The Robin and the Kestrel - Chapter Thirteen

[kalinara]

So last time, our heroes had some mild communication issues and then went to information gather at a brothel.



So, we're told that our heroes settle into an odd routine for the next couple of days. Brothel at night, sales during the day. Robin admits that it's marginally comfortable - as long as she doesn't listen to the preachers. Kestrel, apparently, has developed a shrewd business sense, and turned out to be right about the wall stars vs. jewelry. Other merchants have figured out the trick to the first, undercutting their prices, so now they're focused entirely on jewelry. Fortunately, no one's mimicked the way they use beads or crystals to decorate them.

The more expensive versions, made by the jeweler friends, seem to be growing in popularity. They've seen a few turn up at the brothel as gifts from clients.

They also get some useful information: Padrik has "special helpers" who are the only ones permitted to help him with the healing services. After that, both Robin and Kestrel attend the healing services regularly in order to pick out familiar faces. They hit the jackpot when Robin realized that the man who specializes in "being possessed by demons" is one of Ardana's regular clients. He has a very recognizable smirk.

The nice thing about being friends with sex workers, is they can talk to the one who'd served the "possessed" dude. The sex worker, Sister Krystal, identifies him as "Robere Patsono". She doesn't seem to like him much, noting that he always hints about being important to the bishop but gets coy if anyone asks for details.

Robin recognizes the name Patsono. He's DEFINITELY helping with the miracles.

Sister Krystal would really like them to stop Padrik, if they can. From the point of view of a sex worker, things were much better when the Houses and Guilds were legal. Now, if someone mistreats a sex worker, the only option they have is for Ardana to ban the perpetrator. And sometimes she can't do that: if a client is important enough, he can threaten to turn Ardana in.

It's hypocritical of course, since the Cathedral Constables are often clients themselves, but they would arrest the sex workers if told to.

The potential consequences are pretty bad too. Jail, of course, is possible. But there is also the "work-house", where women convicted of "immoral idleness" are forced to sew and do laundry without any sort of compensation. Their wages get confiscated to pay fines, room and board. That's bad already, but even worse is that, apparently, the Priests visit said work-house and they get all the advantages that come with visiting a brothel. Without having to pay.

So yay, rape and slavery. Our heroes are suitably appalled. Krystal is mostly resigned. She notes that it's the privilege of power. Fortunately, few of the sex workers have been caught in raids. And well, they have ways of making sure that Padrik won't want them if they did - like making sure they're not pretty anymore. Eek.

The somber tone lightens a bit when Ardana appears with another client: an ordinary and dumpy little man dressed as a merchant. Krystal is clearly delighted to see him and hurries over, leaving our slightly bewildered heroes behind.

But they have what they need. Robin definitely recognizes the Patsono name, and here's where things get very uncomfortable to me as a reader.

This series has always been a little dicey to me when it comes to the portrayal of the Roma. They're generally portrayed positively. It does use the word "Gypsy" to refer to them, but back in the 1990s, when this book was produced, most Americans were not aware that it was considered a slur. But it does resort to certain stereotypes at times, without really challenging them. And while characters like Gwyna, Nightingale, Peregrine or Erdric get to be developed beyond said stereotypes, we also have characters like the Patsono clan, which basically appear to be every single negative stereotype that you'll see in common media.

Look at this:

Even among the [Roma] a Patsono was watched carefully, and valuables kept out of easy filching reach. All [Roma]] tended to cheat ordinary housebound folk—who they called gajo, or in the Outsider tongues, "rootfeet" from their habit of never leaving a place for as long as they lived. It was not considered cheating so much as a combination of good bargaining and education . . . if the rootfeet learned to be careful, to watch their purse strings or to examine what they bargained for, then they got a cheap lesson in the ways of real life. Sometimes that cheating extended to a bit of outright theft, if the mark appeared to deserve such attentions. Robin had picked a pocket or two in her time. She considered it justice, not thievery; those whose purses she lightened were either far too wealthy for their own good, or they had been particularly noxious, like the bullies in Westhaven.

But [Roma], as a rule, never made fellow [Roma] or Free Bards the targets of such thievery and trickery. The Patsono Clan had fleeced or robbed both quite as often as they'd victimized rootfeet.

The only question in Robin's mind was—why? Why were they doing this? What were they getting out of it? Why had they suddenly decided to throw in with a rootfoot—and not just any rootfoot, but a High Bishop? The [Roma] had no shared interests with Churchmen, not even a common religion.

She had personal experience with a Patsono or two; if there was one trait besides dishonesty they all had in common, it was a distinct aversion to cooperate with anyone.

