hers is, and I try to be in about the top sixth, but not actually the top. The bottom third or so doesn’t even seem suitable to me, much less generous.	Protection, plus room and board and clothing and spending money and such. I am specifically forbidden to employ her as a concubine or prostitute (I don’t), and she is specifically allowed to have five nights out of every nine free to spend in whatever bed she wishes (she does). I am, naturally, allowed by Vheshrame law and custom to exert myself rather more forcefully to protect my property than I am to protect my friends. I don’t much want to get into a fight with the Khtsoyis quarter of town — less so after seeing Grinwipey wipe my cousin’s grin off zir face — but we hoped that they would not want to get into a fight with me either. (And they mostly didn’t.)	Education, plus room and board and clothing and spending money and such. Not Vheshrame Academy, but she did have two years in a university in Daukrhame.	Providing suitable food, shelter, and so on. Dorze’s education was rather focussed on the few topics that make for a good spell-scribe. He can concentrate quite well; he has a great deal of cley. He’s not terribly good at magic himself: she found no particular reason to have him able to cast the spells he was copying.
Afterwards:	I expect Blenny to be my indentured servant as long as she lives, unless, by some miracle, she is able to take care of herself at some point and wants to.	No particular plans at this point. I don’t think Umbers will stay in Castle Wrong, somehow. Which is fine. Unlike Blenny, Umbers can take care of herself; unlike Kantele, I am not training Umbers for a job I particularly need filled.	At the end of her indenture, Kantele took a four-month vacation, and then came back to Castle Wrong to continue to be my secretary. We renegotiated her contract. I’m paying her a lot more now, plus room and board. Not clothing when we were in Vheshrame, but on Strayway I’m providing clothing for everyone. She gets lots more vacation time than when she was indentured, too.	Unclear.

Anyhow, indentures are one of the most formal legal and social instruments
available. They’re weaker than adoption, but stronger than simply hiring
someone. They place some obligations on the indenture holder, and,
potentially, lots of obligations on the indentured. They
aren’t exactly undignified, not quite like being a slave, but they
certainly aren’t dignified. And they’re risky for the indenturee: law, custom,
and balance of power favor the indenture holder. I am wimpy, and tend to
treat my indentured servants the same way I treat everyone else who lives at
Castle Wrong. This is not exactly unusual among indenture holders; but
neither is it unusual for indenture holders to want to get every terch of
value out of their contracts.

Moral Quandary of the Day [17 Hispis 3285]

The moral quandary of the day is not how to treat Vae. The
philosophers made a few suggestions. Vae absolutely refuses to the
suggestions which are hers to do — e.g., it would be very helpful if
she announced her presence with a display of miniature fireworks and the scent
of burning violins or something. With that, everyone would be constantly aware
of her presence, and would be careful to watch what they say. Vae rejected the
idea as undignified and immodest and humiliating. I am not quite sure why
someone who generally lounges around the yacht in the shape of a snake with
seven butterfly wings thinks this, but there you are.

She might, however, try to map the borders of her most unfortunate compulsion.
A brave, brave volunteer (Yerenthax?) will make increasingly importunate
requests for assistance, and we will learn just how much self-control Vae has
before being helpful. Perhaps, in time and with practice, Vae will be able to
increase her self-control. I expect to spend many days fixing our brave, brave
volunteer.

(After which, we sent the philosophers and their monsters on their way.
Grinwipey emphatically exclaimed at how they had cheated me, and how it would
be choons with glorzy jelly if he could cheat people so easily out of
so much.)

No, the actual moral problem is this.

We (and by ‘we’ I exclude myself) were at lunch in the galley, enjoying a very
fancy salad buffet made by Calla the night chef, who is, once again, compelled
to be diurnal. Calla had prepared a batch of herring croquettes for those who
need to eat meat.

Lithia:(Orren phase)“These are very good herring
croquettes.”

Thiane: (waitress of the meal) “I’ll be sure to tell our poor
kitchen-slave Calla that you said so.”

Lithia:“Inconnu?”

