Demesne

Lori had a wonderful breakfast, only occasionally marred by the doctor's impolitely unconcealed hostility and his insistence at arguing with his Binder and niece. The former was crass, the latter was suicidal, but this wasn't her demesne. The life expectancy of the people in it was not her problem.

It was clearly making his daughter uncomfortable, although his son endured with the complete and utter apathy of someone who wanted to go back to sleep. The Vyshke woman did not interfere beyond the occasional warnings, but Lori knew mothers. She wasn't supporting him or letting him have his way. She was practicing what she was trying to preach and saving her violent incandescence for when the guest was gone.

As a thoughtful guest, Lori ate cleanly and politely, filled her conversation with compliments as to the quality of the cooking the way her mothers had taught her, and politely tried to excuse herself at the earliest possible juncture with the pretext on checking up on her men. The Vyshke woman kindly gave her the remaining pastries and bread in a bowl with a polite request for the bowl's return, which Lori politely thanked her for.

When she made to leave, Binder Shanalorre stood with her, rushing to her room to her get shoes. "We have things to talk about," the young Binder– the younger Binder– said. "I will walk with you."

"Shana, you stay right here," her uncle said sharply.

"No," Shana said simply as she sat to put on her shoes. Lori stood patiently, waiting for her to finish, the bowl in one arm, staff in one hand.

"I am your uncle, and I'm telling you to stay!"

"I am your Binder. Obey," Shana said, standing as she finished securing her shoes. Her face was placid as she nodded to Lori, who nodded back and gestured for her to lead, as this was her demesne.

Muttering a vile oath– which got him a very displeased look from his wife, since his daughter was in hearing range– the doctor stood, brushing past Lori, who had to step back lest she drop the bowl, and grabbed Shana by one small bicep. "Shana–" he began sternly.

There was a blur of movement as Shana stepped hard on his toes, slammed a kick into the side of his knee, drove a fist into his groin, slammed an elbow into his stomach, and thrust the heel of her hand up into his jaw. She was just barely able to reach the last, which was probably why the strike was only disorienting instead of stunning. It made the doctor release her arm though as he stumbled back in pain, collapsing back to sit on one of the guest benches, wheezing as Lori stared in surprise.

"Shanalorre!" her aunt exclaimed, thunderous.

"I apologize, my aunt, but I will not be intimidated," Shana said. She turned to her uncle, who was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. "I will return to heal you once I have finished my conversation with Binder Lolilyuri. In the meantime, take a moment to consider what you did wrong. You are excused from any medical duties for the day."

Nodding to herself, Binder Shanalorre turned and began to descend the stairs, Lori following after her. Her descent was careful, as she had the bowl to mind, which Shanalorre seemed to appreciate, as she made no attempt at conversation until they reached ground level.

"I have considered the matter of n– of Grem's attempt on my life," she said evenly as they began to walk to where Rian and the others were sleeping, "and his attempt to manipulate you and Lord Rian into it on his behalf. I have decided you two were genuinely ignorant as to his intentions, and so only he will be punished. I also wish to commend Lord Rian for the actions he took on my behalf, and to thank Lorian Demesne for the meat you delivered to us."

"I am sure he would be glad to know that," Lori said. "Do you wish me to convey your words to him, or would you do so yourself?"

"I shall do so," Binder Shanalorre said. "On the matter of Grem, I have decided that though he is guilty of attempting to take my life, his reasons were understandable. As such, I have chosen to not have him executed."

"That is… merciful of you," Lori commented.

"This place has seen enough death," Shanalorre said. "However, he is to be exiled from this place and never return. In addition, my residents will be informed as to his actions and will receive permission to do with him as they will should he ever be found in or near the demesne of River's Fork, even unto death. I request that Lorian Demesne accept his death in these circumstances as stemming from either natural causes or suicide. Beyond that, I leave the matter in your hands, Binder Lolilyuri. He will be detained until it is time for you to leave, at which point I will release him to your custody. Do with him as you will."

"I accept these terms," Lori said, "with the addendum that, in the course of future trade and contact, I request that the residents of River's Fork do not disclose to residents of Lorian, or potential residents of Lorian, the reason for his exile. I would not have my own residents be motivated to harm him."

"Is that not your problem?" Shanalorre said.

