I Read What?!

So last time, Micum was a terminator, as he powered through getting an arrow through the torso. But now he's wandered off, presumably to walk off more terrible injuries until he turns up again.

Our heroes, on the other hand, have their own voyage to make, care of the mysterious "Lady Gwethelyn."



We get a new point of view character for this chapter, "Captain Rhal" of the Darter. He starts off pretty strong already:

"That’s a warm-lookin’ wench, even if she is a bit past her prime, eh, Captain Rhal?” the helmsman remarked.

The Darter’s triangular sail was bellied out in the brisk wind, and Rhal moved to the rail for a better view of his passenger, still seated in the prow.

The captain was a stocky, dark-haired man of middling years. Though somewhat balding, he was still comely enough in a rakish, weather-beaten sort of way to attract the graces of a good many women in a good many ports—a fact he was glad to capitalize on.

“That she is. I’ve always fancied a trim-cut wench,” he agreed, discounting Skywake’s appraisal of her age; coming from him that meant anything over the age of fourteen. Though the lady in question was clearly past the first blush of youth, she was no beldam. Perhaps twenty-five?

...though I'm taking points off for the fact that he seems fine working with a pedophile. Between this and the merchant who apparently tried to buy Alec when he was a kid, I'm starting to side-eye the country of Skala.

Anyway, it's basically love at first sight for the good Captain:

Studying her in the morning light, Rhal found no cause to alter his first assessment. Her carefully draped wimple framed a demure, fine-boned face. Under her mantle she wore a high-necked traveling gown that showed to advantage a slender waist and gently rounded bosom. She might be a bit thin through the hips for some, but as he’d remarked to Skywake, he liked his women trim. The chill wind off the water had brought out the roses in her pale cheeks, and her wide grey eyes seemed to sparkle as she leaned toward her traveling companion to point out some detail on the distant bank. Perhaps she was closer to twenty?

We learn a bit more about the Captain's enterprise. He usually ships cargo: furs and spices, but a few years back, he'd added an extra cabin below deck and now ferries passengers up and down the river. This particular fare came from an old servant woman who extoled her mistress's beauty and frailty.

Hm, I feel like I remember something about a serving woman's outfit last chapter? Weird. Anyway, Lady Gwethelyn has a young squire, "scarcely more than a raw boy for all his livery and sword." She also doesn't seem to have nearly enough baggage or women servants. It's a mystery!

Our scene shifts then to a pensive Seregil. He is, of course, wearing a dress. Because "Lady Gwethelyn" doesn't actually exist. Apparently he's had some really nasty dreams the night before, featuring a dead Micum, a naked Alec in his bed (I'm Watching You), and Seregil's very disapproving father.

“Well, Seregil, this is a pretty state I find you in.”

“Father, this isn’t how it appears,” Seregil replied, hating the pleading note he heard in his own voice—the very echo of a past self who’d uttered these same words in a situation not unlike the present one—but powerless to sound otherwise. But his older self was also uneasily aware of his empty weapon hand.

“It appears that you have a dead friend on your floor and a catamite in your bed.” His father’s voice was just as he remembered: dry, sardonic, full of calculated disapprobation.

“That’s only Alec—” Seregil began angrily, but the words died in his throat as the boy rose naked from the bed with a wanton grace completely unlike his usual manner. Coming to Seregil, he pressed warmly against him and exchanged an arch glance with his father.

“Your choice of companions has not improved.”

Hey, fuck off, dream dad.

Dad says that exile has only strengthened Seregil's baser tendencies, and well, yeah. It would, wouldn't it? You don't get good examples for behavior if you're kicked out. Things get a little warmer though:

Then, with that rare gentleness that had always taken Seregil off guard, he shook his head and sighed. “Seregil, my youngest, what am I to do with you? It has been so long! Let us at least clasp hands.”

Seregil's about to do it before he realizes that his father's dead. Someone named Adziel had sent word. Things get creepier now;

His father nodded agreeably, pushing back his hood. A few strands of dark hair clung to the shriveled scalp. The sharp grey eyes were gone, leaving two black craters in their place; the bridge of his nose was eaten away. Shriveled lips twisted into the parody of a smile as he inclined his ruined face, engulfing Seregil in a sullen, mouldy odor.

This sequence is quite good. Great, awful imagery. And there's a lot said and unsaid about Seregil's relationship to his family. Anyway, fortunately, Seregil woke up after that.

So Seregil's a bit lost in thought, only to be interrupted by his erstwhile suitor's concern. Captain Rhal leads "Lady Gwethelyn" to a nice bench, while an annoyed Alec follows.

“That boy keeps a close watch on you,” Rhal observed, seating himself next to “Gwethelyn” rather more closely than the span of the bench required.

