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.
