“Monta’s embassy arrives any moment. Alongside the governors of Apache and Swede, the various counts and officials appointed beneath them, and whichever ministers have been sent to prosthelytize on the way, some of Monta’s friends and even a professor will be joining them. It presents a new kind of issue which is how we can deter cross-class interaction without any explicit exclusion from either side. They will be coming here together, so the group has already formed a certain way of dealing with the issue. It is our job to assess what that way is, how effective or detrimental it is, and how to immediately impose a new social order. One shall not be shamed for engaging in a pleasant discussion or more hopefully debate with someone of a lower or higher order, but il faut être un faux pas, a social gaffe. In other words, that must be the exception which proves the norm.

  “The staff must serve the rich, but converse with the bourgeois, quick with the one, slow with the other. Additionally, if an official is telling a story, or making a point, do not go near them or interrupt them with an offer of refreshments, whereas if an acquaintance of Monta’s finds themself similarly disposed, attend them closely, and present your food or drink at the highest point of interest. Use your discretion, a well placed distraction can save someone from causing their own destruction, and often the worst thing you can do for an enemy is let them speak their mind.

  “Finally, there is the question of which foods to offer to which people. The answer is quite obvious, the more wine the younger men and women drink, the less they shall inhibit themselves and the more likely they will be to embarass themselves or act in any way untoward to one of our more favored guests. Now to ensure the wealthy remain at least vigilante enough to notice the wiles of youth, add an extra pinch of salt to all that they consume. The purpose of this is two-fold: it will enhance the flavor and increase their desire for food, and it will make them thirst for water, which will slow their consumption of alcohol. I can see you have some sort of apprehension about this whole manner of conduct. Go on, you may voice it.”

  The Duchess delivered these instructions to her head of staff as she rode sidesaddle to the East Kausuth gate, the same unfortified archway where she had met her nephew less than a day ago. She brought with her six carriages and eight extra horses, for whoever might arrive without such means, and she wore a golden dress matching her tan-coated steed creating an atmosphere of easy abundance. Irenaeus, her servant, held the reins of her horse as he took note of all she said, passing no judgement.

  “I fear only for the sake of my personnel,” He began. “If they are told to fraternize with companions of the young master, they will see themselves as permitted to approach him in status. I know my workforce. A small allowance for social mobility will cause a hunger for it which cannot be sated but by a position of governance beyond one’s ability.”

  “The concern is valid,” The duchess explained. “But it is not my goal to break or sustain the natural inclinations of society as a whole. If we are destined to become a society of equals and thus a stagnant one, instead of one of hierarchy and movement, I will not mock the oracle. I simply know that in this pivotal moment at this particular festival, we need to create the most comfortable and exciting atmosphere possible for everyone involved. The means of this is separation, the ends are not societal change. And as regards my servants, I trust you will be able to keep them in line through your particular methods of exhortation.”

  “Yes, my lady,” He bowed and hitched the reins to a post. “Your wisdom proves true as always. Forgive my misgivings and rest assured your security remains uncompromised. I reluctantly take my leave of you to attend such matters as we have discussed.”

  Upon the duchess’s signal, the stern sixty-year old man bowed once more and walked back down the road upon which he came. He called to a valet as he went and began instructing him just as her ladyship had done to him.

  She peered into the distance, the vanguard of her clan about to enter a new phase of its existence. The sounds of laughter and music materialized above the ambience as a large wagon decorated with many ribbons of orange, pink and bright green rose above the horizon. People walked beside it, and spilled out of it playing tambourines, skipping and spinning. They travelled at the dancer’s speed, so the duchess witnessed it for a long while as the wagon slowly rolled along with the songs. Whenever a dancer tired, he or she would leap high into the air and roll as they landed, laying there for a moment before climbing on to the wagon. All who had the legs to leap would dance, and all who had the voice would sing.

  The duchess sighed as they approached. She saw the Count and Countess of Beth Laurena muddying their suits alongside strangers of no notable birth, and Professor Lawrence Higgins setting aside his studiousness in favor of this sacred foolery. “They started the party without me.”

  All the way they sang a song, and the closer they drew, the clearer it became. .

  “Loud and high Leanie rides along the eastern winds.  Currents up and boulders rough she soars upon her wings.  The craggy crooks the rocky brooks she flew across the overlooks and yet she never overtook the mountains of the east.

  And she fell, she fell, tumbling down to hell,  She’d fall, she’d fall, tumbling down the hall.  They’d all file in, the second, third, and fourth,  Tumbling, tumbling down, coming up to the north.

