Up-Time Pride and Down-Time Prejudice by Mark H. Huston

Author:Mark H. Huston [Huston, Mark H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1948818493
Publisher: Eric Flint's Ring of Fire Press
Published: 2019-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19 You wanna what?

July 9, 1634

The castle was remarkably quiet, and Mary was pleased with the time off. Everyone had run off to Munich after the ball, to attend the wedding of Maximilian and Maria Anna. It left the castle empty. So she was free to wander the hallways at her leisure, chatting at the staff, or simply sitting and watching the mountains. It felt great to do nothing for a while, or at least a comparative nothing. She even slept late a couple of days.

The attempted assault had left her furious, not only at the two assholes, but also at herself, for allowing the whole thing to happen in the first place. She kept replaying the situation, trying to figure out what she could have done differently. Eventually she allowed herself the conclusion that there wasn’t. She would have done nothing different. There was nothing to blame herself for. She told herself this often, hoping that on some level she could convince herself of it. It was sorta working. Even though the two little assholes hadn’t gotten anything from her except a decent thrashing, she was still working through it. She couldn’t imagine what she would be like if they had completed what they were starting, if they even had an idea of what they were doing in the first place. Assholes.

Over the last five days, the bruises had receded on her throat and arms. She had pulled a muscle, probably when she swung the chair around, so her back was still a little sore. She certainly didn’t notice injuring it at the time. She knew the physical pain would fade. The other stuff, she wasn’t so sure about. The feeling of insecurity, and of betrayal hung over her, like an itch between her shoulder blades. The reaction of the down-time women, which to Mary’s perception amounted to victim-blaming, made her feel even more betrayed. She knew, from studying and observing, down-time women were many times considered barely human. Slightly above prized cattle. Sometimes below. She saw it more in Wurzberg than here, because here everyone was mostly some level of nobility, or so unbelievably rich it didn’t matter. Depending on where you lived, there were some small patches of equality. Like Grantville. But too often, women were considered the weaker vessel, to be owned, protected, and blamed. Mostly blamed. And scapegoated. After all, most witches were women. She had read those accounts firsthand.

But what to do about Sibylla? There was no way she could politically counter the girl. She owned the high ground. People jumped when she shouted, cringed when she yelled, and bowed when she moved suddenly. This girl was like a head cheerleader from hell and Josef Stalin all wrapped up in a pretty package. Stadelemier understood; he had interviewed her the day after the assault. There was something about the soldier that let Mary know he knew the score, where the influences had come from, and even why. But there was no recourse for her, not against Sybilla.

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