You tracked footprints from the Baronet's window to the periphery of his lands, where townfolk from St Thosos and elsewhere along with some Giranois exiles and other malcontents had gathered. In one tent you found some Giranois who were not the pathetic exile type; instead they turned out to be Sottogh clan members, who with some tough questioning confessed that they had come here with Gertrude (not sent by Elder Ilk as they'd first claimed) to watch events from a distance and learn more about the Baronet and his heroes themselves. Then you found the street trickster Zeffedi, acquaintance of Gertrude, done up in a clown's outfit entertaining the peasant boys and girls. By taking him aside and engaging in some even tougher questioning, you learned that Gertrude had joined some troupe of entertainers or something and left into the swamps to practice some planned event. You tried to find her to no avail, then time came to prepare for the marriage. The Baronet was fuming.
Back at the Manor, Cyroosta had placed wedding gifts from the Baron in Fraud's quarters. There was a velvet-lined mahogany box with a scrap of parchment bearing a cipher on it, and a small rune-carved bone, and then a crate full of fine old liquors from around the Orninior coast. A nice gift, but no time to examine the mystery box further. The Baronet changed into his wedding clothes and you came to the fallow field where Cyroosta had arranged the ceremony. There, she had imported a mound of red earth- anthill material from Pamaltela (“infused with the blood of our ancestors”). It soon became evident that she had prepared an exotic wedding ceremony, blending proper Rokari scripture and ritual (led by the scribe Nebonezak) with old Pamaltelan witchery and spirituals. The peasantry watching the event did not know what to think; a mixture of aghast and awe. Pithdaran culture, the mix of old foreign ways and Seshnelan tradition, was concentrated here into a potential magical mix brewed in the local magic of Giraine. She had been busy while you were away!
She launched right into some of that potent magic. With an authoritative voice, she intoned “I call any that have conspired against my son and family to step forward and speak their misdeeds. I will not bless this marriage if it is founded in a land of lies- we will bind our families together with pure truth.” There was much muttering and uncomfortable looks among many of the attendees and then Inyana spoke up in a trance, apologizing for smashing Cyroosta's naughty pots in order to make new clay for “babies”. Cyroosta kindly forgave her. Many of the peasantry made amends to each other in the audience, then the scribe stepped up to the Oomsh-lectern and droned the necessary sacraments to make this a Rokari wedding (if a watered-down and heretical one; of course without a chapel it was already such). Inyana and Fraud joined hands and were blessed, then Cyroosta continued, with a long incantation that left almost every jaw in the audience agape for one reason or another–
“Listen, here is wisdom. This is not my voice; this is the voice of the Land itself. Men tell the story differently, but that is just men speaking and they speak with their spears, not their voices. I am Cyroosta, daughter of Guk'li'mani, a friend of the truth, and my totem is the purple marsh liana, which flowers at this time. Listen now with your whole spirit, and remember these words in your liver. Men gave away their secrets to women long ago. Women are the keepers of wisdom, and we dig it from the earth as we have done since Grandfather Mortal voiced his first words, foolish as they were.
I have spoken with the spirits of land, air and sea. I have dream-danced to speak with the wizened shade of King Nekeros, father of our bride Inyana. He has welcomed me as husband-giver. Our families now have a contract stronger than iron. I have done the same with the frightened and angry spirits of this swamp. And I speak with my family's ancestors every night, and they have infused this land to consecrate it as a new foundation for House Shaven. All of the powers that matter now favor this marriage and it will proceed. But from the new kinship that we weave emerges a new family. I gain a daughter not just in name but in blood and spirit. Welcome, Inyana Shaven, heed my wisdom and come laugh with my about your husband's lack of it. Call me mother; the one you lost has been returned in my form. My son, Fraud Shaven, remember that you are now in brideservice to the Land, and this land, this swamp, now has a heart that beats songs of Nekeros and of Giraine. Let those songs bring more life than death.
To our servants, I welcome you to our new family. You will find it gives you as much as you give it; the land is a great provider and its songs of power are steeped in rich, secret vigor. I have imbibed deeply of this truth. [the Captain did not enjoy being referred to as a servant!]