I'm not familiar enough with real Roma customs to gauge whether or not the portrayal of Roma here is an accurate description of culture, an uncomfortable stereotype, or both. But I definitely recognize the stereotypes involved with the portrayal of the Patsonos.

And it's hard not to read them as an excuse for a white author to embrace all of these awful, negative stereotypes while still patting herself on the back for it not being ALL Roma.

And we have a hint for upcoming marital strife:

Kestrel isn't going to like this, Robin, she told herself, as she devoted half her attention to her playing, while the other half was wrapped up in thinking up a way to get her into the black heart of the Patsono Clan. So while you're at finding a way into Patsono, maybe you'd better find a way to talk him into accepting this . . . .

Yeah. This seems like a great idea.

Kestrel, by the way, as absolutely not on board with Robin's plan. Which is to pretend to be a distant Patsono cousin and infiltrate the group. Apparently, the infilitration part isn't too hard. Plenty of Roma don't bother with formalizing relationships. Roma women are all taught how to prevent conception, but sometimes a woman can choose to have a child and not care who the father is, as long as he isn't "a rootfoot".

This...there's a lot to unpack here:

"Because sometimes a woman can choose to have a child, and not care who the father is so long as he isn't a rootfoot," she said, trying not to show her exasperation at having to state the obvious. "And sometimes women are just stupid or careless. It doesn't matter! All I have to do is claim my father is one of the Patsonos, name some city I know the Patsonos were in, and give a vague description of the man. Patsonos have no imagination to speak of; of the entire Clan, at least a quarter of the men are named Robere, another quarter are called Tammio, and the rest are a mix of Berto, Albere, and Tombere. If I say my father's name was Robere and I don't try to claim any special privileges or demand one of the Roberes recognize me as his offspring, there shouldn't be any problems or questions. Among the Clans it's basically up to you and maybe the Clan Chiefs to keep track of who you're related to."

1. Robin, your husband is not Roma. So no, your statements about your culture are not "obvious" to him, and it might be worth acknowledging that.

2. Still not a fan of this blatant negative stereotyping. Dear Ms. Lackey: just because you've relegated all the racist stereotypes to ONE specific clan and put them in the mouth of a Roma woman doesn't make it okay.

3. It would really serve Robin right if the Patsonos actually kept very detailed records. They won't, but still.

Unsurprising, Kestrel isn't reassured. Things get really bad, really quick:

"It won't as long as you aren't with me," she retorted, her own temper fraying. "Which you won't be. You couldn't pass for a [Roma] no matter how hard you tried, and by now I'm sure there are plenty of Clans who've heard of Robin and her gajin vanderei. But when I go in alone, there won't be any reason to connect me with—"

"What?" he yelped again. "You're doing no such—"

Her frayed temper snapped. "How dare you? You are not my master, you do not tell me what I will or will not do!" she hissed. "I rule my own actions!"

Okay, I'm going to try to be fair here. The first time I read this book, it was as an adolescent who had quite a lot of internalized misogyny. I was not a fan of Robin's behavior here, but I will acknowledge that she has a lot of pre-established triggers that involve being told what to do, that are no doubt exacerbated by the fact that she's spent a fairly long time now in an environment where she's treated as a second class citizen as opposed to her white husband.

That said, my sympathies still fall with Kestrel for the most part because this kind of unilateral decision making is not a healthy part of a marriage or working partnership. Robin didn't "discuss" this with her husband. She didn't "consult" her life partner and work partner about this thing that she wants to do that will definitely put her in danger and could well put BOTH of them at risk if she's caught and they figure out who she is. She told her husband what she would do, acted bitchily toward his very reasonable questions about how this is supposed to work, and shot him down without any real input.

Not cool.

Also, it's a fucking stupid plan.

Anyway, she storms off. Not to go anywhere sane and THINK about this plan, or even do any sort of preparation to make it work, or even to ask her friends about the Patsonos in general and how they do things. She just decides to go where they're located. (Per the clients at Ardanas, the "helpers" have an enclave on Church property.)

There is an interesting moment of aesthetic appreciation here that mirrors Kestrel's reaction to the Cathedral earlier:

She had never seen the Cathedral at night; its impact was as great as the first view by daylight had been. The carvings were darker shadows, silhouettes against the colored glass of the windows, and every window shone with its own light. The colors gave the illusion of floating in the darkness of the Cathedral, and now she saw what she had missed before—that the windows themselves, framed as they were by the carvings, formed the simple shapes of stylized flowers and leaves. The Cathedral was a huge bouquet of flowers, made of light . . . .