  “Bright and strong Feroiah’s song sailing Kausuth seas,  The hearty hog would chop the logs and tie a hundred trees.  He built his raft a wondercraft and told the storms that they were daft, but perished in the fearsome draft of the Kausuth seas.

  And he fell, he fell, tumbling down to hell,  He’d fall, he’d fall, tumbling down the hall.  They’d all file in, the first, and third, and fourth,  Tumbling, tumbling down, coming up to the north.

  “The sage Livands to cross the sands of desert Anisuth.  Stored the ice of mountains nice within his wisdom tooth.  He brought a lake, the giant snake, from the heat a break to take, but in the end he did forsake the sands of Anisuth.

  And he fell, he fell, tumbling down to hell,  He’d fall, he’d fall, tumbling down the hall.  They’d all file in, the first, second, fourth,  Tumbling, tumbling down, coming up to the north.

  Ange Alacosta actually sang the final chorus along with them, and had she let them pass, they would keep singing all the way to the capital. She needed them to rest the night here, and they needed refreshments, for their stores ran thin. She stepped into the gateway and the wagon halted about ten feet away. The song ended and a final few cheers and hurrahs filtered through the crowd. An uneasy silence followed, they hadn’t heard silence in days. Those Ange didn’t recognize seemed darkened in the face, like grim spectres.

  “How fare thee traveler, given up?” She offered the traditional greeting for the festival. The lordship of Beth Laurena stepped forward to respond accordingly.

  “Travelers we are not, and full of hope we are. Tumbling is our meaning, and we give up to the stars.”

  The duchess breathed easier upon seeing the highest of nobility still picking up the tradition, for change of any noticeable sort was terrible for her. She looked at the count and laughed. “Then we shall roll with thee, and let there be an avalanche!”

  At that, they ran towards each other and heartily embraced. His ladyship met them quickly and the duchess shared a tender moment with her too. After a calculated pause, they turned to the crowd for an address.

  “Fellow tumblers! Join me tonight to celebrate our pilgrimage, rest in my lodging (may it be a pleasing bed), and partake in our fruit (may it be pleasing to your head).” Then leaving aside the formalities, the duchess asked them to hitch their wagon here, and rest their feet and hands riding in her carriages. “And someone must bring me a tambourine this instant!”

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  They acclimated themselves to each other quickly, and the songs carried on even with most of the company in separate carriages. Ange rode her stallion, as did most of the nobles for at this point it was customary to let the servants rest. It also gave her the freedom she needed to converse with all peoples. She began catching up with the count and countess her actual friends. She followed this by addressing the governors of the Kausuth provinces of Vlaydeer, then moved down the ladder, to the viscounts, barons, and lesser governing officials. Each word she said was a chess move, gathering information and pressing one subtly closer to her own ideals. Expressing the half truths and vague gestures natural to her position as a public official. She loved dancing with common folk, but these people were her vocation.

  “You cut quite the figure next to the professor. I am glad he came to chaperone… we have so much to talk about, how are the boys?… I must here the story of the man in Greolla again, tell it to us when we arrive,”

  She skipped over the ministers, as she had a special desire for them, and went inside each carriage to learn who Monta’s friends were and how best they would fit in. Most of them were smiling and rubbing their tired feet.

  “Are you enjoying yourselves? It seems you learned the songs well enough!” Most of Monta’s guests had only heard of the festival through him. They heard free food, drinks and merriment, and the chance to travel the world, and they set aside their misgivings about the “Vlaydmir cult,” as they had heard it. Afterall, if Monta who had given up the faith could still celebrate the ceremony, why couldn’t they?

  One brave contrarian spoke and asked a question that had been lingering in his mind. “Thank you miss, for the ride. We have walked around twenty miles a day for eight days, and with all the singing and dancing, we have not had any rest either. Why must the festival be so strenuous to us?”

  The duchess knew this to be a set up for an argument about the legitimacy of the spire, and answered despite herself. “It is a reflection of the great efforts of the four giants of old. They challenged God, by trying to overcome the boundaries he had set for them. All things on earth bent against their strength, and so they would have easily ruled over us, but He saw fit to place avarice in their hearts, and lead each of them to their own demise. We celebrate how our own avarice will also break us, cause us to tumble, if you will, and so bring us painfully closer to that which was right.”

