Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Dinner and Ale

Back at our tents, a large meal was prepared for us, everyone calling it dinner. Ok, fine, I’m in some kind of Twilight Zone episode where lunch is dinner and, anyways, I was surprisingly hungry. Last night’s exertions were probably catching up to me.

Before sitting down, I went inside and placed my new belt and dirk over a stand by the bed. That reminded me – what happened to the one I’d brought with me this morning? I took it off in the bath tent, left it with my clothing. Afterward, the forced dressing, excited girls and their reunion, then marched around the camp, it had slipped my mind.

“Sapphire,” I said, leaving the tent, “what happened to the clothes I wore before the bath?”

“Oh, those disgusting rags? I imagine they were tossed out.”

“What about the weapons?”

“I don’t know.” She rose and took me by the hand, leading me to the table, “Probably a servant took them to the weapon smithy.”

“I’m going to go check.”

“Check after dinner! It’s all set and getting cold.”

The girls at the table were staring at me. Waiting. Empty plates in front of them. “Oh. I see.” I sat down. “Bon appetite, everyone.” Blank faces, so I added, throwing excitement into my voice, “Let’s enjoy the meal!”

Various meats were laid out on a table and the main meal appeared to be roast boar. There were hardly any vegetables, which was disappointing. So, I asked Saph, “What’s with the lack of vegetables?”

“What, you want to eat like a peasant?”

“Uhm, soluble fiber? Vitamins?” She returned a blank stare. I gave up and changed topics, “What’s this porridge-like dish?”

“Porridge? What is with you? That is your favorite dish!”

I took a spoonful. It smelled like roasted nuts and musky sweat, the texture thick, granular, and buttery. Not awful, but far too rich. The oils coated my tongue and teeth, so I took a long swig of the wine, but someone had sweetened it, so I spat everything out on the ground. “This is so gross!” I spat and spat and dumped the wine onto the ground.

Servants rushed over, but my dress was free of wine, as it had landed in the dirt. A young girl hurriedly brought a cloth, placing it overtop the wine-mud I’d just created.

“What is wrong, have you been poisoned?” Saph was dabbing my lips with a cloth napkin. “Boy! Come here, drink this.” She handed her glass to Tread.

I was busy trying to get the taste out of my mouth when Saph forced the little bodyguard to drink some of that awful, slowly poisonous wine and he did, reluctantly. “It . . . seems fine.” Then much less reluctantly and with some enthusiasm, he finished the glass.

Sitting back up, wiping my mouth, and wishing I was in any other reality, “I said no more fucking lead sugar!” The girls collectively gasped, but I continued, “What is wrong with you people? Lead is poison for god’s sake! Don’t put it in my wine. And this wine, I don’t even like this wine! You!” I pointed at a servant, “Bring me some ale. Quickly! And a salad. Ok, you don’t know what a salad is. Lettuce! Lettuce leaves, washed. Wait, wait, you guys probably don’t boil your water. Never mind, just bring me a head of cabbage. Don’t look at her, go!”

Saph started with, “If the meal isn’t to your liking . . .”

“It’s not the meal, it’s everything! Just . . . I’m fine, ok, fine. This wine is just gross, the lead sugar is, I don’t even have words. It’s a wonder any of these adults can still speak after drinking it their entire lives. And what is this slop?”

“You really don’t know? But you eat it every dinner!”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s different this time.”

“Wheat and barley, steeped in tallow and sprinkled with pepper and garlic. You’ll need it with all the silly exercise you plan on doing!”

“Did you say ‘tallow’?” This was the stuff they used to make candles from? I was wracking my mind trying to remember what tallow was when I heard stomping coming from behind.

The old woman’s voice, “What is going on here? My word!”

The girls remained quiet. Two of them hadn’t dropped their napkins from their faces, they were so horrified by my actions. For some reason, that’s when I noticed their skin imperfections. It was suddenly so obvious. Pimples and oily skin covered over by make-up. No idea what forced my mind to carefully examine their faces at this point, but I inwardly vowed to get some vegetables into their diet.

