Demesne

"I told you," Yllian said a few moments after… Binder Shanalorre… stepped out of the room.

"She still shouldn't be in charge," Makoi said, looking after her like someone was tearing off his arm. "Great Binder or not, she's a child. Experienced or not, she shouldn't have to be doing this at all."

"You're still treating the last man who insisted that," Yllian said mildly. "Don't be the next one."

No one glanced at Yhal. No one had to.

"Otin, here are the directions from the Great Binder for excavating" he continued, tone unchanged. "There's a sheet included for you to sign after you've properly read everything. I was told to make it clear that anyone who didn't properly read everything would be considered at fault for any mistakes in the excavation. Read it before lunch ends so you can get started on the excavation. And don't just use it in the latrine, all right? We need to use the paper again"

"Using in the latrine is using it again," Otin said, earning him a glare. "Fine, fine, you'll get it back clean. Though aren't you pinching beads a little too much? It's just paper."

"Where are we going to get new paper around here?" Yllian said, still glaring. "Did you happen to see a cave with a store selling paper when you were marching upriver? Or any sort of store at all? This paper is all we have, and after you've all read what's on it, signed off on it, and it's been sent back to be acknowledged, we have someone who's going to wash the ink off and try to bleach the paper clean so we can write on it again, because unless Rian can head back to Covehold Demesne, there's no way for us to get any more paper. It's one of the many, many things you're going to have to get used to here, because if you don't, I and several other people are going to beat you—as a friend—so you learn."

The Whisperer stared at him. "You're serious."

"I've been serious about everything I've been telling you all since you arrived," Yllian said evenly. "You're the officers who haven't been listening and thought they knew better than the man who's been stationed here for more than a year."

Yhal didn't slip out unnoticed. Even with people occupied with looking over the part of the briefing specific to them—or simply griping about it like Makoi and Yhim were doing—there were those who glanced towards him as he hurried back down the passage, lit only by dimly glowing lights of magic. The Whisperers had been told—with repetitions to make sure it wasn't misunderstood—that they were not to modify or claim any of the bindings that were already present in the demesne, or add their own bindings to it. As far as Yhal knew, that was the sort of thing wizards considered rude, but apparently Binder Shanalorre didn't trust them to act with that much politeness. Or perhaps she simply didn't know? No one had taught her after all, and she actually said she didn't want to learn.

He shook his head. That wasn't his problem. Or rather, it wasn't a problem he could do anything about right now.

His knee twinged, but it wasn't enough to slow him down as he hurried down the passage, the rough stone flitting past him. There were weakly glowing lights on the walls, connected together by dimly glowing lines like luminescent cobwebs. He could see Binder Shanalorre up ahead where lights glowed in front of a set of doors built along the hallway, speaking to the pair standing guard there. He paused, letting her finish. While he'd resolved on this course of action, a not-insignificant part of him didn't actually want witnesses for it.

…that was actually quite a cowardly notion, come to think of it.

"Did you need something?"

The voice cut through Yhal's ruminations. Binder Shanalorre was looking at him, cudgel-like staff in hand, the two women guarding the doors watching him behind her. She'd stepped a little closer to him, resulting in her face being in shadow as the light illuminated her from behind. He was starting to suspect she was doing it deliberately. Surely something like that didn't just happen by chance…

For a moment, he considered excusing himself and turning around. This was going to be difficult, and if he wasn't ready…

But if he wasn't ready now, when would he be? Still, he gave it one last try. "I… wanted to speak to you privately… Great Binder," he said.

"I really do not have the time," was the immediate reply. "If you wish to say something, then speak quickly. There are things that need to be done."

Ah. Well, he supposed it was never going to happen on his terms anyway. "Very well, then. I… would like to offer you my sincere apologies, Great Binder. My behavior towards you since I arrived in… your demesne has been… very disrespectful, I see that now. I did not treat you as you deserved, and even when men I trusted tried to correct me, I stubbornly ignored them. I was arrogant and ignorant, and… for that, I am sorry." He bowed, and his back took the opportunity to remind him that it had also taken a beating, and why was he doing this to it? Yhal just barely managed not to wince. "I was wrong."

He was keenly aware of the two militiawomen—he vaguely recognized them, but the names didn't come to mind right now—behind Binder Shanalorre, who could hear every word of this, but there was no helping it now. There was a long silence, but Yhal didn't raise his head, keeping his gaze down.

"I do not think I have ever had anyone apologize to me," Binder Shanalorre said. Her voice was filled with a surprised contemplation. "Certainly not for disrespecting me. Either they have simply continued doing so or they stopped and tried to pretend it never happened. No one was ever actually apologized…" She shook her head. "I accept your apology, Master Yhallisu, and will remember it as my first of its kind. Was there anything else you wanted?" She paused. "And stand up straight. Binder Lolilyuri is right, that does look silly."

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He straightened hesitantly. "Ah, no… Great Binder." It was strange to say out loud when he wasn't swearing.

"Then I will be off. Heed Lord Yllian, Master Yhallisu. I have already given him everyone's orders." She gave him a small nod and turned away. Yhal stared after her, feeling unsure. What had he been expecting?

He shook his head, then paused. His head hadn't hurt.

Yhal was contemplative as he walked back to where Yllian was. His knee didn't pain him at all.

