Dweomers & Domination: Droit du Seigneur
Ab initio
I sat in my chamber and tried to recall how I had gotten into this mess.
In a way it all started with the way I got this position. The country was in a mess; even more than usual, I mean. Orcs, demons, rebellion, civil war; everyone who could swing a sword picked a side and went hacking. Pretenders to the throne came and went like mayflies. When the dust settled, seems we had picked the winning side. Maybe even had done a few things to make it the winning side. Now personally, I wasn’t expecting more than a bag of loot; at most a couple of wagonloads. But it seems loot was in short supply, while responsibilities and noble titles weren’t. So suddenly here I was, Captain of a hundred troops and Baron of this gods-forsaken northern border province, far away from the capital, and all of my friends similarly spread from here to tarnation, trying to hold the country together while it recovered. I asked Prince Osric—Prince, that was a laugh, just a few months ago, he was just another sword swinger with delusions of grandeur—what had I done to deserve this? “Because We need people We can trust in positions of power,” Osric had said.
“Well, couldn’t I at least have something a bit closer to civilization?” I asked. “How about a guild or court appointment, like a few others of the gang?”
“No”, the bastard had said (and bastard was the technical term, which was why he was a Prince now), “you don’t do well with complex politics. You’re better off where you can act on your own.”
“But running a barony? Leading a company?” I had asked. “I’m no administrator or military leader!”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Sanduran,” Osric had said. “People like you. In this place, far away from the capital, that’s half the battle. We can’t count on their loyalty to the Throne, especially when their last Baron died supporting one of the other sides trying to seize it. We have administrators and military leaders, you’ll get a lieutenant and a sergeant, and there is still a mayor of some kind. We need a man who can hold the people’s loyalty, and that man—you—to be loyal to Us.”
He got himself a bit of gold on his helmet, and he got that way, “We” this and “Us” that. Others thought he meant the King as well as the other Princes. I knew that in his mind he was really speaking about himself in the third person. Bastard.
And frankly the barony and captaincy weren’t so bad. People really did like me, and the ones who didn’t, respected my office, and the ones who didn’t do that, were afraid of the troops, who generally did as they were told. Seems the last Baron of the place was a right bastard, this time not in the technical sense. He ruled by fear; anyone got out of line, they and their whole family got a few days in the torture cells.
I got a lot of credit just by opening the castle dungeons, letting out the poor wretches that were still there, and holding a public bonfire of the torture equipment. The mayor that the baron had left behind in charge was hardly better. I asked around for the local rules on such things, gathered evidence, and held a public trial, with a jury, after which I had him hanged with the worst of his cronies. That was amazing, it was like no one around had ever seen a trial before. Which maybe they hadn’t, the old baron had tended to hand out justice that looked a lot more like what he was feeling at the time than anything that the law had said. Even if he had written much of the law himself.
After that it was like I could do no wrong. People smiled at me in the street, and bowed like they meant it, and when the gentry and richer merchant women saw that I was single and handsome, they added a wink to their smile, and more. Something I could get used to.
The one thing I couldn’t get used to was the weather. Cold, all the time. Snow that never melted a few hours ride up the mountains. The only colors were gray rocks, white snow, and the brown and green of the pines. The locals said that there was a short growing season in the summer, but that would be months away. I missed the colors of the south. I had the caravans bring up potted southern flowers for me. They died, but what was the point of being the baron if I couldn’t indulge myself a little? I was down to one orchid now, and it wasn’t doing well.
I lost the lieutenant in a skirmish with the local mountain barbarian clan, so that left the sergeant, Doran, a woman who had served the old baron. She was one of the last group, who didn’t fall all over themselves for me, but did as she was told. She had treated the old baron the same way; neither his torturing people nor my being nice to them affected her one way or the other. She was tough as nails, in every way. So one day when she said she had a favor to ask me, I was willing to hear it.