The dowager-regent lifted me up by my arm, “Princess, we are going to have a talk!” Dragging me into the tent, the girls were quiet. As soon as we entered, their sudden, excited chattering exploded, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

I would have been annoyed at the dowager’s rough handling, but I was calming down from that . . . dinner. That. Yuck. Oiled barley, fat, musky animal sweat coating my mouth. I wanted mouthwash! Tequila! Anything to get rid of that taste. What is wrong with these people?

“Young lady, you are setting a terrible example! Is this the kind of wife you’ll become? Spitting at the dinner table! Dumping fine wine into the dirt!” She was fuming as only an old lady can.

I sat down at the sofa, “Oh, that stuff was rancid and the wine-”

“Then you take your napkin, pull it up to your mouth ever so gently as if to wipe and spit it out. Quietly. You do not make such a scene!”

“Ok, I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Now, listen, I know you believe lead sugar is good for stamina, but” I couldn’t help but give her a stare of incredulity, a head tilt, like I was talking to a moron, “it’s not. It’s poison. I won’t have any more in any of my drinks or food products, thank you very much.”

She stared me right back down. “Young ladies will eat and drink what is put before them and do so in a manner both pleasing and graceful.” The ‘or else’ was palpable at the end of that stare.

I was having trouble accepting that this was my video game adventure. Learning to be a princess, pretty for the men, mostly out of sight and mind. Something else was going on, so I ventured a guess. “What are you really here for?”

She stopped shaking and sat down across from me. “I put a stop to your unruly games. Set the armorer straight. He won’t be making your armor. The weaponsmith,” shaking her head from side to side, no, no, no, “won’t be making your weapons.” Her finger, pointing at me, “Nor the leatherworkers your gambeson.”

“My what? What?” I shook my head, confused. “Why are you interfering in my business?”

“Bah! Your business! You will not play at being a warrior. You are a princess and will act accordingly. That is your business! You’ll practice your manners, your letters, embroidery. You need a sense of normal. You’re acting out, like a child. We must get you behaving properly or there will be consequences. Oh, dear, I understand this war is a shock to the system, but we need to present grace and poise to the kingdom.”

“The kingdom? All I see is a military encampment.” The perfect place for me to train to fight!

“You are right.” She stood up. “We’ve been here too long. I’ll make plans for us to leave to,” long pause as she adjusted her dress, moved her hair just so, straightened her shoulders, “your cousin, the duke.”

“I don’t think so.” I stood up and did none of the adjustments, “I will be staying here, but yes, you go on ahead and prepa-”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“You’ll do no such thing! Young lady, I am going to beat responsibility into you if it’s the last thing I do. Yes, your cousin, as distasteful as that sounds. I see that this camp, all these men around, it’s not good for you. Your mood, your temper. You need to be in a stable environment, a protected, monitored environment where you can practice your feminine skills. Yes, I will go make the arrangements.”

“No, really, I am staying,” but she wasn’t listening and left the tent. Damnit, the entire day undone. How did I not have power as royalty? It was like I was trapped in from all sides. You! Be a princess! I was tempted to run away, but with the enemy rapists just outside our camp, that just didn’t seem like a good idea.

I went back outside to the table and was pleasantly surprised to find that the servant had indeed brought ale. What was I going to do? I needed that armor, those weapons. If this was a video game, it was putting a lot of pressure on me to play a role. One I did not want. Well, I would beat this role and forge my own. Like Joan of Arc.

It was that or talk to the wizard. Confess. See what he had to say. If this wasn’t a game, I somehow ended up in another, I don’t know, universe and another body. If it could happen, it could be reversed. Assuming, of course, mind transfer functioned exactly like chemistry.

That brought me to a dark place. The principle behind chemistry is that every reaction can be reversed. You take oxygen, add two hydrogens, get water. You apply electricity to that water via a separated cathode and anode, you get oxygen in one tube, hydrogen in the other. My dark place: baking.

If mind swapping was like baking a cake, I was in real trouble. Sure, in theory you can reverse engineer a cake into its component pieces, but in reality you’re going to have to eat that cake, then bury some wheat seeds in the aftermath of the processed cake, grow them into wheat, sun dry them, then crush them back into flour. Add the other molecules like sugar, eggs, and oil, and boom, different cake!

I didn’t want to be eaten. Or processed.

Sapphire rose, came to my side, “Are you ok? You’re starring off into space.”