A cold breeze whipped around her ankles, then blew up her skirt, and woke her to her self-appointed mission. She shook herself out of her trance and hurried across the cobble-stoned square. The windows of the houses surrounding the square were also alight, but this was familiar, homey light, and she concentrated on them rather than on the seductive and hypnotic beauty of the Cathedral. As they had peddled their God-Stars she had amused herself by imagining what lay beyond those windows; now, at least in part, she was able to see how the wealthy of Gradford spent that wealth.

That said, Robin's not that impressed by the aesthetic of the town in general, especially not after having seen the palace in Birnam. Everything's very overblown and over-decorated, and she kind of thinks that if the trend toward austerity lasts, maybe Padrik's influence isn't all bad.

Hah.

Oh hey, more bad Roma stereotyping:

Getting in was going to be a difficult proposition as well, unless the Patsonos left the gate open . . . and unless they were so incredibly stupid that they didn't bother to put a guard on it.

Then again, it's the Patsonos. They may be crooked, but they're also idiots.

Still, even idiots could have a moment or two of shrewdness. Plenty of smart people became dead smart people because they forgot that.

But as she rounded the corner, she was able to breathe easier. The gate stood open wide, with yellow light from the courtyard beyond spilling through it out onto the cobbles.

There wasn't even a token guard at the gate. Not even a child, watching to see who came in.

Oh, aye. It's the Patsonos all right.

Is it wrong that I kind of want her to come across a really smart Patsono and get booted out on her ear?

She is relieved to see plenty of women there, who while dressed in mousy brown, still wear their clothes like Roma women do. And I'm again reminded how stupid Robin's plan was, when she DIDN'T KNOW IF THEY HAD WOMEN PRESENT AT ALL.

Also, how is this hypothetical bastard Patsono cousin that she's supposed to be supposed to have found this SECRET ENCLAVE in the first place???

Anyway, despite the lack of bright colors, music and dancing, the courtyard really does seem like a typical Roma camp.

So Robin goes to the fire, passes some kind of wine-drinking test - apparently no foreigner ever masters Roma wineskins unless they're particularly deft Free Bards. She gets a look at the people around her, recognizing many of the "healed" people in the crowd.

Some woman asks who's on duty tomorrow, and I'm annoyed that Robin's stereotyped prediction holds true:

"Little Robere, Bald Robere, Blind Robere, Tammio Blackbeard, Mindy, and Berto Lightfingers, that's all I know of," another voice said, from the other side of the fire. "There's a special demon-possession up; Padrik has a point he wants to make and a woman he wants to get back at, and people are getting bored with invisible demons anyway. Should be a good show, and it's going to be an impressive enough thing we don't need a big parade of victims."

I mean, look, I AM glad to see an example of Roma who aren't all paragons of virtue in this setting. I just wish it was done better.

There's a lot of banter among the folks about playing victims and the tricks coming up next. One of the young men actually does seem to recognize Robin from the Cathedral, but fortunately seems willing to believe she was just another "special helpers".

...actually, let's unpack this:

He had seen her—in the Cathedral. And since he was seeing her now, here, he simply assumed that she was one of the other "special helpers." Perhaps there were Patsonos coming and going all the time—Patsono was a small Clan, but she had no idea of the true numbers. Perhaps there was not enough room for all of them here. Perhaps they were still collecting far-flung members as word spread they were needed.

So Robin decides to infiltrate a group when she has no idea of their numbers OR whether or not they're gathering members. And we've got a group that apparently is involved with a very long con, who is calling all of their members from outside, but without anyone keeping track of who is who?

I like the book, but there are a lot of contrivances here.

Robin also gets a moment to be catty about the other girl in the circle: a girl with a big nose who laughs like a peacock. Said girl does fill us in about what the Patsonos get out of this: mainly using the townsfolk religion to rob them blind. I do sympathize with that motivation, but given that Roma are likely to be targeted at some point in the future, it's really short sighted.

Especially once Padrik has learned all their tricks and won't need them anymore. What's the easiest way to get rid of a bunch of inconvenient former conspirators?

Anyway, I've spent a lot of time bitching about Robin's choices, so it's only fair to note that she IS getting some good info here. Apparently the Bishop is planning something REALLY big that the Chief (also named Robere. Ugh. I hate that Robin gets to be right about this) is working on. It'll be like a Faire trick - an angel as big as a Cathedral.

An old dude (Gray Tombere) comes out to recruit a few people to help serve food and drink to the folks in the guest house. Robin volunteers after a few more go first. (The big nosed girl, Rosa, is one.)

