406 lines
20 KiB
TeX
406 lines
20 KiB
TeX
\hypertarget{chapter-20-onset}{%
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\chapter{Onset}\label{chapter-20-onset}}
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\epigraph{``Proceran promises should be treated like stew: unless you know
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every ingredient, best not swallow.''}{King Charles Fairfax of Callow, the Rightfully Wary}
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Archer's elbow was pressing into my eye. I blinked and craned back my
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neck before she could smack me again, turning in the bed. I carefully
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extracted myself from the pile of limbs over me, careful not to wake
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either of them. It was easier than I'd thought, since somewhat
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unsurprisingly Indrani was hogging the covers. Masego was laying back
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with his face towards the ceiling, still like he'd been put to rest in a
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coffin instead of passing out by my side when we came back from his
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mind. The eye cloth had been tugged down at some point, baring an eerie
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glass eye and partly covering one of his cheeks. I wrinkled my nose.
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Archer reeked of yesterday's fighting, so clearly she'd not bothered to
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clean up before piling on top of us. She murmured in her sleep in a
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tongue I'd didn't recognize, then promptly spread her legs where I'd
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been before. She was not, I noted with amusement, granting Masego any
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more room in the process. If anything she was coming closer to edging
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him off the bed.
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I'd not taken off my tunic before falling asleep last night -- and it
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still surprised me I'd felt the need to sleep at all -- but I sat to
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pull on my boots. I splashed my face with the water basin more out of
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habit than any real need, the tepid liquid doing nothing to wake me up.
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A dreamless night, huh. Been a while since I'd had one of those. I made
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my way out of the tent quietly, stretching my frame when the sun bore
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down on me. If felt \emph{rested}. Like I'd been tired and no longer
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was. It was a small pleasure I allowed myself a moment to properly
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savour. The Army of Callow's camp was only beginning to wake, dawn fresh
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to the sky, and I wouldn't truly be needed for at least an hour. If
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Hakram were around there'd be a meal waiting for me somewhere, along
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with the night's reports, but he was very far away. Last I'd heard he
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was bringing the latest recruits up Quicksilver River, intending to link
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up with Kegan's host before joining us.
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The camp fire closest to my tent was deserted save for a single person,
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tending to a kettle hung over the flames. I didn't need to look twice to
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recognize Vivienne. She did not turn, though I was certain she'd heard
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me approach, instead putting down a pair of cups on a flat stone and
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reaching for the kettle. I raised an eyebrow. The twin bells set on
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silver made it pretty clear where she'd gotten those. Had she nabbed old
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Fairfax dinner sets? I smothered a fond smile. Of course she had. Why
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would even bother to ask? I dropped down at her side, glimpsing the
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leaves inside the cups. Tea, though not the Praesi stuff.
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Smelled\ldots{} Ashuran, maybe? Wasn't the stuff Aisha got imported from
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across the Tyrian Sea anyway. Wordlessly, she poured the boiling water
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into them without spilling a drop. I claimed one, inhaling the scent. I
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tended to enjoy that more than the drink itself.
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``I hope that was part of the tenth,'' I said. ``If there's silver
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missing, the palace seneschal is going to be pissed.''
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Thief smiled, using a long spoon of silver to stir her tea.
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``Stealing from the palace is a hanging offence,'' she said.
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``Not since we revoked Mazus' decrees,'' I objected. ``It's a whipping
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and a fine now, I think?''
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``As Her Majesty says,'' Vivienne drawled.
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She'd never actually denied it, had she? I sighed.
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``All right,'' I said. ``You were waiting for me. Out with it.''
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``We'll be sitting with the Procerans at noon,'' she replied before
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taking a sip from her cup. ``Addressing our diplomatic approach is in
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order.''
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I hummed, inhaling the fragrant steam again.
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``Our strategic objectives are still more or less the same as when we
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started to march,'' I said. ``We need them on the other side of the
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passage, and to stay there long enough we have breathing room to refit
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while we prepare our next move. Coin too, if possible. I doubt they'll
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agree to actualt war indemnities, so we'll have to get that through the
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supplies if we get it at all.''
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``I've been in contact with the Observatory,'' Vivienne said. ``The
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situation abroad is evolving.''
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``The Dominion's armies should be in southern Procer, by now,'' I said.
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``But I'm guessing there's more to tell.''
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``Klaus Papenheim has finally begun his offensive in the Red Flower
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Vales,'' my spymistress said. ``No word as to the results of the first
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battles yet, but the Carrion Lord seems to be holding.''
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I grimaced.
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``He'd better,'' I said. ``If the crusaders punch through, our army's in
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no shape to take them on.''
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``I've also had word from Praes, though the news is a fortnight old,''
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Vivienne said. ``Nok was sacked by the Ashuran war fleet.''
