The Understorey Courts

Overview

The Understorey Courts are the terraced receiving grounds at the foot of the canopy on the basin-facing edge of The Crownboughs. The embassy road from the forest edge of The Confluence Basins ends here, and for most Humans so does the High Elf world. Envoys, traders, and petitioners are received on these terraces, often for seasons at a time, and few are ever taken up into the trees.

The Crownbough-Confluence edge is a border of rank rather than ground, running where the courts stop meeting visitors and start receiving them. The Understorey Courts are the one stretch of it with a floor. Most of what Humans believe about High Elves, and much of what the courts believe about Humans, was learned here, at a height the courts chose.


The Place

For its last stretch the embassy road leaves ordinary woodland and runs through the cleared and planted understorey the courts keep beneath their canopy: orchard rows, herb beds, swept paths. Ahead the ground rises in broad terraces edged with trained roots, stepping up toward the trunks of the great trees. Far above, the galleries and garden-walks of the canopy are plainly visible and out of reach.

Everyone on the terraces knows they are graded. Traders and petitioners keep to the lowest, where the road comes in and goods change hands. Embassies lodge higher, in low halls trained from understorey growth, and the terrace a court assigns an embassy is read in the basins as a verdict on the power that sent it. The highest terrace lies against the trunks. From it climbs the Leave Stair, a grown stair of root and bough into the canopy, which no visitor climbs without a house’s leave. Being taken up it is the measure by which the Crownboughs judge an embassy; the terraces are the finer grades beneath.

Nothing here is hard to enter. The grounds are open and staying on them is easy. Rising is the difficulty, and it is governed by protocol, presentation, and the patience of whoever is hosting. The canopy sheds onto the terraces as well: storm seasons bring down dead limbs and the wreck of outer walks, and the lower grounds are cleared after every high wind.


Keepers and Users

The grounds belong to the Crownbough Courts in common rather than to any one of them. The charge of keeping them passes from court to court in turn, and the court holding it keeps order, assigns terraces, and sets the calendar of receptions. Whom an embassy meets, and whether it ever climbs, is decided by the great house that hosts it, which is why every envoy spends the stay courting that house. Tenders of the Ordered Bough serve on the grounds too, keeping the gardens and advising the court in charge. They decide nothing about rank, but their word on whether a guest is ready carries weight.

The users come up the road from the Confluence Marches:

  • Envoys of lords and chartered towns, sent to be seen, to bring a gift home, or to learn the ceremony and composure that raise their sender’s standing in the basins.

  • Traders with basin goods, who seldom leave the lowest terrace and do not expect to.

  • Petitioners seeking a graft, a teacher, or a hearing.

  • Scribes and witnesses, who travel with every serious embassy because in basin law nothing agreed here binds until it is sworn and written under the Witnessed Accord.

Some stay. Many of the mixed Human-High Elf households tied to the embassies live on or below the terraces, between Human kin who expect a child named early and Elven kin who expect one to emerge first, as described in Elves and Humans.


The Medieval Present

Most days on the grounds are spent waiting. Envoys pay calls on the terraces above their own, send small gifts upward, and study the courtiers who come down. A long stay is not always a slight: to the courts, an embassy received in a hurry has not really been received. Basin envoys know this and complain anyway.

The busy weeks fall in the court season, when courtiers descend the Leave Stair with their faces painted gold after the image of Saerith the Mirror-King and receptions are held terrace by terrace. Gifts change hands then, and each is weighed for what it says about both givers. The Crownbough side is grown on the Graft Terrace, a middle terrace kept by the tenders as a nursery, where seedlings and grafts meant for basin lords are raised until they are given.

Two kinds of memory are kept side by side. Basin scribes write down everything said to their embassy, by whom, and from which terrace. The courts remember each reception in their own way and do not put their names to the scribes' rolls.


History

The grounds keep the habits of two older layers. The First Confluence-Crownbough Contacts (c. 18,000-c. 10,000 BR) were display before protocol; The Crownbough Embassies (c. 16,000-c. 8,000 BR) turned display into formal reception, and the graded terraces are that formality laid out on the ground. The courts still run them as if Humans might be patronized safely and know that they cannot.

The Crownbough Heir Controversy (c. 14,000-c. 13,000 BR) is the precedent every embassy household knows. It settled nothing for good, and its warning that dynastic clarity and maturity do not ripen together is repeated on the terraces whenever a mixed child’s standing comes up. The wider argument belongs to the Elder and Young thread.


Tensions

  • The climb without witnesses. A basin lord’s envoy is at last offered the Leave Stair, on condition that she climbs alone. Her witness and scribe must stay below. If she goes, the highest reception her lord has ever had will be unsworn and unwritten, and in basin law it will not have happened. If she refuses, the offer will not come again.

  • A name before its time. A girl of an embassy household has reached the age at which her Human father’s town would name her and enter her standing before witness. Her High Elf kin, and the tender they consult, say she is not yet readable. The embassy’s witness is ready to write the name down; the court in charge would rather nothing were written at all.

  • The dead graft. A Crownbough graft given to a basin lord has died in basin soil, and the lord’s envoy has come to ask for another. Replacing it concedes that a Crownbough gift can fail. Refusing it says the lord was never worthy of the first.