Wesson scratched his head and shrugged. “So long as they do not know the strength of my power, I think I will be okay. I am not exactly their type.”
Malcius exclaimed, “What are you all talking about? Why would you take them and leave us behind?”
Rezkin said, “I told you, Malcius. Women rule in Lon Lerésh. Any woman may claim any man as her consort.”
“You mean as her husband?”
“No, it is extremely rare for a woman to declare a man to be her husband. To do so would mean that she recognizes him as her equal, and he would have the right to claim half her property and engage in business on behalf of the house. A consort has none of those rights. He is her companion, lover, and sometimes champion, but he is not her equal.”
“So, he is her slave?” Malcius said with disgust.
Yserria said, “No, men hold the same position in Lon Lerésh that women do in Gendishen and most of the other kingdoms, including Ashai.”
“It sounds like slavery to me,” he said.
“It does, doesn’t it,” she snapped.
“It is the accepted culture in Lon Lerésh,” Rezkin said. “Men vie for positions as consort to powerful women, conduct most of the activities requiring physical labor, and serve in the military. Men unsuited to physical labor raise the male offspring and perform domestic chores.”
“So, any woman can claim a man. What if he is already taken or does not wish to be claimed?”
“The woman to whom the consort belongs is called his matria. If he has not been claimed, he belongs to his head of house, or matrianera, which would be his highest-ranking female relative. If a woman attempts to claim a Leréshi man, his matria has the right to challenge the claim. The matria may make a financial deal if the exchange is accepted, or she may name terms for a duel. The matria will name a champion, which may be the man in question if he does not accept the claim, and the challenger will also name a champion, usually a male from her household or another of her consorts. The terms of the duel are determined by the matria being challenged. If the challenger does not agree to the terms, she may withdraw her claim.”
“Wait,” Reaylin said. “You said another consort.”
“Yes, it is not uncommon for a woman to claim more than one consort, but more than three is frowned upon, and they are usually of varying stations. A woman attempting to claim too many high-ranking men would be considered greedy. She would lose the support of her peers, which, as we have said, is vital to her staying in power.”
“What if a man wants to claim a woman?” Malcius said.
“It is not permitted. If he has a good relationship with his matrianera, he can request that she approach a woman to determine her interest, and they may negotiate a contract in much the same way as is done for betrothals in Ashai. A dowry may be offered on his behalf. You must keep in mind, though, that if a woman does not desire a man who belongs to her, she may sell or trade him to someone else. The women in lower society often claim many men to use as workers. A woman is expected to provide for her men, though, and his quality of life should be at least equal to his station.”
“But we are not Leréshi,” Malcius protested.
“Foreigners are not exempt from their laws, Malcius, just as they are not exempt from those in Ashai. There are certain agreements, though, to keep the peace. Foreigners can be claimed, but they cannot be forced to stay in Lon Lerésh. Men who are already married in another kingdom are exempt, since their wives are not present to accept the challenge. Also, sailors and travelers cannot be claimed so long as they stay within the designated dock area. It does not matter your station, if you do not satisfy those conditions, you may be claimed. The only exception is royalty. A member of a foreign royal family may not be claimed.”
“So that is why you can go,” said Malcius.
Rezkin glanced at Shezar and Farson. “Perhaps.”
Malcius said, “What do you mean? What is the problem?”
Shezar said, “Lon Lerésh has not recognized his claim to Ashai or Cael. They may not grant him the royal privilege.”
Frisha said, “But he is the son of—”
“That is not common knowledge,” Farson said with a pointed look.
Frisha crossed her arms and said, “Well, why is Wesson unconcerned? Are mages exempt?”
“Um, no,” Wesson said. “It is just that, from what I have heard, I am not their type. They prefer men like the strikers or Rezkin. You see, the women are concerned with status, and the strength and masculinity of their men is most important. I do not exactly fit the profile.”
“Men like Rezkin?” Frisha said. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Fine. If the other women are going, then I am too.”
“You cannot go,” Malcius snapped. “I am your escort, and I am not going to be claimed by anyone! You are staying on the ship with me.”
Yserria looked at Malcius and said, “I am sure you have little to worry about. You heard the mage. You are not their type.”
As the conversation devolved, a thought occurred to Rezkin. He turned to Farson and said, “Why did you return from scouting so quickly?”
Farson watched the heated exchange between Malcius and Yserria, which was shortly joined by Frisha and Reaylin who tried to drag Mage Threll into the fray. He shook his head and said, “Because we are surrounded.”
Rezkin nodded. “Surrounded by what?”
Wesson had taken refuge from the argument by moving to join them.
“Vuroles,” said Farson.
“Lord Malcius is either brave or stupid,” Shezar muttered as he watched the drama unfold. He turned to Farson and asked, “How many?”
“Perhaps fifty. They are difficult to see in the dark. It could be a hundred.”
“Do you think we can wait them out?” Wesson said. “Perhaps they will lose interest.”
“I doubt it,” Farson replied. “They look hungry. Also, something is strange with their eyes.”
“Are they black?” Rezkin said.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“In Gendishen, the ukwa driving the drauglics had black eyes. It seemed unnatural, and the way he threw them against us made no sense.”
“Why did you not say anything?”
“Rule 3.”
Farson sighed. “That does not apply when the information may be important to the group.”
Rezkin shook his head. “It was not important until now, and now it has been revealed.”
Shezar surveyed the darkness outside of the glowing ward, but the light made it difficult. “You think they are being driven? They are enchanted?”
“The Adana’Ro?” said Wesson.
Rezkin said, “I do not believe it is the Adana’Ro, but I do think they are under someone’s influence.”
“What makes you think that?” said Wesson.
“The cat at my feet.”
The others looked down to see Rezkin’s cat sitting patiently as it watched the women berate Malcius. The young lord was not backing down.
“What is your cat doing here?” Wesson said in alarm.
Rezkin looked at him and said, “It is not my cat.”
All of them eyed the creature warily.
“That is the same cat that appeared when the drauglics attacked,” Farson said.
“And I saw it at the plantation, too,” said Wesson.
The cat flicked its tail and blinked up at them without concern.
“Is it a familiar?” Shezar said. “Have you bonded with it?”
“Not as such,” Rezkin said, “but I do believe it is warning us of the impending danger.”
The cat looked up at him, licked its lips, and then ran through the ward into the darkness.
“We should engage them now while we are awake,” Shezar said. “The mages may drop the ward if they become too tired or run low on vimara. If we fight the vuroles now, we will be able to recover while we sleep.”
Rezkin motioned to the group that looked to be ready to draw swords and said, “Very well. It is your plan. You get to break that up and prepare them.”