She asked me to meet her in the barroom of the Dragon, the local inn. This was one step above the places that called themselves taverns, but served much the same purpose. The men with more than a few silvers to spend could normally be found here spending them, so the sergeant made it her duty to at least stop by most nights to keep them from getting too rowdy. This time she sat with her corporal, and invited me to join them at their table. She said she couldn’t tell me what it was about until closing time, so if I’d sit and drink the weak southern piss I called wine until then, she’d be obliged. They were drinking ice wine, in the northern style, which was left in the cold until the water froze, then the ice drawn off, until what was left would drop a bison in its tracks. To my taste, the freezing also made it taste like swamp muck, but to each their own, I guess.
Sergeant Doran was around average height for a woman, but looked shorter due to her broad shoulders, and being around big men all the time. Her features might have once been attractive if she had cared to work at it, but she went out of her way not to. Her brown hair was cropped short to fit under a helmet. Even in civilized places, like the inn, where weapons needed to be checked at the door, she didn’t go in for fashion, and was wearing army-issue brown leather that clearly showed the marks of the chainmail she wore over it in her preferred environment. It was cut for a man, but that was all right, since Doran was built straight and solid, with no hips or bust to speak of. What little skin she exposed was sunburned and either calloused or scarred. One scar at the corner of her mouth twisted her lip into a permanent sneer.
Her corporal, Lovisa, was a story in herself. She was a genuine barbarian princess; daughter of the clan chief that took my lieutenant’s head. It would have been a lot worse then, and maybe I wouldn’t have been telling this story now, except that somehow the sergeant made her fall in love with her. Yes, true romance, just like the bards tell. Princess Lovisa left the tribe, and joined the troops, as a corporal under the sergeant—all very irregular, but I wasn’t going to complain. Princess persuaded daddy to make peace, and even give back a fort the barbarians had taken when the old baron left it understrength to make his try for the Dukedom, if not more. I was sending them back with twenty men to garrison it again in a few days, so I suspected the favor had something to do with that.
Lovisa was beautiful. She usually went in armor that showed her form, and it was a form worth showing. The princess was tall for a woman, with long lush softly curling golden blonde hair over smooth skin that had never been marked, despite her love for swordplay, and dark blue eyes under long lashes. Her breasts were amazing, large and firm, her waist was tiny, and her hips were curved in just the right places. Her arms and legs were muscled, but smooth. She looked like a goddess, and that had caused trouble when Doran had introduced her to the men as their new corporal. They were used to taking orders from Doran, but the sergeant didn’t look or act like a woman. Lovisa was a barbarian, just recently one of their enemies, who had quite possibly been involved in their lieutenant’s death, in addition to being beautiful. They had been insubordinate to the verge of mutiny.
Sergeant Doran’s solution was the one she usually chose, intimidation and violence. She handed out punishments left and right, which only made the men resent Lovisa more. But then the princess persuaded Doran to let her handle it on her own. She told the men that she was one of them now, and to prove it, any one of them that could beat her in fair combat with blunted weapons she would sleep with. There was no end of volunteers. Lovisa faced them all, one at a time, and beat them all. She might have been helped slightly by Doran knowing the men, and ordering the strongest when the princess was fresh, and the weaker ones when she had tired, but still, it was astounding. She beat each one respectfully, without shaming him, though it was soon clear that she could have ended many of the contests much faster; she parried every blow until the man tired, then defeated him quickly and efficiently, either by multiple blows that got past his guard, or by disarming him. The ones that didn’t know when they were defeated and kept going, she hit harder and hospitalized even with the blunted sword.
She won their respect by that combat, and their love by what she did afterwards. The lieutenant had also been the company cleric, so without him there was no magical healing for the injured, as the sergeant refused to let them use up the limited supply of potions for a mere training exercise. So Lovisa visited the men in the infirmary every day. She bound their cuts, splinted their fractures, and treated their injuries with mountain herbs that she had gathered that made them, if not heal faster, at least ache less. The men had not been used to that kind of treatment from Doran; her style was more scorn for the weak to make them strong. The ones who were well enough to fight, Lovisa trained in single combat. Sergeant Doran had taught them military fighting, as a group, with locked shields and leveled spears, but Lovisa taught them barbarian style, one on one, with wide spaces and two handed blows. They still couldn’t approach her in combat, but the best ones were very proud when they could made her sweat. When the men in the infirmary had healed, the troops still followed orders from the sergeant, whom they respected and somewhat feared; but they would die for their corporal, whom they loved. I approached her one day in private and offered her the lieutenancy. She refused. She said that if she had wanted power she would have stayed with her people, where she was the princess. She gave up all that because she loved Doran, and she wouldn’t risk hurting Sergeant Doran’s feelings by becoming her superior.