“Ciris is a kinsman of my husband’s,” Seregil replied. “My husband has entrusted him with my safety. He takes his task very seriously.”

Captain Rhal has some doubts about "Ciris's" fighting ability, but Seregil lies and says he's a fine swordsman. There's some flirting but Seregil pretends weariness and heads below to rest.

Later, he and Alec discuss Captain Rhal's crush, and it's pretty amusing:

“What are you going to do?”

Seregil winked. “Go along with him, of course. Up to a point, anyway.”

“Well, you could hardly let him, you know—” Alec gestured vaguely.

“Yes, I know, though I rather wonder if you do.” Seregil raised an appraising eyebrow at his young companion. “But you’re right, of course. Letting him under my skirts now would certainly spoil the illusion I’ve worked so hard to create. Still”—dropping into the manner of Lady Gwethelyn, he looked up at Alec through his lashes—”this Captain Rhal is a handsome rogue, wouldn’t you say?”

So Alec helps him get ready for bed. We learn a bit about how the disguise works: there's a false bosom made of a close fitting linen undershirt with domed pockets stuffed with balls of soft wood. Apparently it's Seregil's own creation. He keeps his cosmetics on, figuring that a man who'll so blatantly hit on a married woman on a first day would possibly find a reason to come into the cabin.

Alec would feel better with Micum around. But apparently, despite his amusement, Micum's not completely comfortable with this.

“Micum hates working with me when I go as a woman. Says I’m ‘too damned pretty by half’ and it makes him nervous.”

“I can understand that,” Alec replied with a self-conscious grin. “Lady Gwethelyn” sounded a troubling chord in him, as well. Seregil’s convincing illusion stirred up a confusion that Alec hadn’t the philosophy to put into words.

Hmm. Is the feeling "no homo?" Or is it something else?

Seregil hides a knife under his pillow and brings up a Plenimarian custom: apparently those women are expected to kill themselves if stranger invades their bedroom, to protect their husband's honor. Seregil disagrees with that idea.

We get a bit more info abotu Plenimar. Seregil's only been in the outskirts because foreigners are very noticed and not terribly welcome. Spies don't last long.

But not long after that, there's a knock at the door. Seregil was right: it's Captain Rhal. He "brought some tea to help [her] sleep." Alec intercepts, taking the tea and preventing entrance. Effectively cockblocked, the Captain leaves. Seregil is very amused.

It's lesson time again. This time with tea. Alec is curious about Skala now and their warrior queens.

Seregil tells him and us about Gherilain the First. There should be an umlaut there, but I'm lazy and not going to do it. Anyway, apparently her father had been king and there was a nasty war. He went to an Oracle who told him that as long as a daughter of his line defends and rules, Skala will never be subjugated.

So the king declares his daughter queen and she rocks in battle. Eventually she gets poisoned by her brother, who takes the throne and tries to claim that the prophecy only meant THE daughter of Thelatimos, not a daughter of his line. But there was crop failure and plague, and he died and was replaced by his niece. Things swiftly improved.

Alec asks what happens if there are no daughters? Apparently that's happened a few times. One lady who just had sons went to the Oracle who told her to take a new consort. Since then many queens have liberally interpreted that directive. The current queen's grandmother had THIRTY "consorts", but even Skalans thought that was eccentric.

How did she SLEEP?

Anyway, Alec asks about legitimacy, though the way he asks the question is revealing:

“How could a queen produce legitimate heirs if she slept with any man who took her fancy?” Alec exclaimed, looking scandalized.

“What does legitimate mean, after all?” Seregil said with a laugh. “A king may be cuckolded if his wife can fool him into thinking that her lover’s child is his own, not a difficult thing to do. But any child a queen bears is her own, no matter who the father was, and therefore a legitimate heir.”

Alec sounds like a scandalized puritan, which he is, kind of. At least for now. But he's got a point. In most real world kingdoms, legitimacy is a very real concern. That's why Henry the VIII could have a shit ton of publicly acknowledged mistresses but Katherine Howard was beheaded.

Skala's different though. For one, matriarchy. Since the women have power in their own right, not through fathers or brothers or uncles, paternity is less important. It makes sense.

Alec asks if there have been bad queens. And yes, the usual mix over the years. They might be divinely instituted, but they're human. We get another interesting tidbit about Skalan society:

Alec shook his head, grinning. “All these stories and histories. I don’t see how you remember all that!”

“One has to, to do any sort of business among the Skalan nobles. Importance is judged by which branch of the line one is related to, how far back you can trace noble blood, which consort one is descended from, whether your ancestor was directly descended from a female or male branch, whether or not they were legitimate—I could go on, but you get the idea.”

But it's time to turn in. They've got a busy day ahead seducing/avoiding the Captain and defending Seregil's honor. The chapter ends here.