The High Chair

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Mother Silvia the High Chair of the members of the Great Voice of the Great House of Women was without doubt the most powerful and influential person on the planet of Sergos, which was to say each and every warlord would always give her a hearing and then ignore what he had heard. Sergos was a planet at war with itself. It had been thus for millennia, for its entire known history. The Great House of Women had been moving the planet in the direction of peace for centuries, but it was a slow process. Their greatest achievements to date had been the treaties with the five local warlords whose territories encircled the massif on which the Great House sat. Those treaties had been signed long in the past, and had taken five hundred years to achieve, but they had lasted. All initially based on medical help for the warlords or members of their families the treaties included education for their female descendants and advice concerning management of their lands to produce larger and better harvests. In time the inheritance of those lands by daughters rather than sons had produced a buffer zone secured by further treaties around the Great House that other Warlords had to either respect or face the consequences.

That the five territories were so much wealthier and had much better standards of living than that enjoyed in the territory of any warlord was a constant source of resentment and puzzlement, for it was known the five territories maintained huge armies that were constantly training and clearly battle ready. The latter the warlords had learnt to their cost from hundreds of border skirmishes against troops who clearly did not lack combat experience. That it was infinitely less costly to maintain and train a standing army using them for civil projects like bridge building, road maintenance and any number of other things too that contributed to the quality of life for all rather than maintaining them fighting often hundreds of miles from home never occurred to them. They were incapable of understanding that peace cost less than war. The warlords’ soldiers were constantly grumbling that the rumours said the protectorate territories always paid their soldiers on time and in full. Vasco and Boresh, two warlords that had borders with protectorate territories were having talks with their neighbours with a view to approaching the Great Voice concerning treaties.

Silvia was thinking over the potential treaties and the ongoing tragedy that had forever been the life of her people. The huge loss of life it entailed had always distressed her, for decades ago she’d been an orphaned casualty of its insanity. For the most part Sergos’ boys and all boy orphans, of which there were many due to the war, for all troops lived off the land and murder, rapine and pillage were normal practice, were reared in the nearest barracks till they were old enough to handle their weapons when they went out to join the war. Girls stayed at home with their mothers. Their destiny was to breed more soldiers and mothers of soldiers. The next generation destined for an early death.

However, girl orphans were all sent to the Great House of Women which was an impregnable fortress in the middle of the giant single continent that comprised most of the land area of Sergos. No matter where the girls were from, no matter who their warlord was the girls were sent to the Great House on the understanding the Great House had no dealings with boys.

The Great House was as old as the history of its peoples, and a long time ago, before the surrounding territories had signed treaties of peace, various warlords had tried to conquer it to gain strategic advantage over their rivals. All had wasted their time, a great deal of gold and often their lives too. When under siege the Great House had withdrawn its services from all and often the besiegers had found themselves under concerted attack from others who resenting their inability to access the services of the Great House had formed temporary alliances. The Great House was a city of quarter of a million women and girls and a few thousand men within a castle set atop a great stone massif and was permanently provisioned for over a hundred years. The men were victims of the war who’d either been gelded by mischance in battle or subsequently been gelded deliberately by the warlord their own had opposed as object lessons. They were shunned by their previous brothers and had sought sanctuary with the Great House, for it was well known they would be welcomed and looked after there. Many had become beloved tutors and parent’s to the little girls in the toddlers’ and girls’ houses. A number had become valued advisors to the Great Voice concerning their dealings with the warlords, but all had found a place where they were happy to belong.

The Great House was guarded and defended by tens of thousands of elite female soldiers with fighting skills no man on the planet could but envy. It had wells by the score and was rumoured to have secret routes to the outside which could be used to bring in fresh supplies. There had always been scurrilous rumours that the secret routes were for women to sneak out for what were supposed to be illicit liaisons with men. That was not true, for there was nothing illicit about the matter, women could simply leave the House via the tunnel and do what they willed. In the early days when any woman on her own was likely to be raped any wishful of a child merely had to say, “There’s no need to be rough, kind sir, for a small coin will buy you your hearts desire.” The expression ‘A small coin’ had eventually become a phrase used in jest in connection with any amatory situation.

The areas around the Great House were acknowledged by the warlords to be five independent territories that warred with none, had treaties of mutual protection they would never renege on and furthermore to be under the protection of the Great House and invasion of them had in the past resulted in withdrawal of the Great House’s services. The Great House earnt its income by selling its healing skills and knowledge and it took most of its payment in food and consumables. Though gold had no value to the Great House it was accepted because it was of great value to the warlords and was a most useful trading commodity. For most of the year there was a constant stream of waggons of grain, vegetables, fish, meat, the latter usually on the hoof, and general goods wending its way up into the Great House via the steep entrance defile that led to the tunnel that had been carved through the solid rock. The defile and the tunnel were wide enough for two waggons but the rule was waggons went in during the day and left at night, for that meant any accident did not prevent the movement of goods. Most of the food came from the protectorates because their harvest produced the surplus to trade. They also produced most of the general goods the Great House required. Taught by the women of the Great House centuries ago the arts of turning, pottery, barrel making and much else they had numerous small industries producing such which they also traded with the outside who only practised the arts of war, sword and spear making and the like. A small amount of food came in from outside the area, but the warlords knew the Great House could easily do without it.

