A last peaceful spring...

I did know that what people had coined as late roman decadence was nothing more than a derogatory idea the teachers and intellectuals of the late 19th century had come up with, while being high on national ideas and ideals. The large canvas full of orgy`s and feasts created by their orders were always there as a warning finger, pointing out what will happen if one becomes lax in public discipline and moral upstanding…the usual conservative things to be honest. But now I ask you: if you have the choice between hiking around in mud and rain or sitting in your own palanquin, carried by two muscled Jaffa, who have to carry you around the whole day from point A to point B…through said mud and rain, while you can relax in your own little curtained chamber, with a reading lamp and lots of reports for you to read through and fill out. At this point I was west of a little village in the eastern ranges of my district, inspecting the fields that were sowed out this spring and comparing my observations with the reports the local Goa'uld and trying to find out not if but where they tried to evade paying taxes. In the end it would not fall to me to get the taxes missing from the village somewhere behind the hill on my left, but my reports together with all others would find their way to Apophis palace archive and be then be added with the other reports from Zipacna`s territories and depending on the difference and the tension between those two Lords, the missing taxes will either be demanded to be paid or…forgotten as a favor between them. With a sigh I look out of my palanquin and look at the freshly turned and seeded field outside of it, watching my five assistants -Jaffa too young or too old to join the currently prepared campaign- under the lead of Lateus, who took care of the scrolls in his hand and also hold the staff, which was measuring the field in the feet size of….no surprise: Apophis own feet….

With a sigh I look down at my scrolls: till now we had five fields, that were nearly twice as large as they were on the papers I had gotten and the scribe working for Zipacna, had only laughed and smiled as I pointed that out politely, before shrugging and riding off again. Sinking back into my pillow, I looked down at my legs and was quite thankful for not having to ride: for a change the Gua'old perception of gender was useful for something…not that I couldn`t ride, I had enough ancestors who did do so at some point or another and my host…..grimacing I shook my head, better not try using her memories once more, it always left me feeling….greasy.

Reaching up I rubbed my temples, pulling my hood over my head once more and shoving my long hair underneath it, before it could slip into my view once more: after nearly burning off some tips when leaning over a candles some days ago, I`m far more careful with it. Lounging back as I only keep one eye on my assistants, I close my eyes and put the ink pot and feather aside, simply breathing slowly in and out as the light rain hits the curtain of the palanquin. My fingertips glide over the scroll and with a small flick I throw some sand over it, drying the ink before putting it aside once more. Tapping lightly on the wooden sides of the palanquin, I leaned outwards and called out:

"Lateus! How many feet?"

My voice carried out over the field and the grizzled Jaffa veteran, raised two full hands three times and then another hand plus one finger, making me nod as I scribble down: thirty-six feet. To be honest: the fields around here reminded me painfully of the towel sized fields in southern Germany and the tiny sized like the field before me were even thanks to the same source: by sharing the inheritance equally between all sons. The thirty-six feet wide field was a good example and belonged to the son of a family, which did not only have quite the amount of sons in each generation, but had seemed to be quite lucky when it came to the war campaigns with enough of them surviving to start sharing the inheritance with each generation. Their family was named Du'jian and was another reason for me to be here: they seemingly had troubles feeding their own family with only the fields in their possession and they hadn`t been chosen by the local scribe of Zipacna to join the campaign…well the sun was settling at the horizon and I gestured for Lateus to come back to me. Taking a last look at the field, the older Jaffa quickly moved back to me, bowing deeply as the assistants behind him started to gather the tools they had used: small stakes, which were hit into the floor and then connected with thick threads that had knots every foot to allow an easier measuring. Coming to my side he bowed deeply and said:

"Lady Anai, this was the last field on this side of the village, shall we return to your mansion for today?"

Thoughtfully looking at the field, I shake my head and then allow a small smile to grace my lips as I lean my elbow on the pillow and support my chin with my hand:

"No…I`m not in the mood to travel this far when it gets dark…why don`t we seek quarter in one of the houses of the village?"

