Women's Matters

Author's note: Content note for discussion of sexual consent (low impact). In Dragonspell, it's noticeable that all those who are given a say in what should happen to Perryn due to his treatment of Jill are men, and they all buy into myths that say 'he couldn't help himself'. The only man who finds it inexcusable is Salamander, who is too much in awe of Nevyn's power and position to gainsay him. Romardda would never accept such feeble excuses for Perryn's behaviour towards Jill and all the other women.

Romardda hissed in fury as Nevyn broke contact with her. Insufferable man! She hurled the tankard she had been holding into the fireplace where it shattered, spilling ale into the fire which spat and sizzled.

A tall woman with jet-black hair and dark purple eyes, Romardda was an imposing woman. Among the towns and villages of the far north, the Romardda (a title of sorts passed down between women – no-one knew how) held a status somewhat like that of a wise one among the Elcyion Lacar. No-one could say exactly why that was the case – like the title, it simply was. There was always a Romardda in the north who could treat the townsfolk's ills, and when she spoke, you listened. Some folk whispered of dweomer, but they were quickly shushed.

Standing arrow-straight and wearing well-cut brigga under a typical Deverry dress embroidered with interlace, Romardda's rage only increased the more she thought about Lord Perryn. '"A wound of the soul," Nevyn says. Hah!' A parti-coloured sprite perched on a table in her light and airy inn chamber nodded its head in agreement. 'The old man might be the most powerful sorcerer in all Deverry, but he can still be an arrogant old man. A total fool. Look at me, repeating myself.'

When Nevyn had first contacted her about Perryn, he had merely asked if she'd heard of anyone like him. 'A fascinating subject,' he had said, describing the peculiarities of Perryn's aura and his strange way of ensorcelling and stealing horses. She couldn't condone that, although she could let it go. But then Nevyn let slip that the bastard had kidnapped and repeatedly raped a young woman, and who knew how many others!

She began to pace. 'So Nevyn thinks we should just ignore the hundreds of rapes this pond scum has been perpetrating up and down the country simply because he doesn't understand precisely how he's forcing himself on a woman? By all the ice in all the hells! It won't do. It simply will. Not. Do.'

She clapped her hands together, and a young woman in a neat pair of blue dresses opened the door directly, bobbing a curtsey.

'Madda, lass, could you please ask one of the stable lads to ready my horse and mule, ask cook for a few days of provisions, then come and help me pack? I've a long ride ahead of me and I want to make a start as soon as ever I can.' Madda nodded and went to do as she was bid.

Romardda turned to the little sprite. 'Now, little sister, do you think you could keep an eye on this Perryn for me, until I've seen him in the flesh? Thank you, little one.' She patted it gently on the head, and the sprite vanished.

As Romardda began stuffing clothes and books into her saddlebags, she kept up a steady stream of curses, on Perryn, Nevyn and every dweomerman who had sanctioned this foul injustice. For all his power, Nevyn could be a right dolt when it came to women's matters!

Although she herself had studied with the Master of Aethyr many years ago, she knew full well that she had long surpassed him in some areas – not that he ever paid enough attention to realise, just as he had ignored her when she tried to point out his mistakes with Perryn. The old man wasn't rude enough to act as if she hadn't spoken, not him, but acknowledging what she had said without taking it seriously was almost worse.

Sometimes – and she knew of other dweomerworkers who shared the sentiment – he treated them like etheric servants rather than colleagues and masters in their own rights, expecting them to do his bidding and accept his authority in all things. Perhaps more like a king, with the other dweomerworkers as his vassals, sworn to fealty and obedience. Well, she would correct this mistake at the very least.

It was a journey of some weeks from northern Arcodd where she had been staying to Dun Aberwyn where the wretch was being held, especially as Romardda often had to stay a day or two in a village where there was fever, or a woman had a difficult birth. 'As long as the old buzzard keeps him locked up, he can't be harming anyone else at least.'

As it turned out, however, the delays were more costly than she had anticipated, as by the time she rode through the gates of Aberwyn, Nevyn had already left for Bardek, taking his wretched prisoner with him.

Tieryn Lovyan received her graciously, and offered her the hospitality of her dun. 'Any friend of Nevyn's is very welcome indeed,' Lovyan had said. While Romardda accepted the offer gratefully, and had no shortage of things to keep her occupied – treating the various ills of noble-born and commoner alike, and sharing news from the north with Her Grace – she was impatient to confront this Perryn and be on her way back to her people up north.

The old man's latest escapade had stirred her anger further. 'Chasing after Jill with her rapist in tow? May the Lord of Hell make a ladder out of his bones!' she snarled, but she wasn't truly sure whether she meant Nevyn or Perryn. Probably both.