  “A fine myth,” she had expected him to say as much. “But doesn’t it just place arbitrary limits on us? Imagine if we could sail beyond Kausuth’s seas, fly higher than the eastern and western mountains, or trek through the fiery desert. Think of what we might find that could enrich the lives of everyone around you. My professor still remembers the time when trade was established with Anisuth Romell, and the influx of salt and spices.”

  “You think us fools in our festival of foolery!” She rebuffed. “Perhaps if you fall, you will join us in earnest.”

  She quit the carriage and moved on to the next. In some she found only servants, she could tell because they all quieted as she entered. In others she had similar conversations, doing her best to limit the debates until all were settled. She took a moment to admire the sky and the spire in it, then she frowned considering what the others thought of it. So much confusion, so much misinformation. But it stood strong, declaring the blatant truth of the Vlaydmirs’ great responsibility.

  “Have you seen the spire yet?” She said entering the final carriage. “It is breathtaking this time of day. It looks to be very partners with the sun,”

  A young man answered him with a bright smile. “Ever since my childhood years in Khalluth I’ve wanted to see it. I passed it travelling to Halloughinn, and I haven’t been the same since.”

  This was a man that spoke Ange’s language. “A Khalumir! My lad, from where in the country do you hail? We have a ministerial acumen under our house, you must speak with her. She is a Khalimir as well,”

  The man’s face fell at the mention of ministry, and he grew hard. “I suspect we would not get along very well. I do hail from Khalluth Aurea, but I do not worship the spire like you. I merely admired it for its beauty as a natural landmark.”

  “There is nothing natural about the spire at all!” She spoke before she thought. Then catching herself, “but I can see how you and my nephew would get along. What shall I call you?”

  “I am Ferrick Anasta, son of Bruick Anasta,” Ferrick answered proudly, though his name gave Ange no sense of importance. Seeing as this was the first friend of Monta’s who displayed a proper sense of awe for the authority of beauty, she wanted to test him more properly, in order to see if a friendship with Monta would be valuable. She also knew not to push too hard too early, and chose her words carefully to quit the carriage in a positive but poignant light.

  “Well now, my dear Ferrick Anasta, you have seen it like your compatriots haven’t, and have recognized in it a modicum of its greatness. I will not ask you to see anything beyond that, nor will I ask you to say or think in a way which you cannot. If you meet Marienna, our acumen, I am sure you will find her to be in every way agreeable, in spite of your differences. If chance will not allow the meeting, at least you have graced us with your presence and my dear nephew with your friendship. For now, you may consider me your faithful servant. If you have need of anything, you have but to ask it and I will secure it for you to the best of my ability.”

  So Ange left the carriage having found one friend to hesitantly endorse, and a large number of men and women to leave in the hands of trustworthy Vlaydmirs nearer to them in social rank. She had now spoken at least a word with everyone of worth except the professor and the ministers, and though she had worked speedily, and the horses set to walk, the distance to the lodge was not enough to allow her to speak as she willed with everyone.

  She rode forth and turned to give another customary speech, and summoned Irenaeus to direct everyone. The duchess needed to block off four homes normally delegated to the farm hands, and many had to sleep in makeshift beds packed like sardines. This would have meant careful planning of who would sleep in which house, considering social rank, social dynamics, physical needs and abilities, countries of origin, and even aesthetic preference, but as Monta insisted upon bringing friends, they had no idea who might attend, let alone all the peculiarities of their personalities. This meant she had to decide now where everyone would stay, and signal to her staff in secret.

  “My friends,” She strained her golden voice like an opera singer to catch everyone’s attention. “Your dutiful servant expresses her sincerest apologies as I ask you to wait just a moment longer. You have blessed us with such a multitude of people that we must adjust our accommodations, but fear not, for while there is a potential shortage in space there is an actual abundance in food and drink!” Cheers came from several of the carriages, and the duchess tapped four fingers on her servant’s shoulder and nodded toward the mansion behind her home. “To those of you who are unfamiliar, you may approach faithful Irenaeus for direction, he will bring up shelter from the very dirt if the needs demand and nothing is out of his reach.”

  This man from whom nothing escapes his vision understood clearly that he was to offer everyone in the fourth carriage lodging with the family, as well as those particular nobles who typically reside with the Alacosta family. Even as they poured out and mixed together, Irenaeus kept as close track on them as if they had all been painted bright red. He filtered them to their assigned places through his own system of servants, gracious and obsequious, but firm in his direction.

