The Jongurian Mission (19 page)

Millen returned to his seat and sat down, taking out a pocket handkerchief to wipe at his brow, obviously relieved to be done speaking.
Several of the delegates applauded him, none more loudly than Halam, who stood to address the hall.

“I am in complete agreement with what the delegate from Fallownia has just said,” Halam told the hall while looking at Millen.
“Let us not make the mistakes of previous years when provinces’ undercut one another to secure the most advantageous deals possible. Under that system each province might win, but Adjuria loses. For too long this country has identified itself more as a group of provinces with a common outlook as opposed to what we really should be, a strong nation that works together to ensure that all benefit from what the nation produces.”

He paused as the hall clapped at his remarks before continuing in a softer tone.

“While we sit in this room bickering over which province produces the best and most sought after goods, those goods do nothing but pile up in warehouses in our individual provinces.
Without a common thread to bind us together, there can be no trade, and that will benefit no one. We will always have differences; that is part of living in different parts of the country and leading different lives. But we need to overlook those and join together to make this country better. There is more than enough trade for all of the provinces to benefit, and if we keep that in mind over these deliberations, then we’ll come out of this conference with a policy that we can look back on with the pride of a job well done.”

The hall applauded vigorously as Halam resumed his seat.

“Well, well, well,” Orin said with surprise.
“I didn’t think that we could expect such passionate positions from your uncle.” He looked over at Bryn. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“Neither did I sir,” Bryn replied.
He was as much taken aback as Halam seemed to be. Looking over at Rodden, however, it appeared that perhaps his uncle’s outburst of indignation hadn’t quite come out of the blue.

“Did you know about his position on this?” Bryn asked Rodden, who was still smiling and clapping.

“We had discussed the possibility back in Plowdon a few weeks back,” Rodden responded. “Halam knew that there’d be a lot of arguing back and forth between the provinces which had opposed one another during the Civil War, and also between those that had traded against each other long before.” He paused and put his head down as if thinking whether he should divulge more. After a moment he decided to continue.               “It was your uncle’s idea to send a letter off to Millen Fron in Fallownia to discuss an amicable presentation between him and your uncle here at the conference. Millen agreed right away. They both thought that if two provinces which were known to have been fierce rivals during the trading days were seen to be in agreement at the conference, it would pave the way for others to put away their differences as well.”

“Well, you two sure are the cunning ones, aren’t you now,” Orin said with a sly smile.

Rodden chuckled
. “We both agreed that a little deception wouldn’t hurt anyone, the ends justifying the means and all.”

Bryn looked around the room.
The hall’s spirits had been lifted by the performance of the two delegates whose provinces’ had comprised the entirety of Adjuria’s grain exports to Jonguria twenty years earlier. While the other delegates represented a wide variety of tradable goods, their sheer amount could never rival that of Fallownia and Tillatia. If these two provinces were now on equal terms, then there was a chance that this conference could prove successful, and most knew it.

He saw the king motion behind him and Tullin rose to stand
at his side. He crouched down and looked ahead of him as the king whispered into his ear for a few seconds, then rose back up and approached the table.

“Gentleman, gentleman,” he yelled out in his deep voice.
It took a few minutes, but the chatter of voices gradually died down to where Tullin could be heard. “It would seem that we have made some progress this morning,” he looked over at where Halam and Millen sat as he continued. “I’ve always felt it was a good idea to quit while you were ahead, or in this case, just take a break for lunch.”

Many voices roared their approval at that statement, and several of the advisors stood up from their chairs.
All of the delegates remained seated, except for Andor Flin, who rose quicker than Bryn thought a man of his size could manage.

Tullin raised his arms to settle the hall.

“The king feels that the conference would be better served if it was not constantly harassed during the day by the overabundant amount of advisors that have clamored to Baden with you all.
They are welcome to have lunch in the great hall. It has been decided, however, that lunch will be served to conference delegates and their advisors in a nearby hall, one much smaller than the Great Hall of last night and this morning. We hope that this does not prove to be an inconvenience,” he finished, a wide smile showing on his face.

Nearly everyone besides the Tillatians were inconvenienced by the change to the lunch arrangements, Bryn figured as he looked around the small hall the delegates and their advisors occupied.
At first there were loud rumblings and charges of interference; for how could the delegates continue if their rumormongers were not able to report to them what they’d learned from the other delegates’ rumormongers? When it became obvious that there would be no changes to the new lunchtime venue, the loud rumblings grew into quiet voices of discontent then ceased altogether as hunger began to outweigh wounded pride, and everyone was shown to the lunch hall.

The room was a short distance from the map room and just a bit smaller.
The walls and ceiling were still high, although it was the first hall that Bryn had seen so far in the palace which didn’t contain an elaborate panting looking down upon him as he looked up. Large slanted windows crowded close together near the top of the room, letting light spill down. In a complete change from all of the other areas of the palace, this room showed paintings of peasants in the field, citizens tending food stalls in the city, and artisans at work on craft goods. It was a nice change from the regal scenes of hunting and carousing that dominated the other areas Bryn had seen.

Three long tables were set into the center of the hall with chairs closely bunched together along their length.
There were already loaves of bread and rounds of cheese spaced along them when the delegates entered and they did much to quiet the grumbling voices, and stomachs, of those still affronted by the sudden change of venues. Serving women soon entered the hall from a pair of side doors, bringing fruit trays and large flagons of wine, which went further in soothing the sprained egos.