“Yeah, fine. Hey, everyone’s started eating. Let’s go take a look for my weapons.” If I still had them, I could train, hiding them when necessary or just carrying them around, refusing to give them up. What’s the old hag going to do, have me arrested?

I set off to the bath tent, which was the next one over. Sapphire caught up to me, taking my hand in hers, which earned her a glance. Ok, I guess this is normal here, too. Same sex friends, holding hands. Like India or Indonesia, no worries. Kind of nice. The guards followed, not too closely this time. Giving us space for girl gossip? It didn’t matter.

We entered, searched a bit. The weapons and rags were gone. “Damn.”

“You don’t really need them, you know. We’ve got a whole army here. Your bodyguards are huge! Well,” flashing a naughty smile, “the one is.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I want to learn how to protect myself.”

Saph took my hands in hers. Larger than mine, but smooth skin, unused to labor. Warm. “When I was young, I always played with the boys. My brothers. We roughhoused around. You know, with wooden swords and all that. I was always tougher than they were, at least when we were little. I had to hold back or they’d get hurt.” She laughed. “So, I expected . . . I was so disappointed when they got to learn how to use real swords.”

“What happened?”

“I tried, at first. Rebellious, they called me. How many times was I forced to pray in the sacrarium? Eventually I just gave up and learned my letters, embroidery.”

“I’m sorry, sac-what-ium?”

Another of those ‘you don’t know the letter b’ looks. “Sacrarium. You know, where the house shrine is kept.”

“Right, that. Listen, we can train together, you and me! Why not? I’m the princess. We’ll show that old hag.”

She pulled me deeper into the tent, away from the door and spoke softly, “She won’t let you. She wants to keep you under her thumb, a little girl to be married off.”

I whispered back, “What do you mean?”

“Your father’s dead, your mother, all your brothers except Thomler. After him, the dowager is the de facto ruler. Dowager-regent. It’s in the title. Until you turn sixteen or get married.” She moved closer in, bright green eyes alone in the gloom of the tent, “But she’ll marry you to one of hers to keep control. Maybe your husband will hand over the throne, maybe she’ll steer it from behind. Maybe they’ll have you cloistered.”

That stunned me. So, I wasn’t yet sixteen. And the old lady had it in for me. “How do you know this?”

Saph pulled me in close, our cheeks touching, her lips brushing my ear, “A day ago she was gladdened at the news of your death.”

***

We walked back to the table. Weaponless. New, problematic knowledge I hadn’t a clue what to do with. Enemies outside, enemies within. I didn’t see what my options were here, who to trust.

Probably Sapphire. Possibly Tread. The other bodyguard, the large, frightening warrior, I didn’t choose him. The dowager had. Would she be so gladdened at the thought of my death to arrange it? If so, it was worrisome that the big bodyguard might be her man.

The wizard? I’d saved him. Yet he didn’t seem particularly trustworthy. He’d hardly thanked me, even treated me dismissively at the command tent. And went back on his word to Tread the instant we arrived within our own army. Not exactly someone to share important secrets with.

The prince! I could trust him. As long as he thought I was his sister. Yet he was planning on going into battle soon. I couldn’t imagine him being bested or overcome. He seemed the hero of this story. Somehow, I needed to stay close to him, get him on my side. Us against the dowager – come on, brother, give me a sword!

The problem was, I didn’t even know the playing field. The goals of the other nobility, generals. Even their names. How much time would it take the dowager to arrange for us to leave for the cousin’s? How far away was his castle? More things I didn’t know.

I did the only thing I could think to do and filled three mugs with ale, took them to the bodyguards, diligently standing off to the side, and gave them one each. “Cheers,” I said, clanking my earthenware against theirs, then taking a long and hard drink from mine. The ale was full and joyful compared to that awful wine. Another mouthful.

The boy looked nervous. He hunched up, pulled it to his lips, sipped without comment. He was probably a little drunk from that lead-poisoned wine. “Don’t worry,” I reassured him with a hand on his shoulder, “the ale will help flush the heavy metal from your system, so you grow into a tall, strong man.” A lie, but a nice lie. It’d come out in his hair or bond to his bones.

He returned a blank stare.