Giving the words a teasing tone was just enough to make the older -you can`t really call Jaffa elderly before a truly Abrahamic age- Jaffa pale, darken and grow red all at once and on different patches of his face: the scares intersecting it thanks to the plasma wound he bore turned the whole process into quite the show. I sometimes did joke or tease him like that, but no one would ever think of this being some kind of friendly banter or a friendship: for one I was never really someone to make friends easily and a few hundred memories, containing chronic backstabbing by everyone around my snaky ancestors did make any kind of trust-building rather unlikely. Furthermore, I was a Goa'uld -no matter how much I loathed the fact when I was left alone with my thoughts and did my best to stop my host from having any- and he was a Jaffa, meaning that he wasn`t simply a subordinate or a colleague, but rather a follower in the religious sense: I was one of his gods and the goddess he prayed to at morning to make his work easier…which was indeed something I could do. For the rest? It was astonishing to see how…. utterly unchanged the working of the world and the perspective of religion truly was, when Goa'uld were not present: things happened because of a godly will in the world and prayers were not answered as punishment or because the Jaffa themselves were unworthy. This did remind someone quite badly of medieval Christianity with the relationship between god and mortal, but at least the presence of said gods stopped them from going overboard with the cult and tries of being seen worthy…except of course of the "god" in question also missed a few cups in his or her cupboard.

"As you wish Lady Anai."

Well it was a bit disappointing that his verbal reactions were always only this acknowledgments, at least his face was rather open for me to read and with a last not I gave him the sign to go…wherever Lateus goes when he`s not around me….theoretically I know he has a family but…when I walked out of my room in the middle of the night to get some water and nearly made the whole household panic, it was him who stood in the kitchen and was already filling a glass from the cistern and presenting it to me on a tablet…so while he most likely had a life outside of my service, I hadn`t seen it yet. With his heavy robe now facing me from behind, I reached up and pulled the curtain close once more: the brighter red cloth at least not being transparent: over all I had this palanquin to work in peace when travelling, not to appear mysterious whenever someone passed by me and saw my silhouette or something silly like that. As I rested my head on the feather filled pillow, I closed my eyes and smiled a bit: after all a nice side effect was the chance to take naps without anyone seeing or noticing it…after all no one would dare to open the curtains while I was not answering or giving them the approval for this.

But it wasn`t like sleeping was something I has as much need for as before. Without clocks being widespread through the Goa'uld fiefs and the measuring of time being left to machines fitting more into human antiquity than a modern space faring race -I do blame the lack of trains-, I could only guess that four to five hours a day were more than enough for me to stay in perfect state of body and mind. Me walking through the house in the morning has become something of an ever repeating horror for the modest staff that had to become used with me suddenly standing in their dorms and demanding some pudding.

Well: I can give up clocks and stiff time tables -the Goa'uld administration also works after the principle of "just in time" only because of slightly different reasons than one might think- , if I only get to keep some sweet deserts. Whichever ancient Goa'uld had the idea of taking some samples of sugarcane with them had my eternal gratitude and if I had to guess I would be sure it would be someone from Yu`s Pantheon. Chulak didn`t really have the needed tropical climate for the cultivation of sugarcane in its more populated parts and the little tin can at my table with the dark and brownish sugar was safely locked with an extra key: not that I would expect any of my staff to be suicidal enough to steal from my little stash.

Another scroll had seemingly found its way into my hands and I didn`t even need to concentrate as I started to fill it out: once more we had found out that nearly 1/12 of the total harvest might have been hide by sending false measurements in and the tax that would be evaded by it was not quite much, but enough to build another mansion like the one I was living in and this was only from my district: all in all it would surely accumulate quite well through the whole fief. Taking another far slenderer feather, I gave its tip a little lick before dipping it into my inkwell and then bringing it down on a new sheaf of parchment, starting to drawn the single hieroglyphs with quick brushes and a secure hand as I started to fill the top third of the parchment with my most respectful and revering wishes for the advisor that currently took care of the tax calculations and most likely drowned under mountains of parchment and had a grudge against all scribes sending them in festering in the depths of his chest. At least that seemed to happen quite often and as such it was only polite and wise to write down every last title and current position the aide had in the court and following this came a simple notice of me having finished the assessment of this year's harvest with the scrolls bearing the numbers firmly tugged away inside of a small sealed chest, that would be send right to Chulak -the capital- with the other reports from all over the planet. Looking down at my fingers, I pull of the small silver ring bearing the bird shaped sigil had chosen for myself and with my now free hand I take a small red strap and use it to close the scroll, finally using the wax of the small lamp hanging my left to seal it.

