“I'm the wrong person for this job aren't I? She's basically my own mother and you know, I love my mother, but she isn't always the easiest person in the world. That has to be in her field pattern too, because Lara is exactly the same! Only worse. Frustrating old bat. And yes, feel free to tell her I said all that. If she wants to fight with me over all this, that's fine, we're family and have to put up with each other, but taking off after Prince Alphonse was stupid and taunting Kolb… well, just point out to her that it was a mistake and she should know better.”
The Ambassador, the other Ambassador, stood grinning.
Right, he'd told her that he wouldn't really withhold the rivers. That may be simple truth, but it didn't mean he'd be happy about it, or do it without making her life difficult. Everyone else had loaded into the carriages already, all decked out in fantastic colors, except Trice’s which was a dead looking flat black. It went with the ship well, if not her personality. Trice had always struck him as a bright blue person that way.
“I will see to fixing things Ambassador Baker.” The small dark woman said, bowing low to him.
He stuck out his tongue.
“Stop that. You're what, my aunt? Cousin?”
She shook her head with a slightly amazed look. Probably that he was being so dense. That or the fact that he finally put together that her family name was “Gray” just in a different language?
“No… I'm your great niece. Though also your cousin.”
Of course she was.
Tor gave her a quick bow and told her they'd be back at first light trying not to sound like he wanted to kill someone. Ambassadors didn't do that, did they? Not good ones.
Back on the ship everyone exploded. Nearly at least. The huge scary Baron, Havor people called him. That could be either his first or last name, or the sound you made when he crushed your spine. Tor didn't know. The enraged giant stormed around complaining about how the Afrak women had kept staring at him and poking his stomach. One even tried to look at his teeth, as if he were a horse and another had tried taking his trousers down for some reason.
Tor had to admit it sounded off-putting in the extreme. Most of the royals, even the women were visibly angry. A few with him, for saying they'd put in the rivers anyway. The Royal Guards didn't complain, they just stood back and watched. As if nothing mattered as long as they didn't have to defend the Prince or Prince’s. But then they were used to being considered second class citizens weren't they? Furniture in the background. Useful, but not counted as important most of the time. Sara, with her merchant background didn't seem overly put out either.
“Sara, you seem to be the calmest one here, that isn't armed openly at least, thoughts?” They needed rationality now, didn't they? This girl may have seen something he'd missed, she was smart, Tor knew, and often got things he didn't. She was, among other things, a highly trained observer.
“This culture is screwed up, the men… I don't know what's wrong with them, but they're different than ours. A lot. Mainly the same size or smaller than the women. Still, is the way they're treated all that different than how the nobles treat the commoners back home? The assumption that one group is superior, should be giving the orders and making the demands? Pretty familiar isn't it? It's based on gender here rather than social rank, but how different is that really? Something totally beyond the individual’s ability to change being used to assign position.”
Ah.
It was a good point, Tor had to nod, even as the large royals milled around and fumed, a few of the men looked ready to lash out physically, which was scaring Ali more than a bit. She slipped to the side of the deck, away from everyone else. Since no one was noticing her overly he went and took her hand in his, getting a small scared look for his trouble. She didn't speak, but Sara was busily standing her ground in the middle of the deck, facing off with a group of three giants who were arguing that she was wrong. They seemed intent on proving that they weren't entitled and overbearing jerks by looming over her and basically ordering that she change her mind.
Because that made sense, didn't it?
Tor kissed the girl on the cheek and asked her to stay there, just in case things got tense, and walked back to his pretty blond friend. Hearteningly Rolph did the same. If anyone got mad and attacked, Tor wouldn't have to fight alone at least. It wouldn't come to that, he hoped. Too many hard feelings could be built that way, fast. Sara stared up at the larger people, her gaze taking in all the extra tall people.
“Really, you don't do that? We don't do that? I've heard all of you talking in the past week you know. I've been groped, fondled, and ordered into bed by at least six of you, and if I didn't have the heir to Noram himself running interference I would have had to do it. When Tor only made oats one night, half of you wanted to order him to remake the whole meal by himself… And he's a noble, with rank as high or higher than most of you, the Ambassador and a wizard! He could make the whole boat go away with a thought, make all our magic not work and leave us in the middle of the ocean! You all just look at his height and forget that. The subconscious assumption that those you perceive as being beneath you really are is no different here with the Afrak women. You're just upset because it's happening to you this time.”
It was a good thought. It certainly had a ring of truth to it, didn't it?
The nobles didn't like hearing it, but the Royal Guard didn't blink, living that kind of thing all the time. Tor wondered if he did that to people too? He didn't think so, but decided to make a point of looking for it from now on. Change had to start with you, or it likely wouldn't happen.
People still wanted to be worked up, reasonable speech from his friend or not, so Petra called over Kolb and Wensa and had them put their people to bed.
Without dinner.
That wasn't so much a punishment as the fact that nothing had been made, but it still drove home the point when one of the men, a minor noble of some kind that had batted Tor around a time or two in practice, one always heavy on the stick or blade tending to leave bruises, told Tor to just go and make them all something to eat. He said it as if he really hadn't been paying attention at all. Ordered him too, more than a little gruffly, to tell the truth, grumpy from the conversation and hunger no doubt. The man didn't even bother to add a please to the end as an afterthought. Or offer to help with the work. David Derring walked over and hit him in the back of the head. A full punch too. That it landed meant the man had gone to a strange land without his shield on. After less than a seconds pause David hit him again for good measure.
“Moron. Were you not just standing here the whole time? Damn, we really are that bad aren't we? Gods.” The tall thin man with his very short light brown hair and combat leathers stormed off, to bed most likely, that having been the suggestion.
Sara looked at him and rolled her eyes, and Kolb, for the first time Tor ever remembered, looked… embarrassed. That probably wouldn't go well for the hungry guy. Tor grabbed Sara by the hand on the way past and walked her to her room without speaking, glaring a little at the tall people filing in around them. They'd been demanding she perform for them sexually? Tor could see it, she was cute and fit, and to their minds her short height meant fair game. Socially she was… actually the lowest ranked person in the whole crew. Even he was higher up, if only technically. Ali was actually a Counserina too, by birth. He shook his head getting a funny look from his friend.
“What is it Tor, are you alright?” She looked slightly worried, so he grinned to reassure her, his go to move when he wasn't shrugging.
“I was just realizing I'm not the lowest ranked person on the ship, or in the world. I… it's hard for me to remember that kind of thing. I just always kind of assume it.”
The statement got a kiss as a reply. Then she asked if he wanted to come in for a while… given everything he didn't think he really should, in case she was just trying to make him feel better with sex, but she wrinkled her nose cutely and pulled him in anyway.
“It's that stuff Trice told me about isn't it? How you don't see yourself correctly and can't really help it? If you were in a room with a dozen pot washers you'd think your social position was about the same, right? Or a dozen King’s, so at least there's that. It's bizarre really. Alphonse has told me more than once about how you've stood in the presence of the whole royal family and traded barbs with some of the highest councilors in the land, but you still always act so humble and demure the rest of the time. Amazing.”
Then, thankfully she started kissing him, which led to other things. He slept in her room for about five hours before he forced himself up to make breakfast. He was draggingly tired, but happy enough about it. Sara was sweet and gentle with him, compared to Karina who was always a bit physical and dominating, or Ursala, who was always fun and interesting but not that warm. It wasn't that he minded that, but with Sara he felt… loved. With Trice too,