Inconnu: [Looking at Lithia with his mouth full of
croquette.] “Oh no, what, what?”

Lithia:“The croquettes are delicious. Also, they are filling,
being composed of herring, powdered biscuit, pureed turnip, butter, and
eggs, and then deep-fried. A few of them would be quite filling indeed,
especially for people who have been complaining about hunger
lately.”

Kantele:“Who on wood has been complaining about hunger lately?
Calla and Arfaen have been cooking constantly — to say nothing of
Mellilot, Thiane, Blenny, Inconnu, Tingula, Umbers, Zascalle, and the
boys. I imagine I’ll be begging Grinwipey for new clothes by the time we
get to Srineia, and that is not many more days.”

Lithia:“Never mind. They’re just excellent herring
croquettes.”

Inconnu:“Right! They are!” He emptied half the tray of
croquettes into his purse.

Kantele:“Inconnu! Are you the greedy glutton today, or
were you just been immersed up to your ears in the Astral Sea of Rudeness
as an infant? What on wood was that about?” (I do not know
about any such mystical realm as that.)

Inconnu:“NO! It’s not what you’re thinking!”

Kantele:“A remarkable utterance. Would you care to tell me what
I am thinking, as well as what the truth of the situation is?”

Lithia: [sighing] “Inconnu!”

Grinwipey:“Stinking little excuse for a skeef-wronching
butter-and-bread you are, Inconnu!”

Inconnu:“No!”

Kantele:“Oh, my. Grinwipey’s involved in whatever-this-is,
too. This can’t be good.”

Grinwipey:“It ain’t
stuffed-up-Mircannis’-yanabloonie bad either.”

Kantele:“You’d better tell me more.”

Grinwipey:“Aw, sure thing, old woman. Up in the Cathay row, the
lizard breath asked us, ‘Hey, these these foozers are all on the scuddery
vay, and they’re nearly ready to be vimpered and get the glootie, so go
ratch them, spango?’ So we’re like ‘Dotch, dotch, we’re rostic with the
mangeree baking in the skates-and-sled , and the old
limp-and-sink is coming with the cley.’ And got told back, ‘Razzers, but
the gin-dorms are full of gin, and the snapping’s coming up with
flattery!’ So we says, ‘Nah, the frain can dummel on the pancakes, we’re
not a delivery service, but maybe we are.’ So it’s no gnawing on anyone’s
fudd-whucker, see?”

Kantele:“In point of fact, I do not, as you so eloquently phrase
it, ‘see’.”

Lithia blinked at Grinwipey. “I was there too, I’ve been getting swearing
lessons from you, and I didn’t understand what you said.”

Grinwipey peered one eyestalk at her. “Cathay Row is Ketheria, see?
Skates-and-sled is from rhyming, you can figure that out.”

Kantele:“Lithia! Perhaps you would be so good as to explain the
situation.”

Lithia:“Um … can I talk to my stepmother? Zie’s probably going
to understand a bit better…”

Kantele:“Pleading with Sythyry for mercy already? What
trouble have you caused now?”

I’ll get back to the story soon, I promise.

In the meantime, a helpful non-LJ person has recommended
Twilight Times Books to me.
If you’d like to second the recommendation, or warn me against it,
please do!

(Sorry I can’t just add this to the poll in the previous entry,
but polls are not editable.)

I’m still looking for a small press for Wrath of Trees. (I am not
planning to look indefinitely; if I don’t find a suitable small press soon enough, I’ll take some other approach.) Here are the most promising ones I’ve turned
up.

1. Sofawolf, a reputable furry
   publisher. I don’t know the publishers myself, but we have many friends in
   common; and they’ve been around for years. (Disadvantage: Wrath of
   Trees is more “nonhuman alien” than “furry” per se. The main character
   has bark, not fur, and the animal aspects of characters are not strong.)
2. EDGE / Tesseract They seem to
   like some things I’m good at, like unique settings, alien life forms, and
   magic systems.
3. Swimming
   Kangaroo
4. Tyrannosaurus
   Press
5. Sense of Wonder Press
6. Gryphonwood
   Press
7. Echelon Press

So here’s a poll to make things easy. I’d appreciate comments if you have any
more details — or a private note if there’s something that shouldn’t be quite
so public.