"Finished."

Nearly at the same time the word leaves my mouth my palanquin comes to a halt and I open the curtain lightly to see us standing before a large stone building, the façade looking at the street with two floors: only the second floor had windows: far above the street and with windows as small and thin, that they were closer to balistraria than anything else. The vines growing on the unplastered walls and the thick straw forming the roof did take some edge of the martial looks the farm had by showing its age and being a sign for the passing of time: houses that double as small fort were more common just after the change of ownership from Cronus to Apophis. Puling the curtain back fully, I step down and pull my cloak a bit tighter, the light rain that had started up on the way running over my face as I walk forward in measured steps and stop before the paneled front door, which was slightly taller than a Jaffa and wide enough for a wagon to enter and exit. As I walked up to it, my carriers and Lateus, who had followed nearly effortlessly behind them even in his age, behind me, I examined the gate a bit. The panels were already quite interesting, but if one looked at the walls flanking the gate, one could see small stone columns on either side. Together with the panels: around a dozen per door with small scenes showing the conquest of Chulak by Apophis of all things, the house was quite an interesting merge of different art styles and cultures the Goa'uld had seeded in their warrior class. But for now I had other things to do: traumatizing the person to answer the gate maybe? With a small smile I reached for the snake head doorknocker and soon my knocks were heard on the inside, as I picked up the sounds of heavy boots moving to the gate. The gate was opened ever so slightly and someone was looking through the gap to see who the visitor was. If the small stifled gasp was interpreted correctly, my appearance in the village as I passed through it this morning wasn`t forgotten and the only thing surprising even for me, was that the gasp came from somewhere around the height of my waist. Shifting my gaze downwards I looked at a twelve-year-old, whose feet were clad in far too large armored Jaffa boots. With my smile widening a little, I let my eyes glow bright gold and he gasps and nearly flinches…but he was well-bred, as he immediately fell to his knees and lowered his head, murmuring something along the lines of:

"Goddess….I…we….the Du'jian family…our welcomes….t-to you…Lady…Scribe…"

Taking the greeting in good humor, after all no one did expect their deity to knock on the front door without warning. I looked down at him with my face set into an impassive mask, akin to the classical ideal, which was still used by the Jaffa when creating statues…and by this formed their idea of just how a goddess should look like. I`m not sure if I got the archaic smile quite right, but it did seem to put him at ease a bit, as his shivering seemed to slowly cease as no divine punishment comes his way: no ranging storm that blew him away (Kara kesh), no Lightning's searing through his body (Zak'nik'tel), no divine retribution scrambling his mind (once more the Kara kesh, only in another mode) or simply imposing armored Jaffa pulling him aside to give him a spanking. The only imposing -if unarmored- and slightly unlegged Jaffa behind me was Lateus, the two palanquin carriers having been send away by me to get quarters with some distant relatives. Keeping my tone firm, I spoke to the boy once more:

"I accept your welcome, guardian of the Du'jians gate…"

The words booming across the courtyard as I had shifted it on once more, the boy once more paling and starting to shiver as soon as he heard it: but I hardly can appear anything less than divine when visiting Jaffa's…more or less officially. I`m not sure if I had been more direct, or if it simply was too much for a child at once, but only after an uncomfortable silence and a raised eyebrow from my side, the boy finally rose once more and quickly noticed what he had forgotten:

"I`m Var'tac son of Martuf and in the name of the Du'jian family I welcome you and…and…"

Barely stopping myself from cracking a smile or even downright laughing at the confused face he was making -clearly in over his head- I had to roll my eyes as Lateus leaned in and hissed in a try to get over this situation without more damage to my divine status:

"…and you are going to open the door."

Var'tac flinched lightly and quickly pulled on the large iron clasps on the inside, as the door swung inwards, my one legged assistant reaching out and pushing it open as I stepped in and gave the boy in his overly large boots a small nod:

"Your family?"

