Demesne

41 - The Promise of Breakfast



Rian and the others weren't awake yet by the time she got back, so she left the fruits on top of the pile of supplies next to them, resolving to eat the blueballs if she came back and they were still there.

Then, still with nothing better to do, she wandered out again.

She sighed regretfully as she walked about River's Fork. The remaining damage from the dragon– the large boulders still lying around, the destroyed houses, the holes in the dome, the precariously shattered trunk of the tree barely being held up by its place in the weave of branches– was such a marked contrast to her nice, restored demesne. Really, if she'd claimed this place, given it a nice new name like Lori's Crossing, and established her authority, she could be spending her time clearing everything, reinforce that shattered trunk with earthwisps so that the dome would be less likely to fall, maybe get started on more fireproof housing or at least a dedicated kitchen area so more people could be fed efficiently.

Ugh, she really needed to get back to her demesne. Now that there was no core to claim, this was all just a terrible, pointless waste of her time

She found herself back in the space in front of the central tree. In the light of day, it was obviously some kind of central gathering space, maybe for community meetings or something of that vein. The remains of the fire was a pile of ash now. She looked around, debating, and walked towards the central tree, climbing the stairs sticking out of it so she could see above the houses. Despite the smoke coming from some of the houses, there didn't seem to be that many people rousing, though beyond the dome she could see some people seemed to be tending the field of grasses. Crops of some kind? Is that what the plant that grain came from looked like?

"Good afternoon, Dungeon Binder," she heard the Vyshke woman say from somewhere slightly above her.

Lori turned and found the woman a few steps up. In her hands was an empty leather bucket. "Barely," Lori said. "It's almost noon."

"So it is," the Vyshke woman said.

"Do people usually sleep in this late?" she said.

"Everyone must still be tired from looking for my niece," the Vyshke woman said, giving her that scary mother look, the one that said mother disapproved about something.

"She's fine. The Demesne's still up, isn't it?" Lori said.

"That's all you care about, isn't it? The chance to take this place for yourself?" the Vyshke woman said.

"Why else would I be here?" Lori said. "The world-famous local library? The many centers of learning? The theaters with its famous actors and shows?"

"And is your demesne any better?" Vyshke said.

"Yes," Lori said simply. "My demesne has a Binder who knows what she's doing."

The woman gave her a level look. Then she began to make her way down the stairs. When she reached Lori, the wizard stepped aside. Purely to be polite of course, not because mothers were scary or anything.

"Have you eaten yet, Great Binder?" the Vyshke woman said.

"Not yet," Lori said. Fruits didn't count as a proper breakfast in her opinion, which was the only one that mattered. "I'd rather not break out the travel rations if I can help it."

There was a look of what seemed like sympathy in the woman's face. "Then come with me. You help me cook, I'll make you breakfast."

Lori eyed her, then looked around. Still little in the way of movement that wasn't leaves in the wind. "The library is closed anyway," she shrugged. "Why not?"

She fell into step beside the woman, her staff joining her feet in a familiar three-step tread.

"Has Binder Shanalorre made her presence known yet?" Lori asked.

"Shana hasn't reappeared, no," the woman said with a blatant lack of respect. "If she's safe, we might not see her for days. Her father made sure we had a lot of fruit trees around the demesne. She could walk to literally any tree for something to eat."

Lori sighed. "So the issue of Grem is unlikely to be settled any time soon, then."

"I think the men had already mostly decided to hang him," Vyshke said with undertone of… something. "They just have to wake up and get everyone together. You will, of course, be invited to witness, as you requested."

Lori nodded. "I'm glad Binder Shanalorre was able to delegate the decision to someone before she made herself unavailable."

For a moment, they walked in silence.

"You're going to insist on this, aren't you?" the Vyshke woman said. "You're going to insist on having my niece judge a man who bounced her on his knee before she'd learned how to walk, so he can escape justice?"

