Read The Jongurian Mission Online
Authors: Greg Strandberg
“The second day proved a complete reverse from the first.
Once again the usurpers took the field first and charged, and it looked to all that a repeat of the previous days performance was all but assured. It was not in the cards, however. The allies rallied and pushed back, driving the usurpers back. Horses were shot out from under men by the archers on the hills and most of the fighting on the field took place hand-to-hand, the earth quickly becoming slick and red with spilled blood. The battle went on all day and into the evening, and by the time the sun went down it was clear the allied army had inflicted the same defeat upon the usurpers that they’d experience the day before. By the third day it was obvious that the usurper army was a shadow of what it had been on the first, and with Willem Pritt’s successful charge to begin the day, their hopes at retaining the power that they’d come to enjoy vanished on the blood-soaked fields of Baden.”
Orin
sat back, his story finished. “It was a different time then, Bryn. People were different; more idealistic and hopeful. Then the war came and a mood of pessimism set in which still retains a strong hold on much of the country. Those were hard years, and while we may no longer be fighting with swords, the battle of words still rages on.”
A serving girl came to refill Orin’s cup once again, but he shooed her away with a wave of his hand.
“Well, Bryn, I think it would be best if the two of us returned to our beds for the night.”
Bryn nodded and he and Orin rose from the table and headed toward the doors. Once in the hallway, a guard approached to lead the way, but Orin waved him off just as he had done with the serving girl. “I know the way,” he said, and gestured for Bryn to start down the hallway. How anyone could have memorized the maze of hallways which led to the rooms was beyond Bryn, but then he’d come to learn that Orin was a man of strong wits and a keen intellect whose outward humorousness belied a shrewd and resourceful intellect.
As they took turn after turn on the way to their rooms, Bryn decided to ask the question he
’d wanted answered since he’d first seen Jossen approach their table.
“Orin,” he began, “how did Jossen get that limp?
Was it during the Battle of Baden, or earlier in Bindao?”
“A good question, Bryn,” Orin responded.
“No, he didn’t receive his wounds at Bindao. Many men made it home safely from that campaign.” They walked on in silence for a few moments while Orin thought. “It was during the second day at Baden that he was injured. The particulars are not well known except to Jossen and your uncle. They both met on the battlefield that day, and when they came off of it Halam did so at a walk while Jossen had to be carried on a stretcher.” They stopped in the middle of the hallway. “That would be a question that only two men know the answer to,” Orin finished before pointing toward a door. “Well, here we are. I believe these are the Tillatian delegation’s quarters.” How Orin could tell one door from another, or even one hallway from another was beyond Bryn, but all he could do was say goodnight as Orin quickly turned and began walking back the direction they’d come.
Inside the room both Rodden and Halam were already asleep and the fire
was burning low, giving off just enough light for Bryn to wash his face and undress before lying down. His thoughts settled on the delegates sitting around the table in the map room and the various ways they might vote before sleep finally took him.
TWELVE
Halam and Rodden had woken early, before the sun was yet up, although Bryn had a little more difficulty wiping the sleep from his eyes.
A small price to pay for learning more of his uncle’s past, he thought to himself as he laced up his boots and followed the others into the hallway. The great hall was as empty as they’d had ever seen it, although the smells from the kitchen were as strong as ever. They took a seat close to the doors and were quickly served hotcakes, sausages, bread, cheese, and a large plate of fruit. A pitcher of cider was set in the middle of the table with three cups, as well as a bowl of syrup, and Bryn poured as Rodden served up the sausages.
“How late did you and Orin remain in the hall last night?” Rodden asked as he tore off a large heel of bread for himself, dipping it into the juices from the sausages.
“No more than an hour after you left,” Bryn replied through mouthfuls of hotcakes dripping with maple syrup.
“There didn’t seem to be too many delegates left in the hall when we left,” Halam said as he sliced off a large hunk of cheese from the wheel.
“I’m surprised the hall is so empty this morning.”
“Perhaps they all decided to get an early start this morning, and are sitting in the map room at this moment wondering where the delegation from Tillatia is,” Rodden chuckled.
“Highly unlikely,” Halam replied with a smile.
More people began to trickle into the hall as they finished their breakfast and headed toward the map room.
Once there they were surprised to see no one was in a rush to start this morning, as only a quarter of the chairs around the table were occupied. Besides them there was only one other delegate in the room so far, Fryst Bahn of Hotham.
A
fter nearly an hour of waiting and the arrival of only three other delegates, Halam began to grow restless. “What can be keeping them?” he leaned over to ask Millen, who was sitting next to him at the table.
“I’ve no idea.
Perhaps many are held up in last-minute negotiations on whatever proposal Jossen intends to present this morning.”
“You think he
’ll present it today, then?” Halam asked.
“That’s how I took it when he mentioned it to us last night,” Millen said.
“He knows that we’re close to a majority, so besides some backroom deal-making, I think his best chances of success lie in presenting his policy to the whole conference.”
“Did you chance to hear anything from the other delegates this morning on our deal or Jossen’s?”
Halam asked.
“No.
There were still very few people in the hall when I finished eating, and none of them were delegates,” Millen replied.
They sat back and continued to wait.
After a while Jocko More and Klyne Surin both entered the hall together, their advisors trailing behind them, nearly doubling the occupants of the room in the process.
Palen Biln was the next to enter the room.
Unlike the rest of the delegates, Palen had no advisors to assist him at the conference. Since it was well known that Ithmia stayed out of Adjurian politics and didn’t trade, there was no need for any. The three chairs set behind him at the table remained conspicuously empty during the proceedings, a reminder perhaps of Ithmia’s solitary role as defender of Adjuria’s only land border.