I asked curtly, his eyes widening a little as if he only now seemed to grasp my intend of going inside the house. With another small bow he moved backwards and without waiting long I strode into the courtyard: after all politeness when being a guest was something you only showed your peers: the ordinary Jaffa were far below the Goa'uld after all, just as far as the humans were below them: with some ranks and positions forming exceptions of course. The inner court looked more and more like a medieval – large stones covered in vines and straw roofs- building to be honest: just like the rest of Jaffa residents on Chulak it seemed to bear a rustic style with elements of other cultures mixed here and there. The sparse amount of doors in favor for curtains was also quite interesting, as the doors truly seemed to be used to keep the weather out, while curtains were as much as a status symbol, in their appearance, as they were a way to allow fresh air in and out.

"T-they are eating…my cousin has gotten a bride in a betrothal…my uncle has invited everyone here today…the Zi'viar family is here too and…we were at the temple this afternoon…"

Another perk: you did not have to worry about any brats except those, which are above you in the ranks of the realm, children had the survival instinct to be bearable when confronted with a Goa'uld…natural selection maybe? Still, seems like I at least wasn`t going to go hungry this evening, now in the courtyard the sounds of the celebration -drunken Jaffa can sing just as loud as they can shout when they are sober- was getting more obvious and with a single glance at Lateus, who was still behind me with a stony face of disapproval: most likely he thought I should have a more pompous welcoming, even if they had no way of knowing that I would come, I stepped towards the curtain from which flickering lights and songs were coming out from. The boy was also trailing behind us and as I pushed the curtain open I gave the room a small once over, after all who knew what will happen in a moment?

The room was sizable: 32 feet in its wide and 60 deep with a high roof hold by wooden pillars, which would allow two Jaffa to stand on another and then lazily reach out to touch the ceiling to if they ever attempted something like that. I was looking through the whole length of the hall: its walls adorned by tapestries and banners as proof and chronic of the families martial progress, most of them were by far older than the walls they were hanging from and as such another proof of the Du'jian being a family that had moved or been moved to Chulak after Apophis turned it into his capital. Just below the ceiling were some slits that let in desperately needed air and light: but with the sun already behind the horizon and the night starting lamps were hung up on the pillars and the cool air of the night seeped into the hall, hold at bay not only by the three dozen man, woman and children sitting or standing on long rows of benches and a long table, but also by a large flickering fire at the opposite end of the hall: the smoke rising lazily into the chimney. Thankfully chairs were the chosen furniture in this family and everyone was seated and looking towards the head of the table, were the four most important persons were sitting: in the middle was the young man or rather teenager, who was clad in his armor, with a staff weapon leaning against the back of his seat and holding the hand of the only slightly younger girl next to him. The girl was just as bedizened as her fiancée, dressed in a light violet dress and wearing a crown of flowers, as well as a multitude of jewelry, which ranged from three rings, to a necklace and two bracelets: gifts of the betrothal she now had to wear to show her new statues in life. That this was only the betrothal celebration was good to know, after all the weddings could range from the rather modest and heartfelt ceremony Bra`tac did in the series, to the more…adventurous ones, were the groom had to "kidnap" his bride from her family and she would then have to cut her hairs short and pose as a young boy until they reached his home…at which point both families would be waiting and starting to celebrate in earnest. Flanking the couple in any case, were their fathers, each sitting next to their future son or daughter-in-law.

Here and now everyone seemed to be in a celebrative mood, with the finest ceramic plates and cups having been brought out and set down before the guests, the painted scene of celebration on them a perfect mirror of the celebration happening around them. Celebration which came to a halt as my entrance was noticed. Stepping over the threshold without a worry in my eyes, I let my eyes flash once and the Jaffa quickly scrambled to their knees, some simply kneeling behind their tables and by thus also escaping my view as I remained standing just before the doorway. The singing and talking came to a stop as I waited patiently without a word, the little gate guard and Lateus standing on the right and left behind me as I smiled benevolently, the betrothed and their fathers rushing before me, only to fall on their knees. Their eyes were firmly directed at the ground and only then the oldest of them, white hair already touching his temples, said:

"We greet you Lady Anai in our humble household, you give us great honor with your sudden visit…we did not except…did not know…"

Letting my eyes glow golden once more, I silenced him effectively by this and instead walked to stand before the couple, reaching out and gently touching their shoulders, before saying:

"Rise."