"I don't give a breath whether he lives or dies," Lori said. "She's your Binder, and as a Binder hers are the only decisions I'll respect. Whether she judges him herself or she gives you permission to do it for her, all I care about is she said it be done that way."

"And why is that?" the Vyshke woman said. "Why do you care that her will be done?"

"Because that's the way a sane world works," Lori said. "The Binder is obeyed. Otherwise there are consequences. It doesn't matter she's a child. She's the Binder. As a fellow Binder, I can't recognize anything that subverts her power. It'll seem like I'm trying to subvert her demesne."

"You stated it was your intention to claim this place should she fall to the next dragon," the Vyshke woman said.

"That's just common sense," Lori said. "She'll be dead, after all, why waste a perfectly good place to establish another community? But while she lives?" Lori shrugged. "I'm not a murderer."

"Merely a scavenger," the Vyshke woman said dryly.

"You say that like it's somehow worse than being a murderer," Lori said. "Would you rather I had tried to kill your niece?"

They walked in silence.

"You are right, Great Binder," the Vyshke woman said quietly. "I apologize."

"Show your contrition with bread," Lori said.

They reached the outskirts of the dome, and came upon an open shack, inside of which firewood had been stacked in orderly cords. The Vyshke woman gestured for Lori, and she held out her arms, holding her staff between them as firewood was stacked for her to carry. Lori was annoyed but not surprised she ended up carrying the larger stack. If asked, she'd probably be told there was no one to stack wood in the Vyshke woman's arms.

At least the pile wasn't so high it blocked her view. Arms already burning– was this any way to treat a guest?– Lori followed the woman back to the central tree…

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After Lori had helped the Vyshke woman with the firewood, bringing them up the large central tree to the house where she apparently lived near the top and used some lightningwisps from her quartz to make a flame for the woman's stove, Lori was allowed a moment to rest her arms before being drafted to help knead the dough for the bread while her host prepared the rest of breakfast. A breakfast that was late enough to be considered lunch, judging from the sun.

As she'd guessed, they had nothing to make the bread rise, so there was a lot of folding and kneading involved. She was still kneading as the smells of some kind of meat and wild vegetables filled the air. Lori kept on folding and kneading as ordered.

Behind her, she heard some noises that indicated other people were waking up as well. Lori didn't turn as she heard footsteps behind her that stopped abruptly.

"Lasp, put a shirt on, we have a guest," the Vyshke woman said. "Yoshka, wash your face, there's still some water left. Verik, we're out of water, put on your shoes and get some more."

"What is she doing here?" she heard the doctor's voice said.

"Being a guest, what did I just say? Now make yourself presentable, you're supposed to be a doctor, not a yard worker!"

"Speaking as a former lumberyard worker, we were expected to be presentable too," Lori said, not looking up from her kneading.

"Hear that? You look worse than a yard worker! Go put on a shirt!"

There were grumbles that stalked away, presumably to put on a shirt.

"Were you really a yard worker?" the Vyshke woman asked.

"I had to pay for school and supplies somehow," Lori said, still kneading.

"And now you're a Dungeon Binder."

"It's apparently not that hard out here. Even a child can be one."

There was a snort at those words. The meat and vegetables were taken off the heat and the pot was placed on the table near Lori. She was handed a spoon.

"All right," the Vyshke woman said. "Here, let me show you how to stuff the dough…"

Lori followed the woman's example, making a wrapper with the dough, stuffing it with the meat and vegetables, and pinching it shut. She, the Vyshke woman and a young girl who seemed at least half Binder Shanalore's age and was introduced as Yoshka all worked to fill the dough with the stuffing, and then the excess dough was put on a hot pan to cook and become bread.

"Dungeon Binder," the doctor said as Lori finished washing her hands and, lacking anything else, discretely dried them on her shirt.

Lori turned. "Doctor," she said.

"I don't recall inviting you to breakfast," he said, giving her an unwelcoming look.