Here in the bar room, though, Lovisa was in a soft grey cloak that covered her from head to boots, that she held closed in front of her. Underneath it, she seemed to expose even more skin than usual in the brief glimpses afforded as she reached for her goblet, before she would draw the cloak it closed again. Neither of the women spoke much. Doran looked tense, and drank as if she wanted to avoid thinking. Lovisa smiled at me shyly when Doran wasn’t looking.
The inn’s pretty barmaid was one of the reasons it was considered the best tavern in the city. She was a small, thin, platinum blonde, soft-voiced, willowy, graceful, and pale as snow. I’d have thought she was an albino, as I had seen a few in the south, but for her bright green eyes. The people here in the north tended to be light, she must have been a more extreme version. She was good at her work, seeming to be everywhere at once, smiling at the customers, and expertly avoiding the occasional pinch while taking their money to the innkeeper and bringing back their food and drinks, somehow leaving no one waiting long. My glass especially stayed filled, though I never asked for it to be. She was named Xuza, and she was a foreigner here as well, though clearly not a southerner from her looks. She had come to the city not long ago, after we had, and had already made a reputation for herself by keeping to herself; she didn’t date any of the customers, or, for that matter, any one else in the city, though the offers were many, including one from Doran, before the sergeant had met her barbarian princess and stopped playing the field. This coyness was rare for an inn hostess, and some of the customers came to the tavern just to make a pass at the “virgin barmaid” as she was called. She innocently flirted with them all, but turned them all down.
Customers drifted out as it got later. Surely it was closing time, but the innkeeper wouldn’t drive out the last stragglers, just kept glancing in my direction and smiling obsequiously. Xuza drifted from table to table, seeing off the last stragglers, but avoiding us. I realized the issue; the innkeeper wouldn’t close the bar as long as the baron was here. “Closing time, time to go,” I said to the ladies, getting up. Lovisa stayed down, and Doran held my arm. “We stay,” she said. I sat.
The innkeeper had a whispered conversation with Xuza. The pale barmaid whispered something back, looking up into his eyes, and he relaxed with a gentle smile. “That’s all right then. Close up. I’ll leave you to it.” He wandered upstairs, wearing a slightly dazed expression.
That left only the four of us. Doran got up and checked the windows and doors, looking out each one, then shuttered and barred each. I looked at Princess Lovisa quizzically, but she held a finger to her lips, waiting for Doran to rejoin us. Xuza the barmaid closed all the interior doors, then walked over and sat at our table. Finally Doran was satisfied. She came back, reversed her chair, and straddled it, facing me.
“Lord Baron,” she said in her usual rasp. This was different, she normally called me Captain. “We have no cleric in the city, and the troops will be going to garrison the fort soon, before another cleric arrives from the south. We’ll be leaving for a month, going into danger. Before then we want to be married. We need you to marry us.”
“What, you’re proposing to me? All three at once?” I asked, grinning.
“No!” Doran scowled. She had no sense of humor. “I proposed to Corporal Lovisa, and she accepted.” She held the princess’s hand in her own, who smiled. “Xuza wants to marry Private Anfeald. By the laws of Wintervale, as Baron, you can perform the rites.”
“That’s wonderful!”, I said. “I’ll be glad to. But why the secrecy? I’d think you’d want to announce it to the world. Isn’t everyone knowing about it the point?”
“There’s one more thing,” Sergeant Doran said. If anything, she was more grim than usual. “You need to perform the Droit du Seigneur.” She mangled the pronunciation terribly.
“The what?” I asked.