“Do you still entertain notions of gaining Ithmia’s support?” Millen asked Halam when they saw Palen enter.
“It wouldn’t hurt to try, and the way things are likely to change very quickly, we may need him,” Halam replied as he watched Palen head toward his chair. After a few moments he got up and walked over to the man.
“Good morning, Palen,” he said upon approaching.
“Halam,” Palen replied simply as he looked up before returning his gaze to the wall across from him.
“How do you feel about the progress of the conference so far?” Halam asked after a moment, pulling up one of the empty chairs to sit down next to Palen.
“It’s about what I expected,” Palen stonily replied.
This would be more difficult than he
’d thought, Halam realized. Palen parted with his words begrudgingly and didn’t appear to have any interest in what Halam might have to say. He figured it would be best to get right to the point.
“The reason I ask
is that a group of us are trying to gather a majority of delegates in support of a trade policy.” Palen turned to look at him for the first time since he came over, giving Halam the encouragement to push forward. “I know that Ithmia doesn’t trade any goods herself,” he continued,” but I’d still appreciate it if we could have your support. With a strong show of support from most of the delegates, our policy will not only have the support of the conference, but hopefully the people as well.”
“The way that you all bickered back-and-forth yesterday makes me believe that any outcome from this conference besides failure is a remote possibility,” Palen replied.
“Still,” he continued after a moment, “tell me of your plan.”
Halam drew in his breath.
He would have just this one chance to convince the man, so he’d better do his best.
“The plan would give more power to the central government here in Baden,” Halam began.
“Whether that’d be the royal council or a new council devoted entirely to trade, we don’t know at this time. What we do know is that the provinces by themselves are unable to come to any kind of agreement on trade which doesn’t hurt other provinces. By giving more power to the government,” he continued, “we’re assuring that the petty squabbles between the provinces, and the animosities that they produce, will be a thing of the past. All goods’ll be sold to the government at fair and competitive prices, and from there the government will carry out the negotiations with Jonguria.” He finished and looked at Palen hopefully.
“It sounds like a fair policy,” he said, “but one that I do
n’t think Ithmia can support.”
“And why not?” Halam asked
“We’ve always remained out of the affairs of the provinces. It would not do to wade into those waters now. I do indeed hope that your proposal makes its way through the conference,” Palen continued, “if for no other reason than another group of delegates doesn’t have to come to Baden to bicker further.” He let out a sigh, whether from tiredness or frustration, Halam couldn’t tell. “I agree that reducing the animosity between the provinces is needed. However, it doesn’t fall to Ithmia to make that happen.” He gave Halam a look that said this conversation was finished, and Halam had no choice but to head back to his place at the table.
“So how
’d it go?” Millen asked when Halam sat back down.
“The good new is that Jossen
won’t have Palen’s support,” Halam answered, “but neither will we.”
Millen could tell from Halam’s tone that it would
n’t do to question the matter further, so both men once again stared at the maps on the walls. While Halam had been talking to Palen, several more delegates and their advisors had entered the hall. Now there were only a few empty seats at the table. Orin came into the room and sat down next to Rodden and Bryn.
“Good morning,” he cheerfully said, “what is the news of the day so far?”
“Well,” Rodden replied, “Halam asked Palen for Ithmia’s support. I don’t think it went too well, however, judging from the look on Halam’s face when he sat back down.”
“Oh, well that
is
unfortunate,” Orin said as his smile was replaced with a frown.
“Did you hear anything more about what Jossen’s intentions are this morning?” Bryn asked.
“I heard that he intends to present his plan to the conference first thing this morning,” Orin said. “He wants his proposal to be the first the joint conference hears, hoping it will give it a better chance of success. It seems that he does indeed have the support of a few provinces already, though I’m not sure which.”
“Perhaps we could present our plan first,” Rodden offered.
Instead of answering, Orin got up and leaned down to whisper a few words in Halam’s ear.
Halam turned his head to listen, nodded, and then Orin sat back down.
“I’ve just passed your idea on to our spokesman.
What he does with the suggestion we’ll soon find out,” Orin said as he pointed toward the door.
Jossen Fray and Dolth Hane entered the room with their advisors close behind and took their seats.
Now that all of the delegates were present, a guard knocked lightly at the door by the window and a moment later King Waldon strode forth to take his seat at the head of the table, his two advisors and the queen mother close behind.
Once the king was seated and the hall quieted down, Tullin rose to address the delegates.
“I’d like to thank all of you on behalf of the king for attending the second day of this trade conference,” he began.
“Yesterday saw a lot of contention between the various provinces. There was far too much arguing back-and-forth over what had happened in the past and not near enough substantive discussion on ways to proceed in the future. I hope today that can be remedied.” He paused to look at all of the delegates seated around the table before continuing. “It has come to my attention that there are two different proposals being discussed amongst you. Both seek the support of a majority of the delegates to this conference, thus ensuring passage. The number of delegates required, therefore, is eight. I know for a fact that neither proposal has garnered the necessary votes at this juncture, and for that reason I think it prudent to present both plans to the conference this morning. The merits and faults of both can then be discussed. Perhaps we can hold a vote on either or both this afternoon, wait until tomorrow, or through negotiation combine the two plans, or even scrap both and come up with something entirely new. The process is in your hands gentleman.” Tullin held his arms out in front of him, beckoning the hall to heed his words to ensure that the conference produced results.