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Summer 40: thoroughly

Matthew ELeave a comment

Most treasured Zann,

We had a plan. But the first real challenge would be coming and going from the palace. “The way I got here isn’t really practical,” I had told Wryth. “You have to infiltrate Cas Crid and hope everything goes just right.”

“There must be a way. There are greenkind here in the palace who visit the world frequently,” she said.

“Then let’s get hold of one of them.”

She tapped her chin speculatively. I knew she was thinking what I was thinking. Abducting a lauran noble? They’d kill us. And probably go to war with Amaydya.

Of course, it would be easy to just physically walk out of the place. We could do that. But that wouldn’t put us in the normal world where all the people lived. That’s why, when I tried going to the palace recently on the coach, I found the place empty. The greenkind had removed their court to some kind of realm that wasn’t exactly the same one that we humans lived in. And that realm was where Wryth and I were now.

Our favourite idea was to just break the spell, or whatever it was, that was keeping the palace just outside of existence. It was going to have to happen eventually anyway. But I pointed out to Wryth that this would put us in conflict with the royal greenkind, the Valnelatars and all that, before we wanted to be. And she pointed out to me that if we did break the spell they’d probably just do something else instead and we’d be just as badly off. So we didn’t pursue it.

“One considers,” Wryth said, gazing into the air, “In Amaydya we have little knowledge of the greenkind. Just what we hear from Crideon and its surrounding lands. But we do have stories of, oh, the strange people of the forest. The pranks they play on one, and so forth.”

“That’s hard to imagine,” I said. “But go on.”

“Yes. In one such story, the lost children must find their way out of the mazes and webs of the forest people. Spells that keep them lost and entrapped. So they pull a trick on the magic spells. They wear their cloaks and caps backwards on their bodies, does one see, and then the mazes and webs think that they’re walking in the other direction, and does not keep them bound in the spells.”

I thought about it. I had never heard of anything like that. “Do you really think it’s that simple?”

“I don’t know. But one could attempt it quite easily.”

“I like it,” I said, and stood up. She collected an extra guard cap and shortcoat from her guardpost, and we went down to the main gate.

We were standing in the sun, putting the uniforms on backwards, when a greenkind man cleared his throat.

I looked over. He was looking at us skeptically, and the cords around his sword were hanging free. He was in uniform, like us, except that his was gleaming white from his shako to his slippers. It was, of course, one of the royal greenkind guards of the Immaculate Zone.

The Immaculate Zone were the personal guards of the Valnelatar family. They never cooperated with the Rosolla Guards, and in fact preferred to pretend that we didn’t exist. They were a burning pain in the pisser.

“A moment, goodfolk,” he said. Right away, putting us in our place. You call someone “goodfolk” if you want them to dig a hole in your lane. Or shine your boots. “You are Amaydyan guards?”

“I am an officer of the Amaydyan guards,” Wryth answered. “My colleague borrows our uniform because of the unseasonal chill in the air.” The weather, by the way, was sunny and warm.

He frowned at her and moved his hand around me, as though he was feeling the air near my body with the back of his hand. Then he poked my leg.

“Ow,” I said. “Don’t do that.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

“My name’s Srix,” I said. “Who are you?”

“I am Llyll of the Immaculate Zone. Do you know what that means?”

“That you wipe thoroughly?” Wryth tilted her head forward at an angle that didn’t suggest that she found anything amusing.

“It means that you cannot lie to me.”

I knew this, of course. They could determine the truth of anything you said to them. They had all kinds of annoying little tricks like that. “I’ve just been telling Wryth here that you fellows in the Immaculate Zone were all very handsome and pleasant and that I liked you very much.” This time Wryth did smile, just a little.

Llyll frowned again. I don’t think he was used to being the butt of the joke. “The Immaculate Zone is charged with keeping danger from threatening the royal family at all times. And you are redolent with forbidden magic. Who are you?”

I didn’t want to talk to him about the magic. It was probably the effect of tasting the Sauce back during the Nap that he was detecting, and that conversation couldn’t go anywhere good. Might as well give him some truth that he wouldn’t know what to do with. “I am a special operative of the Rosolla Guard, and I’m on a mission to resolve the current crisis. I’ve encountered many different kinds of magic on this mission and you aren’t authorized to know about any of it. But if you want to keep the Valnelatars safe, you should be helping me.”

Llyll didn’t like that, but it was all true, so he couldn’t object. “And your name?”

“My name is Srix,” I said, meeting his gaze, speaking carefully enough that he knew that I knew that he knew that I was lying. “We’re going now, and you can give us a nice little kiss to welcome us back when you see us again. Which you will.” And we strode off through the main gate.

And Wryth’s silly trick with the backwards clothing worked! I could see the old coach stop at the bottom of the hill.