Looking at one another with a faint trepidation, their stiffened and the young man of the Du'jian family replied as the form asked for it:

"Not before a Goddess of our Lords Pantheon."

Meeting his refusal with no change in mimic or tone, I repeat my words once more and reach down to lay my hands on their shoulders: not to help them up, but to show my favor for them and their performance.

"Rise"

With my voice booming through the room a second time the pair slowly came to their feet, their heads still lowered before they both rose to meet my gaze…for a moment before bowing lightly, the young man starting with stiff formality in voice…

"We greet and welcome you at our betrothal Lady Anai, your presence is..is…"

…which held for a moment until he started to stumble over his words, having taken a small peek at my impassive face and that was seemingly enough to throw him off, whatever he had learned to say. Only good, that his future voice shifted closer and took over the rest of the greeting: she did seem quite mature for her age…which was around 16? Maybe more, maybe less…the young man was a year or two older if I had to guess.

"…is a favorable sign for our union and we are honored for our families."

Giving them a tiny nod as only sign of approval, I reach into my sleeves, my fingers slipping two of the silver rings I had on my left hand -just for occasions like this to be honest, as I found them quite obstructing- off and then held out my hands with the palms, each bearing one ring, upwards to the pair. Their eyes seemed to widen for a moment before tentatively reaching out and taking them from my hands, quickly bowing once more as they voiced their thanks. Another thing I only answered with a mystical smile as this was the behavior one expected from a god coming to visit the mortals…well that or I would go overboard and sleep with half of the present visitors. I do prefer the smile.

"The Parent`s should not kneel while the children are standing. I came here to find a quarter for the night and got to see a union that delights my hearth: your fields shall be as fertile as your daughter Ha'rek of the Zi'viar family, you shall need a whole new barn to store the harvest that will grace you today."

The man stood up and both first paled and then brightened up at my "prophecy", which in truth was simply a prognosis based on the numbers in my scrolls -Ha'rek had gotten more fields to work on thanks to his hard work- and a little chat with the weathergirl in Chulak -a "Goddess" solely tasked with watching the instruments measuring and predicting the weather-, whose machines were quite wondrous in their complexity and sadly so underrated that only a few dozen examples of it exist through the galaxy if one is optimistic. While the welcoming committee kept me busy, the real forces of the household -the two wives of the fathers- were shifting the chairs around: putting the two seats of the fathers away from the head and to the end of the sides, while a new table was pushed in between the seats of the couple. With grace I "overlooked" it and started to move towards it as soon as the preparations were finished the couple trailing behind me and Lateus finding a seat right next to the grooms aunt, an old flame of his youth as I later got to know, but for now I found my seat and smiled into the round.

Slowly but surely the talking began anew and after I gestured encouragingly towards one man who had started and then stopped singing with a glance towards me, the festive atmosphere picked up once more with festive songs filling the air and only the occasional fearful glance at me. As it was everyone seemed to pick up on the role I was currently in, more or less subconsciously thanks to their upbringing and culture. As such no resentment was directed at me, neither from the parents who had to make place for me, nor from the couple which was now parted by me. Instead the mood seemed to grow even higher than before, after all a goddess gracing the betrothal with her presence could only be a good sign, or?

Then I found myself with a long knife in my hands and under the cheers of the family the roasts were carried in and the brothers of the girl set down the first before me, the rich smell of flesh and spices making me quite hungry myself. As the guest of honor, even eclipsing the fiancée`s at their own celebration, I was given the privilege to divide meat for everyone and as such I quickly cut into the still steaming beef, the lovely roasted crust cracking under the knife as I started to cut of pieces and spread them out onto the plates for everyone, the best pieces for me and the betrothed, before the next pieces were set out before the parents…then the uncles…cousins…and so on. With a genuine smile I watched the fresh bread and vegetables being brought to the table…

Well…this has been a nice idea and one always has to respect the local traditions. With a look around I leaned into my chair, letting go a little of my posture as I closed my eyes and then started to taste the dishes being brought before us…this might be even better than the horrible wasting at Zipacna`s palace.

Until the next morning at least~