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I let out a low whistle. I wasn't exactly pleased at the loss of life
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that'd be involved there, but it was an impressive achievement for the
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Thalassocracy nonetheless. Praesi cities were layered with centuries of
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wards and sorcery, not to mention the pack of horrors the aristocrats
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kept bound in the basement for rainy days. I'd known the Ashurans
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weren't exactly pushovers, considering they had the largest fleet in
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Calernia, but most their wars had been fought at sea. Last large-scale
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engagement I could recall they'd fought on land was when they'd landed
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armies to help Levant rise against the Principate, and it'd been the
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incipient Dominion that'd done the heavy lifting there.
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``They withdrew after?'' I asked.
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``Set half the city on fire in the process, after looting it,'' Vivienne
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said. ``The Wasteland legions arrived two days too late to help with the
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defence. The Empress is taking a beating at court over it. Thalassina's
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threatened to rebel if they don't get a Legion garrison. ``
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``Whoever's in charge of the fleet isn't a fool,'' I mused. ``Nok's the
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easiest target in the Empire, relatively speaking. They spent most their
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history under the thumb of one city or another. It's nowhere as crucial
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to Praes as Thalassina, but they made the Tower bleed. All the wolves
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will be drawn out by the scent of it.''
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``I would not wager that the Empress is too preoccupied to sabotage us
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if she so wishes,'' Thief said. ``But the real pivot remains the battle
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in the Vales.''
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``You think Milenan and Malanza will want to stretch the diplomacy out
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until they know the outcome down south,'' I frowned.
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``If the Carrion Lord is driven back, their negotiating position
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significantly improves,'' Vivienne noted. ``If he wins, they are no
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longer sole bearers of the shame of defeat should they make bargain with
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us. From their perspective, delay has no drawback.''
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``Except for starving,'' I said.
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She nodded, sipping at her cup.
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``I would expect Prince Milenant to state the ongoing continuation of
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yesterday's arrangement is a condition for continuing to negotiate,''
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Vivienne said. ``Something along the lines of coercion souring the
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process of peacemaking.''
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``I've got no reason to -- ah,'' I said. ``They'll fold early on
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something major, then argue I'm negotiating in bad faith if I'm not
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willing to agree.''
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``Precisely,'' she said.
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``We're not even peacemaking, not really,'' I sighed. ``They don't have
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the authority to call off the Tenth Crusade. The most we can get is a
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very narrow truce that doesn't violate the letter of Proceran laws on
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contributing to crusades.''
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``It would be reputational disaster for them to agree to even that much
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without something to show for their retreat,'' Vivienne said. ``We'll
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need to give them something.''
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``I can't move on them having a presence on our side of the passage,'' I
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stated flatly. ``You know very well how much trouble that'd be for us.''
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She shook her head.
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``Their ambitions to expand into Callow are checked, for the moment,''
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she said. ``I find it dubious they will attempt to overturn that state
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of affairs given their weak position. What they need, Catherine, is a
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way to save face. A way to accept terms that will not make them pariahs
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in the Highest Assembly.''
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``Reputation, huh,'' I mused.
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I drank from the tea, though its pleasant fragrance did not extend to
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the taste in my mouth. Whether it was eating or drinking, the enjoyable
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parts of it were mostly gone.
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``The way I see it, what they're most afraid of back home is
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Hasenbach,'' I finally said. ``It's horrible for their reputation to
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make a deal with me, but won't see them overthrown. The First Prince,
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though, she'll toss their asses out in the cold if she has half an
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excuse.''
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``It would greatly consolidate her hold on Procer if the largest
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opposition bloc was publicly disgraced,'' Vivienne agreed. ``Your
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point?''
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``We hand them a way to kick the mess upstairs,'' I said, eyes narrowing
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as I stared into the flames. ``Like you said, they don't have the
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authority to negotiate for the entire crusade. Just themselves. So if
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they're presented with something they can't accept or refuse without
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Hasenbach\ldots{}''
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``It is her reputation at stake, not theirs,'' Vivienne mused.
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I set down the cup.
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``I think it's time we brought Aisha in on this,'' I said. ``Unless you
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became fluent in Proceran legalities since we last spoke.''
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She rolled her eyes. That was a no, then. With a groan, I got up. Time
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to get to work.
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---
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Seven tenths of diplomacy, as far as I could tell, was bickering over
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symbolic or largely irrelevant details. We wasted a full hour trading
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envoys with the crusaders just to the order the issues would be
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addressed in. That and the language that would be used for the
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negotiations. They pushed for Chantant, but I was having none of that.