Bryn, Halam, Rodden, and Orin were some of the last to enter into the hall.
They’d been postponed by all of the other delegates and advisors that had wanted to come over and shake Halam’s hand after his speech to the hall. It seemed there were many who agreed with his words of reconciliation and moving forward, even if many of them couldn’t say so themselves. Two of the tables were therefore already full upon their arrival, but a hand shot up accompanied by shouts at them, and they soon found themselves sitting with Millen Fron and Pader Brun.

“Really, Halam, I must commend you on your speech before the hall just now,” Pader said while popping grapes into his mouth.
“I was worried as to the course things were taking until you spoke; now I think that this conference has a chance of success.”

“Thank you, but it was really nothing,” Halam said, looking down into his wine.
All of the flattery was making him uneasy, for he wasn’t one accustomed to being the center of attention, and didn’t like it much.

“Oh, you
’re too modest by far, my good man,” Pader said with a laugh, causing the edges of his mustache to rise.

“Really, I could
n’ have said what I did without the words that Millen said before me,” Halam said, nodding his head at the Fallownian delegate seated across from him.

Millen smiled, and it looked to Bryn that he was just as much out of his element amid all of the attention as his uncle was.

“I said nothing more than
what needed to be said,” Millen offered in way of explanation for his earlier remarks, his bearded chin rising as he shrugged his mouth. “I don’t know how much longer I could go on listening to the various provinces’ batter each other over the actions they’d taken twenty years before, while sitting by and doing nothing as those same actions were set to repeat themselves before us here today.”

“Rightly so,” Orin said through mouthfuls of bread and cheese.

“I’m sure that many of the other delegates felt the same way,” Rodden offered.

“Well judging by the ovation you two received, it would appear so,” Pader said. “It leads me to believe that we can go on to make some progress this afternoon.”

The serving women came and put down a
sizeable roast pig in front of them, a large red apple stuffed into its wide mouth. Pader took the carving knives from the tray and began to serve out portions to the men around him, the conversation slowing as they filled their bellies.

“And what policy would you like to see come about to govern the provinces’ trade?” Rodden asked Pader after they
’d eaten a bit.

Pader leaned back with his wine glass in his hand and pondered the question for a few moments before answering.

“One that ensures that squabbles like we saw earlier this morning no longer have any reason to occur,” he said, his light blue eyes staring into an empty space in front of him.
“A policy that ensures each province gets their fair share of trade, no matter if their goods are the same as some of the other provinces’ or not.” He sat forward in his chair once again and looked at those around him. “We need the central government to have more control. Whether this means giving more power over to the royal council, or forming a new council wholly devoted to the issues of trade, so be it. After watching the proceedings this morning, it became obvious to me that the provinces aren’t able to deal fairly on this issue by themselves alone.”

The other men seated around the table went silent at his remarks.
It would seem that Pader’s strong words were too much for many of them to take this early in the conference. Most of the province’s had grown used to greater autonomy since the civil war ended and the king had been reduced in power.

After a few moments Halam spoke up.
“I agree with you, Pader. We need to give the government more control. Most of the provinces won’t like it, but I feel it needs to be done.” He paused to look at Pader before continuing. “Do others share your opinion on these matters?”

“For now I think it
’s just us three,” Pader said, indicating Halam, Millen, and himself.

The men sat staring into their wine, thinking what would be the best course of action to take to convince others of their views.

“We
’ll need to convince more delegates that our idea is sound and the right course for Adjuria to follow,” Rodden said, breaking the silence. “The way I see it, there are fourteen delegates, and it’ll take a majority of them to decide on a trade policy that’ll be binding to all. Therefore, we need a minimum of eight delegates to agree on a policy for this conference to end as a success.”

“We don’t know what other delegates already have plans,” Orin said.
“Could be that other groups are already trying to form a majority of their own to back whatever ideas
they
have in the works.”

“It could also be that there are no plans, and that we
’re the first,” Halam replied. “For that reason we should begin to spread our idea to the other delegates this very afternoon.” He looked around at the others. “Now, who else is likely to go along with us?”

“I’ve a feeling that Willem Pritt with agree with us” Pader said,” and I think I may be able to persuade a few of the other delegates whose province’s have been undercut in the past when it came to trade.”

Halam leaned back in his chair to consider Pader’s words.

“Which other delegates do you have in mind?” he asked after a few moments.

Pader leaned back as he continued. “Well, let me think.” His eyes moved from point-to-point along the ceiling while he looked at the various delegates in his mind’s eye. “There’s Dolth Hane for sure,” he said, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “The Equinians have always seemed to come out bad on trade, since their province does not produce much that others do not already have. I’m sure Dolth will go along.”

“So that
’s now five of us,” Millen said. “Not enough to have a strong say in matters.”

“Aye,” Orin chimed in, “but a good start.

“With only three more you’ll have a majority in the conference,” Bryn added to the approving looks of his uncle.

“Aye, that
’s what we’ll need,” Pader agreed, “a majority. To convince the delegates to give over more control to the government we’ll need a firm majority of voices in support of a unified policy; a strong voice that the rest of the delegates can’t argue against.”

“It may be hard to pry
away the province’s that went along with Regidia in the war,” Orin said.