A Castrovel Adventure: Part 3, Chapter 17

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil u’Zhasaele Zolaemaue be’Son

8. Koelae, 24,542 - Son
Yesterday I sent word to Draue, Nae, and Hanos. After evening drilltide they found me. Heartily I welcomed and asked them to sit duskmeal. We took a board in the mealhall’s bight and sat together. I told them I have come into enough wealth to uphold our flaghouse, and also that I would gladly have them in, if they still so wish. In answer, they all grinned and said they would gladly join. Then first Draue, and then the others, knelt before, took my hand, and swore troth. Each one I kissed, blessed, and swore hearth and wardship. Then we ate and talked a merry tide. Today I again sought Lady-Captain and told that I have three more names for my flag, and gave them. Lady-Captain took and deemed them well added. 
Yet then she asked whether I would reckon another name. I asked whom, whereat she bade me follow, and led from her stallroom.
She led me to the Shota-Barn, where we came among the riders and grooms, and until the far door, where a Korasha was shoveling dung. The Korasha swerved to us, and I startled, This Korasha was not a man, but wifely. Thus Lady-Captain greeted me to Kaure.
Soon as I witted my own startleness, shame burned, for I realized what offthank I must show. I had known some little of ~Rahyathalma~ - Thwartkind Folk, who are few, though the butt of much idle talk in youth, both while schooltide and newlinghood. Along with ~Korashe~ -Wifelykind, who were whispered to be roughly squat and hairy, there are ~Damayas~ -Manlykind, tall, slim, weak, and right wifely-seeming but for the flesh between their legs. Along with these bewritnesses had come wild tales of ~Korashe~ trying to show themselves as men and ~Damayas~ as wives, leading to awkwardness in bedsport, which tales I had ever ataken as too uncanny to hold any truth, forwhy I had known a ~Damayas~ at school, who had been my Elvish loremate.
The riddle at the heart of folk’s unease with these wights has ever seemingly been: does one treat a ~Korashe~ as a better, owing to her wifeliness, or as a lesser for being Korasha? Likewise the same for ~Damayas~: as Damaya better or as a man lesser? Folk rootfully know not how to behave, for they have no rightful, easy stead in our society. Therefore, we unmind them whenever we can, and mock them when we must meet them, as small wrackship from unwillingness.
While I stared and tried to soothe my startleness, at once I beheld another whisper unproven. The tales I had ere heard bespoke ~Korashe~ as ugly freaks: hairily rough-thewed and frightful beards. Yet I beheld Kaure and deemed her not ugly. Surely was she short and broad, rising to my breast. Yet the most whiskers she had was some wispy down on lip and cheek. Green tresses with a cloudsilver sheen were drawn back in a tail-knot over green-freckled bronze skin. Also in no wise would I call her body manly, for smooth and full buxom she showed. Her bosom put even Remaue to wantsomeness, and from her hips I could not even draw eyes. Full round they swelled, like a great mead vat slimming to her waist. She wore rightly enough a breast-halter (eyesomely cut to her size) and a leather warrior’s kilt.
Off thought, I wondered whether this is how the Aslanta ("Hyumanza") Wifelykind look on Blue-Queen - Qolaryon. Whereas Aslanta Manlykind are tall (almost my height), Brand had bespoken their wives as shorter, as almost offmatch to us Lashunta. Would they look like Kaure?
Back to my tale, at loss from my shame, I wracked thought for some wise to make shrift. So I knelt, which brought me down to under her height. Then I took her hand, gave my name, and greeted her so kindly as I could. I scored well when she squeezed my hand, and a short smile ran over her face.
Lady-Captain outlaid Kaure has right ended her newlinghood, wherein she had thewed well as a Shota-groom, and has no wish to go back to her kindred. Therefore, Lady-Captain was seeking a stead for her, and wondered whether my new house may likely match. She asked if I would reckon. I answered we might glady speak.
With Lady-Captain’s leave, Kaure and I left the Citadel and walked down to the harbor. There we bought a sourfish, sat upon a stone in the wreckstead, and shared meal. Yet all this while, following with me, she stayed wordless, which left me the riddle of how to open her. I caught her aswitch between shunning my gaze and slyly watching, though soon I understood. Although folk say I deal well, I know something of shyness. Furthermore, I reckoned she has had few friends whomwith she has trusted.
So I started with ask of what she loved best of her tide in the Citadel. Meekly she answered it is the Shotalashu. Easily I nodded, for it made good thought with her working in the Shota-barn. Then I asked whether she rides. She answered no, though with a queer lilt, almost faltering. Somehow I doubted her answer. So I asked whether she has ever ridden. With some withholdingness she shrove yes, though at the Citadel, she told, she stood forbidden. She had once had a bound steed, but had been made to forgo. This answer befuddled me, for it made no good though that the Citadel would forsake a canny rider.
After we ate, I took her hand and led downflood, toward the Gameyard and the Shota-fields, taking heed to stop by Shotaviras’s Shrine, where we made short prayer and offering. I deemed she would open further without reckful eyes prying. Slowly we unraveled that, soon as Kaure had fulfilled root-drillhood, her overseers had bidden her to groomhood, as she has served ever sinceward. Something in this doom seemed wrong, as if her teachers had not given her right worth.
Of myself, I told that I was lately againcome from the Formian Wars, and erehand had hosted the Aslanta, whomof she had heard, to Candares and Sovyrian. I also shrove her my shame and downsend wrought from Oshis’s strife, which deed caught her mind. I told how my sisters had teased me as a child, for my father being a mere stonecarver, against their own, who had been a wealthy trademaster. I said I was well thankful to be forsaken of the Matrons’ Hall. I had had few friends while schooltide, for many girls had offheld me for being the High Matron’s daughter, and had nicknamed me Shaemore - Warrior-Queen, for they had foredeemed me haughty from my birth. Slowly, while I shrove these whits, she warmed to me.
I asked leave to kiss her. Her hand shuddered against mine, and almost I feared she would bolt. Yet she nodded.
I drew her to a banyan, in whose grove we knelt. Slowly I touched her face and stroked her downy cheek. Then I laid my antennae with hers, at which together we found ~saiahi~...
Though I had uplooked her life’s roughness, I had not foreseen her sorrow’s depth. From her yestermind I caught sightwhits whose heaviness flooded my whits:

A farmwife (Kaure’s mother) yelling at her to never again come.