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My knowledge of it wasn't good enough for easy conversation, and I
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wasn't using a translator for something this important when nearly all
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the opposite royalty could speak Lower Miezan without trouble. I folded
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on it being their pavilion and tables we met at, then conceded to their
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proposal of only twenty attendants in exchange for picking the tongue
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andthe first issue. At least Aisha managed to horse-trade the give on
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attendants for a limitation on the number of attending heroes. Five was
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more than I wanted, but there was no realistic chance of the Pilgrim and
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his sharpest knives not being at the table. All of the Woe save for
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Hakram would be attending, regardless, so I wasn't feeling overly
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cornered when it came to the balance of Named power.
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My delegation ended up split more or less half and half between Praesi
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and Callowans. For my homeland the two heavyweights were Grandmaster
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Brandon Talbot and Baroness Ainsley Morley of -- currently occupied --
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Harrow. I wasn't eager to involve the latter, since she was not a
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well-known quantity, but it wasn't feasible not to. She was the ranking
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noble in my army and her holdings would be a point of negotiation. Even
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if it wouldn't have been a grave insult to keep her away from the table,
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I would have involved her. Baroness Ainsley had already proved she
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wanted to look after her people. She deserved a seat, no matter my
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personal misgivings. On the Praesi side, the most important were Marshal
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Juniper of Callow and Staff Tribune Aisha Bishara. The latter had picked
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out everyone else in our delegation save for the Woe, keeping the
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balance between provenances while digging out the scribes and learned
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officers that served as the closest thing the Kingdom of Callow
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currently had to trained diplomats.
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The Proceran delegation was, in comparison, a gallery of royalty. Prince
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Amadis and Princess Rozala had always been a given, but there were a
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full six crowned heads in attendance. Thief provided names and sparse
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details quietly. Prince Arnaud of Cantal, by reputation a loudmouthed
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idiot. Princess Adeline of Orne, whose brother and predecessor had been
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killed at Black's orders. Prince Alejandro of Segovia, who'd publicly
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broken with his mother's old alliance with Hasenbach. Prince Louis of
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Creusens, allegedly so badly in debt to Amadis he couldn't even take a
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piss without the older man's permission. Save for the heroes, the other
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attendants were all kinsmen to one royal or another. It was the Named I
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studied most closely. The Grey Pilgrim's face was the usual serene mask
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but there were younger heroes with him. The sorcerer I'd fought before,
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which formal introductions revealed to be Rogue Sorcerer. A woman
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bearing sword and board and watching me unblinkingly was introduced as
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the Silent Guardian, while the woman with the red face paint I'd once
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cut the arm of was the Painted Knife. The last was the Forsworn Healer,
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and I frowned at the sight of him.
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No Saint. That was only half a relief. If she was here, she'd be trouble
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but I'd at least know where she was for sure. I glanced at the heroes,
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frown deepening. Silent Guardian to hold me, Painted Knife to check
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Thief and the Sorcerer to delay Masego. The Healer to keep them going,
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and the Pilgrim to tip the scales. The five heroes had been chosen so
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they'd be able to hold up against the Woe in a fight. \emph{But if they
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think it's going to turn to violence, why is the Saint not here?}
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``\ldots{} and Her Majesty, Queen Catherine of Callow, First of Her
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Name,'' Aisha finished, and I offered a polite nod to the Procerans
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watching me.
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There'd been a Catherine Alban that served as queen regent for her son,
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actually, but by Callowan tradition that did not count as reigning
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precedent. Prince Amadis took a seat first. At the centre of his side of
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the table, before I did. The etiquette of that was against him -- as the
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ruling sovereign of a nation, I had the highest status here and none
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should be seated before me. I didn't feel particularly insulted, on a
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personal level, but it was an insult. Offered right after the
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introductions. While I was less than invested in etiquette, I was
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invested in this negotiation not being a complete shitshow. So, as
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Prince Amadis leaned back into his seat, I met his eyes. Silence
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stretched under the silken pavilion. Slowly, I cocked an eyebrow.
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``I was under the impression Arlesites were a mannerly people,'' I said,
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then waited a beat. ``Your Grace.''
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I let another moment pass before sitting down and gesturing for my
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entire delegation to do the same, regardless of the higher status of the
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royals on the other side.
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``You have a reputation for preferring familiar manners, Your Majesty,''
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the Prince of Iserre smiled. ``I apologize if offense was taken.''
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I did not think it a coincidence that \emph{familiarity breeds contempt}
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was a common saying in both our homelands. Procerans had a reputation
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for being able to speak flowery flattery while meaning the opposite that
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was apparently well-earned.
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``With friends, certainly,'' I smiled back as the Proceran delegation
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sat in proper order. ``Are we friends now, Prince Amadis?''
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``Rulers sharing an alignment of interests, mayhaps,'' the older man
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said, his Lower Miezan without trace of accent. ``Yet is that not the
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cradle of all great friendships?''
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I inclined my head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. I flicked a glance
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at the heroes, which were all seated at the left edge of the table save
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for the Pilgrim. He was at Malanza's side, between her and the Prince of
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Cantal. Aisha made up my right side, Thief my left. Rank had not been
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the prime consideration in those arrangements.