“Droit du Seigneur,” she repeated. “By the old baron’s law, he slept with the all the pretty brides who were to be married in Wintervale.”
The silence was deafening.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, when I realized she meant it. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Why?”, asked the princess. “Don’t you think we qualify?” She threw back the hood of her cloak, and golden curls spilled forth to cover her shoulders. She pushed her chair back from the table with her leg, showing a well formed and naked thigh above her boot. Then she unpinned the cloak at her throat and threw it back from her. She was wearing a thin chainmail bikini that barely held in her magnificent breasts, and draped like a thread over her loins, but was otherwise naked under her cloak. She was magnificent, and she knew it. My cock rose immediately, tenting my breeches, and I blessed the table that covered my lap.
When I got my breath back, I said, “The old baron was an evil man, and that is an evil law. If it’s still on the books, we’ll remove it. I’m not going to have rape in my barony, and I’m not going to force myself on any woman.”
Doran sneered; her usual expression. “Did you notice we’re telling you about it? You’re not going to be forcing anyone. We want you to do this.”
I realized she was right. I needed to listen more and speak less. “Why?”
“Because of Lovisa’s oath,” Doran rasped. “You know she swore an oath to a goddess never to sleep with a man who had not defeated her in fair battle. No man ever has.”
“I guess since you’re a woman, that oath didn’t apply to you?” I asked.
“Oh no,” Doran said with her twisted grin. “I beat her in fair battle. She’s mine by rights.”
I looked at them, the princess a head taller and broader, the sergeant older, tough and wiry, and tried to imagine it. The sergeant went on.
“So Lovisa has never known a man, and after we are married, naturally never will. But she’s been brought up to think that being with a man is what women are made for. She is curious, and I do not want that curiosity to eat her up inside. I want her to know that sex with a man is not a big deal.”
I sniffed. A man with a less healthy ego might have thought she meant she chose me because I would be an unimpressive sex partner. Surely not. “Why me?”, I asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?”, the sergeant sneered. “You’re the baron, and the captain. The men respect you, and don’t think they’re your equal. If she slept with anyone else, the men would think they had a chance with her again. Instead we can say it’s the law, and they’ll accept that. You’re ‘honorable’”—she said it like it was a character flaw—“we can trust you not to cross the line and not harass her after this one night.
“Finally, she has a crush on you. You’re not like the other men she’s seen. You’re a southerner, tall and dark, while the men here are broad and blond. All the rich women here throw themselves at you; I know it’s because they want your power and prestige, and would fuck anyone who was the baron, but she doesn’t. You wear more perfume than some of the Broad Street whores, she’s not seen that either. She respects you because you’re kind to the weak. She thinks those twig-thin arms of yours are elegant. She has a crush on you, and I want it settled before we marry.”
I sniffed. That was not true about the perfume, I only splashed a little aftershave. I looked at the princess, and was surprised to find her blushing. Lovisa could wrestle a grizzly or face down a hundred tough soldiers without batting an eye, but here she was with her cheeks and chest burning red, and unable to meet my gaze. She turned her eyes away from me, but kept her arms gripping the arms of the chair, so I could continue to admire her form.
“I’m flattered.” I said. “And you, Doran? You have never known a man, have a crush on me, and want me to sleep with you as well?”
“Phaugh,” Doran spat. “I’d sooner fuck my horse!” Then she remembered whom she was speaking with. “Begging the lord captain’s pardon. I merely meant that I don’t like men, not anything against you in particular. I’ve known men enough. Fortunately, I don’t qualify as a pretty woman, I know, so you won’t be obligated to sleep with me, and I fervently hope you won’t want to.”
“Ah,” I said, and turned to the barmaid, who had remained quiet. “And you, Xuza? Have you also never slept with a man, and want to know what it is like before marrying Anfeald?”
