In the Third Riding outside of the fantasy city of DunnisUrom, things are happening and a huge portent moon, the Judgment Moon, hangs in the sky as an ill omen.
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THIRD RIDING: KALVAN
Kalvan sat, relaxed (at least mostly) in the downstairs kitchen of the Matron of the Weatherthrop house. Heather and her sisters were upstairs, tending to her and had brought her food. The woman had cooked a delicious bird of some sort and basted it with a sauce he'd never tasted.
"The recipe's not from these parts," she told him. "Old Kingdom's cooking!" She was enormously proud to show her cooking off to the squire of the Dame Knight!
He had appraised her of Heather's punishment and she seemed well pleased.
"Good! I'm sure the poor thing is feeling very sorry for herself--but of all the girls she's the most given to drawing punishment and she's well of age to learn the more intricate ones. I was like her at her age--sometimes I despised my mother. Often I clung to her! It was my mortifications at her hands that helped me capture my husband, Jasob!"
"What did you think of her namesake paddle?" she asked him.
"It was quite an implement," he said, then: "Has it an art?"
She smiled, wryly.
"A kitchen art, perhaps?"
He shook his head, not understanding.
"The name for an art not done by an artisan but by common folk. Who can say if it works or is just an illusion of expectations? When a child is born, her other plants a tree of a sturdy variety for paddle wood. Water it with sprinkles of her urine--mayhap tears.
When she reaches her menarche, enough wood is taken from the tree to make an implement with her name upon it. She receives it as a gift from her parents and will give it as a gift when she is joined in union."
"Display it in the kitchen or common room where she often is and where it may be remarked on by visitors! It is an implement used only on her--and it is held in high regard by the family and the one whose name adorns it!"
Kalvan nodded, impressed despite himself. "A Kitchen Art, then," he said. "Well, it certainly provoked a fine reaction from her. She seemed to clench herself with each swat, although the burr punished that strongly."
Her mother nodded.
It was then that they heard movement outside: the sound of a massive horse. His mistress had arrived.
THIRD RIDING, RIDING SQUARE : JASNI
According to the Handbook for Tamed Brats, it was important to always pee and otherwise use the toilet before attending a correction service. If denied the use, it was implied that the discomfort of holding one's bladder was intended to add to the corrective spirit. I was allowed to by Emily (who was supposed to be 'Miss Emily,' according to the book--titles were very important when being disciplined). From what I understood, with her looming over me in the out-toilet while I struggled to relax my bladder, she was to escort me across the street to the splinter-enclave wherein I would wait until the purity service began (and I would be assessed and punished)--and then I was to stay in the care of the awful people until she was done arranging for travel.
To say that I was unhappy about this was an understatement but she, and her book, were clear that arguing with her would be worse than useless. She insisted on wiping me which made me blush down to my chest and then got me up.
And... The Moon! I stood, looking up, feeling a jolt of surreal terror at the enormous ghostly shape that hovered above us. It was the morning and things were bright. I'd seen the common moon in the daylight some times of the year--but this? This was dominating the sky above us. It appeared translucent, spectral. Ominous.
"It's a Judgement Moon," Emily told me, her voice showing that she was unsettled as well.
"My father says the portent-moons are just reflections off of the air and sky," I said. I'd heard of the phenomena, but I'd never seen one of these things. Under its oppressive size, it didn't appear quite real--but it also didn't seem to be a reflection. Emily didn't respond to that.
"It's a punishment omen," she said. She took my hand and pulled me across the street from the Caged Cock to the splinter-enclave.
I was placed with six other girls, all of whom looked unhappy to be there. Two were about my age. The rest were older. I could see marriage bands on their fingers. Wives within their first four years, from the metals used. Their husbands must be making them come, I thought dismally. There was another section for boys, and two young men waited uncomfortably on stone benches.
I wanted to ask what the procedure was, but we were admonished not to talk. We were in a small open courtyard off to the side of the main building with a wall around it and I could look up and see the Judgment Moon appearing to fill the sky above our heads. I dealt with this by not looking up.
"You, girl--Jasni?" The voice was feminine and, despite the bruskness of the words, sounded kind to me. An acolyte, maybe a few years younger than I beckoned to me. She stood in the doorway where we'd been called one at a time.
"You ma call me Miss Tassi," she said, with a smile that made her seem entirely too happy. "Let's get you assessed." I was told to remove my shoes and socks and place them in a shelf with many small compartments, a few of which had already been filled.
"You needn't disrobe until you're told to," she said, which was said as if it were meant to make me feel more at ease, but had the opposite effect.
"Your governess explained that you are from the territories and had never attended a purity service before," she said gently. She brought me to a padded bench next to a table and sat me down before taking the seat across from me, as though we were going to dine together.
"Did you pee this morning?" was the first thing she asked. UGH!! I nodded.
"Yes, Miss Tassi," she prompted me.
"Yes, Miss Tassi," I said. I felt my voice betrayed my general feelings about this, but she accepted that.
"The main enclave has a karmic balance," she said, as if I was to know what that meant. "We don't, of course, so we have to get by." She gave me another smile that I thought indicated some degree of chagrin at having to perform without whatever it was she was talking about.
"Let's start here." She brought out a box. It was old and wooden and had the unmistakable carving of a vulva on the top of it. I was blushing furiously when she opened it. Inside was a round stone that fit comfortably in my palm.
"It's not nearly as good as a purity wand," she said, placing it there. "But sometimes one can--oh!" It had changed color, a slight swirl of pink below the polished surface. "Dirty fingers!" she laughed. I feel I must have been bright red as she took the ball, the swirls instantly vanishing in her grip, and placed it back in the box.
"Hmm," she considered. "It can make mistakes..." she hunted in her cabinet and came back with a thermometer of a sort I had never seen. It had the graduated glass sleeve, but the liquid inside was pink, not silver, and the tip was rubber, not metal. "For now, we'll try this," she said. "Open your mouth." I did, and she placed it inside. I sat there waiting while the other "unfortunates" were marched by me. Apparently, they had confessed to whatever crimes they were to be punished for, and thus could skip this event.
She took it out, frowned at it, and nodded. "Boyfriend? Girlfriend?" she asked me.
"No," I said, disconsolately.
The look from her suggested this wasn't the right answer. I was liking her less and less by the moment!
"Very well, penitent," she said, with a sigh, indicating that she was beginning an unpleasant task, "you will go to station 3." She had a 6" square of stiff parchment with a loop of string that she draped around my neck. It said "3".
"Is three bad?" I asked.
"One of our more skilled female disciplinarians is there today," she informed me. "You'll be in good hands."
I took that to mean 'it was bad.' I might have tried to run at that point, but I didn't have my shoes.
I was escorted into a narrow room with pegs for clothes. One of the girls my age and a young wife were there, waiting. Both wore "3" signs. They were naked save for short white thin jackets that came down to their belly buttons. They sat unhappily on the wooden benches.
"... do I have to--" I gestured at the pegs. The older girl nodded and pointed to a stack of folded white jackets. UGH!
I hated undressing before these strangers--but they were both girls, so I did, and I pulled on the jacket and sat. Both of them stared at me--at my region! I realized they were both smooth and hairless; even the girl with the marriage band!
Miss Tassi appeared and clapped loudly. "Stand up, unfortunates!" she called out, and we did. She took one look at me--at my waist--and clucked, disapprovingly. "Naya! We need the hygienist! We've a dirty unfortunate!"