It was lunch time… or rather, it was a lunch time, because the number of people who needed to be fed and the size of the demesne's 'dining hall' had necessitated that people eat in staggered shifts. There were three shifts for people to eat, each an hour apart and running for a quarter of an hour according to the water clock that was used to measure the time. Lingering and chatting over their food—much less staying at the tables—was officially discouraged, and reinforced by Binder Shanalorre coming to your table and telling you to finish eating and make room for people waiting their turn.

Yllian had explained it all patiently, and informed them not to linger, because the tables needed to be wiped down and cleaned for the next shift who would be eating. Any violators would be the ones wiping up the tables and eating on the last shift for the next week, and already they had many people who had volunteered to clean. Breakfast—which Yhal had missed—was much the same, while dinner was supposed to be more relaxed, although people would still be eating in shifts simply because there weren't enough big pots to cook for everyone.

Makoi had joined Yhal and his family at their table. The man was one of the few people who wasn't here with family, since he was divorced from his wife and estranged from his daughter, so he tended to rotate through his friends to sit with them when it was time to eat. "Well, you're healthy again," the Deadspeaker said gruffly, taking his hand off Yhal's wrist. "And I can actually work on you now, so I suppose you're not being punished anymore. I know Yllian said she was a savant, but I didn't think what she could do was this good. Explains why everyone seems to be doing so well, although it probably doesn't do anything for teeth. What happened? Why did she stop?"

"I suppose she decided I had suffered enough," Yhal said, looking down at the food they'd been given by the kitchen. It consisted of lukewarm flatbread, a slightly hotter bowl of stew consisting of meat that hadn't been salted to travel, and a fruit—or three if one had the hairy looking blue fruit that Koshay had apparently named with something obvious and juvenile—that looked like it was just on the edge of being too ripe, without actually being rotten yet. Credit where it was due, the bowl was decently sized and they hadn't skimped by making it shallow or only half-full. It actually seemed like a decently hearty meal, full of meat, some sliced tubers and stewed grains. "Apologizing might have had something to do with it."

For a moment, Makoi stared like he'd spoken nonsense, before comprehension came over his face. "Huh. That worked?"

"More like she decided to accept it," Yhal said. While the food wasn't steaming hot, it was still quite warm, and from the sounds of enjoyment that people were making as they ate—including his family—it was definitely a step up from what most people had been able to make from salted beast meat, the tile-hard biscuits laughably called marching rations, salt, increasing-stale tallow, and a handful of valri grains. He took a tentative spoonful and marveled at the sensation of soft meat.

"I suppose she's young enough to just let things go with an apology," Makoi said thoughtfully as he tore some of his bread to dip into the stew. "Which is still too glittering young."

"Would you rather she be grown up and hold a grudge that she'll never let go of?" Yhal's wife Jhalem said. "I don't know about you, but after having to put up with supplies being late or getting rainbow postings because the officers in charge has a feud with another officer that someone should have just apologized for and moved on from, I say good for her. I don't like my family's chances of living in peace if the Dungeon Binder actually has a grudge against us."

They all glanced towards the girl in question. She was sitting at a table in the center of the dining hall with her little cousin sitting next to her, helping the younger girl eat as other children sat with them. The table seemed lively, and a few of the children actually seemed to be playing pincer as they ate, moving around little wooden markers on a plank with lines burned on it. Despite sharing the same table, Binder Shanalorre seemed completely detached from what was happening around her, all her attention seemingly focused on her cousin.

Makoi grunted. "So, what's the plan now?"

"You're asking me?" he said. "I have no idea. Even if I've been forgiven, I doubt how I acted will be forgotten, and Binder Shanalorre seems insistent on keeping all authority with herself and people she trusts, which at the moment seems to be only Yllian given how she doesn't seem to trust her own uncle enough to give him any authority. What can I even do?"

"You're still in charge of the expedition, as far as everyone knows," Makoi said. "I wouldn't be surprised if people start coming up to you to complain and asking you to change things. We can't be the only one who thinks all this work as soon as the tents are pitched is too much. This is civie life, not the militia, and we didn't even do this when we were in the militia."

"That doesn't mean she'll listen to me," Yhal said.

"Then you bring it up with Yllian, like a good sergeant should," Jhalem said with wifely finality. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Yhal. They've made it clear there's a lot of work to be done. Just because it's not officer work doesn't mean it's not important. Actually, the fact it's not officer work means it probably is important."

Yhal considered that, then nodded. Something that had been clenching in his chest relaxed. Yes, there was still something he could do. Something that needed to be done. "You're right, both of you. Someone will need to speak to him on everyone's behalf, at least for now."

"There you go," Makoi said. "Now get eating. Healed or not, you need to make up for the bits she used to fix you. Doctor's orders."

Yhal stared. "What?"

"Binder Shanalorre has decided to put you in charge of the wizards," Yllian repeated. "Basically, it will be your job to see to it that they're following the standards she set, doing the work they've been assigned, and bringing any issues they have to her so that they can continue working without interruption."

"But… why me?" Yhal said, confused. "I thought… after what I did, I thought she would want me away from any position of authority?"

"I'm sure she has her reasons," Yllian said, which meant he didn't know what they were. "Though I should make it clear, this is an offer and not an order. You can refuse."

"And if I do?" Yhal asked warily.

"Then you'll need to help somewhere else," Yllian said. "And right now, we need people to regularly empty latrines. The Great Binder wants someone assigned to it on a permanent basis so that it's not just a punishment duty."

"… so, in charge of the wizards?"

"For now, see to it that Tafit and Madsmif are surveying the hill properly and that the Whisperers are getting started excavating the mine passage…"