And, thanks very much for helping me with this.

Chatting up the Inistella [15 Hispis 4385]

While I was busy not in the slightest degree seducing Bazamvey and Hark!,
Vae released the nycathath, but that was boring and unfriendly.
Windigar was out having a conversation with Doöaru.
I gather it went
something like this.

Doöaru:“Good morning! How are your passengers getting along
with my passengers?”

Windigar:“Less tense than at first, though I don’t imagine that
your problematical passengers are ever going to be very friendly with my
perverted passengers.”

The physical arrangements of the conversation are not so obvious. Wingidar
was sitting on one of Strayway‘s occasional balconies. Strayway
was sitting on one of Doöaru’s scales. Doöaru was not sitting; he
cannot sit. He was gliding slowly downwards, in the general direction of
Srineia — and in the general direction of most of the inhabitable universe, I
suppose. He had produced an Orren-sized illusion of himself on his back,
through which he could presumably see and hear.

Doöaru:“Perhaps my problematical passengers profess
portentious paradigms and pretend perfection? Perhaps your perverted
passengers prefer polyamorous performances and prominent
protrusions?”

Windigar:“You may be wrong, you may be right, but you are
certainl alliterative.”

Doöaru:“It’s natural for inistella. It comes from the fins,
you know.” The image wriggled the backs of its wings.

Windigar:“I didn’t know.”

Doöaru:“They are the alluring ailerons of
alliteration! Or so the females of my kind tell me.”

Windigar:“Oh? What are the courtship habits of inistella like?
We who dwell largely upon the land — and weakly in the water! — are
unaware of such aerial attractions.” He can do it too. I presume
this is because master-pilots are taught about vessels with sails and
those without.

Doöaru:“Well, in the Month of Moveable Marriage — Trandary,
you call it — in each Year of the Yum — as we term years which, when
divided by fourteen, have a remainder of three — we gather in an inverted
vortex over Vulturia. We hold dirigible dances and poetic promenades.
At the end of the month, each individual inistella must mark a mate, pick
a partner, select a spouse. Afterwards, we indulge our inclinations for
copulation, procreation, dissimulation, aggravation, elevation,
desparation, destination, and disintegration for seven years. Then comes
divorce and a certain while of solitary exploration.”

Windigar:“Isn’t the current year 313 x 14 + 3?”

Doöaru:“Is it? Oh! It is!”

Windigar:“And the current month is Hispis, so your Vulturian
vortex vows should have evolved about two weeks ago…”

Doöaru:“Alas! Arithmetic gives me the lie!
Perhaps you could tell me some lies about the
courtship habits of the Orren, and then we’ll call it even?”
[OOC note: I didn't intend the current year to be the Year of the Yum;
I can't divide 4385 by 14 in my head. Oops! -bb]

Windigar:“Well, it is our invariable custom to concern a
Cani to gingerly introduce us to a Gormoror who will happily point out a
Herethroy who will cautiously indicate which Khtsoyis who will recommend a
Rassimel who will select a Sleeth to zero in on a Zi Ri who will find a
spouse for us.”
(In case any reading monsters are uncertain, this is not how it is
done.)

Doöaru:“A complicated arrangement!”

Windigar:“But very prime. That’s why I’m working for Sythyry –
zie’s the last link in the chain. When we return to Vheshrame, I shall
have my necessary and nifty nuptuals!”

Doöaru:“How charming!”

Windigar:“Charming indeed, and indescribably romantic.
Unfortunately it’s not true: I have no guarantee that Sythyry, or anyone,
will find a spouse for me. And the Strayway is not the best
place to seek one: the Orren here all prefer Rassimel or
Herethroy.”

Doöaru:“Alas indeed! I share your trepidation about
marital prospects; women seem to prefer clippers or trefoils.”

And the conversation continued in mutual sympathy.