“I see the rumours one hears of the good relations between the Rosollas and the Zone are true,” Wryth said. “Isn’t he authorized to hear about your experiences?”

“No. They’re my experiences, and I didn’t authorize him, so he’s not authorized. This was a good trick, by the way, with the caps and coats. I wonder if it works more than once.”

“One must roll dice on occasion,” she said, and took a sheaf of Amaydyan intelligence reports out of an inside pocket, so we could consult them about our destination.

I’m so sorry,

Ybel

On Three Points of Usage

Matthew E4 Comments

Nobody likes to be told what to do. And I’m not. This is not me saying, “Hey, idiot, you’re writing it wrong, smarten up.” No. You’re going to do what you’re going to do, and I’m fine with it. I’m collecting these here because some of you out there may actually be wondering, what exactly is this word and how does it work? Here is my best understanding.

  1. whoop/whup:

To whoop is to shout exuberantly.
To whup is to hit: the Merriam-Webster website says it means “to administer a beating to, especially as punishment, [or] to defeat decisively”. (I think it’s onomatopoeic.)
So you don’t whoop someone’s ass; you whup someone’s ass.

Tangentially relevant here:
a 1993 song by Tag Team, titled “Whoomp! (There It Is)”
a 1993 song by 95 South, titled “Whoot, There It Is”
“woot”, or “w00t”, an interjection meant to convey enthusiasm (One can whoop “woot!”)

  1. whale/wail/wale:

To whale can mean to go hunting whales, but also it can mean to hit something as hard as you would need to hit a whale in order to have some kind of effect on it. (Merriam-Webster again: “lash, thrash [or] to strike or hit vigorously [or] to defeat soundly”.) So if you’re beating someone up, you’re whaling on them.

To wail means to cry loudly.

“Wale” actually is a word; it’s the side of a boat. Like “gunwale”. Back to Merriam-Webster: there is an old definition of “wale” that means “to mark with welts”! Learn something every day. So if you want to say that one guy “waled on” another guy, the dictionary says you can. Now what I think is that people who spell it this way intend to say “whaled on”, but don’t know that that’s the word they want, and this meaning of “wale” is a coincidence. But what I think doesn’t matter here.

It’s not clear to me what exactly Wayne said, in the movie Wayne’s World, when he complimented Cassandra’s band Crucial Taunt. He said either “You guys whale!” or “You guys wail!” He could have meant that they kick ass, or that they sing great. Either one works.

  1. yea/yay

“Yea” means yes. Like when you’re voting on a proposal you can vote “yea” (not “yay”) or “nay”. This is also the kind of “yea” you use when you’re estimating size (“about yea big”). I don’t know why.

“Yay” is the word you’re using when you cheer something. Now strictly speaking this should also be “yea”. If we’re being hardasses about it. You’re cheering by saying yes! It totally works. (There’s a Doonesbury comic from the 1970s where a boy is cheering for a policeman he knows, and it’s rendered, “Yea, Sgt. DeRosa! Yea, Sgt. DeRosa!”) But the spelling “yay” has entered the language and it’s fine to use it for the case where someone’s cheering.

—

I will not be checking back with you about any of this for compliance.

Summer 39: insignia

Matthew ELeave a comment

Dearest Zann,

Wryth led me back inside the palace. “If you would like a sword, to replace your guard sword,” she said, indicating my empty scabbard, “we have some very good ones in our suites. One does not like to boast. But Amaydyan weapons are far superior to whatever garden implements the greenkind allow you.”

“That’s very generous of you,” I told her. “But, no, thank you. I don’t use weapons.”

She thought about this. “Why is that?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Wryth paused again. Generous of her to assume that my stances were well-thought-out enough to be worth contemplation by a second person. “How can one fulfill the duties of a palace guard if one is not willing to hurt another? For that matter, how can one save the city against its many problems if one is not willing to hurt another?”

“Maybe one can’t. Maybe I can’t.”

“And so?”

“And so I’m not going to release a weary sigh and resolve to pick up the sword again. Because that isn’t in me anymore. Because if we could solve this problem that way, someone would have done it already. Because I don’t believe in it.”

“Well. One must admire your bravery.”

“Not if you don’t want to. This city is full of brave people. May I make a speech?”

She laughed. “Please do!”

“Thank you. I’ve had many adventures recently and met so many brave people. Citizens and guards, humans and greenkind, wizards and children and revolutionaries and criminals and eccentrics and fools and one giant anteater. They’re all willing to take their chances against the world and everything that the world can throw at them. The worse things get, the braver they become. But things have kept getting worse. Maybe bravery isn’t what we need.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. But if there’s a solution, I’ll find it.”