I welcome one amongst you to take a new place, inside the family skin and no longer outside it. I extend that welcome to one beloved and trusted by all here. Sir Boamund of House Jabaal, [shock! What is happenening here, the peasants asked!] come stand beside me as younger-chaste-husband, and know that your Baron blesses this new bond and new way.” [shock amongst the audience! She was sidestepping Seshnelan/Rokari castes and promoting him to Lord in the family's eyes! And Boamund was happily playing along, trusting her!]
“Listen! Hear the voice of the land! Feel the tremor of approval of the Shattered Saints!” [who!?] A minor quake shook the grounds. At this point, disgusted, the Baronet and Captain left with some loud words of disapproval, taking Inyana with them– the scribe tried to draw them back but they were irate; Cyroosta proceeded nonetheless.
“Raise your spears to Lord Boamund of House Shaven!” she cried [some of the crowd did as she asked, but there was much grumbling among the peasants– this was new, this was NOT Rokari, this was change, this might be very bad!].
And her final recitation came- “Even the Land and the saints must obey kinship; nothing is stronger. Let us eat and drink of that kinship. So Speaks the Land!” She encouraged all present to repeat the last phrase, and as they did a magical conduit drew an offering of mana from them to bind them in the ritual completely.
At this point there was disorder in the Shaven marriage ceremony. The Baronet and Captain stood in the distance trying to make sense of what had happened and why. Cyroosta had her own machinations, to be sure, but they reasoned there were other, perhaps more malevolent, forces at play. Inyana reminded them that she was no longer immortal- she had become human after her husband-to-be kissed her on the shoreline the past night, and this was what she had asked for and been granted by “an ugly old woman” in the swamps – Gertrude in disguise, the mud hag, the Vadeli woman, Cyroosta, a Giranois, or who!??! Inyana was in tears; her high hopes for this night had come crashing down.
But soon the Baronet returned to the marriage mound to argue more with Cyroosta at length. Still very much ill at ease, he relented and clasped his bride's hands again with the scribe at attendance reciting the final wedding words after Cyroosta's “So Speaks the Land” blessing had been spoken by all, and the two lovers finally gave a chaste kiss. The Captain stood nearby in a daze, his mind clearly elsewhere, and earned a stern look from Cyroosta when he did not join in, but she did not press the issue.
The feast was rejoined and drink was aplenty. A series of local dishes featuring crab, asparagus, shark, seasnake and octopus came, with toasts in between each, and the atmosphere became more merry if guardedly so.
*A game effect should have been noted here. This was a very powerful ritual and allowed people to make pledges, including during the toasts, that could alter their Personality traits, especially relationships such as Love and Loyalty etc. We'll revisit this next time– give it some thought.*
As the jellied octopus tarts were wolfed down, the entertainment began with oohs and ahhs as paper-and-wood gliders floated down from the nearby treetops bearing colourfully-dressed dancers and musicians. They whirled around as the music grew to a crescendo, then a short veiled danced stood alone within a ring of the others, and sang in rhyme–
“There once was a lovely lord, who bore a prodigious sword. On his tongue he oft tripped, he threw his brother in a crypt, but much was he adored. He soon found a lover but there once was ANOTHERRRRRRRRR… [rips off veil; low pitched voice with Giranois accent] She now sings a different chord.”
The Baronet applauded her calmly and asked if she had something for him. She replied, “Baronet Fraud Shaven, I wish great future for your family but have pledged my service to another. I'm sure you understand how that goes, Fraud. I must apologize that my wedding gift to you shall be late but it will come at the right time and only then. However here is a downpayment; I think you dropped this sir. May it serve you as well as it did me.” She then tossed his penis back to him [gasps from the crowd, but many had no clue what it was], bowed deeply one last time with a curtsey at the end, and pranced off with the others after a Giranois amongst them stepped forward and said they were “the Riders of Sclavora” [a Giranois name for pterodactyls] and hoped their show had been pleasing to the Lords. The Baronet was relieved in many ways as they left.
The now rowdy crowd began a chant for “Duel!”– a popular Seshnelan tradition at any public ceremony with multiple castes present– and eyes looked around for who would step forward to do this formal, usually bloodless honor… —-
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