“No, the exact opposite,” the small platinum blonde said in her soft voice. “I have had sex with a man, to my regret. I’m pregnant. Anfeald doesn’t know, he thinks I’m innocent. He has only seen me here, rejecting the advances from the men in this bar. That’s one of the things he loves about me. Knowing he wouldn’t be my first, especially knowing I’m bearing another man’s child, would kill him. Even if it didn’t, he’d tear himself up looking for the father. I’d make him believe it was his if I could, but … it could turn out to be a dark baby, and he’s blond, and I’m pale, so he’d know it had a southern father. You’re a southerner, and he respects you, and he knows about the baron’s law. If he could accept anyone else being with me, being the father of my child, it would be you.
“I hope you don’t mind. I know you’re good, and kind, and I know I’m asking for a lot, but I hope you’ll do it. Maybe you’ll even enjoy it, some people think I’m also pretty…” She trailed off and looked at me, blinking her emerald green eyes under long white lashes like snowflakes.
From bad to worse, I decided. I looked around to check if anyone had anything more to say, but no one did. Princess Lovisa had recovered from her blush, and when she noticed me looking at her again, smiled, pulled her shoulders back and thrust her chest out enough so her breasts nearly overflowed her skimpy brassiere on all sides. I realized why it had to be made of chain mail: otherwise it would have burst. My cock swelled in my trews. I had to wait to catch my breath again, then I spoke, looking at all of them at once.
“No.” I said. “I’m sorry, but I won’t. You say you’re asking me to sleep with you because you respect me, and I’m very glad of that, I’m proud of nothing more than that the people of this barony respect me. But this Droit is an evil law, and if I use it, I won’t be worthy of the people’s respect, and I will lose it. Even if you and I know I’m only doing it because you asked, they will think I’m raping you, and will think me no better than the old baron.
“Lovisa, you’re a stunningly beautiful woman, and I’ll be glad to sleep with you, I’d be honored to be your first and only man, and I hope I can make you enjoy it. I have been told I have some skill in these areas, and not just due to being Baron, whatever Doran hears. My bedroom is open to you. If you think that will make the men lose respect for you, we can try to keep it secret. But I won’t pretend to them that I’m forcing you to this. I’d love to have your body, but I won’t betray the company or the barony for it.
“Xuza, you’re also a beautiful woman. But I won’t cuckold Anfeald, openly or in secret, and I won’t help you lie to him, even if you think this will be better for him. He’s my soldier, and I won’t betray him. Tell him the truth, it’s your only way. You slept with another man, and are bearing his child, it’s who you are. If he can’t deal with it, then he’s not right for you.”
I looked at the women to see how they’d take it. Doran scowled, but with an expression I’d never seen on her before. It couldn’t have been grudging respect, could it? “We couldn’t keep it a secret, your castle is full of gossiping servants,” she said. “Lovisa and I live in a barracks; that’s hardly better. And neither you nor she are unnoticeable—if you sneak out to meet somewhere else, there will be talk. It has to be this way, or no way at all.”
“Then it will be no way at all,” I said. Doran shut up.
Lovisa looked crestfallen, but her princess pride wouldn’t allow begging. She met my gaze silently with softly parted lips. She still looked stunning, and I reconsidered my decision as my eyes followed her curves, but finally held steadfast.
Little Xuza was saying something in her quiet voice. She was easy to miss besides Sergeant Doran’s driven rasp and Princess Lovisa’s imposing presence. She did, however, have the deepest green eyes. I fell into her eyes. They were huge. They had no bottom. They were deeper than the green ocean. They weren’t like the hard shiny green of emeralds, lit by hidden light. They were like the green of the forest, in its many shades, from the bright near yellow green of the thinnest leaves at the treetops when the sun shines through, to the rich lush green of the leaves at the canopy, to the near black of the shadows at the base. She had been saying something, making some sort of argument, some plea, but it didn’t matter, I hadn’t been listening. Her eyes had spoken for her.
“I’ll do it,” I said. My voice sounded thick. The soldier women drew in their breaths, looking surprised, and exchanging puzzled glances. I was surprised that they were surprised. Of course I had to agree, Xuza was the weakest, the most innocent here, in the need of the most protection. What was I thinking, putting some soldiers or barony ahead of her? There wouldn’t be any point to any of it if not for Xuza. My head was spinning a little, and I couldn’t get all that out. My tongue tripped over itself. It must have been the wine.