When Nevyn did finally return in the spring, with Jill, Perryn, Rhodry and his warband, she travelled to Cerrmor to meet them. Under advice from Lovyan, she refrained from confronting Nevyn or Perryn until after Rhodry was safely installed as gwerbret. But she made sure to catch sight of the little wretch so that she'd be able to scry him out.

That night, however, the parti-coloured sprite popped into manifestation and began tugging urgently on her sleeve. As she was alone in her chamber in one of Cerrmor's better inns, she asked, 'What is it, little sister?'

The sprite frowned, then hunched over, arms hanging down awkwardly. She mimed stalking furtively away, looking all around her before disappearing in the shadows.

'Who's run away?' she asked. 'Oh wait, do you mean Perryn?' The sprite nodded a yes, baring needle sharp teeth in a silent snarl. Romardda made a vexed sound. She lit the fire with a snap of her fingers and concentrated on Perryn. His image built up quickly in the flames. She could see him heading towards city gates which she recognised as those to the north, fortunately not too far from where she herself was staying. Stuffing her few loose items back into her pack, she hurried down the stairs, calling for a stablehand to saddle her horse and slamming a fistful of coins onto the table for the innkeep. It was far too much, but it would have to do. There was no time.

As she wasn't trying to avoid detection, Romardda caught up with Perryn easily just beyond the gates, and she stopped him by the simple expedient of threatening to turn him into a frog if he did not.

He stood staring wide-eyed at her. His mouth hung open slightly, giving him the air of such a startled frog.

'Now, you wretch, there's a lot of sense I need to knock into that thick skull of yours, once I've shaken loose all the rot Nevyn's been filling it with, but after haring off into the night to catch your miserable carcass, I've no mind to do it tonight.'

She saw him relax, ever so slightly.

She smiled darkly. 'Don't worry, I'll not have you running off again or slitting my throat while I'm asleep. Nor will any of your little tricks work on me.' She summoned the wildfolk. 'Now, little ones, you see this bad man?' Solemn faces nodded. Some bared their teeth at Perryn, although he couldn't see them. 'If he moves so much as an inch while I'm asleep, you pinch him and slap him, and come and wake me.' Malevolent grins appeared on little faces, and Perryn yelped as one or two pinched him to demonstrate.

'Now, now, only if he tries to escape, mind,' she chided. 'Though he deserves it all, and more.'

The next morning, Romardda made a scant breakfast of bread and cheese, before chivvying Perryn to his feet. 'The first thing we're going to do is return that horse you stole.'

Perryn hung his head. 'Alright. I suppose.'

'You swore to Nevyn that you would stop stealing horses and ensorcelling women, and what do you do the first chance you get?'

Perryn shifted his feet. Her gaze seemed to bore into him, just like that Nevyn's. 'Ah, well, I needed to get away, and, well, I couldn't do that without a horse, could I?'

'There are other choices you could have made that didn't involve breaking your word.'

Perryn winced. 'True spoken,' he sighed.

Once Perryn had handed the horse over to its owner, stammering apologies, Romardda led them west to a spot half a day's ride from the city. She had bought an elderly-looking horse for Perryn to ride. It looked to have a very uneven gait, but she wasn't about to pamper the miscreant.

Although she had guest-right all across the north, and usually lived in relative comfort, she camped out often enough on her travels that spending a night in a meadow didn't trouble her in the least, and from what she'd gathered from Nevyn, it would be better for her prisoner.

When they were settled, with bedrolls spread out and her lean-to canvas sheltering her, she turned to face him.

'I know Nevyn and his "nephew" have been filling your head with talk of sickness and treating you like you've got some sort of plague,' she rolled her eyes. 'But I'm here to show you the true consequences of your actions.'

'Oh, ah, well, Nevyn already told me about that, you see.'

'Oh he did, did he?'

'Yes, well, he said that if I take a horse, then someone might need it, and they might not be able to ride to war, and because I took Jill, Rhodry was left alone and got kidnapped and taken to Bardek. And Nevyn said that what I'm doing is hurting me.'

Romardda's anger flared white hot. 'I don't give a pig's fart what harm it's causing you!' she snapped, and Perryn shrank back as if her anger were a live thing, reaching out to sear him. She swallowed her disgust and summoned calm.

'Those are all true things. But what good is it if you only do what's right when to do otherwise will harm you personally? Now. How about we start with you telling me about what you did to Jill, and to the goddess only knows how many other women.'

'Well, ah, I was wounded in battle, you see, and Jill tended my wound, and she used to take me out riding in the forest, and she listened to me. She's so splendid! And I fell in love with her. I knew it were a wrong thing, her belonging to Rhodry and all, but well, ah, I just loved her so much.'

'Did she give you any sign that she cared for you?'

'Well, she was so kind to me, and I loved her so much…'

'Did she say she loved you?'

'Well, ah, no, she said Rhodry had no reason to be jealous.'

'And did she seek out your company after that?'