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``Before beginning, I believe it necessary for the nature of the
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involvement of your Named to be clarified,'' I said.
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Aisha's notion. Prince Amadis had been introduced as the head of the
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Proceran delegation, as we'd expected, but the status of the heroes
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today was vague. Legally speaking, anyway. Several of them weren't even
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Proceran, and those that were should have no authority to speak of if
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this was considered a negotiation between Proceran royalty and the Queen
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of Callow. If it was a conference between representatives of the Tenth
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Crusade and a villain queen, however, that was a whole other matter. My
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Staff Tribune had predicted it would be the latter and not the former --
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otherwise they'd have no legal authority to stand on without the
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permission of the First Prince and the other sovereigns at the head of
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the crusade.
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``The Chosen have graced us with their presence in an advisory role,''
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Prince Amadis replied.
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\emph{Good}, I thought. Then it was the Prince of Iserre and his fellows
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I had to settle with, not representatives of the Heavens. We had, at
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least, the legal prerequisites for any treaty made here to be binding.
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Not that it assured the deal would be respected. Aisha had reluctantly
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informed me that the most prominent precedent for treaties between
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Procerans and an Evil polity was attempts at deals with the Kingdom of
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the Dead -- which were broken by either side as often as not. There were
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treaties with Helike as well, but none relevant since the League of Free
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Cities had been founded. It would be shaky grounds to try using those as
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a yardstick. I nodded at Aisha, who bowed deep in her seat and addressed
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the table with a graceful smile.
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``We would now open formal negotiations between the Kingdom of Callow
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and the lawful leadership of the invading army currently standing on its
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sovereign territory,'' she said.
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There were too many people for me to watch them all, so I kept my gaze
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on the two I knew best: Amadis and Rozala. The Prince of Iserre's
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friendly smile did not waver in the slightest, but Malanza's brow
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twitched. Not pleased. The language as presented by Aisha treated the
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crusaders coming here like any other foreign invasion, the kind the
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Principate had tried for centuries with various degrees of success. It
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stripped the Procerans of the handy excuse of `the Heavens told me to',
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which might allow them to wiggle out some responsibility for their
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actions. They weren't going to accept that, of course. But now the
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bargaining started. Prince Amadis glanced at one of his diplomats, the
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middle-aged man bowing just as deep before responding.
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``We cannot treat in good faith under these terms,'' the man replied.
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``We can, however open formal negotiations between the Praesi vassal
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state of Callow and the mandated expeditionary force of Her Most Serene
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Highness Cordelia Hasenbach, First Prince of Procer.''
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Not presenting themselves as crusaders, but still as being here on
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Hasenbach's orders. I kept a frown off my face. They knew we weren't
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going to accept Callow being termed as a vassal state, since they'd
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effectively be making a deal with the Tower by intermediary if we did. I
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was fairly sure they could break any terms made if ordered to do so by
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the First Prince, if it unfolded like that, since the Highest Assembly
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had formally passed a motion to declare a crusade against Praes and a
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vassal state would be considered within the scope of that. It went back
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and forth for a while, until something like a compromise was reached:
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negotiations were now being held between the Queen in Callow and the
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mandated expeditionary force of the First Prince. Aisha had tried for
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Queen \emph{of} Callow, but they'd gotten out of that by pointing out
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that unless the Highest Assembly passed a motion or Hasenbach recognized
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it by decree, they couldn't legally recognize Callow as a sovereign
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state with me as its ruler.
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Legitimacy was the issue here. My only claim to the throne was conquest,
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really, and even that was a little iffy. As it stood the treaty would
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still be binding, theoretically speaking, but it was made with me as an
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entity and not Callow itself. It became worthless ink if someone put my
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head on a pike. Thief flicked me an unsurprised look after, having
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predicted the implication of the other part of the terms. The Procerans,
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by presenting themselves as an expeditionary force, were paving the
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grounds for any bill incurred over supplies to be sent to Hasenbach's
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court instead of coming out of their own pockets. I sincerely doubted
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that Cordelia would flip me so much as a copper if anything less than an
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oath to the Heavens was involved, so we'd have to get creative about
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getting the coin if we were going to get any at all. Still, that they
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were trying to extricate from this at all meant they were taking the
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process seriously. A good sign, after that tumultuous opening. I caught
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the subtle movement of Prince Amadis' hand before anyone else on my
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side.
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``The delegation recognizes the Chosen known as the Grey Pilgrim, formal
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advisor to the Prince of Iserre,'' the middle-aged diplomat announced.
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The old man rose to his feet.
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``I seek clarification from the Queen in Callow,'' he said calmly, ``on
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matters of intent.''
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I looked up and fought back a sigh.
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Wasn't it traditional that things had to at least go \emph{well} for the
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villain before the tables were turned?
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