  Professor Higgins at this point noticed that his students were being separated. Standing forcefully, he pushed up his glasses, twirled his moustache and marched his way to the head of staff with a fire in his eyes. The sharp duchess used this as the perfect opportunity to introduce herself.

  “Ah, you must be my dear nephew’s teacher!” She eclipsed Irenaeus and intercepted her target.

  Very disgruntled, the man spoke looking straight past her, poking his head around this way and that. “I must be with all of my students, we must all be together.” It seemed he could not be consoled.

  “I’m sorry, but the homes we have set up would not fit all of your students. I am sure I could perform, for the students any duties you require, I will house them in my very mansion.” The duchess responded courteously.

  “That simply will not do. How am I to trust a woman that I have only seen for a minute with the well-being of my students. This is to be an educational expedition to better understand your culture, and if anything happens to the students under my care the university will remove me from tenure!” He shouted at her, drawing the attention of others.

  Irenaeus stepped forward, but Ange held out a hand to stop him.

  “Professor Higgins, I can assure you –”

  “Assure me that all my students will share one roof, I don’t care if we sleep on top of it! If you have to install and extra wing tonight, I will keep my students safe!”

  He spoke with such impertinence that he embarrassed his own students, and the nobility began to question the duchess’s wisdom. She cleared her throat in the following quiet.

  “I see I have upset you.” Her words portrayed the apology, her voice was unmoving. “It is a hard thing you ask, for any host, but we will make it work. Know that I had no intention of endangering your honor nor your position. Though nobles you will have displaced will surely delight in helping you, mind what you say and who you inconvenience.”

  Still fuming and unable to take the warning, or perhaps unwilling to be threatened, he went on. “You certainly have upset me, and my students. All this time we have been subject to your beliefs day and night, and it is all that we can to maintain a sense of unity and purpose. We will not be split and converted, and you will not let those ministers into our quarters either, unless you wish our whole sociology, epistemology, and psychology erased.”

  “Professor Higgins!”

  The whole crowd stepped in almost at once. Ange spoke with anger, but a smile ran across her face, for though she had given ground, she had won the interaction. She did not need to appeal to the personhood of the ministers, their shared humanity. She did not wish to convert this man, but to sway the crowd and pull those who already bent her way closer still.

  “Professor Higgins, you must mind what you say. I shall again grant your request for all but one mistress, the novice Marienna bar-Alacosta. She will take her rest in the basement cloister in solitude, and if one faithful house servant is enough to overtake the ideals of your entire class, then so be it. Irenaeus, where is our dear Marienna? It will be time for her ceremonial rites soon, and I believe the professor will desire to meet with her. And has anyone seen Monta, let him know his friends have arrived!”

  It was related to her that Mariana, Firth and Monte had all gone on a hunting trip and had not returned yet, but that the husbander had given the signal for end of the games a short while ago.

  Irenaeus worked speedily, cutting swaths into the crowd and furiously scratching instructions onto parchments, handing them out to anyone regardless of rank or order. Through the shouting of names, and the carrying of bags, and the confusion of those foreign into the festival, and the frustration of those familiar to it who had to change their habits. The chaos died down and the crowd shrank until the Duchess was left only with the happy cluster of ministers.

  She drew them aside to a grassy field where she subtly distributed funds and expressed her intentions with the Festival of Tumblers.

  “Pray as mighty as you can,” she told them. “For as much of a miracle as you can manage. Any sort of magic or trick you can conjure will be welcomed with praise and stories of it will spread among the unbelieving like disease. And of course, let this be one of the most foolish festivals in the history of Vlaydeer Aurea!”

  As she said this, she was met with whoops and hollers, and cheers of all timbres. Ribbons flew, and chants recited. One woman drew small flasks of oil from pockets hidden in her outer garment, another brought waters and perfumes. One man brought out a portmanteau with full sized puppets of a pig, a snake, a raven and a man made of paper and balsa wood. With a flourish and a flick of the wrist they spun through the air like a child’s mobile.

  She hushed them once more and grew very serious.

  “Do not fear, for fear is the enemy of faith. Do not lose heart if your supplications do not yield the harvest you typically expect. There is a certain presence here which produces a dampening effect on your ability to fully commune, I know because my own ministerial acumen told me of it. So be wary not to let it discourage you.”

  Some of the men and women looked at her like she had told them to watch out for unicorns in pajamas, but some gave her intense expressions and packed their things away to prepare. With that, she left them to their devices, and went to reconvene with Irenaeus.