Hey, more negative stereotyping woo.

A moment later she was inside the "guest-house," in a large room heated to semitropic temperatures by an enormous fire in the fireplace. That was the only source of light; either the Clan Chiefs enjoyed this attempt to get the "feel" of an outdoor meeting, or else the Bishop did not trust them around candles and the resulting wax-drips on his furniture and paneling.

If so, he was wise, at least so far as Robin could tell. The carpet had been treated as if it was a dirt floor; the table was crusted with spills that had never been cleaned up, and the sideboard was in the same shape. The Bishop's furniture would never look as good as it once did, and he might have to replace it all after this.

Anyway, there's more talk about the upcoming illusion and their cut (three thousand silver or one quarter of the take, whichever is bigger). And more info about what the Patsonos are getting out of this.

Robin listened and poured, poured and listened. There was more of the same, rather as she had expected. The Patsonos had basically moved into Gradford and set up their own little network of linked activities. They smuggled in drugs, strong liquor, and anything that had been deemed illegal; they dispensed these things at the House the Chief had spoken of—and Robin had a shrewd notion that if she were to trace the location of this House, she would discover it was one and the same with the "workhouse" Krystal had described. They separated the gullible from their money at the gambling tables in the House, and they used their knowledge of who the clients were to extort yet more money from those same clients on occasion.

They had abandoned the usual schemes of fortune-telling and petty pickpocketing. They weren't even involved in horse theft; not here, and not now. They had tied the Clan's fortunes to High Bishop Padrik and his schemes—for just as the Patsonos got their share of the donations resulting from Padrik's "miracles," the High Bishop was taking his share of their income from the House.

And they were completely content with all of this. It apparently had never once occurred to any of them that Padrik and his Priests were observant and clever, and that once they figured out how to reproduce the "miracles"—or managed to find a mage they could coerce into doing the same—they would no longer need the Patsonos. With all the illegal activities the Clan had gotten involved with, it would be child's play to be rid of them.

Robin, of course, being one of the "good Roma" is smart enough to realize the risks. And that with the Patsonos as the bad example, it'll be quite easy for Padrik to influence the King to legislate against Roma and Free Bards. (...I know we have to bring up bards, because this is a bard story, but it feels pretty tacked on here.)

Anyway, now, someone FINALLY realizes that Robin's listening AND an unfamiliar face. But she has had time to think:

"Reba," she said, quickly forcing an expression of vacant stupidity on her face. "Reba, Chief. Gray Tombere, he said come pour wine. Rosa, she say it's warm inside. So I come pour wine. Hey?"

The man examined her for a moment, closely. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

She shrugged, tasting the sour bile of fear but trying to keep any expression at all from showing. Hadn't she heard of a Patsono that was hung for horse theft when she was a child? Could she remember his name? She made a quick, desperate guess. "Born on road, outside Kingsford. Mam's Clan don' like me, much. Pappy was Long Robere—"

Or apparently not, because she's coming up with this shit on the fly. She's good at what she does, of course, but SERIOUSLY? You didn't think of this EARLIER?

It works though because negative stereotypes got to stereotype. They remember that "Long Robere" apparently had gotten a brat on a "Ladras woman" before he got hung. They think she has a look of him. (It's noted that Long Robere was always better looking than he was smart. Heh.)

So Robin's coast is clear. Kinda. Because there are apparently rules involved with all this: especially for the girls. And this IS interesting, and does give the Patsonos a bit of depth, because they're protective of their women. The priests have been known to get ideas about the Roma women, thinking they're just like the girls in their "special House".

So Robin's led to a safe, SECURE place to sleep with the heart-sinking realization that her husband will likely be frantic. And say "I told you so." Which girl, have some fucking priorities.

Rosa also gets a bit of nuance here, as she leads "Reba" to a place to sleep. Apparently it's not uncommon for "Patsono get" to get turned out by the other clans with nothing, and Rosa as sympathetic when she leads Robin to the community store of clothes.

I suppose if that's the attitude, then it's not really all that surprising that the Patsonos aren't particularly interested in the ramifications their actions might have on Roma as a whole. But Robin doesn't really seem to think about that. She just notes how Rosa is "full of self-importance" when she promises to take her to services in the morning so she can see what they'll do. It's the best!

The chapter ends with Robin ironically musing how this "really is the best."

I suppose I'm happy with this. I don't want Robin to be HURT or anything (I like watching men suffer instead), but I appreciate how this has pretty much immediately backfired on her. I just wish it didn't take her catching the idiot ball for it to happen.