'Well, ah, not exactly.'

'She avoided you.'

'I suppose. But if I could just get her alone and smile at her, and tell her how much I loved her, then I knew she'd change her mind.'

Romardda was keeping a very tight lid on her emotions, as disgust and anger warred within her.

'Even though she'd told you right out that she wasn't interested in you, as a man.' She wrinkled her nose.

'Well, yes. Lasses like it when you smile at them.'

'What did you do then?'

'I, ah, I went into her bedchamber, and waited for her, and I, uh, well I smiled at her.'

'What did she do?'

'She told me to get out. So I just kept smiling, and touching her face until she let me kiss her and take her to bed.'

At the flash of utter revulsion that crossed Romardda's face, he blurted, 'But, ah, I brought her flowers and everything!'

'Let me tell you what really happened, Perryn.' Her voice was icy and implacable. 'You stalked a woman who had not the slightest bit of interest in bedding you. You didn't care how Jill felt, or what she wanted. You wanted her, and you forced her to do your will.'

'I never forced her! She was willing!'

'Willing?' Romardda's lip curled in contempt before she could stop it. 'Jill told you she wanted nothing to do with you!'

'But I just knew I could make her love me!'

'Perryn, you forced your will on her. Imagine if I forced my will on you. Suppose I wanted you to serve me, and my smiling at you would make you want to fetch and carry for me, empty my chamber pot and grovel at my feet like a dog. Now. Would that mean you wanted to be my servant?'

Perryn was outraged. 'Of course not! I'd be worse than a slave! At least a slave knows they're a slave.' He thought for a moment, and she could almost see his mind ticking over. 'Oh. You're saying I gave Jill no choice. I made Jill like a slave.'

Thank every god for that! Romardda thought. 'That's exactly what I'm saying. The wrong thing you did? It's got naught to do with Rhodry and Aberwyn, or psychic wounds, or something you can't help because you're not-' she barely stopped herself from saying not truly human. 'Because your magic makes you different from other men. But the truth is, you treat women exactly as Deverry men treat them. And that's the problem. You treat them as playthings and property, not people. And at least other men don't make a pretence of doing otherwise.'

'Ah, stop!' he said brokenly. 'I never treated Jill like that! I loved her!'

Romardda was merciless. 'When you ensorcelled her, did she act the same?'

'What?'

'Was she the same lively lass you supposedly fell in love with?'

'Well, ah, she was a bit quiet, like.'

'So not like Jill at all.'

'Ah, I suppose not, at that.'

'Do you see, now, why you can't go around smiling at women to make them go to bed with you?'

He sighed heavily. 'I do, at that.'

Romardda sat back and considered him. The very sight of him still disgusted her, and she had planned to convince him to turn himself over to Tieryn Lovyan, but a faint dweomer cold warned her. Never had a dweomer warning vexed her more! Then again, execution did often twist a soul further, and she suppressed a shudder at the thought of someone with his powers holding a grudge against the dweomer from a previous life.

She held his gaze. 'Now Perryn, I'm going to show you mercy, not that you deserve it. I'm not going to ensorcel you, because taking over someone's will truly is a wrong thing. But I want you to give me your solemn word that you will never use your smile on a woman again – or a horse, for that matter – and that when she tells you "nay," you'll listen.'

'I swear it. On my life, and on the honour of my clan.'

'Done then. Stay here tonight or be on your way - it's of no moment to me. You can take the horse, and these,' she tossed him a small pouch of coins. 'No stealing horses, either!'

'I won't.'

She opened her second sight, and although his aura was the peculiar colour that Nevyn had described, she sensed no deception there. She nodded.

Perryn yelped as the parti-coloured sprite pinched his arm one last time. She grinned up at Romardda, showing a mouthful of pointed teeth.

'That's enough of that.'

When she woke the next day, Perryn was gone. Romardda felt remarkably cheerful as she rode out of Cerrmor. No matter how much Perryn deserved death, by every law and principle there was, the dweomer omen told her that he had some wyrd to fulfil in this life. Perhaps he would atone in some way for all the wrong that he'd done to women. Mayhap there were others like him that he was fated to teach.

She shrugged. It was none of her affair anymore, and she had important work of her own to return to. Ah, but there was one last matter to take care of before she returned home: Jill. Nevyn had probably filled her head with that same nonsense about Perryn not being able to help himself (ha! That's what they always say!) and she'd need another dweomerwoman's perspective.

She contacted Nevyn through the fire, and to her astonishment, Jill was with him, riding north away from Rhodry and Aberwyn. Jill might need to talk about that too. Romardda's grin was wolfish. The old man would probably not appreciate her interfering with his new apprentice, especially given how many centuries he'd been waiting to bring her to the dweomer, but she would blather on about 'women's matters' and get rid of him for a time. Hopefully, it would be enough.