Xuza understood, though. Her voice was like wind through leaves. “Thank you Baron. You’ve had a lot of wine, and you have a big day tomorrow, you probably want to head straight to your castle and to sleep. We all do.”
“Yes, yes.” I agreed. Xuza understood me perfectly. I needed sleep. I had a big day tomorrow. I was going to fuck Xuza! That it, if she wanted me too. After all, maybe she just wanted me to pretend. That would be fine too. She was wonderful. “Go home! Get to sleep! That’s an order!” I slurred. The order worked, Doran and Lovisa shot to their feet and strode out. I stumbled after them, looking back at Xuza as she closed the tavern doors behind us. She was divine.
When the doors closed, I remembered one more thing. “Wait!” I caught up to the soldiers. “Doran!”
They turned. I pulled the sergeant aside, and whispered urgently to her. “Lovisa.” I said. “Barbarian. Make sure she bathes tomorrow. Before.”
Doran sneered. I stumbled off to the castle, my head spinning more with each step. The servants had to undress me and put me to bed.
I slept straight through the morning and would have slept into the afternoon if I wasn’t awakened by the town crier. Someone hadn’t missed a detail; probably Doran, as Lovisa and Xuza were both as new to town as I was.
“HEAR YE, HEAR YE!” he was shouting. The lungs on him were impressive, but it seemed he had gotten some magical enhancement, because his voice was ringing throughout the town.
“Know that two weddings will be held at this time tomorrow, by the grace of the Baron Sanduran. Sergeant Doran will wed Lovisa, the princess and lieutenant, and Private Anfeald will wed Xuza, the barmaid of the Dragon Inn. The baron himself will be officiating. As per the Law of Wintervale, tonight the baron will exercise his Droit du Seigneur, jus primae noctis, with both brides in the castle. Hear Ye, Hear Ye!” This repeated several times.
My head spun, and not just from my hangover. Why had I agreed to this? Would this ruin all my work convincing the populace to trust me, that I wasn’t like the old baron? When I had dressed, the servants were ready with breakfast, really an early lunch, and I studied their expressions as they served me. Were they avoiding my eye? Trying to pretend nothing was wrong?
The servants were practiced at keeping their emotions hidden. I needed to go into the city and walk the streets. Oh yes, the people had noticed. Whispered conversations broke up when they saw me. They still bowed, but women who had smiled at me now held their expressions stiff. Several parents called their teenage daughters into their houses and closed the doors as I approached.
Some men, though, now grinned and winked. One apothecary bowed as he motioned me into his shop. “Two at once, your Lordship? And Lovisa, she is a wild one, I’ve heard she fought the whole Company. You’ll be needing this. For endurance, you know. No charge.” He proffered me a glass bottle containing a violet and black streaked potion. I frowned, and was going to turn it down, but his face fell so much that I changed my mind and took it, so at least one of my subjects wouldn’t hate me. “An honor to serve the baron in his hour of need,” he said, with a grin. “Do us proud, sir.”
I went back to the castle and sat in my chamber for hours, looking wistfully at my orchid. Things were simpler in the south, before I had these responsibilities. There, sleeping with two gorgeous women would have been an unalloyed pleasure, not a dilemma with betraying my responsibilities as baron and captain.
Why had I agreed? I couldn’t exactly remember. It must have been the drink. I called for history and law books, and yes, the women were right, there it was, Droit du Seigneur, just as Doran had described it. Its ostensible justifications were many, from the theory that the experienced Baron would be better at breaking hymens than the groom who would be a virgin himself, to ensuring the closest familial relationship between Baron and subjects, to improving the entire province by spreading the baron’s supposedly superior characteristics, but it seemed clear that the real reason was to satisfy the horny old goat’s lust.
I didn’t even notice the day pass, as night fell far too quickly, supper came and went, and the majordomo informed me that the women, and Anfeald, had arrived, and were in the waiting room. “Would the Lord Baron be needing my services further this evening?”, he asked deferentially. I told him no, that would be all, and went alone to meet my fate.