The tall, brutal looking guard actually broke a smile, “We can only hope, princess.” And drank damn near the whole thing in one go, then wiped away foam from his mouth.

I emptied the rest of the jug into his mug, smiled, and took another long drink. “Servant!” I called, “Keep their mugs full.” She bowed. Turning to the guards, “Hey, why don’t you join us?”

The girls cut their chatter, went into silent mode. I’d found the mute button it seemed.

“Eat, eat up. Can’t have my guards being hungry. That’d give the endless assassins too easy a time.” After a pause and some thinking, they dug into the meat.

The brunette, whose name I had yet to discover and who sat to the left of Sapphire, leaned across her to me, and in a mortified whisper said, “what are you doing? They can’t eat with us!”

“We are young,” I started, looking at each girl in turn, “and it’s up to us to make a better society. And I say it begins with being a little more socialist and a lot less autocratic. I’m starting with my dedicated, hardworking, ah, bodyguards here and sharing the wealth of our food. After all, a happy, healthy and well-fed bodyguard has more reason to keep you alive than an unhappy, starving one.”

Blank looks, all around. Probably socialism wasn’t so indoctrinated against here as from where I came, and they were all carefully considering my statement.

“Well,” said the unnamed blond, “I’ve never liked the wine either.” She picked up her glass and, flashing me a devious smile, dumped it into the dirt. “Serving girl, more ale for the table please.”

An idea suddenly hit me and I went with it, “Ok, girls!” I stood up, “I’d like you to introduce yourselves to these fine gentlemen. After all, we are sharing a table.”

Sapphire quickly caught my meaning, stood up and introduced herself with a curtsy. “Sapphire, mistress of the bedroom, pleased to meet you gentlemen.”

The soldiers stood up as Saph did. Tread mumbled something, Morrentz put his big hand on Tread’s shoulder and he quieted, each bowing with the girl’s curtesy, though Tread’s was, by far, deeper and longer.

The girl who dumped her wine stood. “Elmorgran. Lady in waiting.” Hesitant curtesy, not as picturesque as Saph’s, but I was studying the girls and their movements. Had to learn how to introduce myself properly after all. This time Tread stayed silent, and Morry developed a slight smirk.

The brunette rose, “Giselle, lady in waiting.”

And the last girl with the blond hair stood up quickly, “Brinley.” Sat down quickly, eyes on the table. The soldiers bowed, Tread matching Morry’s this time, didn’t go so low, and Morry had lost his smirk. Sapphire gave Brinley a dirty stare until Brinley stood up, saying, “Begging your pardon,” and curtsied, “also a lady in waiting.”

Saph added, “And you two are?”

Tread was much less ceremonial. He stood, mumbled out “Tread.”

Master of speech, Tread. Tiny bodyguard.

I wondered why I adopted him. At first, to keep him from hanging. I hoped he’d show some spark, some unique quality that justified my action. Sometimes, it’s the job, the responsibility that’s given that brings out the man. Not always, but sometimes. I really hoped it would be the case with lowly Tread.

The big guy stood up, a smile and a wink, a sweeping bow, “Morrentz, at your service ladies.” Then he picked up his ale, surprising me with a toast, “May we all live long enough to see the end of this brief war and,” he held the cup in my direction, “the troubles that it brings.”

When the serving girl returned with the ale, I gave her a cup, too. She blinked her eyes several times, smiled with just a hint of fear, and took the mug, turning her back to the table to drink out of sight and memory. This world I found myself in erased those it deemed lesser. Not unlike my own, I guess.

Finally, my cabbage had come, and I was happier for it. I tore off the dirty, outer shells until I reached the inner clean leaves. Back home, I’d rinse these under water, but wasn’t about to attempt that here. It probably didn’t matter so much since the produce was almost certainly organic. They just didn’t label it as such.

I tore a leaf off and filled it with pork, rolled it up like a poor man’s sandwich wrap, proceeded to eat. The girls, I’m sure, thought me mad. “Listen,” I said between bites, “fuck etiquette and fuck this place. I’m not going to play little girl princess anymore, I’m taking charge.”

Sapphire’s pouty lips and frantic eyes actually pressed into the cutest smile. “Well then, it’s about bloody time.”