We were silent, climbing tower steps. Eventually, Wryth said, “Presumably the objection to swords would also apply to strong magic.”

“That’s embarrassing,” I said. “I had actually been hoping for some kind of magical solution. But you’re right. It’s just another kind of sword.”

“Or, that’s what it seems like to two guards, at least.” And that also was true.

“Are the Amaydyan roosts much farther? I’ve never been there before,” I said.

“No reason one should have, if one is a palace guard. The embassies bring their own guards with them. Our rooms are somewhat higher, I fear. In better days there are magical chambers to move us up and down the towers, but now that the palace is sequestered from the outside world, those conveniences are unavailable.”

“Oh well.”

“Just so.”

We were both used to exerting ourselves all day, but still, we were panting when we finally reached the Amaydyan rooms of this high tower. The four guards there waited alertly for us. Wryth indicated me and said, “This fellow is Ybel. He’s an important Rosolla Guard. One should know him, if one meets him elsewhere.” They saluted, that weird Amaydyan salute where you spin your hand around. “Anything to report?”

“No, ensign,” one said.

“Good. Continue.”

We entered a large round room in which clerks and guards were suddenly trying to look busy. Wryth surveyed them briefly and led me to a spiral staircase in the centre of the room. We descended.

Down here was a small bureau, very well appointed, where an elderly woman at a table was painting a small object. She looked up. “Ah, Wryth. And a new person.”

“Yes, Lord Ambassador,” she said. “This is Ybel of the Rosolla Guard. I’ve been conferring with him on the current conditions.”

“Good, good. Have my new figures been delivered? One observes that the last ones were very unsatisfactory.”

“No, Lord Ambassador. The artisan has fled the city. We’re trying to find a substitute.”

“Oh dear. Well, do keep me informed about that. I’m just finishing up the Parthage officers today.” She held up the thing she had been painting: a little figure of a soldier in a yellow uniform, brandishing a poleax. “The insignia isn’t molded properly at all, but I can paint it so that one cannot notice.”

“Very skillful, Lord Ambassador. Do you have more orders for me?”

“No, no. You always know what to do. Thank you, Wryth. Honoured to have met you, Ybus.” Wryth saluted and we withdrew. She took me up two staircases to her own small bureau.

“So,” I said.

“Yes.”

“What you’re telling me is that we’re working alone here.”

“One suspects that this is the case.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we’re both so wise and clever.”

Wryth nodded gravely, and got out a slate and some chalk, and we began to plot.

Love,

Ybel

Summer 38: clamped

Matthew ELeave a comment

Dearest Zann,

A strong pair of hands clamped my shoulders and pulled me backwards. Ambe’s foyer furnishings clung on as hard as they could, which lost me a lot of skin from my arms, but whoever was pulling me away was stronger. I fell back against them and we tumbled back onto the grass.

I twisted around to see who had saved me. It was Wryth, the Amaydyan guard officer. “Are you hurt?” she said.

“Not badly,” I said. “Thank you very much.”

“I am pleased to be of use. Does one encounter such hazards often in this palace? I confess your peril was one I had no knowledge of.”

She helped me to my feet. “I think it’s a spell that Ambe uses to guard her lair when she’s not in it. Which I should have thought of before pushing my face in there. Foolish of me.”

“I see. A magical spell that is also your colleague, then. And mine,” she said, grinning.

“Ay, I guess so.”

“I saw you crossing the courtyard. I caught you up because I wished to speak with you.” She pointed to a canopied greenfolk thing where people could sit.

“Oh. Well. What would you like to talk about?” We sat down on the thing.

She made a squaring-up gesture. “Our delegation to Crideon is in a difficult position. This court is cut off from the rest of the world, and is doing nothing to address the catastrophe outside. Some of the rebels are demanding that we be turned over to them as prisoners.”

“They are?” Not the ones at Cas Crid, I thought, Acea would never stand for that.

“They are. Many of your countrymen have no love for mine. One struggles to imagine a resolution to this conflict. So I am spending a lot of time thinking what to do. And when I see you, I think, perhaps he would be good to talk to.”

I nodded slowly. “I want to stop it all,” I said. “I don’t know how, or who can help, or what to do next. But I’m going to do something, because I don’t know who else is. Will you help? If you can?”

Wryth considered. “I remember you pushing a bench, at a wedding, to save your guards from being killed. I thought to myself, that is a clever man, not just to push a bench, but to know that the bench must be pushed. It is why I thought I should talk to you. Yes, I will help, if I can.”

I hadn’t expected to feel such relief. “Thank you,” I said. “Again.”

“How does one begin such a conspiracy?”

I reached out my hand and she shook it.

“Perhaps you’d like to speak to the Amaydyan ambassador?” she suggested.

That sounded like a good idea.

All my love,

Ybel