Arc 9-05
Ask the common Harvest peasant and they’ll have all kinds of opinions about what separates nobles from commoners. I’d bet the number one answer would be money. After that, magic. Maybe a few more traditional minds would say blood.
Truthfully? It’s knowledge. Why? Magic is more about what you know than what you are born with. Magic is power. Power is what separates the haves from the have-nots.
I guess that’s why schooling isn’t widespread. The way Geneva explained it while we discussed the future of my city, educating the populace has all kinds of benefits. A well-educated people means greater and faster innovation, stronger and wiser defenders, as well as less crime, as more have access to opportunities. However, it comes with the large downside of the people being less willing to swallow anyone’s bullshit. Why would someone let a spoiled noble brat tell them what to do when they know they can do better? When they have the power to push back when someone pushes them?
No, education is not a good policy for aspiring tyrants. Good thing oppressing others isn’t what gets me going. Besides, giving my people the same opportunities as a low noble would only mean that they can rival said nobles. A city full of Pottocullis and Newstars isn’t something I’m afraid of. Saints, a city full of Masons isn’t enough to make me raise my brows or threaten my clan.
Assuming I can make it happen. As I walk through the halls, listening in on the classrooms, I realize my school is getting mixed reactions from its students; in some rooms, there is spirited discussion happening but in others, all I can hear is a worrying silence beneath the droning of a lecturer talking to a crowd doing their best impression of a wall.
“My lady? Did you not want to enter any of the classrooms?” Yates asks, growing nervous at my apparent disinterest.
“Take me to the headmaster’s office. You all have been keeping records about attendance and your curriculums?”
“Of course!” he says brightly, eager to finally have direction. “Right this way.”
We follow him toward the center of the school, where the staff rooms are located. Several eyes follow us as we walk through a lounge for the teachers, men and women cutting off their conversations and staring. I stare back, taking in their clean and orderly appearances. I try to show my approval through a charming smile. All of them look away.
Either I’m wearing a different face than the one I saw in the mirror this morning or my reputation needs more work.
On the back wall of the lounge is a heavy door, an extravagant use of wood amidst a shortage. I immediately excuse it seeing my personal crest engraved in it. Yates knocks, raising his voice as he announces, “Headmaster, Lady Tome is here to visit.”
There is a series of soft curses before a much louder, “Enter!”
Yates opens the door but doesn’t step inside, making way for us to step into the modest study. A bear of a man stands up from behind a stone desk. His thick hair, both on his head and other places, is groomed, but only to the extent that someone shaved a bear just enough to make it look human and taught it to stand on two feet. He’s wearing a vest that didn’t survive being a shirt; someone tried to repair the damage, but I can still make out a few fringes from where the sleeves were removed. The top of his desk is a mess, but it’s the disorganized chaos of someone more focused on results than staying organized. Poor man needs a servant in here. Wonder if that was Yates job before he started playing lookout.
“My lady, it’s a pleasure to have you here.”
The tension in your shoulders says otherwise. “Headmaster Rigorson. I see you took the job after all.”
I’m familiar with this bear, though only in passing. He was one of my favorites of the options presented to me by Geneva. As a retired hunter of One For All who became a guild administrator, he was a perfect fit for the job; he already has experience wrangling people and his past gives him respect while distancing him just enough that the anti-hunter faction led by the CFQ won’t hate his guts.
One of his very few negatives that he seems to have left behind him was a reluctance to take the position. Aside from the general unease of working for the woman responsible for mass murder, he didn’t think that he, someone who had never touched a book before the age of thirty, had the right to look over future scholars. Hah! As if having tutors blowing smoke up your ass from the age of five or being able to recite poetry from memory makes someone inherently more capable than someone else. I’ll take years of experience any day. More importantly, as an unmarried man who settled for middle management without bitterness and whose biggest vice is expensive cheese, he’s someone without an agenda who I can trust with a small amount of power. A rare find.
“Yes, well. I stayed with One For All to help young hunters. This school is going to help a lot more.”
“It will.” I take the single chair for visitors, Geneva standing at my shoulder. “Tell me, how are things going?”
“Everything’s going well—”
“Stop.” It’s a little amusing watching such a big man jump. “First, sit down. Unless standing makes you more comfortable?” He retakes his chair with a grunt. “Didn’t think so. Now, you’re going to give me a straight answer. I don’t expect everything to be perfect. We’re all doing something new. There’s going to be bumps in the road. Only way to make sure they don’t tip the carriage is for me to know about them. So, again. How are things going?”
He eyes me, considering. Then his large shoulders sag. “Honestly, they’re going good. Better than expected.”
“But there’re problems.”
“Yeah. Pushback from the oldheads that don’t see the point.” He laces his fingers, the gesture unsuited to the meaty digits. “Right now, we offer classes for reading, writing, math, and law. A lot of people have gone their whole lives without knowing them and don’t think they need them. It’d be fine if it were just those stubborn bastards, but people are sticking together. They’re influencing the younger generations. Kids who are relying on the old ways of taking over from their fathers or apprenticing under their uncles.”
“That’s not going to work.” That only works when there’s a limited number of people who can do a job. Suppose I need furniture made. Before, there would be only four or five families that knew the trade, each with less than a dozen workers. Under my direction, there’ll be a hundred capable carpenters, with more learning every year. Competition is going to get fierce, prices more so. When it comes to saving a crown, old loyalties will be tossed out with the trash. Sure, the families will have an edge for a while, but the more time that passes, the harder it’s going to be for the mediocre sons looking to coast off their fathers’ reputations to make a living. And when they figure out they can’t, they won’t have any other skills to fall back on. Won’t even be able to find work as clerks when teen boys can read ten times faster and count ten times higher.
“I’ve told them, but why would they believe me? It’s been done the same way for generations. It’s like telling them the sun is going to rise on the opposite side of the sky.”
“Any ideas?”
He leans back in his chair, rubbing his brow. “Wouldn’t be having so much trouble if I did. Don’t suppose you’ve got an idea?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“We don’t have any other options.”
I lean forward, meeting his eyes. “What if I tell you that I saw this coming…and it’s part of the plan.”
I can see him working to control himself, his jaw moving and his eyes twitching. Credit to him, he manages to keep his voice level and the expression off his face. “I would ask you to explain your reasoning to your incapable servant.”
Smooth. “It’s nothing complicated.” I shrug. “With my reputation and how strange this all is, I expected people to turn their noses up at it. Saints witness, I expected a whole lot more empty classrooms. And despite having what I’m pretty sure are the two smartest minds in the kingdom at my side, they couldn’t give me any good solutions that wouldn’t lead to more complicated messes down the road. There’s nothing to do but let the results speak for themselves. It might take a generation or two, but eventually, the benefits of education will be evident to everyone. Then, so long as its free, and there’s no downside to sending their children, the parents will do what they need to so that their children have a better future.”
“…I can’t find any fault in it,” Rigorson grumbles. “Don’t like it much, if you’ll excuse me saying.”
“Me neither and that’s why you’re sitting in that chair. Now, let me see some of that paperwork.”