"It is," Lori asked, "but there's no point in exiling him to live only to give the people at his destination reason to kill him. If you wish him dead, do so yourself."

The younger Binder took a moment to ponder this. "Agreed," Shanalorre said. "I will have my people agree to not disclose his crime, and allow him the possibility of a new life." She looked at Lori. "He will be your responsibility after that."

"That is acceptable," Lori said. "I should disclose that he is a probationary lord of my demesne, as I needed someone whom the new arrivals would respect to act as an intermediary for me. If this revelation causes you to rethink any of your decisions, I am willing to wait on going forward with this proposal."

Another moment to ponder. "Is that why you have been vocal in your defense and insistence that I judge him?"

"He is one of mine now," Lori said. "I have made… declarations. To allow him to come to harm with no attempt to avert it would set a precedent that could be used against me."

Shanalorre considered her words. Lori wondered if she had the vocabulary for it.

"Explain the word 'precedent'," Shanalorre said.

"It means I did it before, so people will expect that I do it again, even if the situations and circumstances are dissimilar, merely because it's simpler than actually thinking of the new circumstance," Lori said. "People can be idiots that way."

Shanalorre nodded slowly. "Thank you. I will be summoning my residents this afternoon to make an announcement clarifying my position as Dungeon Binder of this Demesne. If you and yours still plan to arrange passage for those once wounded who wish to be reunited with their families…"

Silence.

The wind blew and leaves fell.

Silence.

Lori blinked at the lengthy pause. "Binder Shanalorre?"

The younger Binder shook her head. "If you and yours still wish to offer passage, I will announce your intention and availability later, and they may make arrangements with you. I give them my blessing to become residents of your demesne." There was a pause. "Please take care of them."

"Of course, Binder Shanalorre," Lori said. After all, it was hard to get work out someone not cared for. Some effort needed to be put into worker maintenance for them to perform adequately. A thought occurred to her. "I should warn you that some people may not be satisfied with my rule for their own irrational reasons. With the availability of your demesne, some might decide to make the journey to try and live here instead. I ask that you reciprocate their care."

"I see," Shanalorre said. "Very well then. Should they wish to come, they would be welcome in River's Fork."

Lori nodded. Well, that got the idiot with the barrel and the delusions about not needing to live in a binderarchy off her dungeon. "Thank you, Binder Shanalorre."

They walked in silence, passing the hut where Grem was incarcerated. The two on watch started in surprise, getting to their feet, but Shanalorre gestured for them to sit, continuing on with Lori. The two looked at each other in confusion, and one of them headed for the central tree while the other remained at watch, his gaze intent on Shanalorre, and especially on Lori.

Eventually, they arrived at the hut Rian and the others were staying. From the sounds inside, people were still sleeping.

"Could I leave with you?" Shanalorre said, a mild quaver in her voice. "Just leave this place, live in your demesne?"

"You could," Lori said. "But your uncle would likely follow, and I'd rather not meet him every day. Still, if that's what you want, I'm sure we can arrange something."

Silence.

"You need not make your decision right now," she said gently.

Shanalorre blinked, then nodded. "I… see. Thank you, Binder Lolilyuri. I will… consider."

"Please leave a note explaining why when you leave, so your demesne does not assume I simply had you abducted, despite not having the resources to do so," Lori said.

"I will remember."

They stood in silence in front of the hut.

"You're doing very well," Lori said quietly. "But why start now? Why not before?"

Silence.

Eventually, Shanalorre turned to Lori. "I'm tired," she said, her face completely impassive even as tears slowly slid down from her eyes, "of not being able to do anything."

Lori nodded in understanding.

"You think I'm going to die," Shanalorre continued. "That… that Grem was right. That a dragon will… will… " She shuddered. Her little fists clenched. And then she straightened. Her face was impassive again, even as more tears slid down it. "If I die… please take care of my home. Please save my people."

"I will," Lori said. She remembered that time in the dark, of staying awake through pure indignation and outrage. "If I fall, I ask you to do the same."

"Agreed," Shanalorre said. She held out a hand.

Lori stared at it. Wizards didn't shake hands among themselves, as a rule. Magic required contact, especially for Deadspeakers.

Gingerly, she raised her own hand. Palms met, fingers closed.

They shook on it.

"Why is your hand sticky?"