The Great House of Women was divided socially in many ways, but for the orphan girls it was their house of allegiance that was of most significance. The House of the Breastfed and the House of the Toddlers were in the same building and contiguous with the House of the Girls. On the other side of the city were the House of the Whores, the House of the Physicians and the House of the Thinkers. Next to the western Barracks of the Guard were the House of the Sword and the House of the Stealthy. In the centre of the city was the House of Artisans. The houses of the breastfed, toddlers and girls were effectively one house that looked after and educated girls from birth to puberty. At menarche the girls were told what their best options would then be taking into account their abilities, but the choice was theirs. Should they decide to try for something at the upper edge of their abilities they were allowed to do so for they could always change their minds later. The houses of whores, physicians and thinkers were all essentially medical in nature. The word whore had an unusual meaning to the Sergosee, it meant nurse or comforter and carried no connection to sex. The physicians were doctors, surgeons, herbalists, dentist and the like and the thinkers were those who dealt with issues of the mind. Those of the sword were training to be soldiers and guards whilst those of the stealthy were spies, assassins and dealt with what others on other planets referred to as black operations. The house of artisans taught craftswomen of all kinds, those who maintained the city, made things, weavers, spinners and many more including the printers of books.

The Great House of Women was governed by a group of about two hundred experienced women who were at the apex of their houses. The number varied according to availability and suitability and though there were no formal elections the process of their selection was a democratic one and the group was referred to as the Great Voice.

~o~O~o~

Silvia was sitting in the High Chair surrounded by some three dozen members of the Great Voice. She was looking at a child of at most ten who was accompanied on each side by a woman in her late twenties. Silvia could see from their insignia one was a junior officer of the Guard and the other a middle ranking member of the House of Physicians. That the child posed a problem of some sort to the physicians was clear, but neither Silvia nor the other women had any inkling as to why that problem was considered significant enough to ask for judgement from the Great Voice, and especially why it had been requested that she be there. She waited and to her surprise it was the child who spoke first.

“I am a girl and I seek admission to this House.” Silvia saw the physician shake her head at the statement. It was something that had happened before and there were two very different possible explanations. It was something that would need tactful handling and she was glad she was there to hear the evidence at first hand.

“If that be so, there is a need for evidence, Child. Shew yourself to us and state your name.” Silvia had spoken gently and saw a little apprehension slide off the child’s face.

The child nodded and removed the shift to stand naked other than sandals in front of the women. There it was, the immature prod and sack of masculinity possibly giving the statement the lie.

The child completely unbothered by what the women could see but seemingly worried by her previous statement being possibly refuted reiterated. “I am a girl and I seek admission to this House. My name is Rebecca and I have said the required words. You can not turn me away without breaking the oath of this House to accept all girls.”

The rarer of the two rare situations had occurred, more often boys older than Rebecca sought entrance to escape the fighting. For such the House could do nothing directly, for if it became known every warlord on Sergos would slaughter all the girl orphans that they came across. All they could do was find the boy a place in the household of one of the surrounding territories where at least the child would be safe. Silvia smiled and said, “Approach me, Rebecca.” She reached out her right hand and cupping the tiny masculine features said, “We can give you herbs that will make these fade and develop your girl hood. Later, for it is not wise to do it before you are grown, we can offer further herbs that will give you the full body of a woman. Is this your wish too?” She withdrew her hand and ran it across Rebecca’s hair saying, “We must have your hair looked at. It’s your best feature and could be a lot prettier don’t you think?”

“Yes. Please, and I’d like pretty hair too. What do I call you?”

“Mother Silvia will do.”

“Thank you, Mother Silvia.” Rebecca broke down in floods of tears at the relief of no longer having to hide from the eyes of those who didn’t, couldn’t or wouldn’t understand. For years, since the rapes of her mother and sisters and the subsequent murders of her entire family, she had been hiding in a shift terrified of what would happen if the barracks recruiters discovered her secret. The soldiers hadn’t seen her collecting eggs and she’d run away escaping their notice. Her family had farmed a small isolated holding and just accepted her as she was but she knew how others would regard her and had lived with the fear of detection ever since. It had taken her two years, only moving at night and often stealing food, to get to the Great House. She’d only ever spoken to women all of who had been happy to give her a little food and directions, for being a girl away from home even with protectors was perilous, being a girl on her own was almost inviting rape and murder. She’d expected it to be difficult if at all possible to gain admission to the Great House, but had lived on hope and anxiety in equal measure. Yes, she knew of the oath, all knew of the oath, but she’d not expected it to apply to her too, but for her it was the only hope. She’d truly thought she would be taking her own life on rejection and had been almost glad as it would mean at last the torment would be all over. “I thought you’d reject me, Mother Silvia, and was ready to give up and die. I’d even thought to ask you if I could jump off one of the towers here, for then I could die in peace at a place where all were women even if I couldn’t live as one.”

Silvia looked around and saw faces as appalled as she knew hers must look. Women’s faces that clearly indicated without words this was without doubt a girl, one of their own. One who doubtless had the strength of mind and fortitude to be a member of the Great Voice one day, if not the High Chair herself.

The guard realising her presence was no longer required curtseyed and said, “I’ll return to my duties, Mother.” Silvia just nodded.

The physician asked, “The House of girls, Mother Silvia?”

Silvia shook her head indicating the physician was to wait a little, and taking both of Rebecca’s hands in hers forced her voice to as near normal as was possible, but there was still a catch in it when she said, “Oh no, Rebecca Child. There shall be no high tower for you. That oath is sacred. I may be ninety-two with an erratic memory, but I remember as clear as day when eighty-four years ago I stood in bare feet where you are standing now with everything that you have too.”

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Comments

Beautiful story

I loved this story, it is delightful - yes, a trans-accepting version of Themyscira!