1.3.1.4 Raised rulers
1 Soul Bound
1.3 Making a Splash
1.3.1 An Obligated Noble
1.3.1.4 Raised rulers
Kafana: “Litha?”
Herberto looked a little startled. “Oh, sorry, it’s so easy to forget that you’re not actually from our world, and have only been here a short time. I guess you wouldn’t know the calendar, would you?”
Kafana shook her head.
Tori: “That’s so strange. Ok, Litha is the summer solstice, when the best of the young men and women compete for glory in various contests. In the age of kings it used to be jousts and gladiatorial matches, but now it is mainly athletics and games like polo - strictly no deaths allowed.” She sighed. “The only bit left that Krev would approve of is the Bridge of Fists.”
Herberto, standing behind her, shrugged his shoulders with the palms of his hands raised, as if to say “What did I tell you?” Tori noted the direction of the wombles' eyes and spun around, fast as lightning, but Herberto converted the motion into scratching the side of his head in thought.
Herberto: “You compete for glory; some of us compete in order to measure and improve ourselves, so we’re better able to protect others and do our duty for the House.”
He started leading them along the track, and swept his arm out to indicate the men, and the apartments overlooking the Livery.
Herberto: “Look at them. They risk their lives for us; to protect our lives, our businesses and our honour. They live here, with their families, at our beck and call; to come or to go, to stand or to fight. Generation after generation, each raised to be loyal; an entire life encompassed by our House, from childhood to retirement and beyond - many spend their final breath in our infirmary. Do we owe them nothing but silver ducato in return?”
Herberto, shook his head firmly, forestalling any answers.
Herberto: “No, Tori. We owe them more than that. Coin for work, yes, but also loyalty for loyalty, protection for protection and, in return for their lives, we owe it to them to give those lives meaning. To make House Landi be something worth protecting, a cause that accomplishes more in this world than just accumulating power and wealth unto itself. We have been given the authority to rule our district and our lands. More power and wealth and authority than all but a tiny minority will ever see in their lives. We are nobility.”
He paused and turned to face his sister directly, as they arrived at last at the volleyball net, erected upon a sandy rectangle west of the archery butts, next to a small geometric shrine.
“We are nobility.”, he repeated, “And that obliges us.”
Tori: “Ah, but what does it oblige us to do? Am I required to obediently marry for duty? To also live in one district my whole life, that I may direct those who reside there? Should Virgil wither here, when his feet itch to sail to distant ports? I’m no mage, but at least I’m putting the talents I do have to good use, rather than simpering at balls or finding fashionable places to gossip at.”
Four guardsmen were using the court with energy, if not a great deal of skill. Kafana found herself instead watching the verbal volleys of Tori and Herberto.
Herberto: “As just a noble, you can do any of those things. Marry well, administer well, trade well, or just serve the people with your skills no matter if they be magery or healing or fighting. I know as well as you that half the people listed in the Golden Book don’t do that, but that just means they are bad at it - that they’re noble in name only. Your nobility isn’t defined by your clothes or occupation or manners; only by your actions.”
Tori: “Half? You’re generous. Have our Torellan peers changed that much while I’ve lived at Perugia with the condottiero?”
Herberto: “Not much, but for every highly visible coxcomb or popinjay scheming like Lady Farfalla, there’s Lady Carmela working for the guilds or a Lord Mocenigo serving quietly as a diplomat. Those who don’t take actions, don’t tend to end up in charge.”
Tori: “Rank in rulership may require high level, and thus age or at least accomplishment. But it demonstrates ambition and competence not merit. Those in charge can be just as selfish or abusive as those who never command anything except a carriage to take their heavily soused selves back home after socialising.”
Wellington: “Rulership? Is that a skill or a profession?”
Tori: “It’s weird. It is like a profession, in that you can have skills under it and there’s a new rank every five levels. But going up rank isn’t gatewayed behind requiring a master or even spending skill points. Instead it acts as a gateway to receiving positions of authority - you won’t get formally appointed as a Viscount or as the heir to a Count until you are level 55 and nobody gets to rule a district as a Count unless they are level 70 or higher.”
Wellington: “Why not? What happens if the previous ruler dies permanently when his children are still young?”
Tori: “It is the will of the deities, and people can sense that - it would feel wrong to do otherwise. If there’s a formally appointed heir, then he or she would take on the daily duties, but wouldn’t be treated as an equal by the others of their rank until they reached an appropriate level. In extreme cases, one or more people might be appointed guardians - possibly even outsiders, though it is seen as shameful if a House can’t find an uncle or retired elder of suitable rank to act in that role.”
Herberto: “Cov is the deity of order and Covob is an orderly world. We, the Covadan, are protected by Cov, as guests on his world. In return we should support that order. Our father, Claudio, needs a proper heir. You cannot run from your destiny forever, Tori.”
Tori looked at him with compassion.
Tori: “Oh Herberto. I may be the eldest, but becoming Count Mercato has never been my destiny. I fully support Claudio’s decision. The heir to our house needs more than levels, needs more than the ability to fight and lead on a battlefield. The next Count must be able to trade wisely, rule justly and raise heirs in their turn. It is not my calling, and I do not have the patience or passion for it. You’ll be a better Count than I ever would. You’ll get the levels you need, in time.”
She slapped him on the back, with enough force to stagger him.
Tori: “Buck up, we’re being boring. I don’t think they’ll be finished any time soon” she said, indicating the guards still playing. “Let’s shoot up to the old mews, and then they can see the whole place at once. It’ll save time.”
She led them at nearly a trot, past formal gardens, a pool, an aged building sticking out from the central Palazzo, a hedged area with kitchen herbs and cozy nooks, then through a guarded oak double door with iron bands and up a long spiral staircase. If Kafana’d been in arlife, she’d have been quite out of breath but with her adventurer’s body and 100 stat points of constitution, it wasn’t a problem.