"Speak with your wife on the matter," Lori said. She walked around him towards her staff, leaning against the wall next to what appeared to be benches for guests. They were wide, comfortable things, obviously meant for entertaining and obviously made by a Deadspeaker. The legs and seat were made of three different woods braided together. She sat down, trying not to salivate at the smell of cooking food. In the kitchen, the doctor and the Vyshke woman were having a low, obviously intense conversation, with much gesticulating.

Across from her, the young girl sat on the other bench. Like her cousin, she had pale hair, although hers had a light green tinge. She was looking at Lori with polite interest.

"Hello," she said as her parents were gesticulating in the kitchen.

"Hello," Lori said.

"Are you really a Great Binder?" the girl asked. "Like Shana? And dyadya Kosh?"

"Yes, like Shana," Lori said. "Do you know where she is?"

The little girl shook her head. "She's hiding," the girl said. "She hides in her room a lot, or in her house, or just hides. She'll be back."

"People don't seem to think so," Lori said.

"She'll be back," the little girl insisted. "All her stuff is here."

Lori had to nod. Made perfect sense to her. It was why she'd have to go back to see her mothers, someday: to get the rest of her things.

But not any time soon.

There was grunting from the stairs, and a pale-haired young man with sleepy-looking eyes came up carrying a leather bucket of water. "Got the water," he grunted. "Yoshka, can you open the urn?"

The girl got up to do as her brother asked, holding the lid of the wooden urn– Deadspoken, of course– as he carefully poured the water into it. Lori continued waiting patiently, breathing in the smell of the bread as the doctor and the Vyshke woman finished their discussion. From the doctor's disgruntled look and glare at Lori, he'd lost.

The little girl made to sit in front of Lori again, but her father said, "Yoshka, get away from her." Pouting, the girl did as ordered, and her mother called her to start helping set the table.

Eventually, breakfast was ready, and Lori sat with the family on the opposite end of the table from the doctor, the sleepy-eyed young man to her left. As the breakfast– flat bread and the pastries filled with meat and vegetables, which the little girl helpfully told Lori was called Empanara– was being passed around, Lori politely only taking as much as everyone else, there was a pronounced creak from somewhere in the house.

As everyone but Lori looked up in confusion– she didn't know what sounds this house made– Binder Shanalore stepped out of one of the rooms, looking tired, slightly dusty, and with some kind of dried, yellowish juice around her mouth.

"Shana!" her uncle exclaimed. "Where have you been all night?"

"Alone," she said curtly. "Good morning dyadya, mushka, Yoshka, kyra Verik." She looked at Lori. "Binder Lolilyuri."

Lori nodded politely. "Binder Shanalorre."

"I have come to a decision about the matter, and will discuss it with you later," she said, voice detached and lofty, as if she was trying to sound mature.

"Answer me, Shana!" her uncle demanded. "We were worried sick, everyone was up all night looking for you, and you were just hiding in your room?"

"I wished to be alone," Shanalorre said. "So I went somewhere I would be. I apologize for any undue worry it caused."

"Undue worry…!" her uncle said. "You can't just do that Shana! What if something had happened to you? You can't–"

"I can do what I want," Shanalorre interrupted him. "I am the Dungeon Binder, and this is my demesne. Not yours, not anyone's. Mine." Lori nodded in agreement.

For some reason, the doctor gave Lori a hateful look.

"Shana…" he said, visibly swallowing some intense emotion. "We will discuss this later. For now, come here, sit down, have breakfast."

"No, we shall not," Shanalorre said as her aunt, and cousins gave her strange looks, but walked to the table and sat down at the empty space next to Lori. "Binder Lolilyuri, be informed that my uncle's opinions and statements are his own and he does not speak on my behalf or on behalf of this demesne. Assistive executive power will be conferred, however, to my mushka Vyshke, decisions subject to ratification by me."

"So noted, Binder Shanalorre," Lori said. "Bread?"

"Yes, please."


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