“But why should it require great culture to comprehend we serrin?”
Sofy blinked at the old serrin. There was a calm to him that was mesmerising. A presence that was not fearful or anxious, nervous or embarrassed, neither wishing anything from her nor desiring to do anything to her. It was an absence of edges, she realised, the kind of sharp and uneasy edges that characterised so many of her meetings with humans. To him, she was not any of the things that she was to those people, and her being a princess affected him perhaps least of all.
Perhaps this was why Lenays and serrin seemed to get along despite their most obvious differences, she thought. Lenays cared little for rank either. Serrin neither cringed nor begged favours, and as such were perhaps the only foreigners a common Lenay could immediately respect.
“Well,” she answered him, “the serrin are a very cultured people, are you not?”
“If you feel pride in it,” said Lesthen, “then it is not culture.” Sofy frowned, baffled. “What you call culture is like a pretty jewel to wear upon your collar to tell lesser humans that you are superior to them. There is more culture in a farmer's song as he pulls his plough, or in a sailor's game of dice on the dock front. To build it so large as humans do, to make it the preserve of the wealthy and high status, that is not culture. That is pride and power, masquerading as such.”
“Yet your people build such grand institutions of culture in Tracato!” Jeddie protested.
Lesthen smiled. “Do you think that our presence here has nothing to do with pride and power? We are here to impress, and sometimes even to frighten. That much at least have we learned of your ways.”
“And why does Sasha understand you best?” Sofy asked.
“Because she sees our flaws, and distrusts our wisdom, and curses us for the fools we often are, even as she takes one of us into her bed.” Lesthen sighed, and leaned on the balustrade railing. “She does not gaze in amazement at all we have built, rather she despairs that we have built all of this without first testing to see that the foundation is firm. As I do now.”
Sofy walked to his side and gazed upon the odd shapes on the sunlit floor. “What manner of place is this? I've never seen anything like it.”
“This place is to study the sky,” said Lesthen. He pointed up at the rim of the circle above them. “The marks there indicate the positions of stars viewed from a certain point on the floor, at different seasons and periods. Knowing such, it is possible to tell precisely the hour, even in the darkest night.
“And these shapes upon the floor are to measure the passage of the sun by observing the movement of its shadow, and to watch the phases of the moon. If I were more knowledgeable on such things, I could tell you more, but alas, I am but a humble ambassador, and with my head full of languages and strange human customs, I have had not the time of life to learn more. And now that I am old, and the end approaches in a manner other than I had wished, I find that I regret it deeply.”
“And why would you wish to know such things?” Sofy asked in amazement. “Certainly all knowledge is valuable, but this does seem a lot of intricate effort.”
“All serrin thinking is obsessed with the amor'is eden, the great patterns. The patterns rule everything. Did you know that there are other worlds out there? All circling our sun?”
Sofy blinked at him. Sasha had once told her that the world was round, and that some serrin claimed they could prove it. Sofy had not found that speculation nearly as interesting as her latest book of poetry, and had returned to that instead. A round world sounded vaguely blasphemous.
“Some serrin speculate that there may be clues to the greatest patterns, the amor'is eden, to be found in the study of the motion of sun, moon, and stars. Always seeking, are we serrin. Always looking to understand. And yet, so little do we know. If only humans would understand how little they know, and embrace the uncertainty with joy instead of fear, things would be different.”
“Do serrin believe in gods?”
Lesthen smiled. “An old serrin joke says that humans believe in gods the way that horses believe in saddles.” He glanced at her. “But perhaps one must be serrin to find that amusing. Serrin believe in higher powers. Humans call those gods, and give them names and personalities. Serrin find this interesting, perhaps quaint. We do not attempt to quantify that which is so far beyond our ability to comprehend. That would be pretence.”
“I had heard that serrin worship knowledge,” said Sofy, “but in a strange way, it seems to me now that perhaps you worship ignorance.”
Lesthen raised his eyebrows, faintly. “Perhaps you understand us as well as your sister. Many serrin say precisely that. We worship ignorance as both our enemy and our friend, for without it, we would have nothing to seek.”
“Master Lesthen, I could learn so much from you. I feel we have a meeting of the minds, your people and myself. I too seek to find a commonality between all things, between my people and yours. We must have points of common similarity that can conquer all this hatred! Will you help me to find them?”
Lesthen looked at her wearily. “My child,” he said, “have you heard of the serrin philosophy of the lashka'won?” Sofy shook her head. “The lashka'won describes the natural path of the world, left to its own devices, free from human intervention. Many serrin scholars of the lashka'won argue over its nature. Some say that the lashka'won is brutal, that the natural world is an endless war of living things killing and eating other living things. Sashandra's lover Errollyn is one of those, and in that odd fashion, not so different from archenemy Kiel.
“Others argue that we serrin, and indeed humans, are also of the lashka'won, and we love and laugh, and are capable of great affection and justice…as are the animals, in some ways, by some means. They describe an aspiration…I shan't give you the Saalsi name because it shall become too confusing, but the name means ‘to aspire,’ in the sense that the lashka'won grants us the potential to aspire to something more than the common brutality of eating and surviving.”
“The gods made us with the grace to aspire to goodness,” said Sofy with a nod. “Verenthanes believe in this philosophy too, Ambassador.”
“Serrin philosophers debate this endlessly,” Lesthen continued. “The first group of the lashka'won-and I am of course simplifying here-the first group are of the philosophy that gave birth to the svaalverd, your sister's fighting style. Those who practise the svaalverd understand that certain forces and momentums of the natural world are immutable, and that the greatest power with a sword comes from flowing with these natural forces. Strong men with powerful muscles may try to fight against these forces, but as your sister can attest, the power asserted by mere human muscle is nothing beside the power of momentum and balance properly harnessed.
“Those people argue that whatever we might aspire to become, all civilisation achieves its best results when it does not fight these forces, but rather harnesses them. The second group argue that this is a path to endless war and suffering, because all natural forces are in conflict, and the easy road of conflict is never the best road where the lives of millions are at stake. They argue that the lashka'won has granted us alternative paths, as you yourself now argue that a common understanding between peoples can achieve peace between enemies better than war.
“Lately I have found myself wondering what Maldereld thought. She was a great builder, and both sides of this debate have claimed her as their own. Her own thoughts from her writings, however, are unclear. She did indeed find many commonalities between humans and serrin, to build what we have all benefitted from here in Tracato and Rhodaan for the past two hundred years. Yet on the other hand, she did impose that commonality by force, at times ruthlessly.”