Arae Elderspear, a drill-teacher whom I knew from my own newlinghood, sneering that Korasha cannot ride, and that if she would not forsake her Shotalashu, they would slay it.

Three Korasha, and men, unlike Kaure, looming over her with unsettling smiles on their faces and blood on their knuckles, and fear overwhelming...

...This last mindwhit showed so fearsomely, and yet also queerly, that I took stock to read. It offbroke starkly, with no end but an odd emptiness. When I sought further, I found a dithercraft overmuddling, an unskilled soulcraft, as one unlearned at the Ihezoshu. I asked what had befallen, though when she faltered answer I should not be forecaught. Reckoningly, I bespoke the dithercraft, and asked whether she wished me to lift it.
A deep, dreadful thought overtook her, as if she half-guessed, and so worried. Grimly she said yes.
Softly as I could, my mind reached forth, cradled hers, and shed her thought’s muddleship. As I did, I peered within what had hidden… I found something so hurtful, so woundful, that shock halted me. It was something I had erenever believed canny, that men could so wrong a maiden, a wrathfulness that in fifty years I had never dreamed.
Kaure broke mind-link. She leapt afoot. Yet in that breathtide ere our link-breach, I felt such wrath and dread as I had erenever witted. Even worse, mindlessly, it aimed at me, even against her better deemship, for right as I had caught her yestermind, so had she caught some of my life: wealth and high kindred, the best teachers, Korasha yielding me worship even in little thoughtless things, and every behoof yielded: all the wants she yearned.
Right then she might have offrun. Yet, even against my shame, I took her hand. By my own soul-strength I refound mindshare with her. Her wrath I took and let overflood. Then I asked her wish that I might do for her sake. 
Another breathtide she dithered. Merely she stared and knew not what to ask. A helpless misforeboding overtook while she strove to make thought of my boon. Then tears burst from her eyes. She faltered, knelt again, and sagged in my arms. Overwhelmed with her grief, I helplessly wept with her under shoulder-crushing unfairness.
At long last, our sobs underwhelmed, and we reckoned each other with clearer eyes. I spoke I would not choose for her, but I would beseech to uphold her, as, rooted under our meeting, I believe Lady-Captain also would uphold. Meekly she nodded. Then I spoke I would have her meet someone. When she asked whom, I told her my wifemate and shieldbearer, whomwith we have a babe. This word lightened her mood. I next added that afterward, if she wish, we may see about her finding a Shotalashu. Here she faltered, as she feared the hurt of another loss. I did not goad her.
As we walked back to the Citadel, at the Harbor-Farthing’s edge she dropped my hand. I bade she should heed no shame of my friendship. Yet she answered that I should reckon shame from her. This word bothered me, though I offbit a sharp thought. Instead, I read that, if she join our house, then all such worry should be offset. She gazed on me and asked whether I truly wish her fellowship. I answered I was strongly tried to ask her right now, but would await my wifemate’s word. This seemingly grew her hope. Against her warning, I walked back beside her.
Ere I wrote this, I came from speaking with Captain Dosuaesh. I had waited all through duskmeal, and then had sought him. I begged to speak alone, whereto he agreed and led me to his stallroom.
On intread, I beheld the stocky elder Korasha, his mere neckband, and the scars upon his arms and shoulders, and even the half-antenna missing: a lifetime of war and hardship cresting in becoming the next-highest captain in the City, and the highest rank a Korasha has ever won. He had earned it hardly, I had heard, by being the lone Sonna reeve willing to serve long years in the Formian War.
I began by telling I had a selfsome question, which he let me speak. I asked how trialsome his livelihood as a Korasha has been. He eyed me weighingly. ~Ayadam kefya. O’toli domi.~ “I have seen hardship,” he answered. “No shirk for it.” I then asked whether he thought he had been treated fairly, as a Korasha reeve amongst Damaya, though I believed I already knew the answer, for I could not unmind whispers I had heard from the Citadel’s wandbearers and flagwives, some few whomof begrudged his high rank against belief that they should own better. ~Dei o’noli veathi eaemi?~ “Have you deemed your livelihood fair?” I asked.
~Vea tha domara eaemara,~ he answered: “Life holds nothing fair.” He acknowledged, however, that, rooted only on his own deedworth, he most likely would never have reached his height, had he not gotten uphold from sundry, more enlightened matrons who had acknowledged his worth, namely Lady-Captain and my mother.
His frankness I took. Then I asked whether he knows Kaure the Shota-Groom, whereat he nodded. I added that he must then know that Lady-Captain had asked me to reckon her as a likely housemate. I told him I would do right and fairly by her, and asked what we would read.
Master-Captain reckoned long. Then he stood near, which, though he is unshort, brought him up to my neckbone. He then boldly reached up and laid hand on my shoulder. He answered that, in knowing me, I should not worry, but that the greatest thing I can do is to listen and understand. Then he bade me good night and saw me out, leaving me with deep thoughts.