The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Interpretations

"I imagine the taxes are hard to manage."

"Bona fide ridiculous is what they are, but at this time I can still manage them. Helps that I don't worry about the commerce side of it with my line of work."

"Why stay? Why not go back to Dagobar and not worry about any of this, since it's just you and relocating—"

"I'm sorry, 'back'?" Nightwatch scowled.

"I uh..." Able stalled, then simply admitted, "I assumed you were a Westerman, from your name and education."

Nightwatch was unmoved. "What I am is a Borealunder. Born here, like my parents before me. This is my home."

Able held his hands up. "I'm sorry I struck a nerve. I'm still, uh, learning. Have a lot to learn."

Nightwatch just shook his head and put the kettle on the stove. "I didn't realize Lark Miles of all people was a Separatist. But he does practice Spirits, so I suppose—"

"I don't think he is," Able moved to clarify. "I was, well, the history I've gleaned thus far was mostly from talking with Heedful Fairweather."

"Ahaaa, that makes sense." Nightwatch flagrantly rolled his eyes. "What did she tell you, that Dagobar staged a hostile takeover of the region by allowing the people here to elect officials who then themselves voted to join the empire?"

"Something along those lines. I've been going through the vote records up in Aimsby. I think you're right in that, while not ideal, the council wasn't abnormally corrupt."

"Therefore, as much as the Separatists hate to admit it, most people wanted to join."

"At least half, I'd guess, but..." Able rolled his own eyes back and tried to walk the progression of councilors through his mind, knowing them by nothing other than how they cast their votes. "...actually, even with a conservative margin of error, your uh, non-Separatists would have been the majority. I don't suppose any of your books profile the councilors since the founding of the National Council?"

"I have two that do that." Nightwatch exhaled, the fire settling back into his belly. He made his way around the kitchen, preparing their lunch in silence. Well, that wouldn't do. He had a lot to say when he was angry.

"But supposing," Able started, "as one side might claim of the other, that there was a system in place to ensure that the winning side was over-represented in the process, I mean more than you might suspect, how could that have been accomplished?"

Nightwatch stopped stirring the ingredients he had put into the bowl. Anger sparked, at least. He resumed his stirring with more deliberation than before. "You are, of course, referring to Separatist claims that Dagobari men deliberately targeted Native women with the intent of 'breeding' Native people into submission."

"She didn't frame it like that, quite."

"Then she has mellowed in her old age. Both my grandmothers were Native women, and both spent their adult lives harassed by their neighbors for the crime of loving a man with Western ancestry, one of which, I should mention, was also born here. My parents spent their childhoods plagued with taunts that they were illegitimate somehow or a scourge on our nation. Well, the Separatists can bitch and moan about it, but it turns out that sort of behavior was distasteful to most Borealunders, didn't it?

"Or perhaps not, as now we have 'half-bants', referring to children usually under the age of ten, they're hating on this way. Never mind we've had 'half-bants' like your friend Lark hither and thither for near a century all up the coast. That doesn't matter to these people. They just need someone to blame." Certainly, his pot was well-stirred by this point.

Able nodded to show, well, at least some understanding. "So, in your opinion, it is more likely that the Separatists hurt their cause with these tactics than actually had so many people to target with them?"

"I..." The mayor paused to note that he hadn't moved on to the next step of his recipe and shelved his anger to continue more professionally. "We don't actually keep track of who is 'Native' or not in any formal way, so I can't give you a statistic basis, but as I just said—"

"That distinction is highly subjective and not actually useful," Able quickly finished to show better understanding. "What of education, then? You could argue that the propagation of ideas out-paces that of organisms anyway. Children could have been enticed into ideology by people other than their parents."

"Implausible. Children only gained widespread access to the Dagobari education system as a result of joining the empire, therefore it could not have played a significant role."

"All right." Able leaned against the counter. "So, in your books at least, I should find nothing to support her claims."

"Of course not." He put his concoction on the fire and began to nod his approval until something stopped him cold. "...have you found something that does?"

"No, don't worry." Although it would be nice to back-up Fairweather's story about the threats against Grace Hawking, if nothing more than to justify the time he'd spent looking into the ancient woman's claims. And to not feel so foolishly credulous.

But that evening, as he settled into the bed in the dead woman's room with his selected tomes, he found he needn't have worried. Several of the councilors that shared seats with Hawking were patently vicious players of politics, and Hawking was one of several members that leveled accusations about them to a court that the text itself described as "ineffectual."

Able spent the evening reading the first book, the morning doing some work for the mayor, and the afternoon engaging him in conversation about what he had read. That evening he began reading the second book. As the factual details piled up, it became clear that Fairweather's subjective interpretation of the events was equally valid to Nightwatch's. And predictably, Able developed his own. If the fires fueled Aimsby's fight, the allure of peacetime made them want to put their troubles to bed, their principles negotiable when they could stave off further sacrifice and suffering. Not all fights can be won.