As A Stranger Or A Friend?: The Swallow And The Drowned Sailor

Axtapor - 20 Evening Star, 1245 A.D.

"Clan Nefram has agreed to give us their youngest daughter, Lady Alva, to take as your bride, Axtapor. She is obedient and will be able to give you many children." My uncle declared, in an almost bored fashion, "I've arranged for you to be scalepicked in preparation for the wedding next week."

"She had her ikismal week passed." I growled.

"Yes, just as any other woman of marrying age would have one." He replied with some measure of annoyance, "And her family is thrilled that she is marrying into such a prestigious clan so soon after her ceremony. Now then, onto other matters—"

"She be a girl of fifteen!" I roared, slamming my fist down on the table.

He frowned and set down his spectacles matter-of-factly. "I fail to see your point. Many men wish for a young bride as their first wife."

My father and the other men in the council room simply sat stone-faced. It was clear that they had come to a consensus prior to my uncle's announcement and that the decision was final, which meant it was time for me to leave. Tonight even. Still, the thought reviled me. The Prince took Mariel as his bride when she first bled, and I didn't know how old that made her, but this girl, Lady Alva, couldn't be much older than Mariel was then. And now that I understood the terror and pain that could cause someone, the idea of finding myself as a similar source of dread for some poor girl made me sick with anger. What's more, I knew that, just like Mariel, she did not have a say in the matter.

Daughters did as they were commanded in The Empire. They married the man her father selected for her and popped out as many clutches as her husband demanded of her. The practice didn't bother me for a long time; it just seemed like a fact of life, but that was no longer the case. It wasn't right; how could it be?! But unbelievably, to every man here, and quite possibly every man in The Empire, it was. It was as right as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. These women were not living beings with feelings; they were playthings, pawns in their game to move upwards, being crushed over and over and expected to smile like they were grateful for it!

"'Haps so but she be a child!" I boomed, "Ye be tradin' her as she be dead flesh! As she be nothin'!"

The room remained silent, and my uncle, somewhat impatiently, looked expectantly at my father.

"Axtapor, enough." My father managed with a frown.

"Ye will no give me orders, pazcox!" I hissed, spitting upon the table angrily, "Ye be right lucky for havin' Egra and Ulsei to look 'fter else I would end ye right here!"

He stared at me in disbelief, and beside him, I could see my uncle rise to his feet with a frown on his face.

Before anything could escalate further, the doors to the council room opened. I looked over quickly, eyes widening, as the sight before me was a wholly unexpected one. Standing just there was my grandmother with my cousin, Lady Idhi, on her arm, each dressed in black. To interrupt council proceedings like this was unheard of, so whatever happened must be important.

"Kastah has died." My grandmother announced with a tremble in her voice.

I set my mouth into a hard frown and looked around at my uncles and father, who appeared mostly unaffected by her declaration.

One might think she'd told them that there was sand upon the ground outside with the indifference they displayed.

"Axtapor, come." She commanded weakly.

"We are busy now. Return later." My uncle said in a flat tone.

I wanted to tear his throat out for speaking to her like that and could see that another one of my uncles, Lord Aphianh, shared my sentiment judging by the look of apparent anger on his face.